A/N: Post 4x03 one-shot. All Edna wanted to do was to cuddle a little and lead her and Tom Branson to wake up together in the morning. There are, however, some things she did not take into consideration. It's a satire on Edna being so crafty and Tom being so tame. Since 4x04's solutions seemed to me rather trite here is something completely different. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Written for fun, not for profits. I don't own these characters, they belong to Julian Fellows and I thank him for inspirations.

'Tonight? Tomorrow? Always!'

Edna leaned out carefully from behind the pillar. The corridor was empty. She exhaled and straightened up. Trying her best not to be heard or seen by anyone, she started to tread gingerly. She turned right to make sure that the light in Lady and Lord Grantham's bedroom is turned off. One quick look ahead more to check if the children in the nursery felt asleep. Better safe than sorry. Who knows how Tom Branson will react? The last time she was there with him… Edna smiled to herself as she quickened her pace to finally stop in front of the door of his room. Never thinking of knocking at the door she opened them a little. The chamber was completely dark.

'Are you awake?' – she whispered into the darkness.

The only answer Edna gained was a sluggish groan, but that was enough for her. There was no time to wait for more evidences that Tom Branson is woken up. The lady's maid slipped into and closed the door. It was stuffy and terribly hot in here. A warm, alcohol permeated air, hit her strongly on the face. She grimaced. Maybe she exaggerated a little bit with that whiskey? Oh, well - she will get by. She must. There was no other way to break him! Looking around she blinked few times. Her eyes began to slowly getting used to the conditions. She wondered if she could turn up the small lamp she knew was standing at the chest of drawers, but decided not to risk. Not yet.

The woman came closer and thankfully managed not to stumble over his shoes, scattered beside the bed. Tom was laying across the beds on his stomach. His arms spread wide, his face pressed against the bed covers. Apart from those shoes he didn't undress himself. He was murmuring something and she crouched beside the bed, pricking up her ears to understand stroked his arm trying to be gentle.

'You're… here… at last.' – he mumbled, gasped heavily and shivered a little under her touch. Her hands were rather cold.

'I am' – she answered.

'I… was polite… to them, wasn't …I?'

'Yes, you were.' - she smiled continuing the stroking, her voice falsely calm – 'And very, very brave, I must say that.'

'I've… been… suffering the whole they... day.. so will you… release… me now like you… promised, My Darling?'

What is he talking about? His Darling? Did she heard it correctly? She snickered and unbuttoned three buttons of her black, loose blouse. Men are all the same…

'I did, did…not undress myself … like you asked…Sybil…'

Sybil? She sighed a little disappointed. Never mind. Stupid, drunken gibberish.

He groaned turning slowly to the right side, never opening his eyes.

'It's all right I'll…' - Edna said sitting on the edge of the bed.

'… help you, as I promised, Honey.' – his dear Sybil touched his chick. Her warm hand were so soft.

'Yeah… Remember you said that… the more aw- aw-awkward I feel in this tux.. x…' – he started, relaxing under his wife delicate touch.

'Tuxedo?' – Edna tried to help him.

He nodded.

'The grater fun I'll have… when you finally… got me off it… to-to-tonight, my sweet, sweet… Sybil' –he finished and hiccupped loudly.

Edna withdrew her hand dissatisfied with what he said again.

'I'm not Sybil! I'm Edna' – she clarified firmly.

'Wha-a-att?'

'Edna,…'

'…the maid' – his Sybil whispered seductive.

'Oh Syb… don't tease me' – he murmured - I'm toooo… tired for those… plays of yours, my... You were a naughty nurse once… or you always are... then a bad governess, an ... exotic dancer… did you stole some poor maid an ap-r-r-ron this time?!'

'What?'- Edna laughed. Jesus, that Lady Sybil really had fantasy!

He looked at her with a smile, only pretended not to be astonished by his wife's crazy idea. Sybil always flirted with him with such grace. A bonnet, a white apron and a black tight dress…

'You naughty girl! And you're probably want to tell me that you're naked underneath this outfit?'

Edna stared at him shocked. He suddenly sat on the bed and then collapsed, falling on her. She barely managed to duck herself.

'You'll find out as the time came!'

Sybil laughed, flirtatiously raising her eyebrow. She fiercely pushed him on their bed and kissed him passionately.

'You were so elegant and dignified those past three days, Sir' – she gasped when reluctantly pulled back from him - ' You were entertaining that old Duchess with such a charm' – she stroke his cheek, nuzzling with him – 'But I've not been deceived!'

'No?' – he teased her, his voice husky.

She shook her head.

'I perfectly know that underneath that outfit there is still that horny,' – she undid his white bow tie- 'wild' –she moved down and began to unbutton his west – 'guy, who is not only ready to drive me to Ripon, but first of all panting to drive me crazy!'- she finished and finally stripped him of the white shirt.

'I'm more than ready, love! And I know otherwise that you are the one who has a garage, ideal to park my speeding Renault?'

'Ohhh!' – gasped Sybil aroused.

'Ugh?'– said Edna confused as she was trying to put his limp body on his back again.

'What does it all supposed to mean?' - she asked but, honestly, counting on no answer. She was so surprised by his behaviour that barely forgot why she came here. Listening to him was curious, but beginning to sound odd in the same time…

He rolled them and Sybil was now laying on her back. She shivered when he buried his face in her neck placing hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. His hands slide down her body.

'Tom… Oh…' - she shouted as he touched her breasts -'It's supposed to be about you!'

'Hands off!' – said Edna just in case, because Branson suddenly got so restless that she scared he is going to touch her. And yet she was not so sure if she wanted it as she was an hour ago!

'My beautiful girl…If you want me to stop you'll have to handcuff me'

'Not that bad idea!' – Sybil whispered overwhelmed with desire.

'My own weapon against me? I shouldn't have told you that I placed all our stuff under the bed.'

Stuff? What stuff? He is raving again, is he?

But what if he is not?

Edna stood up. He groaned as she turned on the small lamp. She leaned on all fours and looked under the bed. A small, wooden box was there. She reached and pulled it out. Sitting on the bed again, trying her best to ignore all that wild noise he was making, she slowly opened the box...

Oh, how surprised was she when she saw the content of it! She was pulling out one thing after another. Let's have a look. Kind of… oh well… female underwear? But completely different from the one Edna was ever wearing. That must belonged to Lady Sybil. Where did she got such thing? Edna heard that she had a family in America, so maybe…? Anyway, it looked like someone sewed it themselves and unexpectedly run out of the material!

A silk scarf then. What was the use of it? Oh and the handcuffs! Two pairs! God, he was not joking! That wasn't something everyone can buy in the market. What kind of man is he?! And why is he still keeping it? Such a freak!

There were also some other things or... ehm... toys? Which the lady's maid could not name but automatically found one simple word to define them all – weird.

Dangerously weird.

She quickly closed the box and kicked it back under the bed.

'Just you wait.' - Sybil reluctantly releasing herself from his tight embrace. She leaned and pulled out their 'love box' as she used to call it. She took the handcuffs, her hungry eyes never leaving his. She quickly wrapped them in a silk material and put them around his wrists, hitching the other part of them to the bed rail. He was not going to protest at all. As he was laying back she reached down and unbuttoned his trousers with no hesitation.

'Hello Mr Big' - she said and smirked as she got him off his pants -'Did you miss me?'

'Oh, yeah Mr Big missed you so much!'

Mr Who?

Mr Who?! He picked up himself again and Edna jumped out scared. He stood up, half sleep - half awake.

Swaying.

And blind drunk.

Is he going to sleepwalk now? Oh no that's too much for her! She is a respectable woman.

'Oh Sybil!'

'SYBIL!'

'Shut up! No step further!' - Edna pulled back and stopped as her back touched the wall.

But he came closer to her. He would have fallen if Edna didn't hold him.

He gasped as Sybil touched him with her skilfully hand. Than she leaned down…

'Be careful, Sweetheart. Oh, please! Try not to bite me this time. Or I'll have to punish you!'

'WHAT?' – she shouted disgusted. What a pervert! Is he serious? Dear God! All she wanted to do was to sneak here, undress them slightly, maybe cuddle a little at the most, and then wake up together in the morning so that she can blackmail him later…

Suddenly he leaned. Edna shivered from fear. She hold her breath. Tom whispered something quietly in the lady's maid ear…

'YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!' – Edna screamed.

'WITH A WAT?!'

He shuddered at her loud voice and moan as she pushed him on the bed gustily.

'You disgusting, vulgar deviant!' – she drawled, burning with anger.

Oh how she regretted coming here! How stupid was she!

She looked at him one last time. He was now fidgeting and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Thank God she didn't fall asleep on this bed of debauchery! Ugh if he wanted to touch her... What was the bizarre couple used to be doing here?

Had they no shame?!

Has he no shame now?!

She buttoned her blouse, straightened her skirt and left the room in haste.

Tom Branson woke up with the most terrible headache ever. The last time he had had such a hangover was when that stupid bastard, Larry, or whatever was his name, put some horrible pills in Tom's drink when Sybil and him came to Downton for Mary and Matthew wedding.

'Jesus Christ!'

He coughed loudly, rubbed his eyes and realized that he is still dressed in that ridiculous tuxedo. Sitting on the bed Tom tried to recall the events of the last evening. Unsuccessfully. Apparently he exaggerated with that whiskey and someone saw him upstairs. He only hoped that Lord Grantham hadn't seen him in that state. He would have gone mad! Not that Branson was afraid of him, not at all. He was just sick and tired of Robert holding a grudge against him.

He felt so terribly emaciated that he collapsed on his back again. The light was dazzling him, he hadn't drawn the curtains yesterday. Instead of recalling last evening events he decided then to concentrated on something far more pleasant that suddenly came back to his mind…

He has been dreaming of his darling Sybil every single night since it happened. She has been always coming to him since she was gone, for two years now. To talk with him, to reason with him or to scold him, once or twice. To say that he didn't disappoint her, to say how proud is she of him for being such a great father for their little one. Sometimes just to sit by his side and watch him sleep. But the dream has never been so…hmm… realistic… let's say, like it has been this time.

He had a dream that she came to him dressed in maid's apron and seduced him like she did it when they came to Downton for the first time after their marriage. And then that they made love the way they did when… Oh, such a terrific woman was she! Their love life went far beyond all his expectation. She was a progressive woman, he knew it, but their dirty talks? Mostly initiated by her. Just witty and bawdy, but her grandmother, and probably not only she, would call them vulgar for sure! That day when she showed him what she had bought them for their first Valentine's day, after everything was settled… their favourite games…

He smirked.

But why did he still have an impression that someone really was in his room, that night? He would never say such words to any other woman! He could never love any other woman the way she loved his sweet Sybil. Never fell so close with anyone else like he felt with her. Oh, how he missed holding her in his arms…

Enough. He needs to stop it or he'll go to pieces again. It all leads to nothing. It's a new day now. Maybe he will take Sybbie for a long walk? He didn't have much time for her lately and yet he promised to tell her everything about the great house party. Fresh air! That was something he definitely needed…

Not without some problems, he change his outfit, which was now very crumpled and did not look elegant any more, for his usual clothes.

He came down.

The house was quiet, it seemed like everybody already started their morning. Tom entered the dining room but there was nobody at the table. Apparently he was late and the breakfast was already over. All the service was also already cleaned up so it must have been very late. He forgot to look at the clock while passing it, walking the main hall. Suddenly he turned as he heard the doors opening.

That was Edna.

She came in, carrying a tray with dishes washed after Lady Grantham's breakfast. She looked horribly, as if she hasn't been sleeping all night, which was true because terrible nightmares didn't allow her to slumber at all.

Tom Branson chasing her.

Brandishing the handcuffs.

Edna flinched at the memory!

As soon as she saw him, she wanted to back away but he noticed her and that was too late.

'Good morning, Sir' – she said drily.

Edna went past Tom and stopped in front of the cupboard. Putting the tray on the table she looked at him with eyes wide open, but said nothing. She got busy with emptying the tray. Tom felt that something was going on. He cleared his throat with embarrassment.

'Good morning Braithwaite… Edna' – he said.

'It's Braithwaite, Sir.'

'Where are everybody?'

She sighed and forced herself to talk to him.

'I do not know, Sir. As far as I heard that was Her Ladyship's request not to wake you up early for the breakfast. It's Sunday and those past three days were difficult for you, Sir. Or as she expressed 'rather embarrassing'.'

She looked at him oddly. He wouldn't care if that was any other day. But then something occurred to him.

Something that frightened him seriously.

He remembered her giving him a huge drink last evening. They were talking later, right? What if she was the one who saw him upstairs? What if she came into his room? What if he was talking in his sleep? Oh, no! He will go crazy if he doesn't ask. Such thing must be napped in the bud. He promised it to Mrs Hughes, didn't he?

'Edna,' – he started sluggishly - 'this might be a strange question but I need to know. Were you in my bedroom this night?'

The fork she was wiping felt out of her hand but she immediately managed to put it back on the tray.

Edna swallowed.

She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself, but eventually couldn't help sending him the most disgusted look ever.

'Don't be ridiculous, Sir!' – the lady's maid snapped indignantly.

'I' m not sure, in fact...' – Tom said quietly, knowing his face turned red – 'I blush to admit I was very drunk. If I behaved badly I'm sorry'

'I have no idea what are you suggesting, Sir!' – she shouted.

'Well…'

'I've never been to your room!'

THE END

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