It's no secret: I love Downton Abbey. I also love Sybil. And I love Branson. This means, naturally, that I love them together. :) Anyways, I was watching episode 4 last night of series two and I just got to wondering, you know, what must Sybil have felt when she went over what Branson had told her? Well, this is me, trying - and failing - to do that. I don't think I did a very good job, but I suppose you'll be the judge of that. :)

Disclaimer: If I were Julian Fellowes...I WOULD LET BATES AND ANNA LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER AND NOT KEEP THROWING OBSTACLE AFTER OBSTACLE AT THEM! DAMN YOU, FELLOWES! (rant over...)

"The truth is, I'll stay in Downton until you want to run away with me."

Those words kept playing over and over in her head, racing each other in circles, and none of it made any sense.

"You're too scared to admit it, but you're in love with me."

How absurd, Sybil thought as she walked through the garden, the breeze cooling her face. She, Lady Sybil Crawley, in love with Tom Branson, the chauffeur? Why, that was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard in all her twenty-one years of life. And yet….

No, she thought, no, she was not in love with Branson. And if she was, there was nothing for her to do about it. Papa would have kittens and Mama would surely faint. She couldn't leave her parents or her family. If she did love him, what made him so sure that she would run away with him?

Branson was right on one score, however, she thought. If she ran away with him, she would be giving up everything. Her family, her friends, and, again, he was right when he said that it wouldn't be them who would shun her family. Her family would be the one to do the shunning, she knew that without a doubt.

She took a seat on the bunch under the giant pine, trying to sort out her thoughts, when Mary came to sit beside her.

"What has you so deep in thought?" she asked, not even glancing at her sister.

Sybil sighed deeply and said, "Nothing."

Mary turned a skeptical look to her sister and said, "Is it about the chauffeur, Branson?"

Sybil tried to keep a neutral expression on her face as she answered, "No."

Mary laughed lightly. "You never were a great liar, darling."

Scrunching her nose, Sybil said, "If I were to tell you something, Mary, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Alright, I promise," Mary agreed.

"No, I mean it, Mary," Sybil pressed. "Not a soul can know what I am about to tell you."

"I told you I promise, Sybil," Mary replied, looking at Sybil as if she had lost her mind. "What is it that has you like this?"

Sybil took a deep breath and said, "Branson has told me he loves me."

There was a heavy silence in which Sybil dared not look at her sister for fear of the expression she might find on her face. After a while, Mary finally spoke.

"And what did you tell him?" Mary looked at Sybil, who was avoiding her gaze. "Did you tell him you did not return his feelings?"

"I told him he was being ridiculous," Sybil answered.

"And too right!" Mary said. "He is overstepping a line that ought to never be crossed. What does he think, that you will run away with him, forgetting all your family and friends?"

"That's exactly what he thinks," Sybil replied, sighing heavily.

"He's clearly full of himself," Mary said haughtily as she stretched her legs out.

"He is," Sybil chuckled. "And I think he knows it. he knows he's clever and he isn't shy about it. he's so sure of everything! He has nothing to lose, nothing to gain, really, while I have everything to lose! If I were even to think about returning those feelings that he has spoken so blatantly about, then I would be living on the streets with no money at all!"

"Well, if you were to love him back – and you were to run away with him – I want you to know that I'm on your side," Mary said, not looking at Sybil. "I would help you, I would. But I don't know if I could truly understand why you would give up everything for him."

"Well, if I were to love him," Sybil said slowly, "then that would be the reason why."

They were quiet for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts when the very subject of their conversation walked towards them.

"Lady Mary," Branson said respectfully with a slight bow. He turned his gaze to Sybil, who felt a slight blush creep up her face and said, in a softer tone, "Lady Sybil."

Mary watched this, trying to decipher her sisters feelings towards the man standing before them, but Sybil was so steadfast in hiding her emotions that she could find out nothing.

"Yes, what is it?" Mary asked, agitated at being interrupted.

"Anna told me that your mother is looking for you both," he said, not taking his eyes off Sybil.

"And you had to tell us?" Mary asked as she stood.

Branson nodded. "She didn't have time to tell you herself. She was busy and couldn't be spared."

"Thank you, Branson," Mary said, turning her back pointedly on him to look at Sybil, who, at the moment, had her head turned away so as not to look at Branson. "Come, Sybil, Mama wants us."

Sybil nodded and stood, still avoiding all contact with Branson for fear she would give something away. The longer she was near him, it seemed, the more confused she got about her feelings for him.

As she and Mary walked into the house, she tried to figure out her feelings. Perhaps she did love him. And if she did, she knew that by admitting it, not only to him, but to herself, would mean that everything would change. And that was without running away and severing all contact with her family.

Later that evening, after supper, as Anna was helping Sybil get ready for bed, there was a light knock on the door.

Mary poked her head in and said, "Would you leave us, please, Anna? I'll help Sybil get ready."

Anna bowed and left the room quickly, leaving the two alone.

"You're not here to badger me, are you?" Sybil asked, not looking at Mary as she braided her hair. "Because I really don't think I can handle you pestering about something I'm not sure about as well."

"Why? Is Branson bothering you?" Mary asked immediately as she took over braiding Sybil's hair.

Sybil sighed. "It isn't his fault, you know."

"Oh, it's not?" Mary asked, her eyebrows arching.

"No." Sybil just couldn't bear to look at Mary. She couldn't stand to see the look of skepticism in her sisters' eyes. "And it isn't mine either."

"Darling, I never said it was."

"I just…I can't figure any of this out," Sybil admitted slowly. "I don't know what I feel for him, or if I feel anything at all for him. It's all so confusing."

"Maybe it's the thrill of a forbidden love," Mary suggested half-heartedly.

"No, I don't think it's that."

The braiding was finished and now Mary resigned herself to sit in a chair near the fire while Sybil moved around, tidying up.

"Why not let Anna do that?" Mary asked.

"Because, she's not here given that you shooed her away," Sybil said, eyeing her sister playfully. "And besides, I like it. I like doing something. It's my night off and I can't stand it. I'm so restless."

"You really like working at the hospital, don't you?" Mary asked.

"I do," Sybil said with a tender smile. The thought of helping people was always a soft spot for Sybil. And now, she had a reason to do it. War changed people, she thought as she sat in the chair opposite her sister. War changed everything.

"I wonder what Edith will do now that she doesn't have the Drake farm to go to," Mary wondered aloud.

"She misses it," Sybil said. "I can tell she does even if she won't admit it. but she's been quite useful with the wounded. She fetches them books, writes letters for them. they quite like her, you know."

Mary snorted. "She's such a bore, though!"

"Don't be mean, Mary," Sybil chastised. "Edith's finding her purpose, whatever it may be, and she's using it. She is useful, Mary, and you shouldn't tease."

"I wasn't teasing," Mary replied quickly.

"Why do you two detest one another?" Sybil asked suddenly.

Mary fell silent before she said, "I don't really know. I suppose we have that sibling rivalry that seemed to completely skip you."

Sybil smiled.

"You are quite the referee, you know," Mary said, smiling at Sybil. "I don't know how you manage it."

"I don't either," Sybil laughed.

The two were quiet for some time before Sybil broke it and said, "Do you truly like Lavinia? I can't really tell, but I think you do."

"You know, she's quite a nice girl. I like her, of course I do. It's hard not to," Mary added.

"Are you still in love with Matthew?"

"That's a hard question to answer."

"But do you?" Sybil pressed.

"Do you love Branson?" Mary countered.

Sybil bit her lower lip in thought. "I suppose it's a question that's quite hard to answer, isn't it?"

"Indeed, it is," Mary agreed. "But if I still love Matthew, that's my business, and if you do love Branson, then that's your business. Of course – and don't take offense to this, darling – I don't understand how you oculd love the driver."

"Do you think I could understand it either?" Sybil shot back, feeling angry. "I don't understand anything right now, and with his pressing me to admit it to myself that I do love him – that is, if I do – then that means, like I told you earlier, that I will be giving up everything."

"But doesn't he understand that –?"

"Of course he understands!" Sybil practically shouted.

"Darling, please! I'm on your side!" Mary said reproachfully.

"Then be on my side!"

The two fell silent until Sybil stood and, without lookin at Mary, said, "I'm tired. I want to go to bed now."

Without another word, Mary left, leaving Sybil standing alone in her room.

Numbly, she went about the room, cutting off all the lights until the only light that remained was the one beside her bed.

Crawling under the covers, Sybil picked up her novel and began reading. She didn't make it far, however, before she put it back down, unable to read a word. Her thoughts were racing once more.

Perhaps she did love him. After all, he was the only thing she could think about whenever she wasn't busy with the hospital. Perhaps he was right. Maybe she did need to admit it to herself. The only problem was, what was going to do if she did discover she loved him? Should she keep it from him? Should she lie to him, tell him she only regards him as a friend?

Questions kept running through her mind, all of them unanswered. But perhaps, someday soon, she would find an answer for them. and she prayed to God that they would be the right ones, no matter what they might be.

If she had to give up her family for the man she loved, then that ought to be enough. And if she didn't love him back, then he ought to understand and move on.

Or so she hoped.

With her last comforting thought that, if she did love him, her parents would understand and not shut her out in the dark without a penny to her name, she fell into a slightly fitful sleep.

Like I said, you'll be the judge of whether or not I got this right. I can only imagine Sybil was actually losing sleep over the idea of loving a chauffeur, you know?

Well, please review and let me know! :)