Author's Note: This story was done as part of the Sybil/Tom Valentine's Day Exchange! This is for Shana-Rose, who requested the following prompt: "Sybil and Tom are friends who insist are just that and nothing more but it clear to their friends that they have feelings for each other so they hatch a plan to get them together." This story is the result of that. Happy Valentine's Day and I hope you like it, dear!

"Hmmm…" Sybil pursed her lips as she looked down, facing her gaze upon her lap for a moment before looking up again, her blue eyes flashing with playfulness as she glanced at Tom. "What do you have?" she asked, her voice cheeky.

"What do you want?" Tom countered, his voice just as teasing as hers was.

"What do you need?" Sybil practically purred, her voice more seductive than ever.

"I knew we should have played Battleship instead," Sybil heard Mary mutter into Matthew's ear. She turned and stuck her tongue out at her sister just as the phone rang in the front hall, interrupting what Sybil had thought was a perfectly fine game. As she jumped up to answer it, Tom set his cards down as well, announcing that he was going to get himself another drink. The other assembled players were left sitting there, waiting for the game to resume, exchanging knowing looks or rolling their eyes at each other.

"Honestly," Matthew said after a moment, looking up at the door to make sure Sybil or Tom had not yet returned. "Only the two of them can take something as simple as making a trade in Settlers of Catan and turn it into an opportunity to flirt."

"Battleship would have been so much better," Mary grumbled, playing idly with one of the houses that she had built in her settlement. Thomas snorted into his drink, and she shot him a glare. "What?"

"Those two could turn anything into an opportunity to flirt," he drawled lazily, giving a shrug. "Doesn't matter what the game was. They'd be making doe eyes at each other over Candyland if we gave them the chance." He chuckled suddenly. "I say we got lucky. Imagine if we'd decided to play Cards Against Humanity again."

None of them answered him, all of them thinking back to the flirting extravaganza that had been the previous game night. Mary shook her head and reached for her drink, giving a little sigh. "Those two…"

"Well, if it's so obvious to us, it has to be obvious to them too that they like each other," John said diplomatically from his spot on the sofa next to Anna. "I mean, a blind man could see it. They talk to each other all the time, off in their own little world…and we've all seen the way they look at each other when they think no one is watching. Why doesn't one of them just do something about it?"

"Maybe they don't find Weekly Game Night a very conducive atmosphere for romance," Gwen quipped as she reached for the bowl of crisps in the middle of the table. Jon Snow, her new boyfriend, nudged her in the ribs and she squeaked. "Oy! I'm serious."

"I think he meant in general," her boyfriend said gently. "Why hasn't one of them taken that big step yet? What's holding them back?"

"Well, we all know that," Edith piped up, shifting so that she was leaning up against Thomas. The two of them were the only single people in their group of friends—aside from Sybil and Tom, that is—and were lovingly referred to as the "Will and Grace" of the group. A few years back, Edith had gone out on a few dates with Thomas before he had confessed to her that he was gay. They had remained close friends since then, much to everyone's shock at the time. "Sybil hasn't gone on more than a few dates since what happened two years ago with her last boyfriend—"

"What happened?" asked Jon, who was the newest of the group and still trying to work out all of the past history, nuances, and endless inside jokes between them.

Gwen rolled her eyes and swatted his arm gently. "You really don't know anything, do you, Jon Snow?"

"Shut up, Gwen."

"Sybil's ex was caught in bed with someone else," Mary said dryly. "With another man, to be specific, thank you very much, Thomas—"

Thomas spluttered as he took another drink of his beer. "How the bloody hell was that my fault?"

"You know what you did."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "All I did was introduce them. How was I supposed to know that they'd hit it off so well that Sybil would walk in on them—"

"Anyway," Matthew quickly interrupted, holding up a hand to stop Thomas from going any further. "It was really painful for Sybil, and she's been reluctant to get back into dating ever since. She doesn't want to get hurt again…and Tom's the same way. Ever since Shannon—that was his fiancée in Ireland, but she got cold feet and up and left him two days before the wedding…he just doesn't want to risk having his heart broken like that again, so he won't let himself get close to anyone."

"They really are perfect for each other, aren't they?" Anna said softly, her voice glum. The group fell silent then, the only sounds that of Sybil on the phone in the other room and Gwen resolutely munching on her crisps, her brow furrowed as if deep in thought.

"Well, why don't we do something about it, then?" the redhead asked finally, making everyone else look up at her. "Come on! What good are we doing, just sitting here watching them waste an opportunity like this? Anyone with eyes could see there's something there between them, a connection…"

"They're perfect for each other," Anna agreed softly. "They're just both too scared and stubborn to do anything about it."

"So let's change that!" Gwen said, perhaps a bit too loudly for in the next second Jon had clapped a hand over her mouth and was gently shushing her. "I'm serious!" she hissed when she pushed his hand away, making him chuckle. "If they won't do anything about it themselves…then maybe we just have to do the work for them…"

"And how do you propose we do that?" Mary asked, her voice mild, not knowing whether Gwen's plan, such as it was, was even worth hearing out but not wanting to dismiss it yet either.

Gwen glanced to the door, making sure that Sybil and Tom were still occupied. "Okay," she began, lowering her voice and leaning forward so that everyone could hear her. "Here's what we do…"

"No."

"But Sybil!"

"I said no."

"But you haven't even—"

"Absolutely not!"

"But why not?"

"Because! I don't do blind dates, Mary!"

Mary gave an exasperated sigh and threw her hands up into the air in a helpless sort of gesture, glancing to the others for backup. It was a few days after the game night and the girls had gathered in Sybil's kitchen to put the first phase of Gwen's plan into motion. Or, at least, that had been the idea, but Sybil was clearly having none of it. She stood at the counter, angrily cracking eggs into a bowl, desperately trying to save what she had thought would be a fun, laid-back baking party but instead had clearly been a setup to get her to go on a date. It wasn't the first time her friends and sisters had tried something like this, but Sybil had been hoping that it would be the last…

Don't they understand? Don't they realize that the thought of going on a date, of being that close to someone again, makes me feel sick? Don't they care that I just can't do it anymore? Can't they…

"Look, we're just trying to do what's best for you. We've all agreed that you need to try to get back out there, darling, and Edith assures us that you're going to like him…"

"You will," Edith piped up, eager to help. "He's really lovely, Sybil, really. In fact…it might seem, when you meet him, that the two of you have known each other for years…one of those connections, you know…"

Gwen gave a snort which was cut off quickly as Anna elbowed her. Sybil stared at them for a moment before turning back to her work, eager to change the subject and move on. She cracked another egg into the bowl and began to whisk it furiously, refusing to turn around and look at her friends. "It's not open for discussion. I'm sorry, Mary, but the answer is no."

"Sybil Patricia Crawley—"

"What part of no do you not understand?"

"But he's already been spoken to," Edith broke in, feet dangling as she sat on the counter next to Gwen. "I've already talked to him, Sybil, and told him all about you. The two of you have so much in common, trust me, and he's so excited to meet you—"

The carton of eggs, which Sybil had been attempting to put back into the refrigerator, fell out of her hands and tumbled to the floor. There was a sickening crack and a smell of raw egg as it began to seep through the cracks in the carton, but Sybil didn't even notice. She was too busy staring at her sister, her eyes wide with betrayal. "You already spoke to him?" she asked, her voice almost ragged. "You—you set me up on a blind date…without asking me first?"

"We're asking you now," Gwen said, her voice matter-of-fact. "C'mon, you can't back out now, not when there's a great guy who can't wait to meet you. What do you say?"

"I say I think I'm outnumbered," Sybil replied, her voice a bit harsher than she meant it to be, the shock of the situation almost proving to be too much.

Before anyone could respond, Sybil's phone buzzed with a text. She glanced down, rolling her eyes when she saw that it was from Thomas. Never one to mince words, his text said simply, if you don't go out with this bloke I am never buying you another drink as long as I live. x

"Well?" Mary asked, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she tried to gauge Sybil's reaction.

"I hate all of you."

"Sorry, mate. The answer is no."

Matthew sighed exasperatedly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they walked along. "But why not?"

Tom raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Need I remind you of what happened the last time I let you set me up with a girl?"

Matthew blushed involuntarily, bringing up a hand to rub anxiously at the back of his neck as guilt plagued him once again. "Okay, admittedly, Edna was a mistake. I realize that. But I think I've apologized enough for that."

"I don't think there are enough apologies in the world—"

"Okay, but Tom, one bad date doesn't mean anything. This girl I've found for you—she's great. She's not like Edna, I promise. This time is going to be different."

"Yeah, because I'm not falling for it this time."

"There's nothing to fall for, Tom! Come on, all I'm trying to do here is help you—"

"I don't need any help, Matthew. I'm perfectly fine with the way my life is right now. Setting me up on a blind date with some stranger isn't going to solve any of my problems. The only thing that could—" He shook his head suddenly as a certain familiar face filled his mind…a face with dark hair, expressive blue eyes, full lips…Damn it, Tom, no! "It doesn't even matter. I like the way things are, Matthew. I'm not looking to change anything."

Matthew was quickly losing patience, and he suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing Tom to look at him. "Who says anything has to change?" he asked, deciding to take a different approach and see how that worked. He wondered if Mary and the girls were having the same kind of trouble getting Sybil to agree to the date. "I'm not saying you have to marry this girl, Tom. Just go out with her. What have you got to lose, at this point? You might even have fun…and even if it doesn't work out…" Matthew was already grinning, unable to contain his excitement, for he had the advantage of knowing that it would work out, it had to work out. "At the very least, you might end up making a new friend. Is that so bad, Tom, really?"

He could practically see the wheels in Tom's head turning, feel his friend beginning to see the truth in his words. "I…I guess that wouldn't be so bad…" he began slowly. In truth, now that Matthew had put it that way, it didn't seem that bad at all. Ever since the mess with Shannon, Tom had felt as if his life had been stuck in a rut, not moving forward at all, and if he had to be quite honest, he was lonely from time to time. He had some great friends, but part of him did yearn for something new…and Matthew was right, after all. If things didn't work out between him and this girl, whoever she was, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Maybe, as Matthew had said, he would get a new friend out of the deal, or maybe not. And at the very least…

He smiled suddenly, pointing a finger at Matthew. "Okay, fine. But if it turns out to be terrible, then you never get to bother me about my love life ever again. Deal?"

Matthew chuckled, holding out a hand for Tom to shake. Somehow, he didn't think that was going to be a problem. "Deal."

"Now, tell me about this girl."

Matthew grinned even wider. "Well, for starters, she's political…"

"Well why the hell didn't you lead with that?"

Over the next few days, Sybil and Tom's friends sat back and watched the pieces of their plan fell into place. Once both of them had agreed to the date, they began to act as messengers between the couple, delivering notes that were intended to let them "get to know each other." The secret, of course, was trying to keep the two of them from realizing that their blind date was actually not with a "friend of Edith's" or a "woman from Matthew's office," but, of course, with each other. Thankfully, both Sybil and Tom seemed so intrigued with the idea that they didn't seem to mind that these letters never came to them with names and addresses on them, but instead filled with things about themselves. Neither Sybil or Tom wrote these letters themselves, of course—it was another clever part of the deception. They knew that if they were found out, it was likely that Sybil and Tom would never forgive them…but the plan was going so well that they couldn't stop now. Sybil and Tom were so close to finally being happy…it would work. Everyone was certain of it. It had to work…

Sybil and Tom, unbeknownst to each other, were slowly falling for the people that they read about in the letters. Edith and Matthew had been right—they did have so much in common. Before they knew it, the day of their big date had arrived..and suddenly, Sybil was terrified.

"Why the bloody hell did I ever agree to this?"

It was three hours before she had agreed to meet her blind date—far earlier than she would usually start getting ready, but Sybil couldn't help herself—and Sybil still couldn't decide what to wear. She stood in front of her wardrobe clad in just her bra and underwear, hands on her hips, glaring up at her clothes and willing the perfect outfit to materialize in front of her. She swore under her breath and began to thumb through her choices again, throwing options over her shoulder and half-wishing she could just call Mary and cancel the whole damn thing…

What the hell was I thinking?

There was still time to cancel, she thought desperately. She could call one of her sisters and try to explain, to get them to pass on the message that she just couldn't go on a date, not tonight, not now, maybe not ever…there was still plenty of time to forget the whole thing had ever happened, and change into her pajamas before spending the evening eating Nutella out of a jar…

Damn it, Sybil! You can't just keep doing this. You can't run away every time you get scared, not again, not anymore…but damn it, why does it have to be so hard? What was I thinking?!

Before she could berate herself further, she heard the doorbell ring. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, reaching for her bathrobe and quickly tying it around herself so she could be decent when she answered the door. "Just a second!" she called out, half-running towards the door and throwing it open, hoping that whoever was on the other side wouldn't keep her for too long..and wouldn't mind the fact that she was half-dressed either. "Yes?"

Whoever she had been expecting on the other side of the door, it certainly had not been Tom Branson. He stood there with his hand raised as if he was about to run his fingers through his hair. He seemed fidgety, almost nervous, and as she looked closer she swore she saw faint dark circles beneath his eyes as if he'd been having trouble sleeping. Inwardly she wondered how long he had been standing there waiting for her to answer the door. "Tom!" she cried, trying to keep the surprise out of her voice. "Wh-what are you doing here? Erm…come on in…"

She stepped back to let him inside, and his hand ran through his hair as he stepped over the threshold. Sybil wasn't sure if she had ever seen him looking this anxious, and as she shut the door behind him she found herself wondering what in the world could have happened to put him into such a state…and why he had come to see her. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked awkwardly as she followed him into the living room, suddenly feeling very exposed as she slipped her hands into the pockets of her bathrobe. Thankfully, Tom hadn't seemed to notice her state of undress yet. He was too busy pacing like a caged animal, shoving his own hands deep into his pockets, refusing to look at her. "Tom, what's the matter?"

He whirled around, still pacing, as Sybil stood there unable to sit down while he was like this. "I have a—" he began before his eyes finally landed on her, registering her bathrobe at last. Instantly she felt her cheeks begin to grow hot, and he averted his eyes—but not before he had involuntarily allowed them to sweep over her form, unable to tear them away. The robe was short, barely reaching her knees although every important bit of her was properly covered, and he couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked even with it… "Damn it, Sybil, I'm sorry," he said finally, sounding frustrated with himself. "I didn't…I'm so sorry…I can go, if you want,"

"You don't have to," Sybil said, shaking her head.

"If I'm interrupting anything—"

"You're not," Sybil cut him off quickly, suddenly not wanting him to go, not until she'd figured out what all this was about. "You're not, Tom, really. I mean…I was getting ready to go out, but I have plenty of time…and I always have time for you, Tom, you know that." He tried to smile, but it was strained as he looked at her, his heart thundering in his chest. "Now, why don't you just sit down and tell me what's on your mind." She smiled encouragingly at him as she lowered herself onto the sofa, hopefully patting the spot next to her. "Just—"

"I have a date tonight."

His words, blurted out in a rush before he could stop himself, seemed to freeze Sybil in her tracks. For a moment, all she could do was stare at him, wondering if she had heard him right. When she did speak, her voice seemed strained, as if trying not to crack. "You do?" she asked, not looking at him, not knowing why it seemed impossible to so much as look his way right now. "That's…that's great, Tom."

If it was so great, then why was she feeling like she'd been punched in the stomach?

She swallowed, wondering why a lump seemed to have formed in her throat when she was supposed to be so happy for Tom. "Really, that's great. And you shouldn't be nervous, Tom. I know it's…it's been a while…" For both of us, she added in her head as she gripped a fistful of the fabric of her bathrobe in her hand. She tore her eyes away from her lap and looked up at him, trying to smile. He had finally sat down, although he perched on the edge of his chair like a child waiting to take a test, prepared to spring up again and start pacing at any moment. "But there's no need to be this anxious about it, Tom. You have nothing to worry about…because you're a fantastic guy. This girl, whoever she is, won't be able to stop herself from falling for you…"

I couldn't.

And there it was, the realization like a shock of freezing cold water to her face. The reason that she was so upset about Tom's date—and probably her own, even though a few days ago she had been so excited about it—was that all this time she had been trying to deny her own feelings for Tom.

And now it's too late…you missed your chance. We…we both did.

Unbeknownst to her, Tom had frozen at her words as well, blinking at her in confusion. She looked so vulnerable sitting there, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks, and his heart seemed to stutter in his chest. "You really think so?" he asked quietly, his eyes never once daring to leave hers.

"I know so," Sybil whispered, and then suddenly she was on her feet. She moved mechanically, turning away from him, not wanting to look at him and see if she had planted a spark of hope in his eyes with her words. That, she was sure, would make this whole nightmare just that much more painful to her. She was right, of course—how could she not be?

"Sybil?" Tom asked, sounding confused. "Where are you going?"

She paused in the doorway, one hand resting on the frame. "I have to finish getting ready," she said softly. "I…I have a date too."

"…Oh."

That single word, soft and resigned, seemed to take all the remaining breath out of Tom's lungs. For a second he stood there, not sure of what to say, feeling his heart sink lower and lower until he was sure it was hiding somewhere under his feet. "Er…brilliant, Sybil. Who is it?"

"An old friend of Edith's, from uni," she whispered. "And…you?"

"A woman Matthew works with, apparently," Tom said dismissively. "He arranged it." Now that the initial shock had worn off, a bitter feeling that he recognized guiltily as jealousy was beginning to seep into his veins, and he was sure his words sounded harsher than he meant them to. You're a fool, Tom Branson…you waited too long. Are you really surprised that some other guy has come to sweep Sybil off her feet while you were busy dragging yours and feeling sorry for yourself?

There was an agonizing silence. After a moment Sybil turned around, looking pale and wringing her hands in front of her.

"I'm nervous too, you know, Tom" she said, almost stumbling over her words. "So nervous that…that before you got here, I was thinking about calling Edith and getting her to cancel it for me. It's just…it's been so long, and I'm still not sure I'm ready, and I'm such a disaster when it comes to relationships anyway—"

"No you're not, don't say that," Tom interrupted, his voice gentle. "What happened with your ex—that wasn't your fault, Sybil. Not at all. And no one can blame you for being a little hesitant after everything that happened…least of all me. But you aren't a disaster in relationships, Sybil, you're wonderful…"

"I am?" Sybil asked softly, another blush creeping up over her cheeks before she could stop herself.

Tom smiled, a genuine one this time. "Yes," he said vehemently. "You are. Absolutely wonderful, Sybil."

"Thank you, Tom."

Another silence passed between them, so long that Sybil was tempted to turn to go…but the moment she moved, she heard Tom mutter something under his breath.

"Sorry?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "Didn't catch that."

Tom cleared his throat, embarrassed at having been thought. "I said, lucky bastard." At Sybil's confused look, he gave a sheepish smile and tried to explain. "The bloke you're going out with tonight, that is. He better realize just how lucky he is."

Sybil smiled too, although it was faint. "Well, thank you," she said sincerely. "But you really don't need to fluff my ego anymore, Tom. I'm fine. Thank you though. I'm good now. It was just a…momentary lack of judgment. I'm fine to go on the date now." The jab stung, and Sybil was almost glad that it did, in a way.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, and before he could stop them they were flying out towards her.

"That's not what I was trying to do," he said quickly. "I mean, it was, but…but not really. Sybil…" he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously again, taking another step over towards her. "The reason I came over here today…it wasn't just because I needed a pep talk from you. I just…I needed to see you, to talk to you, because…" She was staring at him. God, was there another woman as beautiful as she was on the entire planet? He wished she could see herself through his eyes…"Because…I was thinking f cancelling my date too…"

"Why?"

"Because I realized, as excited as I was to meet someone new, my heart wasn't in it…because it already belongs to someone else."

Sybil could hardly breathe. "And who is that?"

"You."

The word seemed to hang in the air, and Sybil's mouth dropped open. He kept going, stepping towards her once again, unable to stop talking now that he had finally started after all this time. "I should have done something about it sooner, but I didn't realize it in time. But you…you're the one I wish I was going out on this date with. I know it's wrong, but I think about you all the time, Sybil. And that's what's been holding me back all this time, because I can't fathom the idea of giving my heart to someone else when it's been yours all along."

Sybil couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't speak…and then she realized that, this time, she didn't need words. Not anymore.

She took two steps forward and kissed him, one hand coming up to rest against the nape of his neck. He seemed shocked at first, but then his arms came around her and pulled her close, kissing her with so much enthusiasm that Sybil felt her breath taken away. So this was what it was like…

When they finally pulled away to breathe, she smiled as she rested her forehead against his. "My heart has always been yours," she whispered. "I waited so long to tell you because I was afraid…but now that I have, Tom Branson, I will not give you up."

"Good," he whispered back before capturing her lips again.

Both Sybil and Tom had imagined kissing the other more times than they could count. But as they stood there, arms wrapped around each other, they knew that their imagination could never have held candle to the real thing.

"Where the bloody hell are they?" Thomas demanded, glancing from behind his menu to the table that they had reserved for Sybil and Tom's date. "They were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

"Maybe they're just running late," Edith began, but Mary shook her head. "Cold feet, the both of them, I wouldn't be surprised," she said with a sigh. "We tried…"

Edith opened her mouth to speak, wanting to chide her sister for having so little faith in Sybil and Tom, but she was cut off when her phone buzzed with a new text. She glanced down, a slow smile beginning to spread over her face as she read the message from her sister.

E, please give an excuse and my apologies to my date. There's been a change of plans…I'm spending time with Tom instead. Plz understand! Xxx

"I don't think they got cold feet at all," Matthew announced, looking over Edith's shoulder at the message as his own phone proudly displayed a similar text from Tom. "Looks like we got them together after all…just not quite in the way we expected."

Thomas leaned over to read the two texts, snorting with laughter. "Then again…when have those two ever done what we've expected them to?"