A/N: This is Part Two of AngieMagz' birthday present. It is something I don't even think she knows she requested after I posted A Walk In The Park — also from my Don't You Mind? universe. It's a look at Sybil and Tom as they begin to get their lives back on track, all while still being defined by their last night together in Dublin. Basically you should just read and tell me what you think, yeah?

As each day passed, Tom found it more and more difficult to avoid Sybil. Each time this happened, he felt increasingly culpable, the reason being he couldn't explain any of it to her without allowing it to add to the unrelated stress he had already been feeling since arriving in New York. He did not have to avoid her when they went to the local grocery store, or on the rare occasion they found time to watch the nightly news while Isla slept. It was other times, when Sybil was coming out of the shower or readying herself for bed, that he needed to excuse himself. After being with Sybil only one time, and then being without her for twelve months, he found every opportunity with her close to be one where he wished to have her even closer.

Sybil must have caught on because she began to tease. Unfortunately for her, her own teasing led to frustration on her end as well. The two did not kiss as deeply as they wished to and their touches became rare, especially as they were working to find some semblance of normalcy in their new life. Just as things were reaching an equilibrium, they pulled away. The home they lived in was not their own and they, as Martha constantly reminded, were still not married. Tom worked as a copyeditor for The New Yorker and while the money was decent it did not make up for the fact that Sybil was out of university and forced to spend her days at home taking care of Isla. During these times when the two were supposed to be relying so heavily on one another, they found that such a task was difficult without feelings of guilt or confusion intruding.

On this particular day, Tom was off from work and taking care of Isla while Sybil slept in. While he held their daughter in his arms, he managed to put a kettle on for Sybil and then draw her bath water. When she got out of bed, he had a tray of juice and eggs prepared and he sat beside her giving Isla her morning bottle while she ate in peace.

"What's that look for?" Tom questioned, still not removing his attention from his almost-sleeping daughter..

"You're a good daddy, Tom," Sybil stated simply.

Tom wiped at Isla's mouth and then propped her on his knee so he could burp her. He held her neck so gently and tapped at her back with the right amount of force, you'd think he'd done the action many times before. In actuality, he'd only been here three weeks and was still working adamantly to master every caregiving task as if to make up for lost time. "I'm trying."

Sybil nodded and moved her breakfast tray off her lap so she could snuggle closer toward her boyfriend. "You're doing a great job. I know how hard you're working and I know this has been so exhausting for you between adjusting to this and work and her—"

"And you," he nodded before kissing her lips.

Sybil pulled away from the action and was immediately made to smile. Even as she spoke, her eyes remained closed. "That too."

"I want to prove to your grandmother that I'm not some felon. I need her to see that I care for you and that I'm here and that I'm going to make this work. You deserve to have someone you're proud of...I know this hasn't been easy for you either."

"I am proud of you, Tom. I'm very proud of you. I always have been. I mean, you're stronger than anyone I know."

"I know, Syb, I just wish...I wish I could have been here. And I know you didn't know and I get why you didn't tell me but...I would have done anything to see you pregnant and take care of you. And the birth...God, I'll never be able to forgive myself."

Sybil was relaxed by his outpouring of emotion. Several times they'd made it to this point before, but never had Tom admitted to the truth so easily. His regret over missing Isla's delivery was an obvious one but to hear him say it out loud hit Sybil in a way she didn't know was possible. She was breathless and finding speaking rather difficult.

"I've forgiven you," she whispered with a nod. "So I need you to forgive yourself too so we can move on. Isla doesn't even have to know, okay? I'm fine with never telling her. I just need you to keep doing what you're doing and I know it'll all work out. Even having you here, Tom…"

His free hand was cradling Sybil's neck, and he felt her throat tighten as the lump there grew in size. He nodded and pulled her in to kiss her forehead. Again her eyelashes fluttered shut and she wished, if only for a moment, that Isla wasn't there so the two of them could properly be alone. With this same thought, Tom allowed his hand to travel away from her body. "I've drawn a bath for you."

"A bath?"

"Yeah. I'll get her ready for the day while you relax."

"Tom, it's your day off."

"I know," he nodded quickly. "And this is what I want to do. So please, go enjoy your bath. Isla and I are going to clean the kitchen and make the bed and—"

Sybil kissed Tom again. The action had her motivated to stand, immediately walking toward their en suite bathroom. Though he was doing his best to be calm, Tom couldn't help but to stare at the way Sybil's legs revealed themselves out of her tight cotton sleep shorts. That first night together he'd only seen her naked skin. To think that she could look just as sexy covered up was a different concept entirely.

With her hand on her hip Sybil took in Tom and Isla. His attention was returned to the little girl and he rocked her in his arms and stroked her cheek.

"I love you, Tom." Her own voice was so quiet and raspy, Sybil was nearly surprised by it.

Tom looked up. Wearing a smile he walked to her and pecked at her lips again. "I love you too, Syb."

~!~

When she returned from the bathroom, Tom stood up and walked out. Isla was still sleeping in her bassinet but Sybil found his move to be odd nonetheless. With a towel wrapped tightly around her body, Sybil peaked outside their bedroom to discover his whereabouts.

"Tom?" she called out.

A shadow moved and he was revealed to her again, this time carrying with him a basket of clean laundry. She sighed. "Will you please leave that? Anna will take care of it when she gets in."

Tom was hesitant to move toward her, but for reasons Sybil was still ignorant to. Similarly, she did not know why it was Tom held the basket so firm on his hip. "I've got it. Please get changed."

"Tom…" Sybil whined, slightly out of frustration.

Tom walked past her, opening the door to their bedroom in the process, but thanking that he was now hidden from view by the rest of the home, including the large windows that looked out onto Central Park. "Syb, I…"

She softened and took a step toward him. "Tom, what is it?"

"I can't...I can't be around you when you're like this. I just can't. It's been awhile, okay? And everyday that passes I'm finding it harder and harder to be around you without—"

"Fucking me?"

Tom sighed and closed his eyes, almost as if to banish the thought and even punish her for saying it aloud, despite it being an acknowledgement of the truth. "Please, don't say it like that, alright?" He set the laundry basket down near the bed and walked back to her. "I can control myself, alright? I'm not some animal, I just...I meant what I said the other day. I missed you. I still really miss you. And I'm sure that sounds insane because we were only together once but—"

Sybil pouted and took a step in toward him as well. "I told you, Tom. I miss those things too. So it doesn't sound insane. I promise you, I thought of them as much as you did. I still do—"

"I doubt it," he quipped.

Sybil smirked. "Things have just been busy and we've both been tired and there hasn't been a lot of time to…"

"But do you even want that? I mean, do you want me like that? Sometimes I'm scared to even touch you. I don't want to freak you out…"

"Of course I want that, and I want those things from you, Tom. You're not going to freak me out. If anything, I feel bad because I can't always reciprocate. I'm tired. Or you're tired. Or Isla's awake. Or my grandmother is home. It's just a lot."

Heavily, Tom exhaled. "Christ, Syb, it just means a lot to me to know I'm not alone…"

Again, Sybil was grinning. "No, Tom...you're not alone."

"I spent a lot of nights just thinking that maybe you regretted it and that after I came here you'd hold me to all of these rules and we'd have to date for all of these months before I could even touch you again."

"I guess me being a mom now changed that."

"You being a mom changed a lot of things, Syb, but all in a good way. I mean, if you wanted to set up some ground rules, that'd be okay too, I guess. Whatever you want."

"No ground rules," Sybil said with a shake of her head. "We'll get back there eventually. It just takes some time. You being a Dad changes things too," she kidded. "We didn't have a baby that night in Dublin."

"No," Tom breathed out. It was as if he was seeing Isla for the first time again. "We didn't."

~!~

It was nice that the two finally spoke openly about their desires and it was more than nice for Tom to hear that he was not alone in wanting Sybil in the ways he did. This did not, however, eliminate all of their daily struggles which made their intimacy seem like such an unrealistic goal.

Kisses before work often happened in front of Sybil's grandmother, allowing for them to be more chaste than they were long. When Tom returned home from work, Sybil was often nursing and then when he moved to make dinner, she had Isla on her hip so the two could not manage more than conversation. At night, when Isla finally went to sleep, the two merely reveled in one another, usually fully clothed and with the television off, while they spoke about their days, revealing all of the things they still felt so vulnerable about.

"I actually thought he was asking me for help, you know? I thought he wanted my opinion but then I gave it and he went back to acting like I didn't even exist. I mean, I've read over this guys stuff for a month now. I know his style. You'd think he'd want my feedback."

Sybil's hand was already resting gently on Tom's neck. Though he was often stressed, this was her favorite part of the day. She loved hearing him recount his time at work, even if it often got him riled up. "Darling, you have to be patient. I know it doesn't feel like it but you've already come so far. You've barely been here for a month and you're already working for The New Yorker. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's a good start. And the money's okay too! Once Isla's a bit older, I can get a job too and—"

"No, Syb. You're going back to university. Just like we talked about, okay? And trust me, the only reason I'm doing all of this is for you. I just want to work hard and save money so we can get our own flat and start our own life. I mean, I assume your grandmother is just counting the days until I'm out of here."

"No," Sybil stated with a pursed smile. "She actually quite likes you, though I'm afraid that's something she'll never say aloud. But she does. She likes having you around. She told me she's finally starting to see what it was that had me falling in love so quickly."

"Really?"

"Don't act so surprised. You're charming when you want to be."

"When I want to be?"

"All the time," Sybil revealed with a giggle.

Then, without warning, she stilled his lips with her own. The action was an easy one considering how close they already were, but Tom's position holding his hand atop her wrist fell away and immediately rested on her chest above her heart. Idly his hand laid there until Sybil moved her head to the side to grant different parts of his mouth access past her lips. Feeling this, his fingers curled atop her breast, kneading the flesh as his weight pressed into her more fully.

The two fumbled to find a more comfortable position. Everything was much quieter than it had been that first night while their lust for one another was met with their nervousness at being heard. Just as Sybil's hands moved to the drawstring of Tom's shorts, Isla began to whimper, hindering the process. Though everything Tom wanted was now moments away, even he was hesitant to begin anything if it were to be interrupted by their daughter. In fact, the longer he thought about it, the more guilty he felt doing any of this with her on the other side of the room.

"Just…" He sighed out before gently moving Sybil's hands away. Quickly he was sitting up in bed. "It's fine. I'll get her."

"Tom, she hasn't even cried yet."

"But she's…" He paused while Isla wailed, a sharp cry hitting the air in a less than pleasant way. "She's about to," he finished, not even bothering to be comical when life managed to be so ironic on its own.

If Tom didn't look so comfortable holding Isla, Sybil would have offered to take the child. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't explain to him that he had work in the morning or that it was late. Actually, it was the earliest the two had been in bed since they arrived in from Dublin and they stole away to take advantage of Isla's slumber. While Sybil wished they could be more adventurous (and she was sure Tom wanted the same thing), at this point she merely wanted to touch and be touched. With a child in the picture Sybil was finding there was no time to be picky. Even kissing Tom in the way she just had began to ignite the fire once kindled so perfectly back in Ireland.

Together the couple stared down lovingly at Isla. Though the child was already trying to fall back asleep, Sybil pushed back at the blanket she was swaddled in, caressing Isla's pink cheeks with her knuckle. Meanwhile, all Tom could do was stare at Sybil, and selfishly so. He could watch her like this forever if she'd let him. Really, it was one of the only things keeping him sane. She was no longer the girl he had fallen so immediately in love with, but a woman and now the wife of his child. When he imagined her conquering so many different things, he did not think 'mother' would be one title moved to the top of the list so quickly.

Sybil sat back. "Do you think she's hungry?"

Tom continued to rock Isla. "I don't think so. I think she's just being a baby."

"And what do you know about babies?"

"Not a lot, to be honest. But I'm learning. She seems to just want to be around us."

"She knows your smell," Sybil admitted through a whisper. "I used to...it's silly, really," Sybil said, laughing the memory off as if it weren't one that meant so much to her, "I'd wear your jacket and hold her. Before I left your mum's house I took one of the photos from your room...one of you and Katie Grace. And I told her all about you. Maybe she's just excited you're finally here."

"Maybe," Tom gave with a small smile. "Though I don't think she's that impacted. It's a nice thought but—"

Sybil's face grew serious. "If she isn't changed by you being here, her mood has definitely improved because of me...because I'm happier now. I hate to admit it but I don't think I was as great as I should have been with her. The energy just wasn't there but it's easier now."

Tom leaned in to press a kiss to Sybil's forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and when she opened them she saw Tom pulling the covers up onto him and a now-sleeping Isla. Her small form was nestled perfectly atop his chest. Sybil could only stare. Her own body curled much like her daughters did, just watching Tom silently decide that he'd forfeit putting Isla back in her crib, at least for now.

With her hand still stretched out, stroking at Isla's hairline, Sybil spoke: "Tomorrow, okay?" Then: "I hope."

Tom smiled and moved to kiss her again. "Tomorrow."

~!~

Another week passed, marked by nights where Isla, or a ridiculous amount of exhaustion, had Sybil and Tom finding sleep before exploring one another. Though their cuddling became more intimate and therefore more comfortable, and though they tried to speed things up by sleeping in less clothing, everything ended just as innocently as it began. In the morning when Sybil moved to get Isla ready for the day, her eyes could merely rake over Tom's naked form exiting the bathroom still coated in beads of moisture. On one morning he pretended to forget his towel, reminding her of their first night in Dublin and how she blushed just as deeply then as she did now. Before he went to work, however, she pinched his rear and gave him a proper, open-mouthed kiss, all while holding their daughter. It was an empty promise but a promise all the same and it kept Tom smiling on the subway, already counting down the minutes until he'd be reunited with his girls.

That night, while Isla whined through minutes of tummy-time in the living room with Martha, Tom proved that once again he was far more capable in the kitchen than Sybil was. Instead of admitting defeat, Sybil allowed Tom to teach her things and though she was never one for feigning ignorance to gain a boy's attention, she also didn't mind the way Tom wrapped his arms around her as if such a thing were necessary to display proper spatula technique.

As steam sizzled up from a pan, Sybil tossed a laugh over her shoulder. "Stop! I'm going to burn myself!"

"Would I ever let that happen?"

"Well I'd hope not," she laughed off. "Have a little faith in me! I can flip vegetables in a pan."

Tom stepped back and raised his hands. "Go ahead."

Sybil concentrated then rolled her wrists to mix the contents in the wok she was holding. The dish moved but in a less than satisfactory manner. A broccoli floret rolled onto the floor while a snow pea landed on the burner, Behind her, Tom dropped his head down into his hands and when she scolded him for doing so, the two laughed as a dance occurred, him picking her small form up and moving it away from the stove so he could correct her mistake. Even when the pan was placed back on the glass top Sybil and Tom continued to laugh. Their dish overheated amongst their distraction, adding to the already burnt smell in the air. Neither seemed to mind though, and as Sybil sat on the countertop eating her overcooked concoction, Tom stood in the space between her legs, pressing kisses to her face only causing her to laugh even louder.

This was exactly where Martha found them. Both bowls were set aside and Sybil leant her weight back, allowing Tom to kiss at the sensitive patch of skin below her ear, the same place he whispered all of the ways he wanted her. Previously his hands were on her thighs but now they cradled her face, teasing as she sought him out so when they finally connected it would be just as electric as it once was. The newness of their relationship, it seemed, would forever refuse to diminish.

Martha coughed out, doing so to startle the couple but in a comical way. The two turned red instantly and their eyes bulged as they worked to correct their action. Sybil quickly jumped down from the counter and Tom moved to set their bowls into the sink. Sybil's grandmother merely strutted further into the kitchen carrying Isla in her arms. She was not angry, or at least she did not appear to be. Instead she looked amused, even more so as Sybil grabbed for Isla, excusing herself to feed the small child.

Tom immediately moved to the sink to begin cleaning things up. Martha remained, surveying all of the damage and how quickly Tom was now working to remedy it.

"Well she certainly knows how to lead a lamb out to slaughter," Martha quipped.

Tom was nervous and he focused on the suds his sponge was creating to eliminate the way his hands were almost shaking. "Isla's hungry, I'm sure," he explained for his girlfriend. "She's been tired lately anyway. I really don't mind doing all of this."

"I wasn't referring to cleaning the kitchen, Tom."

He paused. "Oh." Another pause was necessary for him to fully make sense of Martha's statement. "I'm...I'm sorry then."

Martha pursed her lips. "I do know how children are created."

"She shouldn't have been sitting on the counter," Tom muttered, suddenly hating himself for doing so. Sybil told Tom how she lamented to her grandmother about how intelligent he was. Since arriving he was almost positive he hadn't said a single sensical thing — if he spoke at all.

Martha snickered. "No, she shouldn't have been. But...do you plan to marry my granddaughter, Tom?"

"If she'd have me."

His words came with such speed Martha nearly had to take a step back. "I don't ask because I think it's the right thing to do, though I will say, I certainly think it's the right thing to do. I ask because you make her happy and I think that would mean a lot to her. No, I don't think she needs it now or even before the end of the year. I'm sure you'll do a wedding just as you've done everything else: on your own time. Just know that while I'd prefer not to see you taking advantage of Sybil on my kitchen countertops, I tolerate it because of Isla. That beautiful little girl deserves to know she was the product of two people who really respect and care about one another."

"I do," Tom managed quickly. "Respect her. I always have. We…"

Again Martha smiled. "It may surprise you Tom, especially because I think you're having trouble rationalizing it yourself, but I believe you did and still do love my granddaughter. I'm not as skeptical about the speed everything progressed at. And right now I have no reason to be skeptical that you won't continue to provide for and love those girls. They mean just as much to me as I'm sure they mean to you. It's important we're on the same side, wouldn't you agree?"

Tom thought of Sybil and how once upon a time she declared that she didn't have a side. If there was a side to be on then, it didn't seem either was a safe choice. "Of course."

~!~

Martha was on the Island for the weekend visiting friends. She often went out, something Tom insisted was to give them time alone but that Sybil refused to even acknowledge. Instead she droned on about their need to find their own space, referring to her grandmother's lingering presence as being similar to her parents' overprotective ways. Really though, Tom understood the issue went far deeper. Sybil did not feel confined here, but was more upset at their lack of privacy than anything else. Tom knew this because when his lips or hands found time to distract her, she actually quite liked their bed or the small corner of the laundry room where he'd once pinned her against the wall and left her breathless.

Currently Sybil huffed around the living room. Isla was being particularly fussy today and it certainly did not help that she was running on only a few hours of sleep.

"Syb, love, relax would you?" Sybil paused but only to show Tom she was not going to entertain his proposal. Seeing this, he sighed. "Syb, please."

"What Tom?" she snapped.

He sighed out. "I'm serious. C'mere."

It was clear Sybil was hesitant, but with arms crossed stiffly over her chest and her forehead furrowed, she began to walk toward Tom. When she got closer he reached out for her, pulling her down to him so she could hold his weight in his lap. Even the pads of his fingertips against her skin had Sybil feeling excited and she showed him by flashing a smile and gripping the back of his neck to keep him close. While she caught her breath Tom leaned in to nip at her lips. The action had both of them grinning now and then soon things were speeding up, with both moving against one another to display their want.

With yet another smile, Sybil moved to straddle Tom. The way she so gently cupped his face in her hands had Tom nearly melting but such a reaction was fleeting as Sybil's hand reached down to stroke him through his cotton sweatpants. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she asked in between kisses.

Tom responded similarly, now placing kisses to her neck and cleavage. "Because it makes you nervous and I like making you nervous."

"It doesn't make me nervous."

Tom picked up his head to look at her. "Are you complaining then?"

"No," she gave quickly with a shake of her head. "I...I love you," she whispered. It may not have been an opportune moment to remind him of her feelings but Tom accepted it nonetheless. Like him without his shirt, he used her words to motivate his moment, flipping both of them over so they laid down with her beneath him on the couch.

"I love you," she tried again, this time with a giggle. "I don't say it enough but I do. I love you so much, Tom."

He beamed. His hands were on her hips now, ready to pull her jeans down. He paused though and instead leaned in to give her a passionate kiss. She moaned and when their lips resistantly pulled away, he whispered back against them: "God, do I love you…"

Tom said it far more often, doing so in passing as if he felt he was not worthy for such words to fall from his lips. Even if he did love her, maybe it was best that she didn't know. He thought that once but was altogether useless against Sybil's kind heart. It was the same thing that kept him strong in prison and the very same thing that had him smiling while she giggled beneath him on this couch.

It came again. "I love you, Syb."

She nodded. "I love you too."

"So much," he then murmured into her skin while his mouth attacked her neck and his hands made caressing motions lower on her body.

"Go slow," Sybil urged. Then: "Like last time…" Her voice purred off to nothing but she felt the way Tom nearly hardened at its sound. His hands were pushing up at her shirt while his lips kissed at the newly revealed skin beneath. Goosebumps appeared on Sybil's stomach, with Sybil even shying away when Tom reached for her jeans and struggled to pull them off.

She was pantless on the couch in the living room where sunlight streamed in quite boldly through a wall of picture windows. In what she considered to be a less than alluring state, Sybil felt adored here, even with all of her so freely revealed — even when she hadn't been with Tom in over a year.

It was his mouth kissing her smooth skin first, and Tom did so over and around the soft cotton of her underwear. While he originally thought there was nothing more erotic than seeing Sybil completely in the nude, he was finding that her in a simple pair of underwear and v-neck t-shirt, the uniform she often slept in, was just as teasing.

Finally Tom flashed Sybil a knowing smile before disappearing. Her stomach tightened and her breath hitched as she waited for what was to come.

"Syb, fuck, you're...you're bleeding."

Sybil's eyes widened as she quickly sat up. "What?" But she couldn't manage much past that. Her cheeks were so red and her face so hot she thought that for a moment she ceased to exist at all. She was mortified, unable to process much else as Tom leaned forward for a tissue, using his free hand to grab for her. It was almost as if he knew she'd go running, just as she did anyway. He'd never seen her move so quickly; when they ran back to his house after their last night in Dublin she was by his side the entire time and his eyes only saw what she saw — a dark, somewhat fogged, open space up ahead.

Behind her Sybil slammed their bedroom door. The bathroom door followed, causing Tom much concern as he thought about how Isla was meant to be sleeping. When he entered their room, however, the child was still lost in slumber, meaning he could go to the bathroom to comfort her mother.

"Syb?" Tom tried with knuckles that tapped gently at the wooden door. "Syb, love, what's wrong? Everything's...everything's alright, right?"

He could hear her crying and without confirmation, imagined her sitting on the toilet seat with her head dropped down into her hands. "I'm…"

"Sybil, I'm worried, okay? Do we need to get you to a hospital? What's going on?"

Abruptly the door opened, causing Tom to nearly lose his footing and stumble backward. She chuckled and pushed past him. "I got my period. That's what's going on. So no, no need to get me to a hospital. I'm just...I'm regular again so we have to be careful."

Tom reached out to pull her in. "Syb, love…" He forced a kiss to the top of her head. "Of course we'll be careful."

"God, this is so embarrassing…"

"No it's not," Tom gave with a slight laugh. "Periods are good, right? Periods mean no babies!"

"Yeah, but that's not even to our benefit right now considering the world won't leave us alone long enough for us to be intimate."

Tom pouted. "Hey, it's alright. That was a good try, right?"

"I just want a night or a morning or ten minutes or any block of time to be with you, Tom. I don't think you…" Her words drifted off and she smiled as they disappeared. "Well, you do. I just...I'm frustrated. I'm mad at myself and I'm stressed and I just feel like we're doing what we're supposed to be doing so the least our lives could do is to slow down long enough for us to have sex!"

"Sybil Crawley, are you horny?"

"Yes!" she let out rather easily only causing Tom to drop his head back and laugh. "I am! Very much so! I never used to...I never used to care before you. I just didn't think about it. Then we met and we had this amazing night and I swear to god I could spend hours kissing you and then...and then you were gone. And I was alone again. Only this time I knew what I was missing. But now you're back and I can't...we can't...it's…" She dropped her head back into her hands, an action made easy by the way Tom enveloped her strongly.

"Syb, it's...will you please stop beating yourself up over this? It's just...it's just sex, okay? I'm...fine."

Sybil gave him a look to show that she did not, nor would she ever believe, such an improperly delivered lie. "It's not just sex to me, Tom. That's the point."

"No, I—"

"You can get angry too! I'm not going to call you some randy bloke! I...maybe I'm selfish and I'm flattered to know that you want me. After a year, maybe that's really, really nice!"

"Sybil, I told you how much I want you. I mean, of course I do. You're the mother of my daughter and my best friend and my world now. If you don't think all I want to do is show you how much you mean to me…"

While Sybil wished she could respond, all she could manage was a large, wide smile. "I'm...I'm sorry. Thank you, though. I'm sure what you were planning to do would have been wonderful."

Tom pulled her in again and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Soon, okay?"

Sybil went to walk away but felt suddenly pulled back to him, as if she owed him the words her mind had conjured. "I'm on the pill now. I mean, I obviously wasn't when we...and I was just so emotional with everything that I didn't think to ask, but—"

"Hey, Syb," Tom demanded with a voice so low and a strong grip on her wrist, feeling her pulse point beneath his thumb. "I was there too, remember? It's not your fault."

~!~

With Martha still out of town, Anna insisted she take Isla for the afternoon. She had errands to run and was now accustomed to bringing the child with her, loving pushing the stroller just as much as Isla enjoyed riding in it. While Sybil blushed to think of Martha requesting this from Anna, both she and Tom were warmed by the offer. With their most recent difficulties now passed it would give them time to at least be alone. Even things like arguing over the television's remote control or cooking a meal together were moments the couple looked forward to.

Embarrassingly enough, in the first hour they were alone, Sybil and Tom fell asleep reading. When realizing this is what they had done, Sybil only tossed their respective books away and grabbed for a blanket to cover them up.

"Listen," Sybil urged. Tom looked around but heard nothing. "It's so quiet," she whispered, only causing them both to laugh out.

"I somehow feel like when we have our flat, it will not be this quiet. This place is an anomaly." What Tom meant was that it was expensive and spacious, far from what he knew he and Sybil would someday be accustomed to.

"It's home in a way though, right?"

Tom took Sybil in, even going as far as to push back her fringe and rub at her bottom lip with his thumb. "Wherever you and Isla are, that's my home. So yes, this has been a really lovely home. For now."

"Thank you. I know this hasn't been easy for you. I know this place isn't what you stand for and that—"

"I don't really think I'm the one you should be thanking, Syb. I don't think I have room to be choosy. This lifestyle is anything but familiar but I can't complain about it. My values and what's important to me...that's second now to what Isla needs and right now it's this place. It's safe and comfortable and she has everything she needs. While it would completely obliterate my ego, I'd stay here forever if that's what she needed."

Sybil's eyes slowly shut. Such prevalent truths never sounded more lovely. "You're a charmer, Tom Branson."

"I just talk a lot," he contradicted. "You used to hate the things I said. Now I've said enough of them that they eventually had to seem appealing."

"I never hated what you said. I actually liked what you said...and hated myself for that," she joked.

Tom grinned. "God, you were sexy that morning," he explained, pushing back at her hairline once more.

"Just that morning?"

"Always," he corrected. "But after awhile it was different."

Sybil raised her eyebrows. "Different?"

"I wanted to argue with you. I thought...well, you know this now, but I thought maybe we actually could fuck and then you'd go on your merry way. But then I realized you cared and I cared too and I guess I didn't have much say in the matter. I mean, I still wanted to fuck you, but for different reasons," Tom revealed, chuckling.

Sybil laughed too. "See, charmer."

"Were you scared?"

Sybil smirked. "Terrified."

"No, you weren't!"

"I was!" she defended in a high-pitched tone. "It was an act. I finally gathered the courage to talk to you and I guess I didn't think you'd say anything back but you did and once we started talking, we didn't stop. I couldn't stop," she practically corrected.

Tom moved, this time not motivated by how sweet she was, but by the words she revealed to him. Somehow they were both once so innocent. "What did you think was going to happen?"

"I don't know," she sputtered honestly. "You'd never seen me before, remember?" she teased causing Tom's eyes to bulge in warning. "I don't think I thought anything was going to be different that day."

"You're selling yourself short, Syb."

"Apparently," she giggled. "But you invited me back to your house. What if I was some mass-murderer! You didn't know!"

"What if we fell in love!" Tom snickered. "Doesn't that seem just as rare?"

Sybil softened. It was her hands now that moved to push at his fringe. "Yes, I guess it does."

Tom smiled and leaned in. Sybil met him halfway, her lips already preparing to taste him so they fell open, inviting him inside. She moaned and was apparently surprised to hear herself because she began to laugh into the kiss causing Tom to pull away and for their noses to bump awkwardly. Persistently though, they tried again. It was not a loss, but an opportunity to breathe, one they hoped would be useful in the following moments when their lips remained latched while hands explored elsewhere.

Boldy Sybil moved Tom's hand from her neck, down to her chest. Her eyes asked him to love her there and when he did she dropped her head back, gripping the t-shirt he wore at the beautifully stinging sensation of him adoring this part of her after all this time.

"Mmmm," she managed.

Tom hissed too, stifling her own whines of pleasure while he sloppily kissed her, distracting himself from the way her hands dipped beneath his waistband.

"Go slow," he stated gruffly. "We have time…"

Both smiled and as they reconnected in such a fiery way, they fumbled to find a more comfortable position. Though they both wanted to avoid doing all of this in haste, they felt as if there would never be enough time for their hands and lips to explore one another.

Such a fact was evident in their ignorance to everything around them.

The door opened and Anna, cradling Isla into her chest, yelped when she saw Sybil and Tom atop their bed. "OH!" she managed, waking the baby up. Immediately Isla began to cry, urging Sybil to move more quickly to cover herself up so she could assist the child. "Oh god! Sybil, I am so sorry! It was so quiet. I thought you'd gone out. I just wanted to put her down…"

Tom stood with Anna, reaching for Isla so he could excuse himself. In a way, he was more mortified than Sybil. He'd come here after so long with his previous home being a jail cell. He asked Sybil to love him all this time and she did, and now he was atop her, moving so hungrily despite his usually stoic demeanor. They looked much like teenagers, far younger than they were when Isla was actually conceived.

Sybil could not find the words. All she could utter were several apologies. "I'm sorry. We're...I'm sorry," she settled again.

"No, I'm sorry. Oh, God!" Now it seemed that Anna's absence was not something planned by Martha. "I really am...I'm going to go now. Tom seems to have Isla and I don't think I'm helping much. I...I really am sorry."

Sybil was sorry too but she raised a hand in surrender toward Anna. She didn't want to discuss this anymore. Actually, she wanted to hold Isla - the girl was still the distraction she once was, erasing all of her hurt and frustration with a simple yawn or burp. With this in mind, she brushed past Anna, leaving the blonde speechless in the middle of Sybil and Tom's shared bedroom. When she left the apartment she locked the door, still embarrassed but not once questioning if the child she left behind was in loving, competent hands.

~!~

Several days passed and when Martha returned from her holiday, she said nothing of Anna's interruption. She had several opportunities too, with Sybil spending her time while Tom was at work doing domestic chores or playing on the floor with an increasingly active Isla. On one day in particular, Martha came out of her office and found several men in her home. It was Isla's naptime and Sybil was far too comfortable around them. Sybil pointed to the far wall in a guest room she had painted while Tom was still in prison. The prospect of her granddaughter even holding a paintbrush was laughable to Martha, but she allowed it nonetheless. The project distracted Sybil when Isla knew little beyond slumber.

The room was now a light pink, so light that when the morning sun hit it, it was practically white. Soon it would be matched with white furniture, a crib that matched the changing station still in her own bedroom. When the men were done placing the heavy cardboard box on the floor, they were stunned to hear that Sybil did not wish for them to put the item together. Instead she asked if they could bring Isla's changing table into the room. They happily complied, still questioning her ability to continue the remodel once they'd left. That was the case though, and Martha found Sybil putting the crib together on her own for much of the remainder of the day. When Isla woke from her midday nap, Sybil put her in her playpen on the far side of the room. By the time Tom returned home, Sybil was smoothing out sheets on Isla's mattress and Isla was back in the living room being fed by Martha.

"Ta-da!" Sybil gave lowly with hands outstretched.

Tom smirked. "Why the apathy? This looks great, Syb…"

"It was a pain in the ass to put together, I—"

Tom stepped toward her. "What?"

Sybil's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You put this together?"

"Heck yes I put this together! Why is everyone so surprised?" Sybil put her hands to her hips. "'Though she be but small, she is fierce,'" she quoted, causing Tom to chuckle.

"Alright Hermia, no need to defend yourself. I'm just saying that this is a big undertaking and I would have been more than happy to help you out. I mean, I know how much you have to do with Isla and—"

Sybil hugged Tom and she did so with little explanation. Softly she nuzzled her face against his chest, breathing in his scent. "Thank you," she whispered before pulling away, still with her hands around his waist. "I don't think many men would understand that raising a child is a job too."

"Of course it's a job," Tom laughed, almost confused that anyone could ever think otherwise. "I have the far better end of this bargain."

"Oh yeah? You don't want to stay home and take care of Isla?"

"Actually, I'd love to stay home and take care of Isla. But I don't know if I'd be able to do it alone. I mean, I don't know how you do."

"Because of how much there is to do or because I must miss you?"

"I'd struggle with both."

"I do miss you during the day. Though, I'll remind you that I did this on my own for three months, so—" Sybil's voice dropped off when she realized such a comment would never lack weight for Tom. "Tom, I didn't mean—"

"No, it's alright. I just...I'm proud of you. I love the woman you are and the mother you are to Isla."

Sybil smiled through what she felt should actually be tears. "Thank you."

Tom wrapped his arms around her and kissed the crown of her head. "Does this mean we'll put her in here tonight?"

"I feel guilty making out with you when she's in the room," Sybil admitted bluntly, causing them both to laugh out. "Even if you are her Daddy."

"I told you, she has no idea what's going on. She's always asleep and—"

Sybil looked unimpressed. "Are you complaining then?"

"No, never...nope! It's probably good anyway, right? We can get her on a schedule if we start earlier." Then again Tom needed confirmation. "Right? Those books said—"

Sybil's hand was at Tom's cheek now. "Yes. That's right."

"See? I'm not the only one with surprises. I read, remember?"

"I do remember. It was the first thing about you that I fell in love with."

~!~

"I can't believe she's down," Sybil commented. Her back was flush against their bedroom door, her head dropped back while her hands gripped the smooth wood, all of her in disbelief.

Tom chuckled. He was already walking toward the closet to toss his t-shirt into the hamper. The way in which he took off the article of clothing, grabbing for the cotton material behind his neck and pulling it upward over his head to reveal the taut muscles of his back, nearly had Sybil's knees going weak. Tom had gained a bit of weight while in prison, all of it in his arms and shoulders. She first noticed when giving him a massage the day after their arrival. These new parts of Tom were so tense, carrying with them his fears and anxieties. When she touched him it was almost as if it all melted away. It helped that while Sybil was kneading his tired flesh, Isla's small form rested in his lap, smiling as she watched her father make silly faces.

"What?"

Sybil blinked, realizing only now that she was staring. "Nothing."

Tom smirked and stepped back into her. He was wearing only boxer-briefs now and she wondered if he'd finally sleep in the nude tonight with Isla out of the room. "Syb?"

Sybil bit her lip. "Nothing," she tried again, this time conscious of just how much she was teasing.

"You are such a liar…"

"I'm not! I just...I don't have anything to say. I was admiring you. What do you want from me? I'm sorry," she tried flatly, hoping all the while that he wouldn't accept her apology.

Tom wanted to bite his lip too. He would have had he not pulled Sybil in, resting his hand on her lower back before nipping at her mouth. She responded in kind, her body softening enough for her hands to travel upward to cup his face. When air, or the lack thereof, became an issue the two pulled away. Sybil showed Tom her smile but was so elated she couldn't yet open her eyes. Seeing this, Tom leaned in again to kiss her. It seemed that now matter how much Sybil inhaled, she'd forever be breathless. This theme continued when she felt Tom's hands fall from her back to rest on the curve of her backside.

"I'm admiring you," he teased against her lips.

Again Sybil was smiling widely. She giggled as those same hands squeezed her flesh, causing her to gently trust him with all of her weight. Tom must have expected the movement (perhaps he had planned it all along) because his hands held her so delicately. Sybil was free to kiss his face and then his neck without once thinking about her position in his arms.

"Bed," she whispered. "Or wall." She paused to taste him once more. "Or floor. I really don't care at this point."

"Bed," Tom agreed. He thought of the last time they'd done this and how immature he felt holding her in his childhood bed. The space of the twin mattress provided for intimacy when the two needed nothing else but he was sure it wasn't as comfortable for Sybil as she was most likely used to. This bed, King in size and outfitted with plush white sheets, was what she deserved. This is the bed Tom always wished to make love to Sybil in.

Clumsily the two toppled over, the mattress meeting their weight with much resistance causing their noses to bump as they finally settled atop the comforter there. Sybil laughed again, dropping her head back in a way that gave Tom space to suck on the skin of her neck.

"You smell good," he mumbled before marking her once more.

"You feel good," she emphasized. Her nails dug into his back to keep him close. To Sybil the feeling was so intoxicating she might as well have been floating. She didn't care about the looks her grandmother would give her in the morning or the way that perhaps people in the market would stare. It was ridiculous to Sybil how much a wedding ring stood for when kisses and other forms of intimacy, pure proof of love, were looked down upon.

Lightly Sybil nudged Tom with her shoulder. He picked his head up, suddenly looking concerned. "What? Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" This was not the boy who shot the boy who shot his best friend. This man she loved couldn't possibly have been in prison just weeks ago.

Sybil shook her head as she moved to sit up. Tom followed, his eyes tracing her form as she pulled her tank top off. She wore nothing underneath and the sight had Tom's mouth going dry. He swallowed, only making the problem worse. It was laughable to him all the rumors that existed back in Dublin about his personal life. Now here he was, very much in love and feeling like a pubescent boy at the sight of Sybil so exposed.

For a moment Sybil thought of teasing him. While his expression was a humorous one, soon she was warmed by it. Sybil was always able to see sides of Tom that no one else could. This was further proof of that and she was honored to see him this vulnerable with her. All she could do was kiss him, cupping his face and asking that he respond in kind. He did, with his hand previously holding her hip to now travel upward and caress some of the skin she'd just revealed to him. Together the two tumbled back again,

Tom wished to kiss Sybil. If he was being honest with himself, the time they were currently given to do just that somehow seemed to be enough. Though they'd both been craving this intimacy for quite some time, it was nice to even be allowed sweet moments like this one, where hands lustfully danced across one another without appease his mouth, his lips left hers and traveled downward, dancing a path along her chin, then to the valley of her breasts and beyond. Meanwhile his hands held a steady grip on her hips, keeping her body still, or rather, feeling as she squirmed beneath his touch.

"Tom, please…"

His fingers tapped at her stomach, all of it just as it was when they'd first been together. Tom took a moment to place his hands to her tummy, still amazed that at one point it was Isla's home. Then for a moment he thought of Sybil pregnant again and how he'd adore Isla even more then, just as he'd soon adore her new baby brother or sister.

Goosebumps appeared on Sybil's skin. It was as if she was rejecting his touch but nothing about the way she raised her hips to accommodate him ridding her of her underwear, was unclear. In fact, Tom watched Sybil's breathing quicken when she was completely naked in front of him. It had been awhile since he'd seen her like this, at least in this way.

He picked up his head and smiled before leaning down to spread her folds. Slowly his tongue darted out, placed flat to her center and then dragged all the way up where his lips pulsed around her clit. The sensation had her throwing her head back and forgetting she'd ever asked him to abstain from such an activity. But this wasn't about that and although she hoped someday soon that they would get there, she needed Tom in other ways. He did make her feel good, even that first night when things were awkward and fumbling and new. She wanted that, she lusted after that, but other parts, like the pads of her fingertips and her eyes, needed more.

"Tommm," Sybil whined. Though she contested each hand had a tight grip on the sheet below. She was thankful her grandmother's room was on the far end of the apartment because she was almost sure she'd let out several sensual cries at this point.

"Sybil, love, I have to be honest and tell you that I don't really know what I'm doing but that I've wanted to do this for the longest time and now it's hard to stop when your face looks like that…"

Sybil's head shot up. "Like what?" Her skin was glistening, warmed by the single bedside lamplight. Her hair was parted to the side, causing most of her frizzy locks to land on one side of her face. The quirky yet blissful look of her had Tom smiling again.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. The words propelled him upward, leaving his desired task to give her a fiery kiss. Together the two inhaled as it all increased in passion. Somehow Sybil's hands had traveled to Tom's waist where her fingers immediately dipped beneath the band of his boxers. That same touch aided her in pulling the material off Tom's bottom, revealing himself to her only to cause a slightly humorous moment while he sat up to officially remove the offending article. The speed at which it flew across the room had Sybil laughing. Such a sound was only hindered when Tom was back on top of her, kissing her lips and playing with the pert nipples of her chest.

"Tom?"

He was elated, unable to look at her without beaming. "Yeah, love?"

Sybil giggled at the sight of him. "I want…"

"What?"

"I miss you, alright? Please...I...I'm so sorry to rush this part and normally, I mean, someday soon we can, but...God, it's been so long, and... " Sybil's voice trailed off. She moved a hand up to her face but Tom stopped her, aiding her in wiping away a few stray tears.

"Syb, please don't cry, alright?"

"I'm sorry," she said, now trying to regain her composure. "Sometimes I still can't believe you're here."

"Sometimes I still can't believe you've let me be here."

Sybil's face became serious. "Of course I have. I love you, Tom. I'm in love with you. You're the father of my daughter and I love the man you are. Where else would we be?"

"Dublin," he shrugged. "Maybe someday."

Sybil softened, nearly beginning to cry again. "It's weird how the places you once thought you hated are the same places your heart misses the most."

"You miss it too?"

"I miss the Dublin you showed me. I didn't like it much before then. It was better than London, but no better than this past year without you." Sybil paused. "Do you like it here? If we can't ever go back to Dublin, do you think you could build your life here?"

"My life?" Tom chuckled. "Our life," he corrected. "Absolutely." He leaned in to kiss Sybil's forehead. "I love you, Syb. I'm in love with you." It was a mantra now and each time it was said a tally was made, crossing it off the list of lost declarations of love created this past year.

Sybil placed her hands to the back of Tom's neck, latching them there then using their shared strength to pull him toward her. They continued to kiss, ignoring how they bumped teeth while Tom controlled his weight atop her.

"You ready?" Tom asked. His hand traveled south to tease at her center. It was for his benefit and hers. Last time he'd hurt her. Even a small wince of pain was more than he ever wanted to give her.

Sybil nodded before kissing him again. Pulling away, she beamed. "God, I love you."

Slowly Tom pushed inside Sybil. Just as gingerly, her fingertips gripped his shoulders while she looked down to where their bodies met. Tom watched too before dropping his head to her neck, holding her tight while they rocked against one another.

"Tell me what to do…" After he said it, Tom shut his eyes. It was an honest offer but it sounded rather dull hitting the air.

Sybil could only concentrate on her breathing while her nails dug deeper into the flesh of his back. Amongst his freckles her nails dragged downward creating a swollen constellation she was sure would scab over come morning. "You're doing it."

Tom smiled. Soon his mouth was on her chest, but only momentarily. The two couldn't remain disconnected for too long, and the more this went on, it was all they could manage. Everything was so slow but their kisses varied in speed as if they truly did have all night to finally figure this out.

Tom blinked heavily, needing a break if only to breathe. Still his hips moved, a task made easier when he felt Sybil's heels dig into his back. Though he was sure he was far closer to climax than she was, Tom couldn't help but to meet her. Each thrust had her hips rising and now her fingers were gently scraping at the back of his neck.

"I love you," he mumbled.

Sybil smiled. "Let go." Tom shook his head, unable to speak when he was so concentrated on remaining in control. When her words were faulty, she reached down to place her hands to his backside. She felt his muscles move beneath her palm and she aided in this, pushing him down toward her and finally causing him to groan out a profanity before practically collapsing atop her.

Sybil smoothed back his hairline before kissing the revealed skin there. "You're handsome, Tom Branson."

He chuckled against her bare chest. "I'm the worst boyfriend ever. Do you see now why I wanted to go down on you?"

Sybil was a mother. She was pregnant and this was not the first time she'd had sex and certainly not the first time she'd thought of the act. Even so, Tom's statement had her giggling behind her hand. "It's not about that for me, darling. And it still feels good."

"Yeah, but I want it to feel that good for you too," he emphasized with a nod in the direction of the space he was previously occupying.

"We have lots of time," Sybil sang teasingly.

Tom picked up his head. "Promise?"

Again Sybil was laughing. Her hand remained raking through his hair. In his ear she softly whispered her intention once more. Tom responded just as effortlessly, a simple "I love you" falling from his lips before the two reattached.

"I could lay in this bed forever," Tom mumbled. He had a strong grip around Sybil's waist now, amused by the swap that had occurred since the last time they were in this situation. "Your stomach is the same," he blurted out next.

Tom could feel Sybil's body shake beneath his as she let out another series of laughs. "What did you expect it to be like?"

"Well I unfortunately did not have the pleasure of seeing you pregnant," he said, doing as he often did lately: pointing out the obvious facts in a situation so as to own the pain he caused and still felt. "But I imagine you had quite the bump."

"I did," Sybil agreed. "I was pretty large."

"I can't wait," Tom whispered.

Sybil smirked. "Someday. Maybe when we have a flat."

"When we're married," he suggested.

Sybil froze. "You want that?"

Tom picked his head up and nodded. "Don't you?" His shoulders slumped. "What? Did you think I just wanted to knock you up over and over again and not call you mine? What fun would that be?"

"Fun for you, I imagine."

Tom reached for Sybil's free hand and kissed her knuckles. "Not in the slightest. I'd like it if...it'd mean the world to me if you agreed to marry me someday."

"Alright," Sybil sighed out as if the prospect of such a thing was a chore and not the one question she'd forever crave. "But you have to make me orgasm first. It's only fair."

At hearing this Tom sat up. His eyes widened and his hands reached for her, ready to throw her body toward the other side of the bed so he could begin to attempt that very task. Already she was laughing, sure that even if Tom never figured her body out (as he did only two nights later), she'd love him anyway. It wouldn't be the first thing she'd forgiven him for and certainly not the last but the love he provided her in the time in between was enough to make all of that insignificant.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!

x. Elle