Little Miss Suzy
aka "the Suzy Universe AU"
by The Yankee Countess

Hey everyone! I decided to (at long last) bring my "Suzy Universe" drabbles from tumblr over to FF. So that is what this is; if you follow my Suzy AU stories, you'll see a lot of the ones you already know that were posted back in November and December, plus a few new ones here and there that I'll add. BUT FIRST, here's a "prequel" to when those drabbles began, showing when Tom and Sybil first (and Suzy, of course) first met. Dedicating this chapter to andorra97 for her birthday :o) Hope you enjoy and thanks for your support!

"When Suzy (and her mother) met Mr. Tom"

Dublin, Ireland
May

Susan Crawley (Suzy for short), watched as the movers her mother had hired lugged the heavier pieces of furniture into the flat from the stairwell.

Actually…with the exception of a few pieces (the wooden trunk that contained her toys, an antique mirror that had come from her mother's home in Yorkshire), none of this furniture was theirs. The table, chairs, couch, beds—even the television, were pieces her mother had bought from some sort of "second-hand" website, prior to when they made the move to Dublin.

Suzy nibbled her bottom lip and hugged her stuffed rabbit a little closer as she watched the bed that would be hers, being moved into the room that would be hers as well. Her mother was in the middle of it all, trying her best to direct the movers where to take the furniture, while at the same time frowning at each piece being brought in, muttering over and over, "this can't be right, it didn't look like that in the picture…"

Suzy turned her face to the window then and looked out the window at the grounds below. She hadn't seen any other children yet, though her mother had told her there was a park nearby, and a playground. Maybe they could go to that later? She hoped so; she missed the friends she had left behind in York. And she was nervous because she'd be starting school soon…

"Right, that's the last of it!" one of the movers announced. Suzy turned to see the bald man with a shiny head (he was the leader) hand her mother a piece of paper and a pen. She noticed her mother's eyes widened in surprise, before looking up at the bald man with confusion. But he didn't say anything, he just tapped the pen against the paper, and with a sigh, her mother took the pen and signed where he had been tapping.

"Welcome to Dublin," the man said as a way of goodbye, before turning and shutting the door behind him…leaving Suzy and her mother alone at last in their new flat.

"Well…" her mother sighed, turning to Suzy then and offering her a loving smile which Suzy tried to return. "Home sweet home."

"Mummy, can we go to the park now?"

Her mother's expression fell and she shook her head. "Not today, darling. We need to finish unpacking and get everything in order. Besides, it's starting to get dark."

Suzy couldn't help but pout at her mother's answer, but didn't try to argue otherwise. She knew that this was hard for her mother, that her mother missed their home back in York just as much as she did. "Ok," Suzy mumbled, before moving down the hallway to her new bedroom.

"Sweetheart, how would you like pizza for dinner?"

Suzy loved pizza, but the pizza wouldn't be the same like it was from Mr. Abdul's. Nor would the park or the playground or anyone they met; they would all sound different too, just like the bald man and the movers.

She clutched her rabbit even tighter and sniffled. Nothing would be the same…

Sybil clutched the windowsill of the living room window and gazed out at the setting sun, fighting back her own tears that threatened to fall. Don't cry, don't you dare cry! You need to be strong, for both of you, especially Suzy. This was going to be hardest on her, moving to another country and just before starting school where she didn't know anyone. Damn you, Jonathon, she silently cursed, a few bitter tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks at the thought.

Was that fair? Placing all this blame on Suzy's father? She could have stood up to him, confronted him and gotten a restraining order. Or she could have taken Suzy back to Downton and hope to reconcile with her family, while finding shelter and solace in her childhood home. Or she could have told the world to "piss off!" she wasn't going anywhere, she and Suzy didn't need any of them!

…But she didn't. She did what she always seemed to do as of late.

She ran. She uprooted her and Suzy's world and raced off to some other place in the name of "starting anew".

You can't keep doing this, she chastised herself. You can't keep running, not again, not a third time. You need to settle someplace, Suzy needs some kind of stability, and this isn't fair to her! She just hoped and prayed that as bleak as things seemed right now, Dublin would turn out to be more of a blessing than a curse for them.

"Mummy?"

Sybil was jolted back by the sound of her daughter's voice. She quickly wiped her cheeks. "Yes, darling?"

"Mummy, there's this strange sound coming from my room…"

Sybil frowned. Now what? The flat wasn't so bad; lived in, but not run-down, though the furniture had more ware on it than the website where she had purchased it had shown, and the cost for the movers to bring the stuff upstairs was considerably more than she had anticipated either. She just hoped that whatever the issue was, it could be easily solved.

"Sound?" she asked, entering Suzy's bedroom. Her daughter was on her hands and knees, and peering under the bed. Sybil heard the sound too…a strange, clunking sound…like old pipes creaking…

"It's coming from under my bed," Suzy told her, clutching her toy bunny a little tighter. "You told me there's no such thing as monsters…"

Sybil looked at Suzy and quickly shook her head. "There aren't," she confirmed. At least not the kind that exist in storybooks.

"But you said Ireland is the land where leprechauns come from!" Suzy's face looked both unsure and excited. "Maybe…"

She didn't want to dash her daughter's fantasies, but at the same time she needed to make it clear it wasn't some little mythological creature making that noise. "It looks like there's a vent under your bed," she told her daughter. She frowned at this; how could the movers have missed that? "We'll need to move your bed."

Suzy made a face at this. "But Mummy—"

"It needs to be done, darling," Sybil insisted. She moved to one end of the bed and wrapped her hands around a post before starting to tug.

It didn't budge.

Sybil frowned. It was a child's bed; it shouldn't be that difficult to maneuver?

She gritted her teeth and used a little more force.

It moved an inch, maybe two.

"Is it heavy, Mummy?"

Surprisingly so.

"Should I help?"

"No darling," Sybil shook her head. "No, I…I don't want you to get your fingers or toes squished…" she rolled her sleeves up and looked around the room, noticing Suzy's basket containing her favorite DVD's. "Why don't you take those out to the living room?"

Suzy looked unsure, but finally conceded, doing as her mother had suggested, leaving Sybil alone with the child's bed. Right…just put your strength into it, Sybil told herself, before gripping the bedpost once again and starting to tug. She strained and groaned and gasped and if her fingers could scream, they would. Pulling wasn't doing any good…maybe she would have more luck pushing? She just needed to get between the bed and the wall…

"I can do this," she muttered to herself. "I've raised a daughter on my own, I've moved the both of us to Ireland, and I can move a stupid bed!"

She was so engrossed in her task, she never heard the knock on the door…

The movers were exiting the building when Tom walked up the path towards the door. He knew he was getting some new neighbors, but that was all; the landlord hadn't revealed anything else about them—he just hoped that whoever they were, weren't too loud after midnight (unlike the previous tenants who were trying to start a band and kept playing well into the night).

"She was a right looker, wasn't she?" one of the movers muttered to another as he passed them.

She, huh?

"Wouldn't mind 'playing house' with her—"

"Oi, enough, Mickey," another mover muttered. "She has a kid!"

A kid?

"She needs a man then," the one called Mickey chuckled.

"Oh, and you're volunteering for the job?"

"Like I said, I wouldn't mind—"

"Enough," a large, bald man muttered, shoving "Mickey's" shoulder. The bald man caught Tom's eye, which may have explained why he didn't want discussing clients to be heard.

"Poor lass," another man murmured. "Something…or someone drove her here."

"Whoever he was, he was a right idiot to let a pretty thing like her—"

"ENOUGH!" the bald man growled. "Get in the truck," he ordered, and that was the last Tom heard from the lot.

In the short time he had passed the movers, he had already gained more knowledge about his new neighbor than his landlord had been able to tell him.

Correction: new neighbors; a mother and a child, and based on what he had heard them say, the husband/father wasn't in the picture.

Tom's first instinct was to pity the woman, but then he realized how patronizing that could be. He didn't know her, he didn't know anything about her or her story or reason for moving there, and it would be horribly unfair of him to base everything he knew about her (which was bare minimum) on what a bunch of strangers said who had only known her for however long it took them to lug her furniture up the stairs?

He decided that he would go over at some point to introduce himself…but he would also make sure to keep his distance; be friendly and "neighborly", but respect boundaries too.

He reached his floor (their floor), and debated for a moment if he should knock on their door now, but then he remembered that the movers had just left, and his neighbors might like some time to themselves, so he turned and entered his own flat instead.

He was in his kitchen, debating about what to make for himself for dinner when he heard the sound of…grunting?

Tom frowned and lifted his head, straining his ears at the sound.

The grunting had turned to muttering, and he could hear a woman's voice through the kitchen wall. He couldn't make out the words she was saying, but he could tell that they were being spoken in frustration…and her voice also sounded strained.

He then heard the sound of something scraping the floor, and he could only conclude that she was trying to move something (and that it was something heavy).

Tom shut his refrigerator and left the flat, deciding to put on his figurative "friendly next-door neighbor" hat, and make a quick introduction, as well as see if he could be of some service in helping move whatever she was struggling with.

He knocked the door and waited.

…Nothing.

Maybe she couldn't hear him?

He knocked again, a little louder, and waited.

A small, muffled voice could be heard on the other side of the door. The movers had said she had a child; how old was this child?

The question was answered when the doorknob suddenly turned and a small face peeked out and gazed up at him with wide, curious blue eyes.

Tom looked at the girl and offered her a kind smile. "Um…hi, my name's Tom," he introduced. "I live next door."

The child's eyes widened even more. She was clutching some kind of stuffed animal.

"I heard your…mother?" he continued.

The girl glanced over her shoulder then turned back to him. "Mummy's trying to move my bed," she answered.

Tom's eyes widened a little at hearing the child's accent.

"Um…would your mother like some help?"

The child assessed him for a moment…then without another word, suddenly opened the door widely to him, and with a big, warm friendly grin on her face, said, "Sure!" before skipping away out of sight.

Tom stood frozen. "Um…?" He didn't feel right just…entering someone else's place. He was hoping the child would go and get her mother, and he could speak with her face to face from the safety of her doorway, rather than go and seek her out.

He wasn't sure what to do. Perhaps call out? However, he heard a loud thump followed by a hiss of pain and a curse, and despite his better judgment, Tom entered the flat, moving quickly down the corridor to where the child had gone and where the swearing had come from.

"Hello?" he called out.

A gasp was heard from a room and the child who had greeted him at the door poked her head out and grinned at him. "Hello!" she answered back.

"Suzy? Who—?"

"He said his name is 'Tom'."

"I'm Tom…"

Both his voice, and the child's, spoke at the same moment. The little girl giggled, finding the moment quite funny, while Tom blushed and tentatively approached the room where she was standing. "Um…sorry, I live next door? I heard what sounded like…?"

He looked into the room then and saw the child's mother, red-faced and gasping, several sweaty strands of dark hair hanging down her face. She made an effort to push the strands out of her eyes and met his gaze, her face growing even darker then.

Tom looked back at her, and blinked for a moment.

"That's my mummy," the little girl told him.

Tom blinked and then looked down at the girl then back at the woman. Don't just stand there, you idiot! "Do you need some help?"

Now the woman was blinking, as if registering what he had just said.

Tom swallowed then decided to introduce himself once more. "I'm Tom," he repeated from before. "I live next door and I heard—"

"Oh God," the woman groaned, sounding utterly embarrassed at this revelation. "I'm so, so sorry for having disturbed you—"

"What? No! No, you didn't disturb me, but it sounded like you were struggling with something, so I just thought I would…see if I could be of any help," he finished, feeling a bit bashful all of a sudden, especially when he looked into her eyes. She has gorgeous eyes…same eyes as her daughter.

The woman pressed her lips together for a moment, then straightened herself, stepping away from the bed and still blushing, but clearing her throat before approaching him with an extended hand. "I'm Sybil," she introduced.

"Tom," he answered for a third time while shaking her hand, blushing at the realization but thankfully, she…smiled.

Oh God, her smile…

"It's nice to meet you, Tom."

She sounded genuine, to which he was grateful. He didn't want to get off on the wrong foot. He found himself smiling back at her.

"I'm Suzy!"

Tom and Sybil both seemed to "wake" from their little stupor at the child's happy voice. Tom looked down at the girl and found himself quickly grinning back. She had a very infectious smile.

"I'm pleased to meet you too, Suzy."

Suzy extended her hand to him and Tom shook it just as he had shaken Sybil's. Suzy giggled at this then looked at her mother. "Is he going to help move my bed now?"

Sybil blushed then looked back at him. "Oh…I um…"

"I don't mind," he was quick to assure. "Honestly, if I can be of any help, I'd like to be."

She blushed again, but with a small smile and a nod of her head, she pointed to the bed and explained that she was trying to move it because it was accidently on top of an air vent, and much to her surprise…it was proving to be most difficult to move.

Tom nodded his head and moved to where Sybil had been and started to push…and while he had a bit of an easier time than she with moving the bed, he had to agree that yes, it was difficult.

But eventually (along with Sybil's help) they got it moved to where Suzy wanted it (and away from the air vent it had been blocking), and as Tom wiped his brow, he overheard Suzy say to her mother, "Mr. Tom is really strong!"

Sybil told the child to hush.

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep his grin at bay, Tom swallowed and then looked back at Sybil and asked, "Um…can I help with anything else?"

Sybil seemed to be chewing her bottom lip as if contemplating the offer. "Well…I…I hate to ask…"

"Please, I honestly don't mind," he assured.

"Well…I just want to make sure we're not accidently covering any more vents," she explained.

Tom smiled and nodded his head, before following Sybil and checking the various rooms.

Thankfully, no other vents were covered up, and there were only a few pieces of furniture that required his help. When he had finished, he noticed Sybil was moving to get her purse, and quickly realized what she intended to do. "No, that's alright."

"But—"

"It's fine," he assured. "Truly, I'm glad I could help and…besides, I was just doing what any good neighbor would do—what any decent neighbor should do."

Sybil seemed to hesitate, still looking like she might insist that he take something. But before the issue could be carried further, Suzy interrupted with, "do you like pizza, Mr. Tom?"

Tom couldn't help but grin and chuckle at both Suzy's question, and the way she said his name. "I do, actually. There's this really good place I know…and you can just call me 'Tom'," he told her. Then looking at Sybil, he added, "If that's ok with your mother, of course."

Suzy's eyes had gone wide then. "Mummy! He knows a place where we can get pizza!"

Sybil looked back at him, and a smile began to spread across her face. "Well…perhaps you can join us for some pizza?"

His eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. "Oh, I…I didn't mean you had to…" he blushed, feeling embarrassed to think that perhaps she had assumed he was trying to get them to buy him dinner.

"Please, let me," Sybil insisted, then with a blush, corrected, "let us," she put her arm around Suzy then. "It's the least we can do for your help." She giggled and then gave him a little wink before adding, "It's what a decent neighbor would do."

The sound of her laughter and the sight of her winking at him caused his heart to skip a beat or two. He nodded his head, not exactly trusting his voice at the moment (he'd be squeaking as if he were an adolescent boy), and then gave them the number to the pizzeria that he knew.

Hours later, Tom found himself back inside his flat. He collapsed onto his own couch with a full stomach, a few aching muscles, and his head spinning and heart thumping loudly.

He had only just met them, and yet…those few hours he had spent in the company of Sybil and Suzy Crawley were some of the happiest he had experienced in a long time, and…even though he had just met them, he couldn't believe just how "natural" it all had felt, sitting and talking and laughing with them like that. He had been charmed by both mother and daughter, and oddly felt as if he had known them forever.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Careful, Tom, his mind warned. But his heart already knew that it was too late.

…Next door, Suzy was starting to fall asleep while her mother read to her. Sybil closed the book and kissed her daughter's brow, before quietly pulling the blankets up.

"Mummy?" Suzy sleepily mumbled.

"Go to bed, sweetheart," Sybil whispered.

Suzy mumbled something else, which to Sybil sounded like, "I'm glad we met Tom…"

Sybil gazed down at her daughter, her hand stroking Suzy's soft, brown hair. She didn't answer back, at least not out loud, but she found herself silently nodding her head in response.

She had only just met him, and yet…she had never felt so comfortable in the presence of another person.

Sighing and shaking her head, Sybil rose and crossed the room to turn off the light and shut the door ajar. But before she did, she heard Suzy mumble again, "I like him…"

Sybil held her breath and listened as the soft, faint snores of her daughter began to fill the room. She smiled at the sound…and once again, like before, found herself nodding her head in agreement.