Merry Christmas everyone! So, here's my Secret Santa S/T fic exchange for Ducky82, organised by Repmet. I hope I've done justice to the prompt I was given and I hope you all enjoy the story. So, merry Christmas, and if you don't celebrate then I hope your day is just as good as any other to say goodbye to a wonderful year. Please review if you like it.

Rekindled Love

Sybil, wearing knee-high reindeer socks and the warmest hoodie she owned, walked down the corridor from the kitchen to the living room with Gwen, wearing red and green to get into the festive spirit, on her tail, each of them holding warm mugs of tea. Gwen was attempting (and had been for the last hour) to persuade Sybil to agree to her suggestion of a blind date. "Oh, come on," Gwen urged with a smirk evident in her light Scottish tone. "You've got nothing to lose."

"But I have no idea who this guy is!" Sybil said with a small laugh, taking one hand away from her mug to make ambiguous gestures. "For all I know, we might hate each other." Sybil perched herself on her cream leather sofa and Gwen followed suit, sitting up and leaning slightly forward in a way that she knew would make it hard for Sybil to say no to her suggestion.

"You might, but I'm willing to bet you won't. I know Tom, Syb. You'll get on like a house on fire. You'll match on every level. He's Irish and I've known him for ages; it's always nice to see him at work. And you always tell me how arm muscles are a turn on, so you're sorted in that department. Actually, come to think of it, it must be a massive pain for him to find shirts and jackets that fit properly." Gwen paused as she let her mind wander on the topic and Sybil raised an eyebrow at her best friend and laughed at the way in which she could so easily distract her own train of thought. When Gwen realised that Sybil was staring at her and laughing, she smiled herself and said enthusiastically, "Just meet him. You don't ever have to see him again after that; just one meeting?" She had a pleading look in her eyes and used her best puppy-dog-eyes-even-though-my-eyes-aren't-large-and-brown expression to try to win Sybil over.

"But why?" Sybil whined desperately. "I barely have time to breathe; I don't have time for a blind date."

"Exactly!" Gwen exclaimed. "You're always working; you never stop. You need to relax and a date is the perfect way to relax. You haven't had a date for two years. One date can't hurt. It's only one evening of your life. Come on, please. I know you've spent evenings before doing less desirable things. You'll really hit it off, I know you will," Gwen begged, biting her full lower lip in anticipation of her best friend's answer. Sybil took a deep breath and huffed,

"Fine!" She looked sidelong at Gwen. "But only," she added quickly before Gwen could get too excited, "because it's the only way to get you off my back about this. But I'm warning you now, I don't need a boyfriend right now, so if this doesn't work out and if you've got his hopes up and I accidentally break his heart, it's totally your fault." She gave Gwen a knowing look, but couldn't stay serious for long – not with Gwen practically ready to burst from excitement at the prospect of setting up two friends on a date.

"Good! I'm prepared to take the blame because I know there will be no blame to be taken in the end because you'll love him!" Gwen squealed. It was almost as if her sole purpose in life was to set Sybil up on a date with this Irishman from work. Sybil thought she seemed far too overexcited, especially as Gwen wasn't actually the one with the date, but it felt wrong to burst her bubble. And Gwen was right – one evening wasn't a huge loss, and Sybil really didn't have anything to lose as far as love was concerned. "I'll organise it with Tom, and then I'll tell you where to meet and what to wear and all that," she said, a grin on her face that could never be stopped.

"I'm working Monday evening, so that's out, but I could do any other evening next week, I think," Sybil said, flicking through her mental calendar of events. She'd barely finished her sentence when Gwen shrieked,

"Marvellous! Oh, this is going to be fantastic, Sybil!"

One Week Later

"Which one?" Sybil asked, holding up two dresses, putting one immediately in front of her body and then the other. She was asking advice from Gwen and Anna. The three of them had been friends since they were young girls, much to Sybil's parents' disapproval, but that had never stopped Sybil from anything before and neither did it stop her from staying friends with the girls. Anna tilted her head to the side and was about to say something when Gwen tersely said,

"Neither."

"But, the blue one's my favourite dress!" Sybil exclaimed, her facial expression twisting at Gwen's short and unsatisfactory answer.

"And you look gorgeous every time you wear it," Gwen said, knowingly, "but it's not right for this sort of date."

"What do you mean 'this sort of date'?" Sybil asked indignantly. "It's just dinner."

"It's not 'just dinner'," Gwen said, mocking Sybil's tone.

"She's right," Anna added. "A blind date isn't your average date." Gwen was already sifting through Sybil's wardrobe and Anna stood from the bed to go and join her. Sybil slumped in her desk chair, getting increasingly unsure about whether she wanted to go on this date with this mystery man whom she may or may not like. Anna and Gwen were murmuring to each other as they went through each of Sybil's dresses, keeping note of which were possibilities and which were absolute no-nos. "What about this one?" Anna asked sweetly as she pulled a dress out of the wardrobe by its hanger. Sybil saw it and smiled. She loved that dress. It was black and knee length with an almost full circle skirt, laden with golden roses. It was pulled in perfectly at her waist and the V-neck widened into sleeveless shoulders.

"That's gorgeous, Syb," Gwen stated proudly. "I've never seen you wear that before."

"I usually only wear it on special occasions. I could wear it tonight if you think it'll do," she said in a tone that ought to have had a shrug of the shoulders attached to it.

"Do?" Anna stated emphatically. "Sybil, this is perfect!"

"Don't you think it will be a little cold?" Sybil asked, slightly sceptical.

"Not with this!" Gwen said, turning to grab a black shawl from a compartment in Sybil's wardrobe. She turned to see Sybil's uneasy expression. "Oh, come on, Syb, it's not that bad," she soothed.

"Why don't you get changed?" Anna suggested. "If you hate it, you don't have to go."

"Alright," Sybil said, rising from her chair to swap the two dresses she had originally suggested and was still holding for the one in Anna's hands. She took it to her en suite and swapped her jeans for the dress. Before showing Anna and Gwen she looked in the full length mirror, pondering the choice. She turned either way and placed her hands on her hips and admired the image. They were right – it was beautiful, and it was undoubtedly better than the blue one for a first date. She took a deep breath and opened the door to her bedroom, prepared for a range of reactions. Both Anna and Gwen were speechless. Anna's eyes lit up and Gwen couldn't stop staring at the dress. "Any good?" Sybil asked, though she was confident of the answer.

"It's perfect!" they both said together. They sprung up from the bed and rushed to give Sybil a hug.

"Now we have to get the rest sorted out," Gwen said decisively.

"The rest?" Sybil asked in disbelief.

"Your hair, she means," Anna said. "And your make up."

"And we need to choose shoes and a bag," Gwen said. "And I think you should wear tights too." Sybil had forgotten how much work first dates really were, but seeing the girls' reaction to her outfit had given her the confidence she needed and actually, spending time together getting her ready would probably be great fun.

Anna and Gwen prepared Sybil by suggesting how to do her makeup and how to style her hair. Everything was a collective effort and everything was done to high standards. Anna and Gwen wouldn't allow Sybil to go and meet Tom if she was looking anything less than perfect. They carefully put her hair in a high ponytail, pinning any fly-aways down and creating the perfect fall of dark curls down her back. Sybil winged her eyeliner as instructed by Gwen and after much deliberation, it was decided that the dress suited a deep pink lipstick rather than a bright red or a lip gloss. Every pair of black heels in Sybil's cupboard were taken out, tried on, put back and taken out again, with Sybil's complaints of 'Do I have to wear heels?' and the unanimous chorus of 'Yes' before it was decided that one of Sybil's plain black patent pairs with a not-too-high heel and small platform was the best option. Gwen left Anna and Sybil to find jewellery as she went to find the right bag for the outfit. Gwen came back to find Sybil wearing a fine golden chain with a small, diamond star in the centre and plain small golden studs in her ears. Gwen would expect to find a bracelet with an outfit like this, but she knew that Sybil avoided wearing them at all costs, so she didn't say anything. Gwen handed Sybil the bag and together the three of them filled it with all the necessary items for the evening. Taking a last look at Sybil, Gwen ordered her to take her watch off as it didn't go with the look of the outfit. Sybil complained, but obeyed, just as Gwen knew she would.

Anna glanced at the clock and said, "We're going to have to go if we want to be there on time."

"We?" Sybil said, giving the two of them a pointed look.

"We're driving you there and dropping you off. I promise we'll leave you alone after that."

"You better had."

"We promise," Anna said. "Come on, let's get moving." Gwen led the way down the stairs with Anna bringing up the rear. Gwen clambered into the driver's seat and Anna helped Sybil into the passenger seat before getting in the back herself. It was incredibly cold. Sybil could only hope the restaurant was warm. Why was she going on a first date in pretty, but not practical clothes in the middle of winter, just before Christmas? Oh yes, because her completely bonkers-beyond-belief best friend persuaded her to. That girl would be the death of her one day.

Gwen and Anna left Sybil after asking multiple times whether she was going to be okay and telling her that they were only a text away and that if she needed anything, they could and would help. Sybil's incessant cries of 'I'm fine' and 'Just leave, will you?' finally got through and she was left on the pavement. She crossed the road and waited outside the restaurant for her mysterious date to show his face, wrapping her shawl more tightly round her shoulders to keep out the cold. She'd been waiting for less than five minutes when Tom caught her attention. "Oh my God!" Sybil shrieked, a little too loudly to be polite. Suddenly memories returned to her mind.

ooo

Two Years Previously

Sybil stumbled into the busy coffee shop from the cold outside. She readjusted the positioning of her scarf and pulled her worn out woollen gloves from her fingers, slipping her bags of shopping further up her arms. She quietly joined the end of the two person queue and contemplated the blackboard on the wall behind the counter, contemplating what might be a good drink to buy on such a bone-chilling day. It only took a few minutes before she was being served. She decided upon a gingerbread latte, appropriate for the time of year. Christmas was less than three weeks away now. As she turned around with her drink in one hand and her open purse in the other, she scanned the room to find no free tables. Drinking on the go wasn't an option – she'd come into the coffee shop for a rest more than anything, so the only thing she could do was to ask to share a table with someone. She went for the nearest free seat, which was half way across the seating area. "Excuse me, sorry, there are no spare tables, could I…?" she asked, gesturing towards the spare seat.

"Of course," the man answered. He was Irish, and Sybil noticed his sparkling blue eyes as he looked at her and agreed to her request. As Sybil sat down, he enveloped his bookmark in the pages of his book, which made Sybil hurriedly say,

"Oh, I don't want to stop you reading. I don't mind, really."

"It's no problem. It's not the best book I've ever read anyway," he said with a small smile pushing the book slightly to one side. "Tom Branson," he said, extending his hand across the table. Sybil smiled, put her drink down on the table and took his hand in hers.

"Sybil Crawley," she introduced. She carefully arranged her bags at her feet, making sure that they wouldn't fall over and smiled at him.

"Christmas shopping?" Tom asked, taking in the number of bags she had at her feet.

"Oh, you have no idea," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I've been shopping all day for my family."

"Not a fan of Christmas shopping, then?" he asked with a smirk.

"I hate it. Well, that's not strictly true. I love shopping for my friends, but I don't know my family as well as my friends, so it's just so much harder," she muttered to herself. At the look on Tom's face, she said hesitantly, "And I take it you're close with your family?"

"Yeah, very. I've got two sisters and I'm closer to them than I am to anyone else," Tom said with a smile.

"I wish I were closer to my sisters, but we're just so different that it isn't really an option," Sybil said.

"Got any brothers?"

"No. Just two older sisters. But I've got a few really close friends, too," Sybil said, thinking specifically of Gwen.

"Well, that's almost as good."

"Or better," Sybil countered. "I'm so unlike the rest of my family, I'm not really sure how it happened. Maybe I was adopted," she said with a laugh.

"How are you so different?" Tom asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Well, most of them are the sort of people who pay calls and go to dress fittings. Or they would if they were living a hundred years ago. I'm just not like that. I'm a doctor and I'm political and I won't stand around and do nothing. They all help charities and stuff, but I've always wanted a real job; real work." She raised her cup to her lips and felt the warm liquid slide across her tongue before continuing. "I should give a bit of credit to dad – he runs the estate." Tom quirked an eyebrow at the word 'estate', but Sybil didn't realise. "And Edith works for a publisher, but as much as I love mum and Mary, they don't seem to do anything useful." There was a pause. "Sorry, I'm rambling and you don't even know who these people are. I have a habit of doing that. I'll shut up," she said apologetically.

"No, I don't mind," Tom interjected kindly. "It's good to get it all out sometimes." Sybil leant back in her chair, having leant forward gradually as she ranted, and sighed. "If you need to talk, I really don't mind. If I get bored, I can zone out. I'm quite good at faking being interested," Tom said, smiling crookedly at Sybil. She laughed breathily.

"We just have a ball on Christmas eve, that's all."

"A ball?"

"Yeah, my family's been part of the aristocracy for generations, so every year we have the Annual Christmas Ball where tons of other people whose ancestors would be paying calls and going to dress fittings turn up in all their finery and quite often get a bit too drunk to remember the evening. I hate it. I'd rather stay at the hospital and work a double night, but my parents would never forgive me if I did."

"But it's only one night, right?"

"I suppose. But it's one that I dread for 364 days of the year. And because it's my family who organise it, I'm told it's polite to say hello to as many guests as possible, and some of them are alright, I suppose, but most of them are insufferable. They're all family friends or acquaintances. I barely know any of them and a lot of the ones I do, I hate," Sybil explained.

"Irritating men, I take it?" Tom guessed, knowing that she and Sybil were complete strangers and that this wasn't normal on a first meeting and that he was trespassing on potentially dangerous ground.

"Infuriating man rather than irritating men." Sybil sighed again. "There's a guy called Larry, and we've known his family since we were tiny. My parents were quite good friends with his before any of us were born, so we were thrown together as children, which was fine to start with, but as time went by, each summer I found he got on my nerves more and more. Then when we were teens, I'm certain he had feelings for me, but all I could do was push him away because I never wanted to be anywhere near him. Anyway, so he's at this ball every year and as hard as I try, I never manage to avoid him. He always finds a way to conveniently bump into me somehow." Sybil stared, unwavering, at Tom for a few seconds. "It was easier last year to get away from him because I was there with my boyfriend, but that ended shortly after. I can't just turn up on my own or Larry will latch onto me at the beginning of the evening and won't give me a chance to squirm away from him until he's dragged away by his father."

"I could go with you," Tom offered, perhaps a bit too quickly to sound genuine. Sybil's eyes widened in shock at his suggestion. "I know I'm not upper class or anything, but it could save you from this Larry guy. Why not? We could make an evening of it," he suggested hopefully. Sybil locked her jaw momentarily, but then said quietly and slightly unsurely,

"Yeah, go on then. What have I got to lose?"

They continued the day together, talking mostly about family and work. Sybil found that Tom was a journalist and that his two sisters were both younger than he was, but that he also had a three year old niece. He'd grown up in Ireland, but had moved to England after university and had stayed ever since. Sybil told him about Mary and Edith and their less than smooth relationship with each other. She told him more about her job and they spoke about politics, not usually advisable on a first date (not that this was a date), but they were so similar that it seemed so logical to talk about it. They walked together to Sybil's car and exchanged details before parting ways.

The Annual Downton Christmas Ball

After receiving a text from Tom saying he was a few minutes away, Sybil checked her appearance in the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door and took a deep breath before making her way downstairs. She was wearing a beautiful deep blue ball gown, which she loved because of its old fashioned style. Only a couple of families were here. The party hadn't really started, so Sybil hadn't yet ventured downstairs. When she reached the main hall, she very nearly collided with Mary. "Where have you been?" Mary asked accusingly.

"I was upstairs getting ready," Sybil replied.

"Well we need your help with something," Mary said, turning away and expecting Sybil to follow her.

"I need to meet Tom outside," she said quickly.

"What?" Mary asked, whipping back round to look at her little sister. "Tom? The journalist that you met in the café?" Sybil stared back and before she could answer, Edith cut in from behind.

"I'll help, Mary. Go on Sybil," she said, smiling at her younger sister and receiving a scowl from her eldest. She and Mary crossed the hall as Sybil made her way towards the front door. She wasn't standing outside for long before she spotted Tom coming towards her. She beamed at the sight of him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before leading him inside.

"Come on," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him through the hall. Sybil tried to avoid her family, which wasn't made hard as they were all busy with last minute changes and whatnot. It wasn't long before more guests began to arrive and soon the ballroom was alive with buzzing activity. Neither Sybil nor Tom were great at the old fashioned dances, but they had a few slightly more modern songs, but nothing really past the 80s. The result was that Sybil spent most of the evening chatting to Tom and getting too enthralled in conversation to think about anything else.

That is, until Larry turned up at her side. Sybil and Tom had found a relatively quiet corner to have a chat and a laugh. They could ignore the rest of the hall, and they were in their own little world. But not as far as Larry was concerned. He spotted them from across the room, no doubt after looking for Sybil the majority of the evening. Weaving his way through the crowd he approached the two just as Tom was telling Sybil about the Christmas he had as a child where his sister had dropped the turkey on the floor just before the entire family were supposed to descend on them for their Christmas lunch. Sybil covered her open mouth with her hand, but struggled to hold in a smile and a small laugh. "Well, well, well," Larry said, sidling up to the two of them. Sybil rolled her eyes, not trying to hide her disgust. "If it isn't Lady Sybil Crawley."

"Oh, for God's sake, Larry, don't try to pretend you're surprised to see me. You knew I was going to be here."

"I thought you'd be here on your own with a glass of champagne, or if not, then with that nice chap from last year," he said in the most sneaky, condescending way he could.

"Yes, well, that 'nice chap' isn't here and I'm not alone, as you can see," she retorted, fed up of him already. She took Tom's hand and led him away from that particular spot of the room. "Sorry," she whispered apologetically.

"No need to apologise, trust me," Tom said. "He's only said a few words and I think I hate him almost as much as you do." Sybil raised an eyebrow and said,

"I'm glad to see I'm influencing you in the right way!" She let out a little giggle, but paused when she saw Larry heading in their direction again. "We haven't got rid of him yet."

"Do you trust me?" Tom asked quickly.

"What?"

"Do you trust me?" he repeated. Sybil nodded. "I've got an idea. Go to the bathroom, and when you come back, just trust me, okay?" Sybil looked slightly confused, but nodded, turning away from Tom. He casually turned to face the vast expanse of the hall, catching Larry out of the corner of his eye. "Larry, right?" he said, acting as nicely as he could.

"Indeed," he said rather matter-of-factly.

"Tom Branson," he introduced.

"Ah, the Bransons of Cork; I don't recall a Tom…" Larry pondered.

"I'm not a Branson of Cork, actually. That's not how I know Sybil," Tom said, looking as he watched Larry's eyes cloud with confusion.

"So, you know her through the family, then?" Larry asked, desperately searching for a way to regain control of the conversation.

"No, I only met her family tonight, actually," Tom said, standing his ground and behaving as if he were the better man to give an air of confidence about him. In his peripheral vision he saw Sybil turning the corner to return to him. "Excuse me," he said to Larry, moving off to the side to join Sybil half way. As she smiled at him, he took her hand and placed the other on her hip. He whispered, "Trust me," and leant down to place his lips softly on hers. Sybil wasn't sure what to do. Surprise kisses weren't on her list of things to expect of the night, but nevertheless she parted her lips slightly and placed her spare hand softly on his upper arm as he sucked her lower lip between his teeth softly before letting go and parting his lips from hers. Sybil stared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but she was unable to get any words past her lips. "Trust me," he whispered again, and took her hand to guide her back along the edge of the room towards where Larry was still standing, a look of utter shock on his face from the way in which Tom had just engulfed Sybil in a full-on kiss. Sybil felt a surge of confidence at getting one up on him. She squeezed Tom's hand as a thank you as they walked past Larry. When they'd walked far enough past him that Sybil felt she and Tom could talk again she whirled around to him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Thank you!"

"Sorry," he said gently. "You weren't expecting that, were you?"

"Absolutely not," she said as she took a small step backwards to look at him. "But I'm glad you did. Did you see his face? That was worth every moment." She paused for a moment. "But not just for his face," she continued, placing one hand softly on his cheek. His eyes rose to meet hers and he lost himself in the gorgeous shades of blue opposite him. "Trust me," she breathed before rising on her toes and pressing her lips against his. Sybil brought a hand up to cradle the back of Tom's head, the other remaining on his upper arm, with both of Tom's hands resting gently on Sybil's waist. Sybil parted her lips and sucked on Tom's lower lip before pushing her tongue forward. Tom wound his tongue around hers and pulled her closer with one arm wrapping around her back. The two of them lost themselves in the moment before pulling away from each other reluctantly to continue the evening.

Time went by and the evening drew to a close with people slowly beginning to go home one by one. When the time came for Tom to leave, Sybil walked him out of the front door. "Thank you," Sybil said, standing in the cold night air. There was frost settling on the ground and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep the cold out.

"You've got nothing to thank me for," Tom said sweetly.

"Yes I do. That was the best Christmas eve I've ever had," she said with a sincere smile. "I've never been to a ball that was that fun."

"I've never been to a ball at all!" Tom said, making them both laugh.

"Maybe we can meet up again soon?" Sybil ventured.

"Sybil, I shouldn't have kissed you. And I shouldn't have let you kiss me back," he said, looking straight into her eyes. She looked confused and ever so slightly sad. He sighed, hating that he was having to say this out loud. "I should have told you earlier, but in January I'm going away to America for eighteen months for work."

"Oh," Sybil said, reverting her eyes to look at the ground, for fear of crying.

"I'm so sorry, Sybil. We can stay in contact, though, right?" he said, clearly sad himself. She nodded, but couldn't say anything. Prolonging this goodbye wouldn't do either of them any good. He kissed her gently on the cheek and said, "Thank you, for such a wonderful evening. You're a good person, Sybil." She nodded again and said,

"You too," only now looking back at him. She returned his kiss on the cheek and watched him walk away. When she returned to the house she wiped tears from her eyes before making her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Sybil knew it was ridiculous. She had spent part of a day in a coffee shop with him and one evening at a ball, yet she was crying over the very real possibility of never seeing him again. But she couldn't help herself. She'd never felt so strongly about someone so soon after meeting them.

ooo

"Tom," Sybil said, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Sybil, oh my God," Tom replied, completely unsure what to do.

"I had no idea it was you. I should have known really, Gwen told me your name was Tom," Sybil said, unable to stop a smile from beaming across her face.

"She never told me it was you. She told me you were gorgeous and political and clever and her best friend," Tom said, smiling himself.

"Small world," Sybil stated simply.

"Incredibly small," Tom murmured. They stood staring into each other's eyes for longer than would be expected in the first minutes of a blind date. "Look, do you want to go inside? It's cold and I haven't seen you for quite some time. We've got some catching up to do," Tom laughed.

"Sure." Tom put an arm around Sybil's back as he led her into the restaurant. When they were shown to their seats, Tom pulled the chair out for Sybil and then went to his own seat across the table. They ordered drinks and Tom said,

"You look beautiful. Even more so, if possible, than that night at the ball." Sybil looked down into her lap as she felt her cheeks flushing at the memory of the ball.

"Thanks." She looked back up through her eyelashes and said quietly, "How was America?"

"It was brilliant. Everything over there is so different; it was an experience I'll never forget." Sybil nodded slightly sorrowfully.

"I'm half surprised you didn't stay over there. Were the American girls not holding you back and begging you not to leave at the airport?" she joked.

"No, actually," Tom said. "I did go out with a couple of girls, but it never lasted."

"Well, it would be painful, I suppose, going out with someone for a year or so and then breaking up with them just because you were going back to the other side of the Atlantic–"

"No, Sybil," Tom interrupted, reaching across the table to cover her hand with his. "It was because I still remembered you. That night, at the ball, I hated that I was saying goodbye for so long. I wanted to stay. I wanted to kiss you and run away with you there and then." Sybil felt her eyes welling up. "And when I came back to England I wanted to ring you and see you, and pick up from that night, but I couldn't. I've been back for six months. I got back in June. I just couldn't bring myself to ring you."

"Why not?" Sybil asked, a tear falling down her cheek.

"Because what if you didn't remember me? What if you knew we were never going to see each other again and you moved on. Eighteen months is a long time. For all I knew you were dating someone else or maybe even engaged. I just couldn't," Tom said, giving her hand a small squeeze. Sybil smiled and stared into Tom's eyes.

"Tom, I haven't dated anyone since you left. I've thought about it, but I couldn't face it," she said with tears falling down both cheeks. "As ridiculous as it sounds, I fell in love with you the night of the ball. And it's been two years and my life has changed so much, but not the fact that I'm convinced I'm in love with you." Sybil reached across the table with her other hand and took Tom's other hand, unable to think of anything other than her feelings for him. "Tom, I have loved you for the past two years and before this happens, I need to know that you're not going to leave again for another two years because I really couldn't deal with that." She unknowingly held her breath until Tom answered her.

"I promise you, Sybil Crawley, with my whole heart, that I will stay with you for as long as you want. I'll be by your side as long as you need me and I won't leave you again," he said, bringing her hands together and covering them in his. He was fighting back tears himself and took the time to look deeply into Sybil's eyes.

They spent the whole evening talking, barely having a moment's silence with so much to talk to one another about. When they left the restaurant, they stood on the pavement, facing one another, holding hands between them and staring at each other. "I've missed you," Tom said in a near whisper.

"I've loved you," Sybil said.

"I didn't know if you'd wait for me."

"I'd wait forever," she said. She took her hands away from Tom's and cradled his head in one and held his face in the other as she rose on her toes to kiss him. His lips were damp and warm and Sybil could feel the connection the two of them had as Tom moved one hand to her back and the other to her waist. She didn't feel the cold whipping at her arms and face while she was in his arms. She could have stayed in his hold for an entire lifetime and not got fed up with it. Finding Tom again was a dream come true and she knew that she never wanted to wake up from it.