Sybil's gotten used to the grueling 10 hour shifts after a year of nursing. She's gotten used to being in her feet at all hours. She doesn't even weep in private anymore for the broken and dying tommies that seem to trickle into the hospital on a daily basis.

Tom. Branson's first name. She hasn't forgotten their talk the other day when she found out he was enlisted. A conscienscious objector he calls himself. A showboat more like. Risking prison just to make a flamboyant statement.

"Doesn't he understand how much I worry? I don't want to lose any more people I... know."

She'll think more about it later. She came down to the village clinic to pick up a refill of prescription painkillers. Just a few more minutes and her shift will end and she can look forward to the "weekend" as cousin Matthew calls it.

She came out of the dispensary with a paper bag full of the drugs when she passed by Dr. Williamsom's examination room, its door slightly ajar. She couldn't help peeking at the next unfortunate soul about to be fed to the meat grinder.

"Name?"

"Tom Branson."

Branson? Oh, no.

"Age?"

"Twenty-Six years old."

"Occupation?"

"Chauffeur."

Branson, I know you can be more than that. You promised.

"Any history of medical problems?"

"None that I know of, doctor."

"All right. Now open up that shirt and let's have a listen at that ticker."

Open up his what, now?

Branson began undoing the buttons of his undershirt.

It's bad enough I've seen him in his underthings, but I can't look away.

His bare chest was hairier that she thought. Yes, she's thought about him in that state. She's only human. She's weak. So weak...

He looks more luxurious than Granny's minks.

It was not just his chest hair she admired. His broad chest. His ample shoulders. His strong arms. She admires his upper body. Imagine his lower half! She braced herself on the door and stared unblinking at him. She wanted to burn his image into her memory.

Dr. Williamson placed a stethoscope over Branson's heart.

Oh, to be a stethoscope.

Dr. Williamson took off the stethoscope and went to his desk to fill out some papers.

Take your time, doctor.

Sybil's breath grew louder and her heart beat faster.

"Nurse?"

Sybil was startled! She turned to the village woman.

"Can you tell me where the intensive care rooms are?

"Third... third floor. Next to the pharmacological... ward."

The woman walked off and Sybil turned her eye back to Branson.

Who seems to have heard her conversation and was looking if anyone was outside!

She bolted! She kept her head down so no one will see how flushed she is.

She got back to Downton with only 6 minutes left on her shift. Just in time.

"There you are, Nurse Crawley!" It was Nurse Espenson. "Dr. Clarkson has been asking where you have been! Give me the painkiller refills."

"I must have forgotten them. I'm sorry. I'll go back."

"You haven't forgotten them. They're right there in your hand."

Indeed, Sybil was still carrying that paper bag. She handed them off and walked away without a word.

She saw Ethel flirting with that Maj. Bryant again.

"There's only a few minutes until my shift ends. Can you draw me a bath, please?"

Ethel seemed disappointed but said "Right away, milady." Sybil was just about to walk up the stairs to her room when Ethel asked "Warm or cold?"

"Warm." Sybil replied "Real warm".


Sybil sat in that tub for more than 15 minutes. She wanted to cleanse every bit of herself. She did not even tie up her hair.

I have to warn Ethel about Maj. Bryant. He is a cad. But after how I acted earlier, am I any different from him?

"No, you are most certainly not."

She turned to the entrance and saw him.

Branson. His shirt still open. A smirk on his face.

"Why are you here?"

"To return the favor."

"Am I seeing things?"

"Yes. Ethel boiled the water too hot again. Do you wish me to leave?"

"No."

He put his hands in his pockets and approached her. It reminded her of that safari her family went to when she was 12.

The moves of the jungle cat mesmerizes its prey.

If this was real, Sybil would be helpless to resist.

She's lusted after his body, its true. But its not just that. Branson represents a new beginning for Sybil. A new life outside Downton. A life of hardship, yes, but also a life of Freedom, Purpose.

Love.

Branson''s offered himself to her so many times and she just wants to give in. To indulge.

The chance is before her. All she needs do is take it. Take and it will all be hers. HE will all be hers.

She's wanted to say "yes' for so long. Her answer has always been "yes". She does not want to spoil it. This is the most important decision of her life and she wants everything to be perfect.

"When the war is over. When all is settled. When I have said my goodbyes. Yes", she has said to herself.

Branson-who-is-not-there squatted on Sybil's left side.

"What do you want?"

"What do you want?"

"The same things as you."

"I am glad."

Branson-who-is-not-there dipped his hand into the water.

Its not really his hands Sybil is feeling but she won't let it spoil the fun.

And then...