Author's note -
A one-shot contribution to the celebration of Sybil and Tom's wedding anniversary on Tumblr - now updated to a two-shot! This is my longest one off story/chapter so far - would love to know what you think.
"Swing low, sweet charrrr-iiiooot…" – the song echoed over Sybil's head as she pulled open the door of the Light Brigade, her favourite pub on Oxford Street. She was surprised by how crowded the bar was – what was going on in here tonight? She soon got her answer as she headed further inside – the place was awash with men and women in colourful jerseys, and the big screens were all showing what looked, to her inexpert eyes, like a rugby match. Pushing her way through the crowd – "excuse me, sorry, can I just get past you…" – she spotted Gwen's red head, and made her way thankfully towards her. Gwen was in the middle of a rowdy group clad in green and gold, and Gwen herself was crammed in next to the tall, broad Aussie guy she had been seeing for the last couple of months.
"Hi Gwen – got some room for me there?" "Sybil – great you could make it – move up Kafe and Canno, can't you! Make some room for my friend." The boys at the table looked at Sybil and eyed her appreciatively, but they were perfect gentleman as they made some room for her at the end of the table near Gwen and her boyfriend Steve, known to everyone (even Gwen) as Kearnsy. "What's this all about, then?" Kearnsy looked amazed – "Syb, you mean you don't know? This is only the biggest night in Australian sport this year – the last Lions test!" None the wiser, Sybil turned to Gwen with a confused look on her face, and Gwen explained – "The British and Irish Lions are out here playing Australia in rugby union – they've both won a match so far, and this is the decider."
"Ah, OK, so that's why there are so many people from our part of the world in here tonight," Sybil said, and looked around. She could see the various tribes that made up the Lions and she could pick them all out by their colours and songs – the Scots in dark blue, their glottal accents getting thicker the more they drank as they launched into "Flower of Scotland", the Welsh in red, starting up a chorus of "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau" in perfect harmony, and the English in white, with a raucous rendition of the anthemic song Sybil had heard when she arrived.
There was a real buzz in the room as she made her way to the bar – "my shout!", she called over her shoulder – and as she tried in vain to catch the eye of the bartender she realised she had forgotten one group – it was the British and Irish Lions, so where were the Irish? As she picked up a couple of jugs of beer, she spotted a group of green jerseys over in the corner. On the way back to her table, she passed them and heard one voice complain – "Well of course we don't have God in the side tonight, so that has to make a difference, sure?"
Sybil followed the voice to a face, and saw that it belonged to a fair haired man. She couldn't help noticing he was really good looking, with the kind of muscular build that always registered with her, and found herself standing and staring at him for longer than she would have expected, mesmerised by his hands as he gesticulated expressively to his friends. Somehow, during a lull in the conversation, the man noticed she was looking at him and met her eyes. Sybil flushed bright red – how embarrassing to get caught! – and broke his gaze to head back to her table. As she sat down, she couldn't help looking back, and she saw the handsome Irish guy was still staring at her… this time, it was his turn to cough and look away once he realised she had caught him out.
Over the next half an hour, it became a bit of a silent game for them – while both Sybil and the Irishman were engaged in animated discussions at their own tables as the game progressed, both of them were aware of a current of electricity stretching across the crowded pub between them, which grew stronger each time one of them stole a glance and was intercepted by the other. At half time, both of them casually got up from their seats to head to the bar. They stood pretending not to notice each other, until…
"I have to ask – who is God, and why isn't he playing tonight?" The man turned towards Sybil, laughing, and their eyes met properly for the first time. "This girl is gorgeous!" was the first thought that crossed his mind, taking in the long dark hair hanging in a tousled braid over her shoulder, her beautiful figure and her sexy smile. He assumed a mock lecturer air, and began to explain – "Brian O'Driscoll, Ireland's legendary captain – this would have been his last Lions game but he was injured and couldn't play. We sometimes call him God because of his initials and because, well, he is, in Ireland anyway. The joke is that every time he gets the ball, the opposition shouts, 'oh my God!'" Sybil nodded – "Ah OK, thanks for that. I don't really follow rugby so I don't know any of the players or understand the rules all that well, although the guys at my table have been explaining things to me."
This was his cue to give Sybil a quick rundown of 'the game they play in heaven' – "Well, there's 15 players a side, each attacking the other's line aiming to score a try. The backs usually do the running and the forwards do most of the defending, although everyone does both sometimes." Sybil got a bit lost when Tom tried to explain such arcane terms as the breakdown, the lineout and the scrum, but she got the gist… "I think I get it, although I don't think I will ever understand the offside rule. What does 'through the gate' mean when it's at home?" Seeing this was clearly a rhetorical question, the man took that as his opportunity to introduce himself properly –
"Anyway, I'm Tom – Tom Branson. Me and a few of the lads from home came out to Australia to follow the Lions tour – that's them, over there," waving to a group of guys who were busy embarrassing him by giving him the thumbs up and winking. "I'm Sybil Crawley – nice to meet you." "So, Sybil – what brings you to Sydney?" The conversation started to flow between them as Sybil explained how she had scored a year's internship at nearby St Vincent's Hospital as part of her medical training. "See that redhead over there – that's my friend from home, Gwen. She and I share a flat in Bondi although since she met her boyfriend she is hardly ever home… " Sybil found herself blushing as she looked into Tom's eyes, noticing how blue they were while also wondering why she had mentioned that… what did he care about her living arrangements?
The teams started to reappear on screen – half time was over. "Want to have a drink?" Tom offered, and Sybil nodded as she realised that there was nothing she would rather do at that moment than keep talking to this guy whom she was finding more attractive by the minute. The second half got underway and the game headed into a nail biting finish, the pub erupting around them as the competing supporters shouted for dominance. Sybil and Tom meanwhile were in a little bubble of their own creation, talking nonstop but also communicating at a deeper level, at the level of their cells, as the connection between them grew ever stronger and they moved in closer to one another.
The final whistle blew just as Israel Folau, the Australian debutant, crossed for his third try of the night, and Berrick Barnes stepped up to convert it and win the game for the Wallabies. The green and gold clad members of the crowd burst into cheers, celebrating their victory, while the Lions fans headed in a bloc to the bar to drown their sorrows. Tom and Sybil looked around for the first time in nearly an hour, and Sybil took a chance, knowing that this was Tom's last night in Sydney…
"So, have you been down to Bondi yet? It would be a shame to come all this way and not see it…" He smiled "I'd love to," and as he got up he held out his hand to Sybil. She took it, and skin came into contact with skin for the first time, intensifying that spark that had been between them from the moment their eyes met that night. She felt his warm, strong fingers close over her own, his thumb running across her knuckles in a way that sent shivers down her spine.
They got into a taxi without speaking, and Sybil looked out the window, almost afraid of what she was feeling, still holding onto Tom's hand. He touched her chin, turning her face to his as he leaned in closer and looked deeply into her eyes. An unspoken question hovered between them as he paused just short of her lips, which she answered by putting one hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
Sensations started to flood through Sybil's body and she closed her eyes, wanting to sink into the moment as fully as she could as she tightened her arms around him. Tom's lips were warm and firm - she could hear the blood rushing in her ears as felt his tongue push through her lips and trace along her own. She felt his arm slide around her waist, pulling her into his body, while his other hand gently brushed over her cheek and jawline, smoothing a wayward curl back from her face.
In no time at all, the taxi driver was pulling up on Campbell Parade across from Bondi Beach, and Sybil and Tom got out, heading over the footbridge onto the sand, deserted on this winter evening. He took her hand as they looked out at the Pacific Ocean, the lights of the promenade behind them picking them out in silhouette against the indigo water rolling in from the horizon – "You live here? What a fantastic place to be able to come home to every night." They moved into another kiss, and he bent her back slightly in his arms this time to deepen it even more. She ran her fingers through his hair – dizzy with excitement, she felt as if she might fall if he weren't holding her up.
Sybil hadn't felt this kind of chemistry with a guy since she didn't know when, and from the way Tom's hand was sliding up her back under her shirt, and from the "hard evidence" (as she and Gwen put it) against her leg, it was clear he was as into her as she was into him. When they eventually pulled apart, breathless – "Um, do you live far from here? Maybe you could show me your place and we could have a coffee or something?" – the universally recognisable euphemism made his intentions crystal clear.
Sybil didn't hesitate. While usually a one night stand would not be her thing, there was something about this guy that was driving her wild and, after all, he was leaving tomorrow, so why not! She knew she would kick herself if she didn't, and she always believed you regret the things you didn't do far more than the things you did. "My flat's just over the road ..." taking his hand, they crossed to a small, Art Deco block in red brick facing the beach.
She led him upstairs and stopped on the second floor, fumbling for her keys as she felt his hot breath on her neck and his arms sliding around her waist. The door lock at last came free and they crashed through the door together, all pretence of making coffee forgotten as they fell to the floor, kicking off their shoes. Tom leaned up over Sybil with an expression on his face that was somehow both the most beautiful and the hottest thing Sybil had ever seen, and she couldn't wait any longer. She sat up and pulled off her shirt and bra, pulling Tom's hand onto her bare skin as she whispered to him – "Tom, oh God, touch me...".
Tom responded immediately – his mouth came down onto hers in a kiss so intense Sybil felt as if her whole body was being touched by him at once, just through his lips on hers. As his tongue came into her mouth, his hand slid down her body, caressing her breasts, and Sybil felt her nipples rise up under his fingers as if he had touched her with an ice cube. Tom started to unzip her skirt, so to help him she raised her hips up from the floor as he lifted it off.
Breaking their kiss, Sybil pushed him back from her for a moment. She felt Tom's eyes travel down her body, appreciating every inch of her, and she found herself feeling sexy and confident under his gaze. She slowly slid her underwear off, biting her lip as she looked up at him and ran her hands back up her thighs, stopping between her legs for a moment, before slowly moving up her stomach and along her ribcage, stroking her own breasts as she met his eyes boldly.
Tom could barely believe what he was seeing – this girl, so sensual, so gorgeous, relishing his attention as she revealed herself to him fully. His eyes followed her hands as she caressed her own body in a way that he longed to do. He felt Sybil push against his shoulders, rolling him onto his back and climbing on top of him, straddling him. He lifted his head as she pulled his t-shirt off and ran her hand slowly down his chest, caressing his taut abs. Her beautiful body naked above him in the moonlight drove him crazy and he could feel his cock straining for release as he reached into his pocket.
Sybil saw what he was doing and took control. The simple act of her unbuttoning his jeans to free his cock, then tearing the packet open between her teeth and rolling the condom onto him was amazingly arousing. He heard her sigh as she rose up and fitted herself onto him perfectly, as if they had been made for each other, and he let out a growl - "Christ, Sybil, you are so hot!"
He could feel how warm and wet she was already as she started to move, slowly at first, finding her rhythm with him as she ground her hips into his. He watched her breasts rise and fall as she arched her back, her long hair falling loose from its braid. He moved his hand down between them to find her core and began to tease her clit with his fingers, hearing Sybil gasp. Moving faster now, she was heading inexorably to orgasm, which when it came was so intense she couldn't help shouting – "Ahhhhhh!" He felt her squeezing him from the inside and lost control completely, closing his eyes as he felt his own orgasm rip through him.
She collapsed on top of him and blindly sought his lips - still joined, they kissed deeply as their heart rates began returning to normal. "You are so beautiful, I want to fuck you so hard..." Tom started whispering in Sybil's ear about all the things he wanted to do with her and, although she felt a blush rising up her face, she knew she wanted to do all those things too. The night felt to her like a speeded up version of whatever might have happened between them if they had met in ordinary circumstances, and she knew she wanted to hold nothing back from him, nothing at all...
Eventually, they made it into Sybil's bed and came together again and again as the night turned into morning. In between their bouts of lovemaking, they lay in each others' arms – they were both tired but they just could not stop touching, kissing, caressing, whispering to one other. And at one point around 3am, Sybil murmured – "Tom... mmmm, I have never come so many times in one night before." "Sybil, the night is not over yet...". Moving behind her in the bed (a position she loved because of the access it gave his hands to her whole body) he gently sucked the pulse point on her neck as he slid his cock inside her again, loving the way she felt from this angle, and reached around to caress her clit as he started to thrust...
The morning sun broke through the curtains, waking them from the doze they had fallen into just before dawn. Tom woke up first and looked at Sybil, curled up in his arms, her hair spilling over her face, and a smile curled his lips upwards as he remembered every detail of the night before. Although he had to leave for Dublin that day, he was determined to make the most of the remaining time he had with this girl.
He began to move down her body again, kissing and caressing her. He felt her start to stir as his mouth lingered on her breasts. "Mmmmm..." Sybil moaned – somehow, after the night they had spent together, there was a kind of beautiful familiarity in the feeling of his lips on her skin, while at the same time her craving for more of his touch was insatiable. Taking his time, Tom placed kisses down her side and lingered on her hipbone. He headed to her core, sliding his hand up her inner thigh as he found her swollen, throbbing clit and took it gently into his mouth.
This time, he was in control, and they both knew it – Sybil trusted him so completely already, she happily closed her eyes, feeling like a Stradivarius violin in the hands of a virtuoso. His tongue started to tease her again in a way he already knew she adored, and one hand slipped underneath her to grasp her pert arse, lifting her slightly off the bed. Two fingers of his other hand were already inside her, finding that spot which before last night Sybil hadn't even realised she had but which she was now longing for him to touch – "Oh God, Tom, yes, yes, just there!" – as she reached down to tangle her fingers in his hair.
Tom's tongue and fingers worked together to bring Sybil higher and higher, travelling along the arc of pleasure that they had discovered together the night before. His pace increased as he brought her to her peak, holding her there just a moment more to make her orgasm even more powerful – he knew her limits now and he wanted to push her right up against them this time. At last he released her and the overwhelming sensations he had learned to evoke in her rushed over her body as if a dam had been released – no way to stop it, totally out of control. At that moment, Sybil's human reason and logic scarcely existed – she was totally at the mercy of her physical self, all raw animal instinct as she screamed his name so loudly the echoes travelled down the stairwell of the building, surprising a jogger returning from his early run.
Tom lifted his head and pulled himself up Sybil's body again, cradling her in his arms. He started to stroke her skin as her breathing slowed, whispering in her ear how beautiful and sexy she was, how she drove him crazy, how amazing it felt to be inside her, how even after the night they had just had he could never get enough of her. They finally made it out of bed after they had made love once more. After sharing a shower in her tiny cubicle that took more than forty five minutes (every time one of them tried to get out, the other one pulled them back), they got dressed and headed down to the beach.
As they crossed over to the shining sands, Tom picked Sybil up and ran with her down to the waterline, splashing into the waves and turning them around and around – somehow, that felt like the only way to express his exhilaration. Sybil hung onto his neck, her hair flying wildly around them as the world spun by. Finally, he put her down and, heedless of their wet feet, they clung to each other in the swirling water, kissing and caressing. She could have stayed there forever in his arms, and she knew he felt the same way.
The time came too soon for Tom to have to look for a taxi to the airport. Sybil flagged one down for him, getting in with him and pulling him over into her arms as the taxi sped up Bondi Road towards the city. She could feel tears forming in her eyes and she did not even try to stop them as she looked at him – the stricken expression on his face showed her he was not far away from tears himself. There were no words at that moment which either of them could say. The night they had just spent together had acted as a short cut to intimacy and they both knew how the other was feeling without needing to speak. They spent the journey wrapped tightly in each others' arms, heedless of the taxi driver's intrusive glances, with their lips locked together and their eyes closed, tears still slipping down Sybil's cheeks as Tom stroked her tangled hair.
They arrived at the airport sooner than they expected. As Tom got out of the cab he spotted his mates just heading inside, lugging their backpacks, and with relief he saw they had brought his too. He turned back to Sybil, his eyes tracing over every curve of her beautiful face, imprinting each tiny detail in his memory. He put his hand to her cheek, stroking it gently as he tried to tell her what was in his heart. "Sybil – we hardly know each other – last night was unbelievable – never in my life..." He gulped and tried again. "You are perfect for me, I already know that. Is there some way, somehow, we can stay in touch? I know you are here for a few months yet but the thought of not seeing you again..."
Sybil put her finger to his lips, nodding as she felt her throat swelling up. She felt the same way – even after such a short time, she wanted so much to find a way to make this work. She pulled her wallet out of her jacket and gave him a scrap of paper where she scribbled her email address – "Write to me, Tom, write to me and let's see where this goes. My internship is finished in a few months and I will be home in London again..." There was nothing more to be said as she clung to him at the Departures gate. His mates ostentatiously tapped their watches and made cheeky remarks but Tom ignored them as he kissed Sybil deeply one last time. A final glance, and then he was gone.
The tears flowed freely down her face again as she made her way back to the taxi rank, heading home to Bondi with a breaking heart. By the time she got back to her flat, she already had an email from him, sent from his phone as he waited to board. Reading it, the blood rushed to her face – "Oh my God, what am I going to do?" Crazy as it sounded, she knew she was already most of the way to being in love with him and it would not take much for her to be lost for good.
Over the next few months, they settled into a pattern of sending long daily emails to each other. In them, they shared as much as they could about their lives, their hopes, their dreams, and writing and reading those emails became an essential part of their daily routines. They tried to Skype once a week or so, although with Sybil's crazy work schedule on her A&E rotation at the hospital it wasn't easy to find a timeslot that worked for both of them. As the end of Sybil's internship approached and she got ready to go home, her excitement and nervousness started to build... what if things weren't the same between them when they met again?
The time came to head back to London, and as she hugged Gwen goodbye at the airport she was filled with an equal mix of exhilaration and anxiety. When she boarded the plane for the 24 hour flight home, she longed for the time to pass ... once, she found her feet unconsciously pushing against the metal bar in front of her, willing the mighty jet engines to go even faster. She couldn't help laughing at herself as she turned on the new Star Trek movie, thinking that Chris Pine's eyes weren't half as blue as Tom's...
At last, the pilot's announcement came over the speakers that they were commencing their descent into Heathrow. Sybil shook herself awake from the few hours of sleep she had finally managed to get. She went to the bathroom to run a comb through her hair, clean her teeth and put on some lipstick - she wasn't sure but she hoped Tom would have come over from Dublin to meet her and she wanted to look pretty for him. The plane pulled up at the airbridge and Sybil was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet – why wasn't anyone moving! – until she was finally able to start walking down the aisle and out the door of the plane. Following the endless corridors, she let her mind wander to what she might find when she got through customs.
Feeling a stab of empathy for the non-EU people joining a queue that looked to be at least a couple of hours' worth of waiting, she raced past the UK passport holder desk and down to the luggage carousel. Amazingly, her small suitcase didn't take long to come through – she had decided to send most of her stuff home via airfreight so she could travel light – and as she picked it up, she felt a wave of adrenaline surge through her body. Oh God, what if he was there? What if he wasn't there? She almost didn't know which she would prefer, she was so nervous.
Making her way through the green channel, she was temporarily blinded by a beam of sunshine as she stepped into the arrivals hall. Shading her eyes – where was he? – she felt arms grabbing her from behind. As she spun around, she saw again the face of the man she now knew for sure that she loved, not just because of the incredible night they had spent together in Sydney, but also because of everything they had shared since then. She really felt as if she knew him now, and that he knew her too, by heart. "Tom, you came!" He smiled at her – "What did you expect, mo ghile?" and her heart soared at his words as she bit her lip cheekily, whispering – "I'm touched ... now take me home because I want to be touched some more..."
As they moved into a passionate kiss, Sybil's arms went around Tom's neck as he pulled her as close as he could against his body. He broke the kiss to whisper something in her ear, and what he said to her left a tear trembling on her lashes – "Me too, Tom, oh so very much...". Now, she knew – as long as she was with him, she'd be home, wherever she was. She just had to get him somewhere more private and show him how much she had missed him...
A/N - Something on the songs:
- "Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau" = "Land of my Fathers", the glorious Welsh national anthem. My father could sing it perfectly when he was young (he grew up there), which makes me love it even more. "Swing low, sweet chariot" is the unofficial anthem of English rugby, and "Flower of Scotland" plays the same role for those north of the border.
Also - "mo ghile" = my darling in Irish Gaelic, per Google translate.
This was originally written as a one-shot - now with an epilogue as chapter 2. An in-joke here which no-one but an Australian rugby fan will get – Gwen's boyfriend and his mates get their names from a few of the Foxtel rugby commentators, all ex-Wallabies themselves. It's funny how many Aussie men have nicknames like these (even Mr CM has one), so I couldn't resist that little touch of home! This chapter was written before the tour really began - see my note to the epilogue for an update on the result.