He's leaning against the bench, arms folded, when she comes into the garage. His slanting look brings his last words to her mind, and they keep playing like a broken record she can't switch off.

"You're too scared to admit it, but you're in love with me..."

She finds herself resorting to small talk about Bates' return to distract herself, before stepping forward to say what she has come to say.

"Branson, there's something you ought to know. I've told Mary."

His eyes drop. A firm nod, a rueful smile. "I see. Well, that's me finished then. Without a reference."

She can't bear him to think she has betrayed him, after her promise in York that she wouldn't.

"No, she's not like that. You don't know her. She wouldn't give us away."

"But she won't encourage us?" He stands up, putting his hands in his pockets in a characteristic gesture.

"No." He smiles, his gaze brushing against hers. There's an unexpected spark dancing at the back of his eyes. "Why are you smiling? I thought you'd be angry."

"Because that's the first time you've ever spoken about 'us'."

A blush sweeps up her face as she realises he's right. He's the one to break the resulting silence.

"If you didn't care, you would've told them months ago."

He's frightfully full of himself! "Oh, I see. Because I don't want you to lose your job, it must mean I'm madly in love with you!"

"Well, doesn't it?"

She tries to make him see, to understand. "You say I'm a free spirit, and I hope I am. But you're asking me to give up my whole world and everyone in it."

"And that's too high a price to pay?"

"It is a high price. I love my parents, you don't know them. And I love my sisters and my friends."

Her voice rises, cracking a little. When he speaks again, his tone is more conciliatory.

"I'm not asking you to give them up forever. And when they come around, I will welcome them with open arms."

"And what about your people? Would they accept me? And what about my work?"

His brow furrows at the word and he gestures angrily towards the door. "What work? Bringing hot drinks to a lot of randy officers? This isn't a hospital, it's a holiday home."

Almost as soon as he speaks, she can see he regrets his harsh words. "I'm sorry, milady. To speak slightingly of your work. I've no right to do that."

"No, you haven't."

"It's just that when I look at you..."

Their gazes meet and lock. She can't remember how to breathe.

"Not being sure if you're mine..."

She steps towards him. Just one step, she can't help it. Drawn in by the force she can feel swirling between them, a force she's helpless to resist.

"I feel I may explode..."

"Branson..."

"Because I am yours, milady. Utterly, completely, forever. I love you, I love you so much..."

"Tom..."

His eyes widen. I've never said his name before...

"Yes ... milady?"

Unable to ask him directly for what she wants, she lifts her hand and puts a finger to his lips.

The speed of his response surprises her. He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet and pressing her up against the car. The breath is driven from her body as his mouth crashes onto hers, desperate, hungry.

She's never been kissed before and the first thing she notices is how hard his body, his man's body, feels against the softness of hers. The smell of him - motor oil, the brilliantine he uses to smooth down his hair, a trace of sweat - fills her nostrils. An intoxicating warmth rushes through her from low down in her belly as she closes her eyes and pulls him down to her.

There's a deep groan in his chest as if he were drowning and she were the air he needed to stay alive. One of his hands slides up her spine to cup the back of her head, his fingers buried in her hair, while the other arm stays tight around her waist, holding her flush against him, not even a chink of light between them. It's her turn to moan as his tongue pushes between her lips, his mouth fierce on hers in a way she's never imagined.

The unfamiliar delight of it all sends her head spinning. Without the pressure of him holding her against the car, she knows she will fall. She wants... she doesn't even know what she wants.

Closer, I need to get closer...

When he breaks their kiss, she doesn't want him to stop, letting out a sigh of longing as he leans his forehead against hers. When he says her name, his voice rough and raw, it's like a caress.

"Sybil..."

Tremors thrill through her, to her very fingertips, at the sound. They step apart a little and he moves from shadow to light, his arms still around her.

How could she not have seen before how beautiful he is? The beam from the overhead lamp strikes the planes of his face, the strong muscles of his shoulders and arms, and his eyes - oh God, his eyes - dark blue flame, burning deeply into hers, burning through to her soul.

"It comes down to whether or not you love me. That's all. That's it. The rest is ... detail." It's barely a whisper as his thumb runs gently along her lower lip, his hand stroking her face, and she longs to lean into his touch.

A veil has been lifted between them at last, a veil he has hung between them for so long to try and protect them both. His need for her, the need of a man for a woman, is naked on his face now.

With a shock, she realises he must see the same need in her. And that can't happen.

I promised Mary I wouldn't... Oh God, but I want to...

She pulls away from him abruptly, hands flying to her flushed cheeks, a gasp breaking from her lips.

"I'm sorry, I can't, I can't. Please, don't ask me..."

"Sybil... milady, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Stepping back, his hands lift in a gesture of surrender. "I should never have kissed you like that. Please, wait, don't go, I promise..."

But it's too late.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she's already running, from him, from herself. His last words to her are lost in the darkness that closes in around her heart, darker than the moonless night sky over her head.

The end...?

A/N -

This season 2 AU fic was born from a rom-com prompt but it took on an angsty life of its own in my imagination, and I just had to write it. (I do have a happier version of the prompt in mind to write as well!) Its title comes from the famous last lines of the John Keats poem "Ode on a Grecian Urn": "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all/Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." These words really made me think of Tom's "The rest is detail" line. :)

Special thanks to repmet for kindly sharing the missing lines from the season 2 script book with us, some of which I have included in this fic. I may come back to it - I'm not sure yet what happens after this moment.