May 1913

It was a bittersweet birthday for Tom. He was leaving in a few days for England and who knew when he'd be back with his family. Hopefully the job as chauffeur at Downton Abbey in Yorkshire would be a good one. It offered him more money than he could make in Ireland as well as his own cottage. He looked forward to that since he had never even had a bedroom of his own and now he'd have a cottage all to himself. He'd be able to read in peace far late into the night if he wanted to without one of his brothers complaining about the light.

All of his family had shown up at his mother's house much to Tom's surprise. It had turned into a farewell to Tom party as much as a birthday one. There was much laughter, music, dancing and food. Ah his mother's cooking. How he would miss that. She must have known because she had made his favorite dishes.

But it was at moments like this that he did worry a bit about the new direction his life was taking. He knew he'd miss his family, his home, his friends, his Ireland. It didn't seem fair that there was so little opportunity for a lower middle class lad like himself in Ireland. He didn't want to end up in a dead end factory job where one's life slowly ebbed away in an everlasting grind of poverty. Even going to England didn't offer much better opportunity for he'd still be a servant although one with a skill. He'd save as much money as he could. He'd read and write as much as he could. He would come back and he'd be more than a chauffeur.

May 1914

At the urging of Mr. Carson, Tom remained in his cottage. It was doubtful that anyone from the family would need the motor car today after the adventures of Sybil last night. Last night. Tom kept thinking about last night. Sybil had told him she had a charity meeting. She had lied to him. Casually and easily she had lied to him. And that lie might yet cost him his job.

His first thoughts had only been about her safety. Seeing her knocked unconscious and then the blood on her forehead, all he could think about was her well being. She had to be alright. She had to be. Not because of his job, he wasn't even thinking of that at that moment. No it was because he had come to value her as a friend.

He had waited outside the grand doors of Downton. How long had he waited he wasn't sure. It had seemed liked hours until Lady Mary had finally come out to tell him Sybil would be alright. Tom was so relieved to hear that news that he barely registered the rest of what Lady Mary was saying. It wasn't until he was back at the garage that he realized the depth of Sybil's actions and the effect they might have on his job.

The knocking at his cottage door awoke him from his thoughts of last night. With trepidation, fearing that his job had been lost, he braced himself for whatever decision had been made.

But it wasn't Mr. Carson telling him he had been sacked, it was one of the young hall boys. With a nod, the young lad quietly handed Tom two letters and a small package.

From the writing on the wrapping, Tom knew the package was from his mother. Wanting to savor whatever it was she had sent him, he decided to open the letters first.

The letters were from his cousin and his older sister each wishing him a happy birthday in addition to all the news from home. Happy Birthday. Tom had been so wrapped up in the events surrounding Sybil and the counting of the votes that he had forgotten today was his birthday.

The package contained three short notes, one from his mother and each of his sisters that still lived at home. But it was the gifts that brought tears to Tom's eyes. Maura had embroidered a linen handkerchief with two green shamrocks. Katie had made a narrow linen bookmark with colorful embroidery running up the side. His mother's gift was a small book of Irish poems.

Alone in his cottage, Tom stared at his presents. Tears stung his eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he did lose his job. He would return to Ireland and his family both of which he missed very much.

But he knew if he went to Ireland, a piece of his heart would remain at Downton. It would be that part that had been captured by a certain young lady. And he knew he would miss her for the rest of his days.

May 1915

As she so often did these days, Sybil found herself going to the garage or rather sneaking off to the garage. She hated that she had to make excuses to see Branson or rather Tom as she thought of him now. Why couldn't she just openly pop into the garage to converse with the chauffeur?

Why was society, and hence her family, so against a friendship between a member of the household and those that served them? Papa was friends with Mr. Bates just as Mary was with Anna. But then, Sybil thought, was it really a friendship between Papa and Mr. Bates or Mary and Anna. Maybe friendship was too strong a word to define those relationships. They were friendly but not friends.

Not friends like she and Tom were. They could talk for hours on a variety of subjects. First it had been women's rights, the vote, Ireland but now it was often the war. Papa didn't think the women of the household needed to know what was going on regarding the war so conversation was always steered in a different direction, or even ignored, if Sybil brought the topic up.

It was through Tom that Sybil knew what was happening in the world. He would save the newspapers for her to read while he worked on the motor cars or that she would sneak into her bedroom to read. She wasn't sure which she preferred reading the papers in the garage or in her room. If in the garage she could immediately ask Tom about what she had read or discuss a point with him.

But alone in her room, she had more time to thoroughly digest what she was reading and more time to form her own opinions which she hoped to share with Tom as soon as possible. She valued his viewpoint and opinions even though they didn't always agree. That was one of the things that she liked most about Tom, he would always listen to her and if he disagreed he would say why but he never called her foolish or demeaned her in any way. He was the first person she had ever met who treated her as though her thoughts and opinions mattered.

When Sybil took her usual seat in the garage, she was surprised to see some letters and a package sitting on the work bench unopened. She did note that all had been mailed from Ireland.

"I'm surprised you haven't opened your mail" Sybil commented as she looked at Tom rising from under one of the motor cars where he had been fixing something.

Tom glanced at the mail on the work bench and then at Sybil. As always his first thought when he looked at Sybil was how beautiful she was. Perched on the chair, dressed in a deep purple dress with a wide white collar that probably cost more than he made in a year, the sunlight streaming in from the window hitting her dark hair just so, she looked so beautiful. How he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her tight and kiss those lips.

"Tom" Sybil looked at him with a rather puzzled expression on her face. "Tom" she called again.

"I'm sorry I was just thinking about something" he finally remarked.

"If you are too busy I could just get the paper and come back later."

"No" he said rather too hurriedly. "No . . . it's fine now" and smiled at her with a smile he wish would flutter her heart the way her smiles did his.

It had been almost a year since he had held her hand at the garden party. Although she had taken to coming to the garage almost every day there had been no more physical contact between them.

"I can't believe you haven't opened your mail especially your package." Sybil spoke once again. "You don't often get packages from Ireland do you?"

Without thinking Tom replied, "Usually only for Christmas and my birthday."

"Oh" Sybil's eyes suddenly went wide as she realized what he had said. "Today is your birthday?"

Tom grinned at her. "Aye it is."

"I'm sorry I didn't know." Sybil stammered. How could she consider him such as close friend but not know such details as when was his birthday. Looking at the small package Sybil was hit by the thought of how different their lives really were. Her birthdays, as well as that of her sisters, had always been lavish occasions with gifts, their favorite food for dinner, and of course a beautifully decorated cake. If she got a present this small it would be an expensive piece of jewelry. But for Tom …

"I was saving them to open tonight" Tom commented. He didn't add that he wanted to fix a cup of tea to drink while he relished his letters and the gift. He might have preferred a nip or two of good Irish whiskey but that might have made him too maudlin. Although he always missed his family, he was reminded more so at Christmas and his birthday what he was missing by being here at Downton.

Sybil rose from her seat by the work bench. "I'm sorry I didn't know. There is still so much we need to learn about each other" Sybil blushed "as friends of course."

"We should know birthdays, and favorite foods, and …" Sybil continued.

Tom interrupted Sybil as he asked earnestly "Are we friends Sybil?"

Sybil looked at him with surprise all over her face. "Of course Tom. I consider you my friend."

"Then that is the best birthday present I could hope for." Tom noted how she blushed before she lowered her head in that way she often did.

May 1916

When he had come to Downton, he never imagined that he'd still be here three years later. To his surprise he found he loved the job. His lordship was a good employer, certainly much better than Tom thought an aristocratic Englishman would be. He enjoyed driving his lordship's motor cars and kept them in fine running condition. Tom had always loved tinkering with all things mechanical and certainly motor cars were no exception to that. He could lose himself for hours working on one of the motor cars.

Good working conditions, good living conditions, good wages, Tom would enumerate for anyone the reasons for his continuing to work at Downton. But the real reason was one that he never said aloud, never admitted to anyone, in fact he tried to tell himself it wasn't really the reason he stayed. But he knew … he knew that she was the reason he stayed.

Lady Sybil Crawley.

The very thought of her would put a smile on his face. His day was made brighter whenever he saw her. He knew he was falling in love with her. He had had two serious relationships when he was still in Ireland. One had almost led to the altar but in the end Tom knew it wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want to be tied down in marriage at such a young age. But now he knew, as wonderful as those relationships had been at the time, he knew he didn't feel then like he did now when he was with Sybil.

He never knew when she would show up in the garage but it seemed like almost every day now she would. With the war going on, she had less reasons to go shopping, less reasons for ordering the car, so instead she would come to the garage to see him.

He was wiping his hands on a clean cloth, having just finished changing two of the spark plugs, when Sybil entered the garage. Although she had walked purposely into the garage, she now stood looking rather shyly with both her hands behind her back.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" Sybil asked somewhat bashfully.

"Of course not" Tom replied. "I just finished what I was doing so it's a perfect time actually."

"Good" Sybil uttered before she realized it.

Tom looked at her wondering why she seemed hesitant or unsure of herself which wasn't like her.

"You can't spend all day working when it's your birthday."

"You remembered?" Tom was surprised but secretly pleased that she had remembered.

"Of course I remembered. I remember the things you tell me" Sybil replied with a smile on her face.

"Maybe we could have some tea?" Sybil asked. "Or maybe a cold bottle of cider?"

"It will have to be tea I'm afraid. I don't have any cider" Tom replied. "Although cider does sound nice."

"Well it's a good thing I just happen to have a bottle" Sybil said as she finally brought one of her arms out from behind her back. She was holding a bottle of cider. "Sorry it's just the one bottle … we'll have to share."

"I think I can manage that" Tom laughed as he took the bottle from her. He searched the work bench until he finally found his tea mug. "I only have the one mug."

"Or we could just share the bottle" Sybil boldly stated.

Tom looked at her in amazement and thought this woman will never fail to amaze me.

"Although I guess one of us should use the mug so we can make a toast."

"A toast?" Tom asked.

"Of course, it is your birthday. We need to toast for your good health and a good year" Sybil responded in all sincerity.

"Another English tradition I suppose?"

"Well I don't know if it's English but we always do a toast although it's usually with wine or champagne" Sybil admitted. "Sorry I couldn't get a bottle of either."

"It's the thought that counts" Tom countered. "I'm pleased you thought of cider."

He poured some of the cider into the now clean mug and offered it to her noting that she was still standing with her other hand behind her back.

As he tapped her mug with the bottle, he offered the following toast, a traditional Irish one.

"To all the days here and after
May they be filled with fond memories, happiness, and laughter"

Sybil laughed. "I thought I was suppose to make the toast but that was better than anything I could think of."

After they both had taken a sip of the cider, Sybil brought forth her other hand which held a brightly wrapped package. "Happy Birthday Tom" she said as she handed him the gift.

"Sybil" Tom said with genuine surprise in his voice. "I …I … I don't know what"

Sybil laughed "Just open it Tom. Now."

Tom smiled as he tore the paper and saw the book.

"I noticed you had taken it several times from papa's library"

"You mean you took your father's book?" Tom exclaimed.

"No silly. I bought it. I certainly couldn't have papa think you pilfered one of his books."

Tom looked back and forth between the book and Sybil. He couldn't believe how thoughtful she had been in selecting his present. For that matter he couldn't believe she had bought him a birthday present.

Yes … it was Lady Sybil Crawley that kept him at Downton.

May 1917

The war had changed so much including Downton which was now serving as a convalescent home for wounded officers. It was at Sybil's, or rather Nurse Crawley's, urging that had happened.

However, an unintended consequence of that was that Sybil now had more freedom that she had ever had. She worked at both the Downton Cottage Hospital and at the convalescent home. She worked long hours but they varied each day. There was now a constant stream of people coming and going from the Abbey including nurses, doctors, and patients. There was no one to monitor her comings and goings.

In many ways all of this made it so much easier for Tom and Sybil to be together and they certainly took advantage of it. While her family may have thought she was working at the hospital, she would spend hours with Tom in the garage. On his half days off they often drove somewhere on the estate, away from any prying eyes, and shared a picnic luncheon. Oh how Tom looked forward to those days off.

Although Sybil had not yet given him an answer to his proposal which he had made back in the fall when he took her to York for her nurses training, they had become even closer when she had returned from her course. Outside of Isobel, he was the only one she could discuss her work with. While he wasn't too enthused listening to some of the more harrowing stories, he knew she needed someone to talk to and therefore he was more than willing to oblige. He'd do anything that brought him closer to her.

Today had been an especially busy one for Tom. He had taken Lord Grantham to a meeting in York, then returned to Downton to help move patients from the cottage hospital to the abbey, then returned York to get his lordship. With all the extra work he had been doing lately he was quite tired and retired to his cottage fairly early.

He almost didn't answer the knock on his cottage door. Shouldn't he be able to have some time off, some time just to be by himself. But the knocker was rather insistent, so Tom felt he had no choice but to answer the impatiently waiting visitor.

To his surprise this turned out to be Sybil. Seeing him with his shirt undone and no tie on, Sybil suddenly realized how late it was but she hadn't been able to come any earlier.

"I … I … couldn't let the day go by" Sybil finally managed to stammer. "I had to wish you a happy birthday."

Seeing her there, standing in his doorway, holding a small cake, Tom felt he was in heaven.

May 1918

When it started it was said the war would be over by Christmas; yet now it was almost four years later and still the war raged on. Sybil was horrified by much of what she had seen. If it wasn't for Tom, she wasn't sure she would have gotten through the past year. She knew that no matter how long the day, he would be waiting for her. He would comfort her if the day had been bad, he would laugh with her if that is what she wanted, he would make her forget, if even for just a little while, of the war.

Tom wanted the war to be over for many reasons. He had seen the effects of it on the patients, on Sybil, on Mr. Matthew. William, kind, sweet William was dead way before anyone should be.

After the war she had said that was when she would give him an answer to his proposal. It wasn't easy waiting so long especially when he thought … he knew … she loved him. He was sure of it.

Last week had been his birthday. He thought that Sybil had so much on her mind that she might not remember it and when she had asked him to drive her to Thirsk to visit a former patient that day, his heart a sunk a little bit. She had never mentioned an attachment to any patient but there she was waiting for him holding a large covered basket when he drove up to the front door of Downton.

They were only a couple of miles from the house when Sybil began giving him directions. It was when the last turn was a dirt road, little more than a wide path, that he began to suspect something.

He felt a bit of anger with himself when he realized it was all a ruse. She had managed to get them away from the garage for a few hours. For a few glorious hours that had sat talking and eating a wonderful picnic lunch as if they had no cares or worries at all. He knew that this would be one of his best birthdays ever regardless of what happened in the future.

May 1919

They were Ireland. His greatest wish had come true. When she had mentioned his upcoming birthday, he said he already had his present … he had gotten it when she had agreed to marry him and come to Ireland to live.

She had told him he was silly, that everyone should celebrate their birthday.

So on this birthday, the first one he was back in Ireland, they spent it at the local pub surrounded by his family and friends. Sybil was just getting use to the idea that in Ireland many special occasions were celebrated at the local pub. While Tom was now openly with Sybil and they no longer had to hide their relationship, he found that living at his mother's house they had less private time than at Downton. At least at the pub, he could hold her in his arms as they danced and once or twice managed to sneak a kiss.

"Happy Birthday Tom" Sybil whispered in Tom's ear as they danced.

"It will always be happy as long as you're with me Sybil" Tom replied.

A/N: I enjoyed writing this one and when I finished I thought of other possibilities such as Tom's Christmases or Sybil's birthdays or Christmases or a continuation of this one with future years either canon or noncanon. Would any of those be of interest to you?