I'm sorry I haven't updated 12LofC, but I haven't been in the mood to write. BUT I caught the bug again and I want to test the waters again with a one-shot. I don't write any other pairing than Sybil/Tom, but I'm going to try my hand at writing another ship.
The dialogue/banter for this was incredibly difficult since there was the bare minimum of lines between these two characters to make a proper ship. Plus, one character had barely ANY lines, so I'm basing her off of what kind of a person I think she is.
I'm actually quite surprised that this ship has no fics, considering that the lady in this ship is a FREAKING BADASS.
If there are any mistakes, please tell me. I wrote this at 1 AM last night. 1-AM-editing me is kinda sloppy. I apologize.
This is just a small glimpse into what could/would/should have been.
o o o
This was her last night at Downton, but she was sure this wasn't going to be the last time she stepped on English soil.
She vowed she would come back one day, whether it be a year or ten.
She would come back to this place, where they unexpectedly found friendship and perhaps, love.
Her first distinct memory of him was sitting across from him at the servants hall.
Everyone around the table was laughing and chatting quietly as they were having their tea. His aunt, Miss O'Brien (what a piece of work…), was still attending to Lady Grantham so he was sitting alone with no one to talk to. He sat silently in his chair at the end of the table, staring at the brown liquid at the bottom of his cup. His gleaming ginger hair was shining in the sunlight coming through the small window. Even sitting down he towered over everyone, but his shoulders were slumped and his face was the longest one in the room, compared to the smiling and laughing faces of the others.
He didn't belong.
Neither did she.
As she entered the hall, the chatter quieted and slowly the pairs of eyes slowly crept up to her. She pursed her lips to hold back any…unsavory words…she had towards the kitchen maids, housemaids, and hall boys gawking at her. She reached for a cup and saucer for herself from the head of the table, but stopped. For good measure, she placed a cup and saucer on the tea tray, picked it up, tea pot and all, and headed for the end of the table.
The sound of her footsteps made the red headed footman cautiously look up from the cold cup of tea sitting in front of him. She slid the tray in front of him and took the seat opposite.
Annoyed at her new "admirers" she proceeded to mutter, "What a bunch of…"
Wide eyed and a little bit unnerved, Alfred finally choked out a sentence that interrupted her thoughts. "Miss Reed?"
Her attention was now focused on the frightened footman. His eyebrows were halfway up his forehead and his mouth was slightly open. She smiled at his reaction. It's nice to shock people once in a while.
She rolled her eyes slightly and looked into his. A smirk crossed her lips. If he was anything like she thought he was, he would take her next comment in stride.
"Can you believe them? Someone new comes in and it's like you've disrupted the entire universe."
Alfred's eyes went a little wider before they went back to normal. He rolled his eyes too and glanced at the mob of people at the other end of the table, staring shamelessly at the two odd ones out.
"Tell me about it."
They shared a smile and a quick laugh.
"I don't believe we've properly met. I'm Miss Reed, Mrs. Levinson's ladies maid."
She stuck her hand out, fully expecting him to take it and shake it.
He narrowed his eyes, looked at her hand and looked back at her face. He took his hand and reached out for hers. His large hand enveloped hers in a warm embrace. They shook it for a moment, letting all the formalities fade away.
"I'm Alfred. I'm the new footman."
She wasn't worried. He may fall in love with other women and she may fall in love with other men while they were separated but it doesn't matter. What they have is real. Even if what they have lasts only for a brief second, they could cherish it because not everyone has what they have.
Knowing that this was probably going to be the last time she would see Alfred for a long while, Reed was determined to make the best of the last few hours they had together. No, they wouldn't be as reckless to do THAT tonight, but she wanted to enjoy Alfred's company and he, hers.
In the middle of the night, making sure that everyone was asleep, Reed snuck into the men's corridors and tapped lightly on Alfred's door. He immediately opened the door, fully dressed in a grey suit and cap, coat hanging on his arm. She was dressed in a simple blouse and skirt, but they were covered by her long black coat and her messily made bun was shoved underneath a hat.
Reed whispered though the inky black darkness. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah."
"Do you have the blankets?"
He lifted the coat from his forearm, revealing the set of blankets for tonight. "I hope three is okay. And the basket is in the kitchen. It's just cheese and bread, but it should do."
Eyes now adjusted, they grinned at each other and Alfred offered his arm to the petite American girl in front of him. She wrapped her arms around his and they quietly tiptoed out of Downton and into the dark night.
Tonight, they would have a picnic under the stars. Laugh, talk, kiss, and enjoy each others company. The dark of the night sky kept them hidden. They picked a nice spot on the expansive, lush lawn and laid a blanket down. They sat down and immediately started to nibble on the cheese and bread that they had borrowed from the kitchens. They talked for what seemed like hours. There were lovely moments when they kissed under the cover of night. Moments of silence where they took in the awe of the vast universe and of each other. Small gestures that would convince onlookers that they were a couple in love: Alfred covering her shoulders with his coat to keep her from shivering, Reed taking his hands between hers and rubbing them to keep warm, laughing their hardest and doubling over from the pain of their joy. Tonight wasn't going to last, but the memories would be forever engraved in their hearts and minds.
Soon, sleep was calling both their names. Alfred took one of the blankets and used it as a pillow. He laid down and opened his arms to her, beckoning her to lay with him. It was a gesture he normally thought was reserved only for married couples, but something about her made him step out of his comfort zone. Finally be free to live life without the constraints of the judgmental stares of others. It was more than nice. It was perfect.
She settled in the nook in his shoulder and covered them with the last (and thankfully thickest) blanket. Reed snuck her hand to his chest and felt as his chest rose and fell with each breath. They were in the last few moments together. She would treasure them until they made more.
She twiddled with a button on his waistcoat. She was worried for him. Once she left, he would be alone again. He would sulk around and be content to be bullied.
No. She wouldn't stand for it. He needed someone, even if it wasn't her. "You need a strong girl Alfred."
He kissed the top of her head and snuggled into the mass of curls. "I got one."
"Yeah, but what about when I leave? You need to stand up for yourself. You need someone who's going to fight your corner and be on your side. Someone who's going to be there for you."
"Are you not going to send me your strength from across the ocean? I need my fierce American girl by my side."
She laughed and relished at the vibrations his voice made in his chest. "I'm serious Alfred."
"I don't know…"
Silence fell. Unsure of what to say next, she decided to say what her heart told her. It was an invitation.
"If it gets unbelievably terrible, you know where to find me."
"I'll beg Mr. Carson and Lord Grantham to take me when the family decides to visit Newport." She propped herself up and he wiggled his eyebrows at her, which earned him one of her bright smiles.
With the hand he wasn't holding Reed with, he brushed a few strands of hair from her face. She was so beautiful in the moonlight. The light from the stars glowed on her radiant skin. Her dark hair was a stark contrast to her skin. In the black and white filter of the night, it made her features more dramatic. Her dark eyes shown through the whites of her eyes. They twinkled when he started to stoke her cheek.
"You've been here for two months and I only know your last name."
Reed smiled. She didn't particularly like her given name and she only told people who she could really trust.
"Lucy. Lucy Reed. It's nice to meet you Alfred…"
She quirked an eyebrow. She realized that he had never shared his last name with her.
"Nugent."
She stretched up gave him a light peck on the cheek before she settled back down on his chest.
Alfred Nugent.
A wonderful sounding name for a wonderful man.
It was a name she wouldn't mind having one day.
Lucy Nugent. Not bad…
'Alfred Reed sounds better…or better still…Alfreed…' She nuzzled against his chest as she drifted to sleep, laying in Alfred's arms.
. . .
The next morning they awoke to the subtle sound of footsteps on grass. They groggily looked around to find Tom Branson, Lady Sybil's husband, smirking at them.
Reed scrambled to get up from Alfred's arms. "Oh my God!"
Alfred, who woke up slowly, tried to get up but got his foot caught in the blanket, which caused him to yell and fall over in a heap at Reed's feet. Their faces turned from an ashen white to a scarlet red, knowing that Mr. Branson was jumping to conclusions. Their hair was mussed from sleep and the bags under their eyes were a tell-tale sign of a late night.
Alfred broke the silence. "Mr. Branson, I can explain…"
Tom raised his hand to him to stop him. He didn't need an explanation.
"Don't worry. The family's not awake. I woke up much earlier than Sybil this morning and I decided to take a walk. You still have time to get back to the house." He smirked and the smile was reaching his eyes.
"I won't give you away."
The pair looked at each other, nodded, and said their thanks to the Irishman. The ran, hand in hand, back to the servant's entrance. They never once looked back.
Once at the door, Alfred wrapped his arms around her and she took his face in her hands to bring it down to her. Their lips met for the last time and they knew.
In all her time as a ladies maid, she never once thought of the prospect of love.
Now there was only one.
Alfred Nugent.
