Here it is! The conclusion to this little tale, inspired by a song that just gave me all sorts of S/T feels. Fair warning, if you're a lover of Gwen/William, there's quite a bit of that in this chapter too :oP Again, happy birthday to shana-rosee, and thanks again for reading this little story! Updates to other fics will soon follow (and I haven't forgotten about LCJ, oh eager reviewer; just please be patient). But I hope you enjoy! And without further ado...


Part III

Four months later…

The blaring sound of his alarm broke through his dreams and with a groan he reached out and hit the annoying clock, knocking it to the ground. He rolled over onto his other side, his arms instinctively reaching out as if to hold something, though there was nothing there. There hadn't been anything there for four months…

At that thought his eyes reluctantly opened, and as he always did, he gazed at the pillow she had once used, trying to once again imagine her beautiful head lying upon it. The thought made him smile, as well as sigh sadly—God, he missed her; mornings were always the hardest.

His mind wandered back again to that night, four months ago, when they had met again and danced. An impromptu date suddenly took place; they left the club together, not bothering to say anything to anyone, and took to the streets of London, wandering up and down every alleyway and through practically every borough (or at least through the ones close by). They took the tube to wherever they fancied: Charring Cross, Piccadilly, Oxford Street, even Abbey Road. Along the way, he bought fish and chips and they both sat in a near-deserted park, under a canopy of stars, eating their meal and laughing as they continued talking and exchanging stories and just getting to know each other better and better. Apparently, the little Thomas knew about her was true: she was posh, or had come from a posh family. Her father was an earl, for God's sake! Which technically meant she was Lady Sybil, though she loathed the title. Her family had an estate (a bleedin' estate!) up in Yorkshire, where Gwen's mother still worked as housekeeper (which explained how Sybil and Gwen knew each other growing up). Sybil herself actually lived in York now, where she was finishing her final year of nurses training. He would never have guessed that about her, but he was quickly convinced as he listened to her passionately talk about nursing and how in her opinion, nurses were the unsung heroes of any medical practice, the ones who truly reached out to the care and comfort of all patients and saw them as people, something she felt doctors sometimes forgot.

They continued to talk for hours and hours, and never seemed to run out of something to say. It just felt so easy and natural to just…be with her like this. This woman is my destiny…

They were eventually shooed out of the park by a wandering policeman, but Sybil wasn't ready to return to Eaton Square where her aunt lived. And honestly, without meaning to, they found themselves back at his place.

He would be lying if he claimed that desire wasn't coursing through him. But he didn't push or make a suggestion or even try to kiss her (though he desperately wanted to). Just as dancing with her and talking for hours on end seemed so natural, so too did lying beside her on his bed. They fell asleep like that, her body (still clothed) curled into his (also still clothed), with his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"And you didn't shag!?" Thomas had exclaimed. Why was he so exasperated? "After eight months of pining, she's finally back in London and you have her IN YOUR BED and…nothing!?"

It wasn't "nothing", as Thomas seemed to think. Tom didn't regret that night, not in the slightest. Holding her like that may have been one of the most intimate experiences he had ever had. And he smiled at the memory of waking early the next morning, the sun just rising over the rooftops outside, a few rays streaming into the room and creating a soft glow about her.

He was in love. Hopelessly, utterly, and completely. He knew in that early morning moment as he gazed at her beautiful sleeping face that he loved her, and he felt it grow more and more with each passing day since.

Tom sighed and slowly forced himself to sit up. Four months since that night…four months since she had slept in his arms, then woke to catch a cab and return to her aunt's. His eyes drifted to the window by his bed, where he could see the street below, where he remembered standing with her as she waited for her cab, neither of them speaking, but both of them touching in some way, whether it was linked hands or his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist.

"When will you be back?" he couldn't help but ask. Please don't let it be another eight months…

"I'm nearly done with school…" she told him. "I just have a few more months, and then I'll have completed my training and receive my certification."

"And will you come back then?" he had asked, not even bothering to hide his hope.

She looked up at him and he swore time stopped.

"…Would you like me to?"

He wanted to roar a resounding, "YES!" but instead, he smiled at her and prayed she could see the yearning and desire to be with her again in his eyes and on his face.

She smiled back and another beautiful blush colored her cheeks. "It will be some time…I really need to concentrate on my studies—"

"I'll wait forever."

Her eyes widened at his declaration, and a part of him worried that he had been too forward. He hadn't told her how he truly felt, how deeply she affected him and seemed to be the sole owner of his heart. But his worries melted away at the sweet smile she returned, before giggling back, "I'm not asking for forever, just…four more months."

At that moment her cab arrived, and with a heavy heart, he opened the door for her and helped her inside, as if he were an Edwardian chauffeur. She must have thought the same thing, because she murmured, "thank you, Branson," before winking at him.

His hands gripped the door for a moment longer than necessary, then forced himself to let go and close it. But just before the cab pulled away, she told the driver to stop and Tom wasted no time to lean in at the open window to find out why, and then all thoughts and manner of speaking were robbed of him (and quite possibly the very breath from his body) when she once again grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him in for a quick kiss. And this time, on the lips.

It was over before he had the chance to kiss her back (properly kiss her back as he dreamed of doing), but even so, her kiss was sweet and he knew he would be thinking of nothing else for the next four months. He knew he would start counting the days, quite possibly the seconds, until she returned.

With a groan and stretch, Tom finally lifted himself out of bed and moved to the loo to start his morning routine. Yet he hadn't gone but a few steps before there was a pounding on his door. What on earth…?

He unlocked the door and hadn't even opened it completely before it burst open and William rushed inside. "Help!"

Tom stared wide-eyed at his friend. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's Gwen," William groaned.

Tom's eyes widened even more. "Is she alright? Is she hurt?"

"No—well, I hope not, I—I don't know!"

Tom frowned. "You're not making any sense—look, just calm down; have a seat and I'll make us some tea—"

"I can't sit," William shook his head. "I...I need to make things right—"

He moved as if to leave even though he had just gotten there, but Tom blocked his way. "William, calm down," he repeated, putting extra emphasis on his words. "Talk to me, what happened?" He hated to mention it, but he was starting to suspect. "…Did you and Gwen have a fight?"

William closed his eyes and sighed. Well, that pretty much answered that.

"Yesterday…" he began. "I ran into Daisy."

Tom winced, having an idea of where this was going.

"It was a complete accident; we were on the tube and saw each other. I didn't know what to do, I even thought of pretending as if I hadn't seen her, but knew that was stupid, so…so I offered her a smile and she smiled back, and then made her way towards me, and…and we talked. BUT THAT'S ALL, I SWEAR!"

"William," Tom intervened. "I believe you, I trust you." William was the last person on the planet who would cheat.

"…There were some problems on the tube; you know how they've been having closures on the Hammersmith line? Anyway, we all had to get off and Daisy was worried she wouldn't make it in time to her class—"

"Class?"

"Yeah, she's in cooking school!" William said with a smile, and he genuinely seemed proud for her. Tom couldn't help but smile back. "Anyway, she said something about her teacher being a right…well, her teacher didn't tolerate tardiness of any kind, and she was convinced she was on the woman's bad side already, so she decided to get a cab, and I followed her up out of the station intending to just walk the rest of my way, but Daisy realized she didn't have enough cash on her for a cab, and…and so I just dug into my pocket and gave her some money, and she was so moved by the gesture, she threw her arms around me and hugged me—but that's all! We didn't kiss or anything, I swear!"

"Ok," Tom nodded his head, not doubting William's words one bit. However he had a good idea to what happened next. "And then…?"

William's entire body seemed to sag and crumple then. "Gwen saw us," he groaned. "She was on the other side of the street and she saw both myself and Daisy leaning in, and…and thought we were kissing or something!"

"But did you explain to her that Daisy was just hugging you? I mean, I'm sure Gwen would understand—"

William was shaking his head. "No Tom, this is so much worse! I fucked up; I really, really fucked up! Because Gwen didn't confront me then, I was actually on my way to see her, and…and I sensed something was wrong, but didn't question it, because I was so nervous—"

"Why?" Tom asked, and then William did surprise him as he tug into the pocket of his jacket and revealed a small, velvet box. He didn't have to open it for Tom to know what was inside.

"I didn't say anything about Daisy, I just acted as if nothing had happened, and I didn't realize Gwen was asking me questions, dropping 'hints', but I was so thick I didn't realize until it was too late. Gwen lost her temper and accused me of cheating on her with my ex-girlfriend, and…and…"

Poor bloke looked like he was going to cry. From what Tom could tell, he already had been.

"She wouldn't return any of my phone calls or texts; I went to her place, but learned from a neighbor of hers that she's gone—but I don't know where!"

"Alright, we'll get to the bottom of this—"

"I love her, Tom! I love her and I don't want to lose her, I…I was going to…" he looked down at the box again and like before, his face crumpled and new tears began to flow.

Before Tom could say anything more, his mobile started ringing. He saw Thomas' name flash up on the screen. "Look, can I call you back?" he sighed into the phone, but Thomas spoke right over him.

"Is William there?"

Tom glanced at William then brought his attention back to his mobile. "Yeah, he's here…do you know?"

"Oh boy do I know," Thomas muttered. "Gwen texted me late last night and told me what happened—well, told me her understanding of what happened. But I don't buy it, William would never—"

"Did Gwen say where she was?" Tom interrupted, and at the mention of his girlfriend, William looked up.

"She was on her way back to Yorkshire when she texted me," Thomas answered. That was all the information Tom needed.

"Come on," he said, looking at William. "We're going to Yorkshire."

"NOT WITHOUT ME!" Thomas shouted before Tom hung up.


It was Thomas' idea that they drive, but it was Tom who insisted on driving. Really, of the three of them, he was the best driver; William was still distraught, and Thomas could become easily distracted (especially since he wanted to hear about everything that had happened through William). Tom just concentrated on the road, though he couldn't help but think about the possibility, however small, that maybe, just maybe…he would see Sybil.

Yorkshire's a big place. But he knew where she was!

York is a big place too. Not as big as London…

This isn't about you and Sybil, don't be so selfish! True…he had agreed to do this for William, to help William fix things with Gwen. Besides, Sybil was trying to finish up her nurses training; she didn't need him to distract her from her studies, and she had said that she would come back to London when it was all finished.

I just miss her…

God, how he missed her.

By the time they entered the Yorkshire countryside, Tom suddenly realized that the place Gwen had most likely gone was the home of Sybil's family. After all, Gwen's mum was the housekeeper there. Would the Crawleys be there? Would Tom see them? Meet them? And if he did, what would he say?

"Hi, my name's Tom Branson, and I'm in love with your daughter. We've only met twice, but after dancing with her, I just knew deep in my heart that she's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And no, I don't have an estate of my own…or a title…or any kind of money; in fact, I'm rather against the aristocracy—"

Yeah, probably best to not say that. Probably best to not say anything.

Less than an hour later, Tom started to see signs announcing the upcoming arrival of Downton Village, and even more signs for "Downton Abbey", which was clearly the biggest draw from a tourist's perspective in this area. The spires of the estate's towers were the first thing he saw, even though they were still a great distance from the village. "Holy shit," Thomas muttered, echoing Tom's thoughts exactly.

"What do we do?" William whispered, also staring at the estate with widening eyes.

"Get out and knock on the door," Tom answered as they drew closer.

"But what if she isn't here?"

"Only one way to find out," Tom murmured.

However, there was a slight hiccup to this plan. While Tom had been worrying about what to do or say should he by chance come across members of Sybil's family, he had never anticipated what he…or they…should do, if something were happening at the estate.

And something was.

"What the bloody hell is all this?" Thomas muttered, looking out the window at the large and lavish cream-colored tents, and men dressed to the nines in white tie and black tails, carrying trays of finger foods to the various posh folk who were gathered in the shade of these tents. "Did we wander onto the set of some ITV period drama?"

Tom ignored the strange looks coming from the various…caterers…and without word or thought, simply parked next to all the luxury cars off to the side and got out.

The three of them stuck out like sore thumbs; everyone around them was dressed in pristine whites and fashionable hats as if they were at Ascot. "Let's be quick," Tom muttered under his breath. It was clear, based on some of the confused and even harsh looks given to them that they were not welcome.

"Where do we even start?" William lamented.

"Look for red hair?" Thomas suggested. "Or we could try talking to bloke who looks like he's going to rip our throats out?"

Tom and William followed Thomas' finger to a large, burly-looking man that Tom could only conclude was the estate's butler (did that job still exist?)

If they ran, they would look guilty, and Tom had little doubt the man would call the police…or sic the dogs…or both, upon them should they try. So instead he squared his shoulders and lifted his chin and met the butler square in the eye as the man descended upon them.

"What is the meaning of this!?" the man gruffly demanded. "Who are you? Why are you here!?"

"Easy, Jeeves—" Thomas attempted, but the butler bristled at the nickname.

"We're looking for Mrs. Dawson," Tom cut in, casting Thomas a glare that told him to be quiet.

The butler's eyes narrowed. "What business do you have with her?" he demanded.

"We're friends of her daughter, Gwen," Tom went on to explain. "And…and we have some very important news to share with her."

The butler's eyes narrowed even further. How can he even see? Tom wondered. "And that news is?"

William finally spoke up. "I'm her boyfriend."

The butler's eyebrows lifted.

"Meaning, I'm Gwen's—that is, Miss Dawson's boyfriend."

The butler looked back and forth between William and the others. "And this is the 'news'?"

"No, well…I mean, I…I just really need to speak with her, I made a terrible mistake—"

"Indeed," the butler growled.

William swallowed. "Please, I…" he dug into his pocket and pulled out the box. He even opened it to show the butler the ring it contained. "I love her, she means everything to me, and I need to see her, to ask for her forgiveness and make things right and—"

"William?"

All eyes then turned to the familiar voice of Gwen, who was dressed similarly to the other caterers, and who was also holding a tray of some kind, while staring in shock and surprise at seeing them there…and then staring in even bigger shock at what William was holding.

"Oh…my…God…"

William fell to his knees then.

"OH MY GOD!"

She walked right up to the butler and thrust the tray she was holding into the man's unsuspecting hands. "Take it! TAKE IT!" she all but ordered, not even looking at him, her eyes completely locked with William's and tears starting to fall as a tender, loving smile began to spread across her face.

William smiled back and began to murmur, "Gwen, I swear, nothing is happening between me and Daisy, we're just friends. You're the one I love, the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, the—"

Tom and Thomas (and the butler) had to jump back by the full force of Gwen tackling William when she threw her arms around him and started kissing him madly. Crisis adverted it would seem!

"I say that calls for a drink," Thomas muttered in Tom's ear. Tom smiled and nodded in agreement.

Before the butler could stop them, they quickly moved out of his vision and grabbed two champagne flutes from a nearby tray. "To the happy couple!" Thomas cheered, before downing his glass in one gulp. Tom chuckled and nodded his head in agreement, but unlike his friend, didn't down the champagne but rather looked back at William and Gwen who were smiling and kissing and murmuring various things to each other, all the while ignoring the people around them, including the butler who was giving them disdainful glares, and again his mind wandered back to Sybil, and the wonderful night they had shared four months ago, and how he knew then without any further doubt that she was the one for him.

Don't you dare look back…

No, he wouldn't.

"I need to go to York," he told Thomas.

Thomas frowned. "Wait, what? Why?"

Tom smiled at his friend and clapped him on the shoulder. "Destiny," he answered.

But Destiny had a mind of its own, because he hadn't even gone a step before the crowd in front of him parted and revealed a woman standing off to the side of a make-shift dance floor, in an elegant white dress like so many others, and looking right back at him.

Tom had always heard that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But in that moment, as he looked at her, his future suddenly flashed before his.

Sybil, in a different white gown, walking down an aisle; Sybil's arm linked with his as they were declared husband and wife. Sybil, her wild hair spread across the pillow as she gasped his name on their wedding night. Sybil working as a nurse, coming home at the end of a long day and telling him all about her shift. He and Sybil building a life together, owning a home together, painting a nursery together. Sybil, her beautiful body glowing from pregnancy. He gripping her hand, mopping the sweat from her brow, and then gasping with joy as their child was placed in his arms. The both of them dreaming, building, living for each other and their family, watching their children grow up, watching their children go forward in life and work for their dreams and making them a reality. The both of them being grandparents, their hair turning silver, their faces gaining wrinkles, their bodies bending over with age.

Sybil…dancing with him as she always did as they celebrated their 40th, 50th, 60th anniversary…

This woman is my destiny.

He crossed the space between them as if his life depended upon it (and to him, it felt like it did, it felt like this truly was his last chance).

She smiled and opened her mouth, saying his name, but whatever words she was going to say next were lost, because he was kissing her then, creating quite a stir amongst the people around them, but they didn't care. She moaned and wove her arms around him, and his own tightened around her waist and the world around them began to spin.

When the kiss did end, a long, shaky breath escaped her lips. She clung to him to keep her balance, but Tom had no intention of letting her fall (or go, for that matter). She gazed up at him through hazy eyes, her face beautifully pink. Someone was saying something over her shoulder, but Tom found himself whispering to her, "don't you dare look back," which caused her to giggle.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she promised.

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss her again, but just before their lips touched, he murmured, "I love you."

To which she responded, "I love you too…now shut up and kiss me."


One Year Later…

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the bride and groom!"

Everyone applauded as the couple smiled and took to the dance floor, the bride leaning her head on the groom's shoulder, as he wrapped her tightly in his arms and they swayed to the music. Everyone watched and smiled and yes, there were even a few tears shed.

When the wedding dance had ended, everyone else was invited to join the bride and groom on the dance floor.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Mason," Tom chuckled as he nudged his friends.

"Leave them be," Sybil giggled, pulling him away from the bride and groom, eager to have him all to herself. Tom didn't dare argue. "It was a beautiful wedding, don't you think?"

Tom nodded his head. "Aye; and the reception is quite grand too."

"Yes, well, Mama and Papa insisted that Gwen use Downton—free of charge, of course," she added, attempting to mimic her haughty grandmother.

"Very generous," Tom chuckled.

"Yes, the upper classes can be quite 'magnanimous' when it suits them."

"Like when posh earl's daughters take a chance on an Irish lad and ask him to dance with her?"

"Like when a nursing student recognizes her equal in said Irish lad," Sybil countered, which brought a smile to his face and he couldn't help but pull her closer, kissing her deeply.

"Did I ever thank you for that dance?" Tom asked her when their lips parted.

Sybil grinned. "I think when you suggested we elope to Gretna Green that you made your thanks quite known."

Tom's thumb ran over the wedding ring on Sybil's finger. "Well, all the same…thank you; for dancing with me and agreeing to be my wife."

"It's only fair, seeing as how you agreed to be my husband."

They both laughed and kissed again. Tom rested his brow against hers but found his eyes wandering to the grandness of the space around them, and not for the first time that day, found himself wondering if she missed not having all this. And as if reading his mind, Sybil answered, "I don't look back, you know…"

Tom's eyes met hers once again, and his cheeks blushed but his heart swelled at her words.

Her smile widened and her hands moved to cup his face. "I just keep my eyes on you."

"No holding back?" he asked her, his tone light and teasing.

Sybil grinned. "Never."

"Good," Tom murmured, before causing her to gasp as he dipped her. "Now, shut up and dance with me, Mrs. Branson."

The End