Hello friends! I've had a crazy last week touring with my choir. But long bus rides means lots of writing and editing, so I'm happy to say that I am currently writing chapter 9 right now! :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter- all the drama and tropes of our favorite couple's first date! Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Phrase Three- First Date

Two weeks later, Mary was back in Sybil's apartment, once again trying to beat jet lag and enduring another lecture from her mother.

"Please be civil on this date, Mary," Cora was saying, as she sipped her tea on the couch while Mary paced, "I'm making sure that cameras will be there so you'll have to be on your best behavior."

"When am I not?" Mary scoffed.

"Don't make me answer that," Cora snapped.

"This whole thing is absurd," Mary said, "I should have just stayed in Paris."

"And miss my graduation?" Sybil said.

"I came back for you, darling," Mary told her, putting a hand lightly on sister's arm.

"Right, you remember the story right?" Cora said, "You came home from Paris for a long weekend for Sybil's graduation and then she surprised you by setting you up with a blind date with one of her do-gooder friends. That's what tonight's date is- a surprising but perfect first date. Tomorrow you'll agree to meet up to walk Matthew's dog around Central Park. At the end of that date he'll surprise you with tickets to a Broadway show so that he can see you one last time before you go back to Paris. The next day, at the end of the Broadway show, you'll surprise him with a plane ticket to Paris the next weekend."

"That's rather fast," Mary remarked, "Even for Mary Crawley."

"We need fast. The quicker we can establish that you two are together, the quicker we can start mending your public image," Cora explained.

Mary nodded and sighed, slumping into one of Sybil's armchairs. Even when she thought she was safe in Paris, she had spotted paparazzi peaking through the windows at her work. The Tony Foyle scandal had faded from the headlines, but the fall out of it was still popping up. Mabel was filing for divorce. Other celebrities were speaking out about how awful it was that this had happened to Mabel. If Mary wanted her life back, she was going to have to do something soon. Not that she wanted the solution to be dating Matthew Crawley, but she did acknowledge that something had to be done to get her headlines to change.

"He'll be here in five minutes," Cora said, "Why don't you go check your make up?"

Mary rolled her eyes and got up from the couch to the closest bathroom. Mary thought she looked good. She was wearing black tights and a tight red cocktail dress. Red, she always though, was her best color. Her hair was up in a French twist and she thought her make up gave her a sophisticated look. If anything, she would look good in the photos.

Crap, she realized forgot perfume. She reached into the drawer and found one of Sybil's perfumes, a little sample one. She squirted in on her wrist and her collarbone. It smelled like jasmine and she liked it.

"Mary, he's here," Cora called.

Time to face her fate.

Matthew wouldn't say he was drunk. But he wouldn't say he was sober either. Had he planned for this to happen? No. But Tom had thought a few shots might loosen Matthew up for the endeavor and well, they might have taken it a tad bit too far. Luckily, the Crawleys had sent a car for him, so he wasn't be driving, which was probably all that mattered.

He pulled up the building where reportedly Mary's sister, the one Tom was now semi-in love with, lived. A man at the door showed him the elevator that would take him straight up. When he got there, there was a single door. Damn, what 22-year-old had a penthouse? He assumed that Sybil hadn't bought it with her volunteer work, so that meant that her parents had bought it for her. He wondered what they had bought Mary.

He knocked once when the door opened. He had been expecting it to be Mary or Sybil, but instead it Cora Levin. He knew that she had been a bit of musical star back in the eighties but was now married to Robert Crawley CEO. She was the matron of the little Crawley family sideshow.

"Matthew," She said, warming, "We are so happy to have you. Come in! Mary will be right out."

The penthouse was huge. There was a large living area that the door opened to with a flat screen TV and sleek black leather sofas. Matthew thought that college apartments were supposed to be full of garage sale furniture and take out. But this looked like a space for a millionaire. Then again, he supposed they were heiresses after all.

"Hi," said a petite, dark haired young woman, who Matthew recognized from the internet as Sybil, "I'm Sybil. Nice to meet you!"

Matthew shook her hand. She was pretty, Matthew agreed, but when her sister walked down the hallway and into the room- Matthew only had eyes for Mary.

Her dark hair was swept up, revealing her long neck. Her red dress swept low across her chest, tempting Matthew's imagination. The skirt of the dress and tights showed off her slim figure. Tom was right, Mary was simple stunning.

"You must be Matthew," Mary said. Her voice lacked the enthusiasm of her sister's. In fact, Mary sounded quite bored.

Matthew watched her mother give her a look.

"We'll be off now," Mary said to her, "Don't worry. There is no chance I'll be sleeping with Matthew, so fret not over whether I'll commit another scandal tonight."

"Mary," Sybil said, "You've got to stop saying stuff like that."

She gave her sister a smile and Matthew wondered if her sweet younger sister was Mary's weakness.

"Don't mess this up," Cora said to Mary, her voice firm.

"Whatever," Mary sighed, grabbing Matthew's arm and dragging him out the door.

Tom was right about the prickly bit too.

They headed into the elevator and took up an awkward silence. It was then that he realized that he hadn't said a word the whole time he was in Sybil's apartment. God, they must think him terribly daft. He tried to think of something to say to break the silence, but he was hesitant to say anything, afraid it would reveal that he was slightly inebriated.

He glanced down at her again. She had slipped her phone out of her bag and texting furiously. He looked down at her bag and noticed something moving within in.

"Um, Mary," He said, sounding quite stupid, "Is there something moving in your purse?"

"Hmmm," she said, distracted by her phone, "What did you say?"

Matthew felt rather put off. They weren't even off the elevator yet and Mary was hardly paying attention to him.

"I said, is there something in your bag that is moving?" He repeated.

"Oh right," Mary said, her face lighting up at the mention of it. "Are you allergic to rabbits?"

He shook his head and she scooped a tiny grey bunny out of her bag.

"This is Daisy. She goes everywhere with me," Mary explained.

Matthew gaped at her. For a second he wondered how much Tom had put in his drink that he was seeing things. But when Mary held the rabbit up to him, he reached out to pat it and realized that it indeed very real.

He had expected Mary to be dumb. She was stupid enough to accidentally sleep with a married and to decide to have sex in an elevator and to date a gay guy who three months. Clearly, he wasn't expecting much going into this date. But God, what kind of person keeps a live rabbit in their purse?

"Are you serious?" Matthew said.

Mary's face instantly switched from happy to somber. She gave Daisy a kiss and put her back in the bag.

"Of course I am," Mary said.

"You actually carry around a bunny all the time?" Matthew said.

This was so ridiculous.

"She's calming," Mary said with a shrug.

"Because it's not like you can just book a flight to a Bora Bora if you feel stressed from your life of doing nothing," Matthew said, laughing.

"Was that supposed to be funny?" Mary asked, her voice clearly stung.

Shit, what had Matthew been thinking. Even if she was rich and her father was paying him half a billion dollars to date her, that didn't mean that he could say such things to her. Especially since her most recent trip to tropics had resulted in her catastrophic scandal. Matthew felt himself turn scarlet.

"No sorry, that was very rude, wasn't it?" He said.

"Just don't talk till we get to the restaurant," Mary commanded as they exited the elevator and made towards where the car was waiting.

He sat uncomfortably in the car while Mary tapped away at her phone, a frown on her face. Matthew wasn't quite used to being driven. He had always been the sort to take the subway and fly coach, even when he was with Lavinia. Mary's life felt weird around him as they drove through city streets.

"This is it," Mary said, when they arrived at a French restaurant.

The driver opened the door and Mary got out daintily, followed by Matthew. They took a few steps into the warm spring air before immediately entering the restaurant.

It was definitely nicer than his usual greasy spoon that he went to with his mother for brunch or the health-nut restaurants he went to with Lavinia. He had been to his fair share of business dinners and other important soirees, but he imagined this was the sort of place only Mary Crawley dined frequently.

In fact, he knew so, because she was chatting naturally in French with owner who had come to greet her.

"Vous-voulez une table privée, comme d'habitude, madame?" the owner was asking her.

Matthew knew enough French to follow along. Working in international law exposed him to knowing scads of other languages, but Mary spoke French smoothly with a natural accent. He would never speak it so well. He couldn't figure out how it happened. He thought he remembered Mary's father mentioning that Mary normally lived in Paris.

"Pas aujourd'hui, Jacques," She was saying, "J'ai un petit ami nouveau et je lui veux montrer pour le monde."

The man gave Matthew an appraising look.

"Il est beau," the owner decided, "Un acteur?"

"Non," Mary said, "J'ai fini avec les celebrities. Il est un avocat."

"Pas mal," The man said, giving a nod of approval, "Très bien, madame. Allez-y."

Matthew followed Mary and the waiter to their table. It was very open, in the middle of the restaurant. Mary had said she wanted to show him off to the world.

He tried to remember to be well mannered and pull out the chair for Mary, but the shots from earlier were still making everything spin a bit and he accidently knocked the chair over. It landed with a loud thud, disrupting the low hum of the restaurant.

Mary looked completely mortified, as Matthew picked it up, the whole restaurant turning to look at them.

"Are you an idiot?" Mary asked, in a whisper when they both took their seats and the waiter went away.

"Sorry," Matthew muttered. He suddenly felt very hot, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh my god," Mary said, finally piecing it together, "You're drunk aren't you?"

"Not really," Matthew said, reaching for a glass of water and taking huge gulps. He knew his sweaty complexion was not helping his case.

"Not really? Not really isn't good enough," Mary snapped.

"Sorry," He said again.

"Matthew," Mary said, her voice still a whisper so the rest of the restaurant wouldn't hear, "Do you know what is at stake here? You have to take this seriously."

Matthew was angry. Here she was yelling at him for being rude, when she had been putting him down and ignoring him from the first moments she met him.

"Excuse me," Matthew said, "You are one to talk about rudeness. You've been on your damn phone this whole time. You were quite harsh about me in front of your family. You clearly don't want to be here."

"I don't," Mary said, frankly.

"This wasn't this your idea?" Matthew asked, puzzled.

"God no," Mary said, "I think this whole plan is stupid."

Matthew was confused and hurt. She didn't want to do this fake dating plan? He was under the impression that it was helping her. It was probably him, wasn't it? He wasn't attractive enough, not famous enough for her.

"Why? Because it means that you can't sleep with whoever you want? You've got to give up on your celebrities for a few months to date some lawyer nerd?" Matthew said, his voice now biting with fury.

"No," Mary said, not raising her voice, "Is that what you think of me?"

Matthew felt himself sinking deeper into a hole, "I mean, I did my research. I wanted to know who I was getting involved with."

"Oh and who is that? Mary Crawley, former reality TV star? Mary Crawley, vapid heiress? Mary Crawley, whore? Please, tell all about what disgusting tabloid version of myself you are one a date with tonight," Mary said, her voice cold.

Matthew had nothing to say to that.

Tom was right. Mary was smarter than he thought she would be.

"Look," Mary said, "You don't have to like me or think I'm smart or interesting. But you have to respect me."

"I'm sorry," Matthew said.

"For the rest of tonight please don't talk about me again," Mary said, "I am going to make a pleasant face and listen to whatever you have to say- even if it is very boring. You are going to talk about anything you wish- law, politics, traveling, maybe not too many details about those tropical diseases. I am going to sit here and nod like the vapid heiress I am, so that the photographer my mother hired will get a nice picture of us on this stupid date. All you have to do is not look too drunk. Can you handle that?"

Tom was wrong. Mary was very, very clever.

She knew exactly what game she playing. Matthew needed to catch up.

"Right, so politics," Matthew began, talking about whatever came to his mind first.

He began to jabber away, while Mary smiled and nodded at him. Her face looked so sincere, he would have thought that she actually cared about what he was saying. Maybe she really did, but after her harsh, but just words, Matthew doubted it.

Matthew nearly mucked the whole thing up, twice. The first was when he almost launched into a rant about the stupidity of electing someone as stupid and young as Larry Grey to congress. But then he remembered that insulting Sybil's fiancé would likely be frowned upon.

The second time was when he was moments away from ordering rabbit stew as his main dish. Luckily, he saw Mary's handbag twitch just in time and remembered Daisy. He was positive that eating a rabbit in front of Mary's pet bunny would bad form. He smoothly ordered a steak instead.

When the meal was over, he helped Mary up from her chair and offered her his arm. He hadn't noticed a photographer yet, but he supposed they were likely very sneaky.

She took it with a smile, leaning on him and looking up at him a purely adoring look. They got outside and Mary turned into him, his arm falling from her grasp and curing to wrap around the small of her back. She reached up to put a kiss on his cheek.

Matthew was momentarily shocked by her movement. She felt very nice in his arms, her soft lips on his cheek. He was struck by how thin she was. He wanted to wrap his arms tighter around her and pull her close. He want to kiss her full on the lips. He didn't know where this sudden rush of affection for her came. Maybe it was her smiles and nods throughout dinner. Maybe it was how very beautiful she looked in the sunset. He wondered why she had all of a sudden become so affectionate.

Then he glanced up and noticed the camera from down the street and even a few people were gathered outside the restaurant with iPhones.

This wasn't affection. This was show time.

"Thank you for tonight," she said softly, "It was lovely."

"You were very lovely," He said, letting his voice fill with adoration. It wasn't a lie.

Mary closed her eyes her eyes lightly before looking up at him demurely.

"Will you go on a second date?" Mary asked.

"Without a doubt," He said quickly.

Matthew thought back to his e-mail with Robert- a walk in the park tomorrow, so he quickly and supplied, "Would you like to meet my dog?"

"You have a dog?" Mary asked.

"His name is William. Big golden retriever," He said looking down at her. She was so beautiful as she raised her delicate and expressive eyebrows. "Would you like to take a walk with us tomorrow afternoon? You can even bring Daisy."

Mary gave him a wide smile. It hurt his heart a bit, because he knew it was acting. Not that he cared about making Mary Crawley smile. This whole thing was stupid.

Okay, maybe he did want to make her smile. Matthew felt absolutely befuddled.

"I'd like that very much," Mary said, "Now lets get in the car."

She took is hand and pulled him forward. The chauffer opened the door to her car and they got in.

Mary immediately dropped his hand and her smile. She was a terrific actress.

"Well we survived it," Mary said, with a sigh of relief.

"That last part was very good," Matthew said, not exactly sure if he was referring to Mary's acting or her smile or her beauty or her lips on his cheek or the new feeling that was swirling inside him that he very much wished didn't exist.

"Well, get used to it," Mary said sourly, "We get to do it all again tomorrow."

She crossed her legs and leaned back. She took out her phone and started tapping on it again. Whatever small warmth existed between them before had vanished. It had been only acting. Her icy shield was back up.

They started making their way towards his apartment, the familiar streets of his neighborhood coming into view. He didn't want to end the date like this. Even if it was fake. He felt terrible about the way it started.

The car pulled up to his building and he hesitated. Mary was still absorbed with her phone, not looking up. He thought of what Mary said earlier, all of the fake versions of her circulating in the tabloids.

"For what it's worth," Matthew said, as he opened the door, "I'm looking forward to getting to know the real Mary Crawley."

Sybil was curled up in bed flicking through bridal magazines when she heard Mary return. She poked her head out of the door of her room.

"Hey, how'd it go?" Sybil asked, excitedly.

"I'm not talking about it tonight," Mary snapped.

"But I want to know what happened," Sybil protested.

"No," Mary said, slamming the door to the guest room, "And that's final."

Sybil let out a dramatic groan and stomped back her room.

She pulled out her phone. If Mary wouldn't tell her what happened, she would find out for herself.

It took a total of seven minutes to locate Tom's number. She simply texted Gwen, who was some sort of computer genius and was always able to information in usually legal ways, who sent her the number back as if it was nothing.

Sybil: Hey! It's Sybil Crawley, Matthew's fake girlfriend's sister. Do you remember me? (also hopefully you don't mind I found your number- don't ask how)

She had only flipped one page in the magazine when her phone pinged back.

Tom: So good to hear from you! Of course I remember you. What's up?

Sybil: Do you happen to know about how Mary and Matthew's date went? Mary won't say a thing.

Tom: Bad. Very bad.

Sybil: Oh no!

Tom: Well I suggest he loosen up with a few drinks before it and well- we might have gone a tad too far.

Sybil: No! Dates with Mary Crawley are not something to pre-game.

Tom: Duly noted. Anyway, he knocked over a chair at the restaurant. Then Mary berated him for being drunk. Then he decided it would be prudent to start insulting her.

Sybil: What? Why?

Tom: He was being an idiot. Apparently Mary put him in his place.

Sybil: She would.

Tom: I don't think Matthew knew what he was getting himself into.

Sybil: Mary is icy I suppose.

Tom: No, no, maybe not like that, I think he expected her to be ditzy heiress

Sybil: Then he realized too late that she is brilliant?

Tom: Yeah, he said she was very clever.

Sybil: Yeah, the tabloids like to underplay anything significant she's done other than turning all her heartbreaks into scandals

Tom: So those really aren't true either? Not even close?

Sybil: Now you're catching on.

Tom: What do we do to fix it?

Sybil: I'm not sure what we can do for them, but I do want this to be a success.

Tom: Well, I think they are both far to stubborn to fix it themselves.

Sybil: That's very true. Shall we try our bests to convince them to give it another shot?

Tom: That sound good. You seem to know Mary better than anyone and I can work with Matthew.

Sybil: They are meeting tomorrow? In Central Park?

Tom: Exactly. So whatever we do, we need to do it by then.

Sybil: We can do this! We both care about them too much to watch them fail

Tom: That's the spirit, Syb. Good luck!

Sybil: Thanks! I'll need it! You too.

Tom: Good luck, Syb.

She clicked her phone off and turned back to her magazine. She smiled at a bit thinking of how easy it was to talk to Tom. She liked that she hardly knew him and he was already giving her a nickname. She liked that there was someone who cared about her sister and this plan as much as she did.

As Sybil closed her eyes, she realized that there was only one person who could get through to Mary better than she could. She flicked her phone back on and sent one final text before she fell asleep.

Mary woke up the next morning to an e-mail from her father.

Dear Mary,

I heard from Sybil that your date with Matthew was a disaster. Luckily, the press didn't catch that (see attached article "Tonight Was Lovely: The Inside Scoop on Mary Crawley's Latest Date").

You can't let this happen. I am not paying this man half a billion dollars to be insulted by you. If you want to fix all the damage that was done, you have be all in.

To be honest, Mary, I think this would work best if you tried to get him to fall in love with you. If you spend the whole time faking it you'll both make yourselves miserable. I know you hate this idea, but if you can at least make him enjoy it, you'll make it less painful for the both of you.

As much as you hate it, you need him. And he needs you.

Sincerely,

Robert Crawley, CEO

Hopefully you all can forgive our babies for bringing out the worst in each other on their first date! I'd love to read your reviews! I've had a pretty bad day today- so maybe you're responses will cheer me up :)