Disclaimer: I'm not even a custodian, my dears, let alone an owner. These characters and their settings are the work of others. I hope I do not offend with my homage.

Lady Sybil was one of the last students to be picked up, chiefly because she had accepted an invitation to luncheon with some faculty members who were friends of Cousin Isabel.

When the time came for her departure, however, she was packed up and ready to go.

"Where to, milady?" It was a female voice asking. Lady Sybil found it odd to be addressed as 'milady' after two months of being 'Nurse Crawley,' but turned automatically to see what maid or staffer was addressing her. The voice sounded familiar. Lady Sybil followed the sound to its origin and saw an amazing spectacle: a slender young lady in a fashionable long grey winter coat, topped by a too large chauffeur's cap and goggles.

Lady Edith laughed at her sister's surprise. "I've come to be your chauffeur back to Downton," she announced. Lady Sybil looked quickly around. Edith was alone.

Sybil smiled at her sister. They embraced. "You can drive all that way?"

"How do you think I got here?"

Lady Sybil was looking at the cap and goggles. "Where did you get those?"

"From Branson. Suits me far better than it ever did him, don't you think?" Edith tilted her head, modeling the new headgear.

"It's very dashing," Lady Sybil agreed. Her mind raced, then her heart sped up to try to catch it. He had gone. She ought to be relieved. She felt a queer churning in her chest, in her stomach. Whatever these tumultuous feelings were, she was pretty sure they weren't relief. 'Why did you leave me, Branson? I told you not to!' Sybil put up a hand to rub her forehead, then pressed her fingers momentarily against her mouth. "Edith, where's Branson?" Even Sybil could hear the alarm in her voice.

"Branson?" Edith asked airily. "Why's he's—"

"I'm here, milady," said a quiet Irish voice. Branson stepped into sight from around the corner where Lady Edith had told him to wait. His head was bare, and he held Lady Edith's hat.

'This was relief,' Lady Sybil thought, as it flooded her at the welcome sight of him.

Lady Edith was frowning at the chauffeur for spoiling her 'joke.' "Just for that, Branson, I'm not giving you your cap back."

"Should I wear yours then, milady?" Branson held the little cloche up, amused. "I don't think it's as becoming to my style of beauty as mine is to yours."

Lady Sybil smiled to see the chauffeur's smile at her sister. He was enviably relaxed, not at all like the stiff professional demeanor he normally sported when in the presence of more than one family member. Lady Sybil had never seen him act like this before, except when they were alone… No, wait, she had seen him like this before.

On a memorable day back in the winter before her London season, she and Gwen had recruited him to drive them to a job interview of Gwen's in Ripon, under the cover of a 'shopping' trip for which Lady Sybil had insisted she needed to be accompanied by a maid. After the muddy adventure with Dragon, they had at last decided to risk trusting the discretion of the chauffeur. He had clowned this way with Gwen, to distract her from the fact that both of them were probably risking their livelihoods if they got caught. Sybil had thought the chauffeur and the redhaired maid had acted like brother and sister.

Lady Sybil contemplated her own sister as she bantered with the chauffeur. The two must have bonded over Lady Edith's driving. They had traded back hats, and Branson had picked up her luggage. The three of them walked out to where he had parked the car. As he strapped her bags onto the back, Lady Edith was telling Sybil about the drive to York and how well she had done.

"Didn't I, Branson?"

"Yes, milady, you did very well." He had finished with the luggage and come up toward the front of the car. He smiled at the two ladies.

"I'm going to drive the first leg, Branson," Lady Edith told him, "and Lady Sybil wants to watch me, so you get in the back." Lady Sybil smiled at the idea of the unorthodox arrangement, and passersby were treated to the entertaining spectacle of a laughing chauffeur playing the part of a sort of automotive Lord of Misrule, getting into the passenger compartment of the limousine, while the two elegant ladies crank started the car, then climbed up to the front bench to drive him.