Author's note

Hello - wow, it's been a while since this story was updated, sorry about that. Those of you who follow me on Tumblr will know it's been a bit of a strange year for me, but now that I am back at work I hope to get into a more settled writing and posting routine, especially with this fic - we don't have far to go now!

A special hello to my lovely guest reviewer - it was lovely to hear from you recently, and you reminded me to come back to this story, so thank you. :) And I am dedicating this update to one of the sweetest people I know – sybbelle, my fellow Australian S/T shipper – just because she is awesome!

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, and as always I love to hear what you think. :)

Chapter 21 – Father and son

"What time are we meeting them?"

Tom turned to Sybil, watching her as she adjusted her scarf around her neck with trembling fingers. He tipped up her face to his and leaned in to kiss her, keeping their lips pressed together until the bus jerked them apart.

"Sweetheart, don't worry. We're in plenty of time."

She looked up at him with those blue-grey eyes of hers, the eyes through which she couldn't help showing him how she felt. "I'm nervous, Tom. What if it doesn't go well? What if your son hates me? What if..."

He tightened his arm around her and pulled her head down to his shoulder. Stroking her hair, he reassured her. "Sybil, he's going to love you. How could he not? He's my son."

The bus rattled along Upper St towards Highbury Fields, and he kept her close to him for the rest of the journey.

I wonder how he will feel about me?

Tom and Sybil walked hand in hand through the trees on the edge of the park, heading towards the open space in the middle.

The grassy expanse was dotted with families – children playing, dogs running, parents relaxing on picnic blankets with coffees and croissants from the local cafe. Everyone was smiling, turning their faces up to the sky to soak in some rare winter sunshine.

But Tom barely registered them as he strode towards the playground at the far end. Then, his face lit up.

"There she is – that's Bridie. And look... that must be..."

"Oliver," Sybil finished for him.

Tom felt his heart lurch up into his mouth as he found himself staring at a little boy with a thatch of blond hair, wearing a checked shirt under his jacket and kicking a football.

Christ, he's just like me!

The child was so focused on his game, he didn't even notice Tom as he ran after his ball. Cannoning into Tom's legs, the boy looked up, and a clear, blue gaze Tom would have recognised anywhere met his.

"I'm sorry, mister," the boy said, the rich tones of the West of Ireland sounding a little out of place in this little piece of North London.

"That's all right, no harm done," Tom replied, realising that Sybil had fallen back, letting him walk towards his son alone.

Bridie joined them and ruffled Oliver's hair. "Hiya, Tom. Thanks for coming."

"It's nothing, I mean, I wanted to." Tom was uncharacteristically tongue-tied as he waited for her next words.

Bridie dropped down onto her haunches to put herself in the boy's eyeline. "Ollie, I want you to meet someone. This man – well, his name is Tom, and he's your Da."

"My Da?"

"Yes, mo mhac."

Ollie did something quite unexpected for a child so young. He stretched out his right hand and Tom shook it.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ollie. Um... What shall I call you?"

Tom met Bridie's gaze, and she nodded a little. "Well, Ollie – do you think you'd like to call me Da?"

"I suppose I could try it..." The boy seemed unsure. "I never had a Da before."

"I know, Ollie. I never had a son before, either."

The boy looked up at Tom again, and the sight of the frank, open face, so like his own at that age, gave him an unfamiliar ache around his heart.

"Let's just take this bit by bit, shall we? No need to rush. We've got plenty of time."

Ollie frowned at that.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't have plenty of time, Mam told me we have to go home to Ireland today, and I have to get on a plane to go back there." His face lit up. "Have you ever been in a plane... Da?"

Tom found his eyes stinging at those words. As he always did in moments of emotion, he instinctively reached for Sybil's hand, then clenched his fist when he remembered she wasn't beside him. Not yet.

"Yes, Ollie I have. It's grand, isn't it?" Father and son nodded, their first bonding moment.

"Is that a football you have there?"

Ollie's mouth curved into a wide smile. "Yes Da, do you want to play?"

"Sure, let's play."

For a few minutes, Tom kicked the ball back and forth with his little son, who was eager to do well and win his approval. He was encouraging and full of praise, and it wasn't long before Ollie's smile was even wider. Bridie had moved a few steps away as the game began, to give them some room, and she was smiling too at the sight of them.

"That was fun, to play football with my Da," Ollie said, jumping up and down on the spot, hardly able to contain his excitement.

"It was fun to play football with my son, too."

The two shared identical grins.

"Look, Ollie, there is someone I'd like you to meet." Tom looked around and, from her place on a nearby bench, wearing an anxious look on her face, Sybil met his gaze. He nodded and smiled at her.

Are you sure? she mouthed to him.

Tom nodded, beckoning her over. As she approached, he held out his hand, and Sybil took it. Ollie's eyes widened.

"Ollie, I want you to meet Sybil. She's... well, she's the lady I am going to marry."

The sight of his little boy, looking up at Sybil's face in the way he sometimes did himself, showed Tom yet again that this was definitely his child.

"Oh, you're pretty! Hello..."

His words made Sybil blush. "Hi Ollie, it's nice to meet you."

"Hello..." The child seemed uncertain, so Tom repeated the name.

"Sybil? I don't know that name."

She smiled. "I know, Ollie. It's a bit strange, isn't it?"

"Yes. But I like it." The boy was thoughtful. "So, you're getting married to my Da?"

"That's right, I am." Sybil's fingers twined around Tom's and he felt her gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Ollie looked around to find his mother, who was also sitting on a nearby bench. "Mam is getting married too, to a man called John."

"I know – that's great, isn't it?"

Sybil whispered in Tom's ear, and he nodded at her suggestion. "Ollie, would you and your Mam like to come to our wedding? Sybil and I would both like to have you there."

The child looked uncertain, turning around again to look for his mother. Tom then waved her over too.

Bridie walked over to them all, with the same look of uncertainty on her face. "Sybil. Can I just say..."

Sybil shook her head and smiled, still holding Tom's hand. "Bridie, it's OK, me too. Don't even think about it. It's all good."

"Have you met Sybil before, Mam?" Ollie looked up at his mother, then at Sybil.

Bridie nodded. "Yes, just once. But there was a bit of a mix-up. So this is really our first proper time of meeting. Right, Sybil?"

Sybil nodded back to her. "That's right. Nice to meet you properly, Bridie."

"And you. Congratulations to you both, that's brilliant."

"Thanks," Tom chimed in. "We were just saying to Ollie that you should both come to the wedding, if you can."

"When is it?"

"Two weeks' time. We're doing it at the town hall, really small, but we'd really like to have you there."

Bridie shook her head. "Thanks for the invitation – can't do it, unfortunately. But, how about we plan a special visit for Ollie to come and see you? Maybe after Christmas?"

The boy, hearing his own name, looked up, an excited look in his eyes. "Mam, can I? Oh yes, I want to..."

And Ollie and Tom shook hands to settle the deal.

Tom couldn't help staring at Sybil as she lay beneath him – she always took his breath away in intimate moments like these. Biting her lip, hair tangled around her, eyes half closed, she was sexy as hell, his deepest dreams brought to life.

He slid a cushion under her hips and moved his weight further onto her, so that her legs, resting on his shoulders, were pushed back so far towards her she was almost bent in half. With that new angle, he was able to drive even deeper inside her, making her moan aloud in delight.

"You like that, a stór?" he murmured.

"Ohhh, yeah," came the reply.

Holding back, then moving forward – he'd learned how to do that with her, keeping his own release in reserve until he'd given her as much pleasure as he could, making his own orgasms more intense than he'd ever dreamed they could be.

He began to move again, slowly, her core warm and tight around him, and shifted his hips to rub against her clit with every thrust. She wriggled a little beneath him, making the contact between them suddenly electric, and her eyes popped open.

"Oh, Christ, that's..." She lifted herself further up towards him, deepening the pressure even more.

Driving faster, harder now, holding both of her hands above her head with one of his, he pushed them both towards oblivion.

"Come for me, Sybil... God you're so fecking beautiful..."

It wasn't long before she was clawing at his back, letting her head drop to the floor as she came in waves. Pressing his lips to the back of her knee, he closed his eyes as he approached the edge himself.

"Darling..." she said, just as he fell on top of her and gave himself up to pleasure.

For a few minutes Tom and Sybil lay still, entwined in the last of the afternoon sunshine streaming through the living room window, and got their breath back. Then, he pulled his cock out of her and shifted his position to take her in his arms.

She snuggled into his chest as he stroked her hair.

"Tom..."

"Yes?"

"When I saw Oliver... he looks just like you, doesn't he?"

"He does, he's the image of me at that age."

"Do you think..."

A beat. He waited for her to speak again, wanting to find out what was deep in her heart after this momentous day.

She looked up at him, eyes serious.

"Tom, I have to tell you, when I first saw Ollie today... my heart felt strange inside my chest. I felt it twist, I think... Because he's a part of you, because when I looked into his face, I saw you. It made me want to... take care of him, be a part of his life, too."

"Do you think, if we have a child one day..." She paused again. "It's just... he's your first born son. I want you to love him as a father, but it also made me feel a little bit sad, knowing I can never give you your first child."

He tightened his arms around her, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

"My sweetheart... Yeah, Ollie is my son and I do want to love him, be a father to him, as best I can, now I know he is around. But our children – they will be yours too, Sybil. Don't you know how much I want that one day, darling? To have a child with you, or two, or three? I love you so much, so our children will be so special to me, because they will be part of you."

Tears started to her eyes. "I love you, Tom. I can't wait to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you."

"Well, if you meet me at Islington Town Hall in a couple of weeks, you're on."

Sybil winked at him, then tossed her hair over her shoulders. Rolling him onto his back, she settled herself astride him, her breasts rising and falling as she began to move.

"And, in the meantime, let's get in some practice..." Tom said, grabbing hold of her hips.

There was a smell of snow in the air on the night before the wedding. Tom got home after a couple of drinks with Matthew, Gwen, William, Daisy and a few of his football friends at about 10 o'clock, and turned the key in the lock, glad to be inside.

He got ready for bed quickly. When he opened the door to the bedroom he shared with Sybil, he was a bit surprised to see her there, asleep – he had wondered whether she might follow tradition and stay the night with Mary and Matthew.

I might have known she'd ignore that rule – that's one reason I love her so fecking much!

He climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her shoulder. She woke up and, still drowsy, turned around in his embrace to face him.

"Hello, love," she murmured, lifting her lips for another kiss.

"Had a good night?" he replied, once the kiss was done.

"Yeah, it was fun. We went to the Crown – Mary, Edith, Imogen, Anna, a couple of others. I thought I should revisit the scene of our first meeting!"

He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. "I never cease to be grateful Matthew dragged me all the way to North London that night!"

"I know – imagine if we..." She shivered, and he tightened his hold on her.

"Edith might be moving back to London next year – she said things are going really well with her and Anthony Strallan. That's great, isn't it? What with me and Mary getting married, it makes me happy to know she's found someone to love, too."

"Ah ha – what are you saying, Lady Sybil? Are you saying that..." Tom feigned a gasp "you love me? A poor, humble, Irish working class feller like meself?"

"Oi, cheeky," Sybil replied, swatting his arm. "You always were frightfully full of yourself! And as to love... hmmm, let's see. I might love you, just a little, perhaps..."

Her actions belied her words as she pulled his face down to hers for a warm, loving kiss. His fingers stroked her nipples, teasing them to hard peaks, and it was several minutes before he spoke again.

"I've been wondering... something Matthew said tonight about Mary. Are you sure you don't want to be married from Downton Abbey, in the local parish church? If it's what you want, darling, I will do anything. You know that. It's not too late to change your mind..."

"You know I couldn't care less about any of that! With you... it's not important where I am, what I wear. All that matters is that you will be there, and that this time tomorrow we will be husband and wife. That's all. That's it. The rest is detail."

"Oh, my darling..." The rest of Tom's sentence was lost against Sybil's lips. It didn't matter, though – he knew she already understood what he was trying to say.

A/N-

"mo mhac" = "my son", "a stór" = "my darling" in Irish Gaelic, per Google Translate.

Next up, the wedding! Which is the last chapter of this story... I can't believe it's almost over. :(