For those of you who love some family fluff between Tom and his mother, here you go!

"Knitting"

A few days later...

Tom looked down at his empty tea cup, patiently waiting for his mother to say something. She was sitting across from him, busily knitting as she always seemed to be; if she wasn't bustling in the kitchen making something, she was knitting. He lifted his eyes to her and took a deep breath. "Well…?"

Margaret Branson's fingers never stopped moving, however she did lift her eyes to look back at her son. "It will change your life, Tommy…"

Despite the serious tone of her voice, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I should hope so, I mean…it's marriage, Mam."

"Aye, but it's not the same as it was for your brothers and sisters; none of them married someone who already had a child."

He knew his mother was just being her usual "cautionary" self, but at the same time, he couldn't help but bristle a little at her words. "I love Suzy as if she were my own, Mam; and if Sybil allows, I'll happily give her my name too and adopt her as my daughter."

Margaret's eyes had gone back to her knitting, but she paused and lifted them once more to meet his…a slow smile spreading across her face. "They're lucky to have you," she murmured, to which Tom blushed deeply. "I mean it, Tommy–from what I've heard from both you and Kieran, this Sybil hasn't had the best of…'luck', shall we say, when it comes to men, and sadly, I don't think there are enough good men out there who have the patience and the heart to do what you're willing to do."

"Mam," he groaned, fixing his mother with a look. "I'm not a saint, and please don't make it sound as if I'm performing some great act of 'charity'; I love Sybil…I love her and I want to marry her if she'll have me, and I love Suzy too. I want to be a family with them."

Margaret gazed at her son. "And what about you?"

Tom's brow furrowed. "Me?"

"Your own children? Are you and Sybil going to have children of your own?"

Tom's face reddened. "I…we'd have to discuss that," he answered. He'd love to have children with Sybil, absolutely, but at the same time, he wouldn't force or push or guilt her to doing something she may not be prepared to do. For six years, Suzy had been Sybil's world, and until recently, Sybil had been raising her daughter all on her own. Even if Sybil was willing to have more children, it still might take time.

"And I told you," he returned his gaze to his mother. "I love Suzy and already think of her as…as my daughter…" there was a catch in his voice as he spoke the words. "So even if she's the only child Sybil and I have, I'll be perfectly happy," and he meant it. He groaned and put the teacup back on the table and rose to his feet, needing to pace. "But this is all mute anyway, because I need to propose to her first."

Margaret looked up at her son, her own eyes filled with pride and emotion. "I must say, Tommy, you were nothing like your brothers–I lost track of the number of girlfriends they've had over the years…more than the number of fingers I have on both hands, that's for certain. But you…you were always so…so 'careful' and 'cautious'; I used to think it was because you were shy, which didn't make much sense since you were quite the little charmer as a boy, but now I think I realize that it was because you realized…that when you gave your heart to someone, you wanted to give it to them completely…and clearly that's what you've done with this Sybil."

"I told you, I love her."

"I know, I know," Margaret chuckled. "Multiple times! And trust me, I believe you! But I am your mother and I do worry–annoyingly so, I know, but I do." She put her knitting down and rose from where she sat, going to her son and putting a hand on his cheek. "But if you're certain this is what you want–that she's what you want–"

"I am…more certain than anything–both of them," he added, because he knew what his mother and Kieran had said was right: this was more than just entering into a marriage, this was taking on the jobs of both husband and father at the same time, and yet Tom couldn't help but feel in some ways, he was already that. He and Sybil and Suzy were already a family…he just wanted to make it "official".

"Then you have my blessing," Margaret murmured, rising up and kissing her son's cheek. "Not that you needed it, of course, but you have it all the same," she chuckled.

Tom grinned and hugged his mother, wrapping his arms around her and picking her up off the ground. Margaret gasped and began pounding her hands on his biceps. "Oi! Enough of that!" He was still chuckling as he put her back down.

"Well, since she's going to be joining this family, I think it's high time we all finally meet her–both of them," Margaret added. "After all, your little Miss Suzy may enjoy playing with her future cousins, so bring the both of them over on Christmas Day."

Tom exhaled at the thought. Taking Sybil and Suzy to see the entire Branson clan was like jumping into the deep end of a swimming pool.

"I was going to propose that morning…"

"Fine," Margaret turned back to fetch her knitting. "Propose to her and then bring them over for Christmas dinner."

Tom winced just slightly. "There's always the possibility I'll be coming by myself."

Margaret shook her head. "Nonsense; she'll say 'yes' to you. I have no doubt about that."

Tom couldn't help but smile at her confidence. His eyes fell to her knitting then as she began to stuff it back into her bag. "What are you working on, anyway?"

"This?" she looked down and grinned. "Kieran told me all about the mad search you had for your little Suzy's mittens."

Tom's eyes widened. "You're…you're knitting Suzy mittens?"

Margaret shook her head. "No, this is a scarf! My present to your Crawley girls; I made one just like it for your Sybil, too."