Thank you for the reviews, folks! I can't tell you how much I appreciate you taking the time to leave them. There are a few points in this chapter where I borrow dialogue from the show and reimagine it.

Tom woke up when he felt the covers rise and the mattress dip behind him. Mary tucked in tight against his back, her hand pushing under his arm to hook around his shoulder as she rested her cheek against him.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

He picked up her hand and kissed it, tucking it into his own. 'It's all right. I shouldn't have dropped it on you like that.'

'How else were you supposed to tell me?'

'I could have been gentler. Explained it better.'

She gave a tiny shake of her head. 'It wouldn't have made any difference. It's just that I can't bear the thought of you going. I can't imagine my life without you in it.'

'I'd still be in your life, Mary. That will never change.'

'But it won't be the same. You'll be thousands of miles away. I will hardly ever see you and when you meet some American girl and sweep her off her feet, you won't give a second thought to me or Downton.'

'That's not likely to happen. At least, not for a long time. And I'll always come back to visit. You're Sybbie's family. I won't be cutting off contact. Can you imagine what Sybbie would say to me if I took her away from her beloved Donk and George permanently?'

Mary hugged him tighter, nodding against his back. 'We're your family too, Tom, not just Sybbie's. No matter what you might think. We all love you too. Mama, Papa, Edith. Me. And George adores his Uncle Tom.'

This time it was Tom nodding. 'I know. And I do love you all too.'

'Then please don't go,' Mary whispered, a small sob escaping her.

Tom turned around and gathered her up in his arms, holding her tight as she cried. Mary clung to him, her tears seeping into the shirt of his pyjamas.

'Shhhh, love, shhhhh,' he soothed, kissing her hair. 'Don't take on so.'

'You can't leave me, Tom,' Mary sobbed. 'You're my friend, my ally, my anchor. If you go, what will I have left?'

'You'll still have plenty of people who love you. I'll get a new agent in to help you run the estate before I go. I won't leave you in the lurch.'

'Well, if you won't stay for me, will you stay for Edith? Without you here as a peacemaker, there's every chance I might kill her. When you read in the paper that I'm on trial for murder, it will be all your fault.'

Tom chuckled, kissing her hair again. 'Mary, be reasonable. You can't blackmail me into staying by threatening to kill your sister if I go.'

'It's not a threat,' she said, miserably. 'It's an inevitability if she and I remain under the same roof without a referee.'

Tom hugged her to him, waiting until she calmed down and the tears stopped. 'I'm not doing this to hurt you, Mary. I've thought about it long and hard, and I really think it's the best thing to do all round.'

'For you, maybe. Not for me. Not for Downton. And are you really sure it's right to take Sybbie from the only family she's ever known?'

Tom tensed. 'Yes, I do. I would never do anything if I didn't think it was in Sybbie's best interests and you know that.'

Mary was silent, sniffing back tears. Tom let go of her, twisting around and reaching into his bedside cabinet for a clean handkerchief. He rolled back and handed it to Mary. 'Here, dry your eyes.'

She took the hankie, mopping her face and blowing her nose. 'I'm sorry I said that. I know Sybbie is your main priority.'

'She is, and that's why I think we have to go now. Sybbie is young enough to adapt quite easily to a new life. If I leave it much longer, she'll be quite the little English lady, with all sorts of ideas about class and status, and it will be too hard for her to adjust to being an Irish girl in America.'

'She'll always be part English, Tom, no matter where you go.'

'I know, but that's not all she is. I think you and the family forget she's got Irish blood too. Even with me and my brogue sitting right there next to you at the dining table.' He sighed. 'I know this will be hard for you. It will be hard for me and Sybbie too. But if I'm going to do it – and I think I must at least try – I have to do it now.'

Mary was quiet, thinking about what he'd said. 'Then I suppose I must paint a smile on my face and pretend to be happy about it.'

'I know you're not happy about it, Mary, but please don't make it any harder for me.'

Mary nodded to herself, obviously making her mind up about something, then she leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss. 'Because it's you and I love you and I want you to be happy, I will do my best to support you, even though the thought of you going is a dagger in my heart.'

Tom pressed his lips tight together, an unreadable expression on his face in the darkness of the room. 'Thank you.'

They lay quietly for a while, just looking at each other in the dim light. Eventually, Mary broke the silence.

'It's a good job they don't have censors reading the mail anymore like they did in the war.'

Tom looked at her, puzzled. 'Why?'

'Well, if you're not going to be here to scratch my itch anymore, I'm going to have to resort to writing you long, filthy letters instead to get my frustrations out.'

That startled a laugh out of Tom. 'Well, all I can say is that I will look forward to getting my mail.'

Mary grinned. 'It's either that or find myself a husband, and stocking up on pen and paper will be so much less bother.'

'Promise me you won't revisit the whole Tony thing, will you? Not after all the trouble you had to go to to get rid of him.'

'Oh, there's no fear of that. I could never go to bed with Tony again. I mean, I wouldn't have anyway after the debacle that was Liverpool, but I definitely can't after my time with you.' Mary paused, a thoughtful look stealing across her face. 'In fact, you're going to be a hard act to follow. I rather think you may have spoiled me for other men.'

Tom stared at her, a series of emotions flitting across his face that Mary couldn't quite fathom. She found herself wishing the bedside lamp was on so she could see him better.

He reached out for her. 'C'mere, Mary.'

Mary wriggled closer to him, her butterflies shaking themselves awake as Tom cupped her face and kissed her, deep and slow. She hooked her leg over his, angling her hips towards him. He reached down, running his hand over her bottom, and drawing her closer.

'Tom,' she murmured, her breath hitching as he dragged his tongue along the side of her neck.

'Hmmm?'

'Please say we can keep our arrangement going until you leave. If I'm going to have to go back to living the life of a nun, I want plenty of memories to keep me going.'

She felt him huff out a small laugh on the sensitive, wet patch of skin on her neck he'd been paying close attention to. He pulled his head back and smiled at her, a curious mixture of arousal and sadness on his face. 'God help me, Mary, I'll give you as many memories as we can possibly make.'

Mary relaxed into his arms, closing her eyes as he tugged her nightgown up and over her head. At least she still had this for a while longer.