Starting Forever

A/N- This is an AU Sybil/Branson story, it'll start sometime during the first season, but it will not follow the storyline of the show. I hope you like it.

'Sybil?' A voice calls.

Branson immediately pulls his arms away from Sybil, and they both jump backwards, her eyes are wide and fixed on his equally panicked ones, before she steadies her breathing and looks around for the owner of the voice. The gravel parking area is still empty, aside from herself and Branson, but she can hear footsteps and before Sybil can take off Branson's jacket, Mary rounds the corner.

'There you are darling; we'd wondered where you'd gone.' Mary smiles warmly, completely ignoring Branson, who steps back and stands next to the car, trying to calm his heart rate down, because he can't help wondering what would have happened, if Mary hadn't come outside at that moment, but he stops himself, it's foolish to think that she would have kissed him.

'I had a headache,' Sybil replies quickly, and Branson smirks because it's the same excuse he used to get away from the other chauffer's. 'I thought it may clear if I got some air.'

'Oh how awful, how is it now?' Mary steps forward and places a hand on Sybil's arm, only then noticing the green chauffer's jacket around her. 'Why are you wearing Branson's jacket?'

'I got cold and he was kind enough to lend it to me.' Sybil smiles and hopes that Mary can't see the blush rising in her cheeks.

'Oh well are you coming back inside? It's far warmer in there.' Mary asks.

'I rather hoped I could stay out here, it's awfully loud inside and stuffy and it'll only make my head worse, and I'm warm enough out here now, and Branson will keep me company won't you Branson?' Sybil has to force herself to remain calm, hoping that by throwing the conversation over to him for a few seconds, she'll be able to regain a little more control.

'I will milady.' Branson nods politely.

'You know Edward Bingham will be disappointed, he's been looking forward to dancing with you all evening.' Mary eyes her carefully.

'Please apologise to Mr Bingham for me, and explain to Mama.'

'Very well,' Mary reluctantly turns and heads back towards the house. Leaving Sybil and Branson alone once again, neither of them make any effort to move, both unwilling to discuss what just happened.

Sybil in particular is unwilling to dwell on why she feels such a loss, now that his arms aren't surrounding her. It's just another mystery in the feelings that she can't explain, and once again she has to remind herself that he is just a friend.

'Perhaps I will sit in the car.' Sybil turns to him and finds him watching her.

'Very good milady.' Branson nods, they both know why she's suggested it, because it means there will be a distance between them, no more chances for them to break the rules, and get too close, and she can only assume that his sudden polite formality is there to disguise his hurt. She wants to reach out and hug him, tell him she doesn't mean it and of course they shouldn't have to play by her families rulebook, if they want to hold hands, or if she wants him to hold her and keep her warm, that should be acceptable, and yet she knows she cannot. She has to be the one to play by the rules, because she's the one they were given to, and she's too afraid to explore what she may or may not feel for him.

Branson opens the door for her, and offers her his hand to help her up. It's a struggle for Sybil not to meet his eyes as his hand holds hers, especially since she can sense that he's seeking hers out, but she clings firmly to the stubborn side of herself and keeps her eyes on the car.

'Is that more comfortable milady?' Branson asks and this time as she sits down, arranging a blanket over her knees, she does meet his eyes.

'I wouldn't say that,' she blushes as she realises what she'd just said, 'that is, I'm quite comfortable thank you Branson.'

The hours pass at first slowly as both of them struggle with the awkwardness in the air, but that soon floats away as they start talking, ending with a lively discussion on politics, not debating this time because they both stand on the same side of the argument. They become lost in their conversation, her sat in the back and him in the front, twisted in his seat to face her, they almost don't hear her family arrive back, and they'd completely ignored the arrival of the other Chauffer's earlier.

Branson hears them first, Mary and Edith approaching fighting about something, some dance partner that Edith was supposed to of had, but Mary had whisked him away. Sybil and Branson share one last look, her rolling her eyes slightly and offering him a small smile, him smirking in return before jumping out and getting ready to help the Crawley sisters into the car.

'Branson, where on earth did your jacket go? Aren't you freezing?' Edith's shocked voice cuts though the cold air, a look of detached curiosity on her face.

'I'm quite alright milady.' He replies politely.

'Branson was good enough to loan me his jacket, since I was getting cold.' Sybil explains for the second time that night, she knows that she should take it off now, since Mary is holding Sybil's coat, but she can't seem to make herself do it, and so she simply lays her own coat across her lap, pretending to be colder than she really is, and keeps his on. Mary eyes her suspiciously, but says nothing, and before long they are following Lord and Lady Grantham's car back to the house.

'So how was the rest of the party?' Sybil asks hoping to draw attention away from the fact she still has Branson's jacket on.

'Mary danced with every man except poor Matthew, so it's nothing different than the last party, you didn't miss much.' Edith glares at Mary who just shrugs her shoulders.

'I can't possibly be expected to dance with him.' Mary rolls her eyes, 'Honestly I wish people would get it out of their heads that I'll marry him, because I won't.'

'You shouldn't be so harsh on him Mary, he's a good person.' Sybil defends.

'Then you marry him.' Mary snaps and for some reason Sybil's eyes snap to the rear-view mirror, meeting Branson's gaze, she knows that he's paying attention to them.

'That's not going to happen,' Sybil shakes her head, 'I don't think of him that way. Nor will I ever.'

'How can you say that?' Edith questions, 'You're still so young, in a year or two you may find yourself very much inclined to marry someone like Matthew.'

'Well I didn't expect you to be encouraging her, I rather thought you had your sights set on him.'

'No, it's clear that he has no interest in me and besides, Sybil's temperament is far more suited to him than either of us.'

'And what exactly do you mean by that?'

'Well,' Edith smiles smugly, 'for a start Sybil is far kinder than you, she's got a good heart but she knows her own mind, while you'd just fight him on every little thing.'

'And you're suited to nothing more than a nursemaid!' Mary snaps back.

'Please don't argue over something that isn't even taking place, I shan't ever marry Matthew and so there is no reason to fight over the matter.' Sybil tries to calm the tension.

'Well one of us ought to marry him.' Edith replies, 'He is the heir after all.'

'Money and position aren't the only things that matter in a marriage.' Sybil replies.

'Perhaps not, but they are the most important.' Mary replies.

'What a horrible thing to say, you can't mean that Mary.' Sybil replies looking a little hurt.

'Of course I mean it, love is all well and good but that will soon fade away without wealth and position, and besides the three of us won't be allowed to marry a man without wealth or position, preferably both. Trying to find a man that you actually love, who has wealth and position, that's not going to be easy. No you'd do better to find someone you like, someone you can respect.'

'But them sentiment plays a very small role in your life.' Edith replies.

'Honestly sentimentality never got anyone anywhere. You're a romantic Sybil and that's all very well for now, but there will come a time and it'll be soon, when you'll have to grow up, and then you'll realise that love is a perfectly fine thing to want, and it would be lovely to have it, but it's not the most important part of a match.'

'No I can't agree with you Mary, love will always matter a great deal more to me than anything material. I could quite happily live in a small cottage, with no staff and just enough money to live on; if I was married to a man I truly loved.'

'Sybil you can't mean that!' Edith looks at her shocked, 'I agree that love should play a bigger role than Mary seems to believe, but surely you wouldn't cast aside everything for love, your family and friends, your home!'

'If I were truly deeply in love with someone, someone who didn't have wealth or position, then I would hope that my family and friends would understand.'

'That's naivety speaking, I worry about you darling, I think you spend far too much time longing for social equality, that you've forgotten that isn't the world we live in.'

'It will be someday!'

'Perhaps, but not yet.' Mary lightly reprimands her, and effectively ending the conversation, which is just as well because they had just pulled up outside their home. Mary and Edith step down first, as usual since they are the oldest, but Sybil remains in the back of the car, fuming.

'Sybil don't sulk, not everyone is going to agree with your politics.' Mary rolls her eyes, but Sybil still doesn't budge, 'Fine have it your way, but don't blame me if you catch a cold.' Mary warns as she follows the others into the house.

'Are you alright milady?' Branson asks now that they're alone.

'I know I can't expect for them to share the same views as me, but I hate the way they treat me like a child for wanting those things, for wanting to bridge the social gap, because it's not childish!'

'I know it isn't,' he smiles at her, 'wanting change isn't anything to be ashamed of.'

'They won't ever take me seriously though.' Sybil replies with tears burning her eyes.

'They may have to one day,' he replies seriously, his eyes meet hers and they both smiles, 'you'd best go inside before your father sends someone to fetch you.'

'Yes I suppose,' she accepts his hand and allows him to help her down, then she pulls his jacket off and hands it to him, meeting his eyes, 'thank you.'

'You're welcome, I couldn't let you freeze.' He teases.

'Not for the jacket, I mean thank you for the jacket but I meant,' she blushes as she becomes tongue-tied, 'thank you for always respecting my opinions, even when you don't agree with them.'

'I respect you,' he replies, 'so even when you have crazy ideas, I have to respect them.'

'Well that's good to know,' she smiles at him and suddenly feels the overwhelming desire to hug him, but she restrains herself, 'goodnight Branson.'

'Goodnight milady.' He smiles once more before she walks into the house, feeling far happier than she had when they'd pulled up.

A/N- I hope you liked the second chapter, thank you for all my reviews so far, I really appreciate them.