A/N: Terribly sorry for the long wait for an update, thought I ought to though with the new season starting on Sunday. Remember I wrote this before Season 4 aired.

Warning for period typical homophobia, which I do not agree with.

Sebastian had slowly settled into a routine with Thomas following his breakdown some weeks previous. Thomas would offer him supportive smiles whenever he saw Seb looking particularly quiet, and Seb would nod back encouragingly. Although this was intended to reassure Seb, it also had the dual outcome of unsettling him. He had been taught, ever since he was small, that what he was feeling was wrong. He shouldn't feel this. He shouldn't be who he was. He was supposed to take sneaky and inappropriate glances at various nameless housemaids and not go decidedly week at the knees whenever a certain under-butler deigned to smile at him.

It didn't help that Ivy, ever fickle in her affections, had taken to making him regular cups of tea and smiling at him in a way which made him wonder if she needed a tooth pulling out. To complicate the matter even further, Mrs Patmore had started giving him side glances and making sarcastic comments whenever he happened to be in the kitchen-which was increasingly less since Ivy had taken to him. He couldn't avoid the kitchen right now; he had to find Mr Carson to find out who exactly would be attending the dinner next week, even though some of upstairs seemed rightfully unimpressed with entertaining whilst in mourning. Seb wasn't bothered either way, it kept him in the job. As he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, stepping back to let Jimmy and two hall boys out in to the hall, he overheard Mr Patmore say to Ivy in a warning tone:

"He's not a ladies' man! He's not likely to marry anyone, let alone you."

"What do you mean?" Seb rolled his eyes at the naivety of kitchen maids and stepped forward, cringing as Ivy blushed.

"It's true I'm not ready for marriage."

Mrs Patmore smiled at him, "I suppose you had a fiancé who died?" It was like their own private, dangerous, joke now. He didn't like it one bit, especially not that particular euphemism, but he could do little to stop it.

"Wife actually, and yes she passed away," he turned on his heels and went to search fpr Mr Carson elsewhere, swallowing down the bitter memory.

It was several hours later when Mr Barrow found him. Seb didn't even realise he had company at first, his mind concentrated on the engine in front of him.

"Summers," he nearly hit his head on the bonnet.

"Barrow," Seb returned the greeting in kind, wishing he knew why there was a sudden revert to formality.

They stood there, Mr Barrow surveying him critically whilst Sebastian focussed on his feet.

"You were married."

"Yes."

"Why? Were you lying to me? This whole time was it some sort of joke to you?"

"No! It's complicated."

"I have time," He sat on an upturned box obstinately.

Seb inhaled a huge breath and, ignoring his own no smoking rule, lit up. Thomas raised an eyebrow and Sebastian sat opposite him, silent for a few minutes.

"Her name was Ann, she was the daughter of the barman I worked for. After I went to prison but before the war. We used to work the bar together when her father was out cold, having drunk himself to sleep before shift. We were friends and I loved her, but like how I love my sister not a lover. She was beautiful but I couldn't see what the other men in the pub saw. The way they talked about her..." Seb broke off, wondering how to continue, "He father, the man, I worked for, did...terrible... things. Often I would wake in the middle of the night to find her at my door, for I lodged above the bar, crying, bruised. She said I wasn't 'like other men', how right she was, that I actually cared. One night she was worse than before and she came to me and I decided I would take her away and make her alright. The next morning the matter was taken out of my hands."

Seb shuffled in his seat and took a long drag on his cigarette before continuing, "He father Mr Jackson, told me to pack my bags and 'leave his daughter alone', I couldn't just leave her there Thomas. So, once I had a job at another bar, I visited her and took her away and we got married. So she'd be safe, with me. He couldn't touch her if she was away from him and the 'proper' thing to do was to marry her. I wanted to protect her, but I also wanted to achieve what was expected of me. "

He didn't speak for several minutes and Thomas could sympathise, other than to spite William he had taken Daisy to the fair all those years ago to feel 'normal', though, after the war, normal now seemed relative.

"What happened?" Thomas asked, breaking the silence.

"She died, Summer 1914, that's why I was so eager to join up."

"How did she die?" If nothing Thomas was blunt.

"I don't know, she just got sick and... it still hurts," Seb just stared at his feet and silence reigned for a few moments, only broken by the hiss Seb gave when his forgotten cigarette burned his finger.

"It was my fault she died, I'm sure. This disease we have everyone I love dies or leaves. My mother, my brothers, my sister, my father, Nicholas, Ann..."

"We're not diseased, you listen to me, we're us. We maybe 'wrong' but it doesn't affect others just us. It's them who affect us they hate us. We've never done anything to them. We have to stick together."

Seb stared despondently at Thomas, the taller man showing a rare flare of compassion. He seemed resolved that he was to end up alone. He rose and began pacing, backwards and forward.

"Do you want to know why I declined the cottage, Thomas?" He continued without waiting for an answer, "because I can't stand being alone. I like knowing there are people around me. It makes me feel like I'm alive. When I'm alone I think about what happened in" he lowered his voice "in prison, to Annie...in the trenches. I think about it and everything is over, I stop living and I lose myself. It's like I'm back there. In a house like this it's harder to think. I can live, even if it's just for a bit."

He sat down suddenly, his pale face enunciated by the gas lamp on his work bench, "I haven't slept properly in years," tears were running down his face, his exhaustion clear on his face.

"I don't sleep well either, not since I got thrown out especially not since the war and..." Thomas broke off before realising the company he was in, "and Edward died and I've barely slept at all since what happened with Jimmy."

"I don't blame you," Seb said and Thomas sat inquisitively next to him on the bench, "for not sleeping and for Jimmy. I've seen him carry on in the village, he leads everyone on. Half the Girls are smitten with him and all the regular me are desperate to be his friend. He'd have real friends if he weren't so shallow." Seb seemed to catch himself, "Sorry that was..."

"It's okay, I understand, I'm not so taken with him now." They both sighed staring at the floor.

"It's a lonely life I suppose."

"I wouldn't say that. I make friends, eventually."

"You mean Mr Bates?"

"He's not exactly my friend but he's not so bad now..."

"Not so bad now you're of equal if not higher rank than him?" Seb attempted a smile.

"I suppose." Silence reigned in the garage.

"Mrs Patmore knows," Thomas raised an expressive eyebrow, "about me being different."

"She worked me out in less than 6 months."

"It's settled then. She's a witch." They laughed, but not unkindly, more to diffuse the tension than anything.

"She won't tell. She doesn't care as long as it isn't her business."

The dressing gong sounded in the distance and both men rose, dusting invisible dirt off their uniforms. They stared at each other a moment, holding off the second before Thomas became Mr Barrow and left to supervise the meal and Seb became Summers and exited to fetch the Dowager Countess. Slowly, but deliberately Seb leaned forward, conscious of the closed garage door, and kissed Thomas tenderly on the cheek. He looked up at him, even though he was only an inch taller at most, before looking down at his feet.

"Please tell me I read this right..." Thomas caught his chin and kissed Seb in equal fervour on his own cheek, then square on the mouth.

"Seb"

"Thomas." They smiled at each other before Seb stepped back, schooling his expression into the polite mask he wore around others, it shattered when Thomas leant in and kissed him again.

"Come on, we've got to go," Seb watched as Thomas strode out, looking happier than he'd ever seen him, before starting the car.

They weren't perfect but Seb knew it would take all the Clubs, Diamonds and Spades in the kingdom to keep Seb from listening to his heart for once.

A/N: So that's it folks. I was going to continue but I didn't like the way Thomas was characterised in season 4. I thought it was a real step back in his characterisation. Also I'm sorry for the cheese infused ending, it was hard to write.

To all those who have been waiting for this, sorry for it being late.

Please review.

whatkindofnameisvolta

(incidentally all the other chapters are signed by MissGracieKathy, I have since decided to go for a name change.)