A/N: Don't forget! This story is now Rated MATURE. But please do not think that is all it has turned in to. I still love my plot and dialogue and I would never sacrifice that for smut.

Timeline: From Dublin, with love.

Song: Crazy For You - Best Coast

Sybil sighed, throwing down her bag before heading into the kitchen to begin preparing the stove for the dinner she was about to make. She had just attended her third interview at a hospital in the nearby town of Malahide and escaped it being short of only a few pennies for train fair. They would write to her, much like the other two hospitals had, telling her how promising her application looked but quickly rejecting her after hearing her accent and looking at the references she provided. Sybil was not Irish, but this place, the apartment she arrived at every night was home.

Tom, the man she was falling more and more in love with, made sure of it. In kind, she payed him back by perfecting the few dishes she had learned to prepare while back at Downton. She was getting rather good too, though she doubted each step of the recipes Mrs. Patmore had so willingly scribbled down for her before her departure. Tom assured her with a kiss to the temple as she stood at the stove stirring a stew or waiting for a small roast to be done with her hand on her hip resting where her apron was tied snugly around her waist.

"Tom?" She called out, surprised to see a candle lit from inside their bedroom. She followed the light, setting her eyes immediately on her almost-husband sitting on the bed in just his work trousers and an undershirt. He was wearing his glasses and Sybil smiled, remembering the first time she saw him put them on. She was turned on then, expressing nothing but a smile in place of the kisses she wanted to smother him with.

"Hi," she whispered, using the doorjamb, which was still without a proper door, to support her. She leant against it, pressing her hat-covered head into the cold wood. She was sure she would have collapsed had he not been looking at her with such concern.

"What's wrong, love?" He went to stand, placing the papers he was working on on the bed next to where he was sitting. Tom reached out for her, pulling her body into his as he hugged her, and kissed her hairline. She said nothing, provoking Tom to speak again. "I got paid today. I guess that's good timing, right?"

"This isn't funny, Tom." Sybil pushed past him, walking under Tom's arm to sit on the edge of their bed. It wasn't that she wasn't enjoying the warmth he was providing her, but rather that she was afraid that he would always be supporting her in this way and others. She had left Downton to ensure that she could be independent and in love. She had conquered love rather easily but her financial independence was something of an Achilles heel. Tom's job did not offer a constant wage, something that both shocked and saddened her. He worked awfully hard to receive inconsistent pay every other week or so. They had not received income for the past two weeks and as a result had eaten almost every meal at Tom's parents house with their heads hung low in shame.

He was sitting next to her now, grabbing her hand to hold it in his lap. Sybil gave in, wanting nothing more than to collapse against the bed they both rested on. She was tired and every part of her ached. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I just-we need money, Tom."

"They really liked my article and they-" He paused, as if thinking about how to phrase what he wanted to say. Instead, he changed his thought pattern. "Never mind. It's a fair deal and if I finish this next article we'll have more to put away. I'm doing well..." he finished.

Sybil touched a hand to his cheek. "I'm proud of you, love."

Tom moved to kiss the inside of her palm. "Want to go out?"

Sybil brightened, then quickly fell as if she had been defeated. "Tom, we can't, we barely have enough money to-"

"No, I'm serious, Syb...there's plenty of money in the bank right now. And I took some out to buy us dinner anyway. What if we go to the pub and grab a bite and then go dancing?"

"Like a date?"

Tom nodded. "Like a date. Our first date, if I do remember correctly."

"I'd be fine staying here...with you."

Now it was Tom's turn to smile. "Yeah, but my mom is getting awfully upset with you falling asleep here so much. I promised her I'd have you home tonight. Just a few drinks. It'll calm you down."

"But you don't even drink."

"All Irishmen drink, Sybil," he commented causing both of them to laugh. "But you're right, I really don't. I don't really have the taste for it. But that doesn't mean it's not something to do. I promise to take care of you...you need a night to enjoy yourself."

"Right…"

Tom lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb. He kissed the corner of her mouth before bringing her to her feet. "C'mon!"

"Tom Branson, you are crazy."

"About you? Yes, I am." A beat and then: "Do you trust me?"

She only nodded, grabbing her bag off the counter where she had set it down. She watched him dress back into his shirt from the day before allowing him to lead her out of their now dark flat.

Tom brought them both to Mulligan's, a favorite of the teenager he used to be. Sybil was right, he didn't drink often, but he used to enjoy a pint the way all of his brothers did, if only to fit in and have something to do after working hours on the farm. The bar itself was crowded, but the back room was dark and quiet. Sybil and Tom pushed into a booth in the corner, giggling as they did so, causing the pitcher of ale Tom was holding to spill over onto the floor and the table.

Sybil had relaxed considerably since they had left their flat. The cool air had invited them down the street as she relayed to Tom all the ills of her day. He listened in only the way that he could and she was reminded of the strength their relationship held because they were friends first and lovers second. There was respect here, seen still as Sybil snuggled into Tom and continued to complain to him about her lack of a job.

"I just feel bad, Tom. We promised to help each other out and I can't find a job. We can't survive on your wages…"

"We'll be fine though, alright? I'm not going to let us starve or lose the flat. We're doing better than you'd think. And we've barely touched your money from your father."

"We can though, you know. I could pay for tonight and-"

"I'm not letting you pay," he said, cutting her off. "That is your money and we should save it for when we're married and you're pregnant and-" He stopped himself, suddenly thinking such wonderful things. "We're fine, alright love? Plus, this is our first date. I invited you out so I am paying."

"So much for women's rights," she quipped. This earned Sybil a smattering of kisses up and down the side of her face as Tom pulled her close. She laughed into him, knowing that this was the end of her apology. He didn't need her words; their love was enough.

Tom poured the last of the pitcher equally into their glasses. Sybil's laugh, the same one he loved so much, had grown more hoarse and if possible, had also gained a considerable amount of volume. It was no concern to him as the pub itself had grown even more crowded after they received and finished their dinners. Now, the two sat laughing about the people at Tom's office and an incident they had had at the farmer's market the past weekend when Tom was first showing Sybil how to purchase groceries properly.

It was easy like this, lost in a crowd where she was not English and he was not the same man that used to drive her around in her father's car. They didn't have to explain themselves here and the thought was both comforting and exhilarating. It was this same thought that had pushed them onto the wooden dance floor with the encouragement still left over from the alcohol they had just consumed.

As they continued to dance, Tom stopped drinking, ordering himself cider while Sybil insisted on another shot of whiskey. He had never seen her like this, so free and inhibited, but he welcomed her mood as he saw how playful she was after a few drinks. He was glad that she had finally let go, and he was sure that she would not feel or remember much of this in the morning.

"Please tell me you don't think me a lush," she said, whispering into Tom's ear.

He pulled his head away from her, smiling the question away. "Never."

"I must look awfully silly." She was giggling again, a habit he had found she picked up when her mind was hazed over by the perfect mix of Bushmills and O'Haras.

Tom had no answer. Her lips were swollen, but not from the kisses they shared. They were red too, matching the shade she wore on her cheeks. She smiled more and it made him smile back, pulling her into him as she nuzzled her head into his shoulder.

They danced until the pub almost cleared, with nothing but a few elderly locals still sitting at the bar. The smoke previously in the air had cleared, matching the air outside as they left the establishment and headed for Tom's parent's home.

On the way, Tom grabbed for the small box hiding in his back pocket. Sybil looked at it through her glossy eyes, sure that even if she was sober she would have not recognized its contents familiar contents.

"Give it here," she ordered, grabbing the pack of cigarettes and the sleeve of matches Tom was holding.

He sighed, handing it over. What happened next, however, took him completely by surprise. Sybil retrieved a fag from the pack and then lit the cigarette she had immediately placed between her lips. She breathed in deeply as the match took, causing smoke to fill her mouth and lungs. Tom could only stare, thinking to himself how sexy it was that this girl, his girl, was smoking a cigarette.

She pulled the stick from between her lips, passing it back to Tom. "Some of the girls in York smoked," she commented. "I never tried it but I wanted to."

"Consensus?" With an arched eyebrow, Tom waited for her answer as he took a hit off the fag.

Sybil smiled. She wasn't walking straight and she knew that. She could feel the uneven cobblestone beneath her feet as Tom tightened the grip around her waist with his free hand. "I think you look much more dashing smoking them…" She was teasing now and Tom was sure he would never make it home.

They said nothing more on the matter. When Tom had finished his cigarette he rubbed the ashy paper on the bottom of his boot and then through the bud into the bushes near his mother's house. With his arm still firmly holding Sybil up, he dragged them up the steps toward his parent's apartment. Tom did his best not to make noise as he retrieved the keys from Sybil's handbag. She kissed at his neck, ignoring the mission at hand. Her drunken mind must have forced her to forget to remember that they were now entering his mother's house and that she was anything but decent in this state.

Inside, Tom thanked the fact that he knew the layout of the flat well. He directed Sybil into her temporary bedroom and helped her to sit on the bed. She layed back immediately after lazily getting out of her coat. The light material hit the floor with a silent thud as she snuggled into the pillow behind her head.

"Sybil, you can't sleep like this, love." He closed the armoire on the far side of the room. "Here's your nightgown. I'll go wait in the living room and then help you get settled when you're done, alright?"

Sybil said nothing. Instead, she quickly unbuttoned her blouse and shimmied out of her skirt leaving Tom with no option other than to break his promise and stare. Sitting on her bed in her chemise and stockings, his mouth once again went dry as she removed her chemise, exposing her bare chest before she slipped on the lace nightgown Tom had just handed her.

"Syb…"

It was her turn to be silent. She layed back, stroking the empty space of bed next to her. Tom sat down, unsure of what else to do.

"Love, you need to sleep. Can I get you anything?"

"Take off my stockings please?" She pouted her lip causing Tom to laugh to himself. He wanted to resist, unsure of whether she would have asked him such a thing had she not been so gone. They had not fully been together since the night nearly a week ago and Tom wondered if this was an attempt to transport them back to that place.

He didn't know why, but he was unable to think better of it. He removed her stockings, causing her to purr as he did so. She smiled down at him, watching as his hands caressed her legs in the process. "Syb, we should-"

"I want you, Tom," she whispered, grabbing at the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her.

Tom could only respond by kissing her back with as much enthusiasm as she had offered him. He could feel her beneath him, her hard nipples rubbing at the thin shirt he wore through the lace of her nightgown. He was growing hard and he was sure she could feel him too. Not here, he thought, and definitely not like this.

"Sybil, we have to stop." His mind was fuzzy even with his buzz subsiding. "Do you want some water, Syb?"

She nodded. She couldn't be angry; Sybil had little room for any emotion other than bliss. She was smiling when he left the room as she reached for the blanket at the bottom of the bed and pulled it up over her curled form. She closed her eyes, allowing Tom to slowly shut the door behind him as he walked into the kitchen.

"Where were you two?"

Tom stopped, turning to face his mother in her robe standing at the door leading up to the second floor. "We-"

"Tommy, you really need to stop with all of this. I let her stay here because I am sure her family would not be too pleased with her living with you before the lot of you were married but she's barely here anymore. I like Sybil, I do, but you need to understand that you're both young. I know you've known each other for quite some time but I advise you to take it all slow. Just because you're away from the place now doesn't mean you have to jump into all of this."

"Mom, we-"

"And babies are expensive. Figure each other out and figure out the finances and the flat. The wedding is this Saturday...feel free to wreak as much havoc as you'd like when it's all over."

Tom looked up from the floor. "You're right."

"I don't want to be right. I just don't want you taking advantage of that girl. And I don't want this to be over before it's even started. And I know you'll say I wasn't there and you'd be right about that but I do remember what it's like to be your age. I was in love once."

Tom wanted to ask her about the tense of her words. He had always thought his mother was still in love with his father and he wondered if this was a typical thing, to love someone someday and then not the next. He was sure, however, that he would never stop loving Sybil, not even if she ever stopped loving him. The latter was quickly discarded for being so unlikely.

"I'm going to leave soon," he offered. "I just need to give her this water...do you have any aspirin?"

Helen sighed, crossing her arms. "Tom...you didn't." She was stern now, fighting the innate feeling of concern bubbling in her stomach.

"We only went to Mulligan's for a few drinks. We shared a pint," he lied. "She never drank at home." He sighed, his voice suddenly gaining momentum. "She's entitled to a little bit of fun, Mam! And we are adults!"

Helen could only nod. "There's aspirin in the pantry." Tom walked to the pantry but was once again stopped by his mother's voice. "Stay with that girl, tonight. You are a stupid boy, Tommy but she loves you and I'd hate for her to get sick alone…"

"Thanks, Ma."

After grabbing two of the water soluble tablets from the pantry, he walked back into the bedroom to find Sybil sleeping soundly. Not wanting to wake her, he quietly rid himself of his vest and shoes but left on his trousers and undershirt out of respect for his mother. Sleeping was uncomfortable, but when he awoke the next morning, Sybil was nestled into his side, staring up at him so she could watch him sleep. Her head was resting on Tom's chest, a favorite position of hers, and it rose and fell with each breath he took.

"Morning," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Sybil remarked, earning a kiss to the temple from Tom. She smiled into that, wincing as she suddenly felt pain in her head. "How much did I drink?"

"Enough," he commented. "Do you remember any of it?"

"I remember you bringing me home and then stopping me from shagging you on this bed," she remarked, her cheeks suddenly flushing as she looked down.

"Sybil, I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry? I'm sorry. You must think me a harlot."

Tom could only laugh. "Of course not. And you must know that it was hard for me to say no last night, even in your state."

"Are you teasing?" Sybil quirked an eyebrow.

Tom kissed the corner of her mouth. Sybil closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. Her lips tingled thereafter forcing her to almost forget what it was he was kissing away in the first place. "I'm not teasing, just telling the truth." Tom breathed in deeply, as if gathering courage. "I still want you, Sybil. I'm always wanting you."

I got my LSAT scores back so we're going out to celebrate (even though I'm no longer going to Law School...go me!). Today was supposed to be a day off from the internet but as usual, I haven't been able to stay away for too long. Also, you guys gave me great reviews so I figured I owed you a chapter. Tell me what you think! Thanks, as usual, for taking time to read!

x. Elle