Timeline: Autumn in Dublin.

Song: Brand New Colony - Postal Service

Sybil felt it more the more she was in Dublin. Church was warm and inviting, but other places, like the farmer's market on Saturdays and the walks in the park they would sometimes take before dinner at his mother's made Sybil believe that everyone knew who she was and where she was from. It was as if the world was in on a secret Tom and her were not intent on keeping from them. It burned into her in the same way their eyes did, like daggers, peeling back layers and leaving her exposed. Usual of Sybil, she would smile in return, never knowing another way to face a world that was so unkind.

The local harvest festival was a tradition, as Sybil was told. Tom, not one to participate in such traditions invited her, causing Sybil to immediately agree to attend when she saw his face light up. He explained it to her, the animals and the food and how pretty Dublin was at this time of year. She had seen it herself but she was also anxious for him to show her. Sybil often enjoyed seeing things through Tom's eyes, as if the different vantage point proved to be more beautiful because it was allowed by the man she called her best friend and husband.

All day, Sybil had felt uneasy about going. When Katherine met her after work, Sybil found herself feeling even more unsure as Katherine relayed to Sybil that her sister Elizabeth was on the warpath after feuding with her husband. Sybil thought back to the one fight she could recall her and Tom ever having. It was about money, or rather the bank account she didn't know the number to. Sybil forgot the particulars but remembered the way Tom writhed against her as he brought them both to a delicious orgasm. Looking down the pavement not, a blush sweeping across her cheeks, Sybil had drowned out Katherine's discussion of her sister's marriage.

"Right, Sybil? I mean, isn't that what you were saying?"

Sybil looked up and smiled, her features suddenly going blank. "Oh yeah," she said with a smile. "Right."

Katherine waved Elizabeth over as her and Sybil reached the edge of the field where the festival was occurring. Already families littered the grass with children running here and there eating sweets while their parents drank mulled cider on blankets nearby.

"Hi," Elizabeth huffed finally reaching the two. She looked as if she had been crying. She held her handbag on her wrist with a handkerchief folded up in her palm. "Sybil, where is Tom?" There was a bit of hesitation behind her rushed question as if she needed the answer but feared it all the same.

Sybil's response came simply, unsure of what Elizabeth was getting at. "He's at work, Liz-"

"Of course he is…"

For a reason Sybil was unaware of, she took Elizabeth's tone against her brother to be a personal attack against her. She stepped into the eldest Branson sister and breathed in deeply. "He works hard, Liz. Really hard. He's trying to make something of himself-"

"What did you think of my brother's profession when he worked for your father, Sybil?"

Katherine stepped forward. She had quickly realized where this conversation was going and knew, even before it really began, that she would not be happy at the destination once they arrived. Sybil had been polite and respectful since arriving in Dublin, but Katherine knew from what Tom had told her that there was a fire inside this girl and it was often ignited when she was protecting the people and things she loved. "Elizabeth, please, just because you're-"

Elizabeth ignored her sister. She looked away, then back to Sybil. She saw what Sybil was feeling: the glares of women her age taking in this seemingly English girl who had taken Tom away. In a way that only an older sister can, Elizabeth took advantage of their gawking and joined their team. Her rough day and the week she had been having with her own husband only encouraged her behavior. Like Sybil, Elizabeth was strong willed and passionate. Mostly, she cared about her family and she just wanted the whispering to silence. Somehow, it made sense for her to encourage it before than could happen. "Go on, Sybil."

Sybil swallowed. "I thought it was a fine profession. I think every profession is a fine profession, really."

"Then why must he better himself?"

Sybil stepped forward. "No, that's not what I meant-"

"Well let me tell you what I mean. Tom does work hard because Tom has always worked hard. But don't you for a minute think he doesn't do it to impress you and that castle you grew up in. Ever since you arrived he has done nothing but work and be so in love with you. An English girl. Ha!" She said, rather loudly, if Katherine and Sybil were given an opinion on the matter. "He doesn't need to better himself. In case you hadn't noticed, to most of the girls here he is exactly what they want and what they need. So for once in your life can you please forget that your father owns the land you grew up on and probably some of our land here too and remember that you got lucky?"

Katherine stepped in again, separating Sybil and her sister. "Elizabeth, really. That is enough! What is going on? Sybil didn't even-"

"No! They brought John down today. He lost his job! And you wanna know why? Well I'd like to know too. But the English don't give reasons, they just take! Your people have ruined it here! Ruined it!" she emphasized, finally allowing the grief she was holding back to settle.

Sybil looked around, needing to focus on anything but the way tears were forming in Elizabeth's eyes. She wanted to hug the girl, to tell her it would be all right, but her mind heard the way she and Tom talked and she suddenly wasn't so sure it would be. Back at Downton, it always was but Sybil was reminded in this moment and many more like it that the rest of the world wasn't always so safe. "Elizabeth, I am so sorry. I wish I could-"

"I wish I could too, Sybil. So be thankful, alright? Tom does work hard and he loves you and-" She was crying now. "Forget it."

Sybil stared at the ground, never once feeling as ashamed as she was right now. When she looked up, she saw Tom approaching them just as Katherine was ushering Elizabeth away to calm her down.

Reaching his wife, Tom pointed back over his shoulder to where his two sisters were now standing with the rest of the family. "What happened?"

"Oh, Tom…" She wanted to break down, but instead used her husband's chest for comfort. He smelled like ink, a reminder of the work he had that Elizabeth's husband was just deprived of. Sybil didn't hate anyone, but she imagined this place would make her cold before it was done with her and she would hate to go back to Downton as anyone other than the person who left five months ago. "John lost his job."

Tom rubbed at her back. "Love, what's wrong?"

"Your sister hates me," she said, finally looking up at him. Sybil had willed herself not to cry but a pocket of air weighed heavily on her chest and throat making her feel as if she was suffocating all the same.

Tom hugged her again, this time kissing her temple as they pulled away. "She does not hate you, love. John will find another job and Elizabeth will get over herself. She'll most likely bake you something delicious as an apology...she always does," he added with a smirk.

Sybil let out a small laugh. It gave Tom permission he didn't quite need to wrap an arm around her waist and lead her to one of the many food tents.

"Why would he lose his job?" she inquired.

Tom sighed. "Probably more Black and Tans crisis. If they're not taking, they're destroying. We were discussing it at work the other day, I just didn't think it would hit so close to home. England is getting worried with the treaty that with the cost of the war and the loss of the profit here their economy will grow to be unstable. They're buying land to ensure they have a stake in our wealth after we become a free state. They're scared," he mumbled. "Ask your father, they did the same thing after the Boars…"

"Should they be?"

"It's going to take us awhile to recover regardless. I don't understand why they won't just give in. It's been so bloody for both sides. You'd think they'd want a break."

'Okay," Sybil dismissed, no longer wanting to here how the country that had raised her was such a threat to this brand new world she was beginning to feel she belonged in. It was she who needed a break.

Forgetting wars and treaties, Sybil wanted hot cider, something to calm the raging headache she had forgotten about until now. It beat on, emphasizing the other parts of her that ached like her heart and her feet as a pulse ran warmly through her veins.

They were standing in line now with Tom telling Sybil about the day he had had. Sybil urged him on with questions she was all too happy to ask. The first was about a problem she wished he had resolved with his boss and the second came only after he assured her that he had. Sybil told him about the job she had been offered watching a young girl from down the street while the child's parents worked.

"You want to do that?"

"It's money and I so enjoy little Emily's company! Do you mind?"

They moved up in line now. "So you're a governess, basically."

Sybil elbowed him in a rather playful manner. "I hated my governess so I really hope not-"

"Oh yes, why don't you tell us all about your governess!" Sybil and Tom looked behind them, their eyes meeting the eyes of a girl it was clear Tom knew all too well. Sybil had seen her in church before; her family sat two pews over from the Branson's every Sunday. "Tommy, aren't you going to introduce me to your new girl?"

Tom sighed. "Bridget, this is Sybil, my wife-" Sybil wondered what title this girl once held if her own needed to be emphasized. Quickly she was realizing it was Bridget's lack of a title that fueled the conversation forward.

Bridget extended her hand. "Yes, I heard you had gotten married." Sybil had no choice but to accept. As soon as she had done so, she quickly regretted the innate movement. The calculation this girl made were clear and Sybil had no intentions of returning her negativity. Sybil wasn't jealous, but she imagined this girl had the power to bring her there, where Sybil would be a much less pleasant person when someone looked at Tom the way only she dared to.

"And where are you from? London?" The girls Bridget were with laughed making Sybil feel as if she was back playing with the girls Mary used to protect her from at social gatherings. Those girls, if she remembered correctly, were from London.

"Yorkshire, actually," Sybil said rather plainly. Tom tightened the grip he had on her waist causing Sybil to lean further into him. She made a mental note to thank him later for always being her strength when she had none. "How do you and Tom know one another again?"

"The same way all of us know one another. You grow up in a neighborhood and your families are friends...well you know how that whole thing works."

One of the other girls chimed in: "It was always planned that Bridget and Tommy were going to get married someday…"

Sybil ignored them. "No, I don't," she said, answering Bridget's question if only to ignore what the other girls were trying to irritate her with. She smiled, knowing she was appearing to be rather naive. Tom looked over to her, wanting to kiss away the fear that had settled into her cheeks. "I'm from the country. My only friends were my sisters, really," Sybil said with a laugh.

"And that governess you were talking about-" Bridget finished for her. It was clear to Sybil that this girl was never one to let something go. "No need to hide it, kid."

Sybil looked to Tom. She could stop the tears with Elizabeth, but for some reason this was getting to her more than she had expected. Emotion hit her live a wave and suddenly Sybil just wanted to collapse. Or run: a feeling she had not had since she left home. "Well, it's been lovely, but I really must go. Tom, darling, get me a cider, will you? I suddenly need to sit down-"

Tom moved to still her, to stop her from leaving, but she was already off, her feet in a slow trot away from the tents to a safe haven she had not yet discovered.

"Really, Bridget? Was that necessary? You are and always have been so vindictive. I'm glad some things never change."

"An English girl, Tommy? Really? And a 'crat? For you? Don't make me laugh!"

Tom grabbed the two hot ciders he had ordered from the table where the maiden behind the counter had set them down. He set down a crisp bill and a few coins while glaring at Bridget and the girls she stood with. He said nothing, but the look on his face and the pain he was carrying as he brought the drinks back to Sybil was telling.

He found her, a few minutes later on a bench underneath a large oak on the back of the property. She was smiling now, the only thing she could do to distract him from the tears she was wiping away. "I must look a sight! That was silly, I'm sorry-"

Tom handed her the paper cup filled with cider. She sipped at it and he kissed the tip of her nose. Her tears were gone now, but her skin was slick and red, reminding him of a conversation the two of them had had back in England. She had asked him about times like this, if his people, people she wanted to call her own, would accept her. Tom thought and wished they would. A part of him, the more optimistic part had imagined this would all go over smoothly. Yes, she was English and yes, he worked for her father, but not once did those things matter. The garage they used to stand in and the flat they currently resided in didn't judge them for those things. Those places rarely asked questions and passed judgement the way this town had tonight or the way Sybil had assured Tom moments later that Yorkshire most certainly would.

"I'm sorry for all of this. This fair used to be my favorite growing up but I'm starting to think maybe it's cursed-"

"Will John really find another job, Tom? I mean, what if we give him and Elizabeth some of Papa's money…"

Tom sipped at his cider then pulled Sybil further into him. "Love, they'll be fine. I know you don't want to hear it, but this has happened before. With the war over, the title of the land is switching hands as money in London is being exchanged. Somehow the poor are becoming poorer and the rich are-"

"I'm sorry," was all she could manage. She didn't need to hear the truth the understand it. It was clear the moment she stepped off the boat from Liverpool.

"No, I'm sorry. I should have prepared you for this. I didn't know-"

She cut him off with a question her lips itched to ask. "Can I kiss you?"

Tom straightened up, suddenly turning to look at her. "What?" He asked with a smile. Did she really need permission for such an act?

"I just-I don't know. I really wanted to kiss you back there. I've wanted to kiss you since you left for work this morning…"

"Of course you can kiss me, crazy girl. I'm your husband, use me as you please," he said, earning not only a kiss but a laugh from his wife. He deepened it, doing his best not to spill hot cider down the front of her dress. He had meant to comment on it when he first saw her but was distracted by the issue with his sisters. Now, as he took it in, he noticed how different it was, the lines and the patterns. Green, a color that suited her now more than ever. "You look stunning," he remarked with another kiss to the forehead.

"I feel fat," she commented.

Tom's arm was around Sybil's shoulder, holding her close. He looked down to her then out onto the expanse of the field. "Fat? Sybil…"

"I'll be fat soon, I mean. That's why I bought the dress. My skirts aren't going to fit and-"

"Syb?"

"I'm pregnant, Tom."

Without thinking, Tom dropped his cider. His hands now free, he grabbed her face and kissed her lips with all of the love in his body. He couldn't think or feel anything other than the way she responded, fisting at the heavy material of his suit jacket. "You're...oh god, Syb, I'm-" He laughed, kissing her again. They couldn't stop now. They needed the contact almost as much as they needed to escape all of this. "I'm so happy, Syb."

"Really?"

Tom nodded. "Really!" A beat and then: "How far along are you?"

"I don't know, I only put the pieces together this morning."

"This morning?" Tom wondered how such a big conclusion could be drawn in one simple morning.

Sybil nodded, finishing off the last bit of her cider. The liquid in the cup had grown cold anyway. "Before you went to work and you were commenting on how my...my breasts," she managed with a tinge of rosiness to her still innocent cheeks, "seemed larger that usual."

Tom smiled, remembering the morning well. The two had made love multiple times before he was forced to get out of bed and ready himself for work. He had said such a thing, among other things, as he remained inside of her and kissed the back of her neck.

"So you haven't been to a doctor?"

Sybil shook her head. "No, I want you to come with me...if you can get the time off, of course!" She added, not wanting to ever take him away from the work he was growing to love. "But all of the signs are there, Tom. My body has been awfully sensitive lately and I am rather tired. I haven't been sick yet but my appetite is down and I am so very emotional-"

Tom kissed her temple. "You don't say," he teased.

The comment earned him a slap to the chest. "Don't start with me, Tom. I've heard my mother was a witch when she was pregnant with me. I don't want to have to hurt you-"

"Is that threat Mrs. Branson? Besides," Tom said, relaxing against the bench. "Your father is still here so I'd say I'll be fine."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, mister."

Tom could only laugh. A silence settled and Tom wondered why she didn't fill it with questions of the girls they had left behind at the tent. "Pregnant," he breathed out. "You're having my baby."

"I'm having your baby." She was playing with his hand now as it rested lazily over her shoulder. She kissed his knuckles, staring at the ring she had bought for him with the wages she had saved from her time during the war. She remembered how he had gladly accepted the gift, not once stating how most men didn't wear rings, or jewelry of any sort for that matter. Since that day, it rested on his finger, a reminder of the unconventional love they so deeply shared.

Sybil thought back to the day in the library when she first saw him. Now, that boy was a man and that man was her husband. She breathed out, loving the thought and him so much more now that she was carrying his child. It was all real now, and she was ready to welcome a child into the world they had created. A world that existed not in Downton or Dublin but in some place in between. "We're having a baby, Tom."

Thanks for reading! Reviews are greatly appreciated! I am craving feedback, especially as this becomes less and less compliant with canon...

x. Elle