A/N: I suppose I should say that this chapter was written with YOU in mind. Meaning, it's really just a 'Thank You!' to my readers for being so loyal. Especially to you ladies that always review! You know I appreciate it.

Song: Your Hand in Mine (Goodbye) - Explosions in the Sky

After they had revealed their plans to the family, almost immediately Tom and Sybil began to pack. Even though they had a few months, they were both excited, and it showed as they placed clothing for the warmer months in trunks to be shipped to Dublin before their departure.

Sybil wrote a letter to Katherine, discussing the plans they had made. In return, Katherine wrote her sister-in-law, thanking her for signing their old flat over to her after Katherine married Kevin. Sybil apologized for missing the wedding but was overjoyed to find the youngest Branson girl was already expecting. Katherine assured her that by the time her and Tom arrived back to Dublin, she'd be showing, and Sybil made the younger girl promise to let her buy the child its first gift.

They were leaving tomorrow and almost everything they owned was already back in Dublin or in one of the various boxes and trunks near the door. There wasn't much but it seemed like everything they ever owned, everything their time and money had gone into providing for a happy life, was packed away, to be opened again soon, when they were back at home and ready to finally settle down.

He had been her best friend for nearly ten years now, and her lover for only half that time. Still, it seemed like all the years they had spent waiting for one another had led to this moment. It was love, and a little bit of patience, that allowed good things like this to happen to them, exactly when they were supposed to.

Dinner that night had been surreal, marked most pointedly by Tom happily getting into his usual tuxedo. Sybil commented, asking him if he was suddenly regretting leaving. He chuckled and quickly told her "no" but that instead he was happy this would no longer have to be a nightly routine, and that now it would just be something he did when they returned for a holiday or weekend visit.

Returning upstairs after changing Maddie and Rian for bed, Tom and Sybil locked their door and immediately began to undress. Then, Sybil stopped them, remembering the last of her plans to be completed before they left tomorrow. "Wait!"

Tom looked at her, standing now in nothing but his briefs. He was exhausted. He had been biting his tongue and feigning joviality lately, all for Sybil and their prospects of leaving. It was almost as if he said the wrong thing now, the respect he had slowly begun to receive over the past year or so would diminish and they'd change their minds and never let Sybil leave.

He knew now, just as well as Robert and Cora did, that it wasn't up to them. As they said a few months ago: these were decisions that Sybil made, and in his opinion, she made them quite well.

"What?"

Sybil quickly walked to her armoire, the one they had been sharing for the past few years. Inside, only a few things hung, two of which she had placed there earlier that morning. She retrieved both hangers, and his eyes dropped as he saw what each one held. On one, her old nursing uniform, complete with apron and headscarf. On the other, his old livery, and he wondered where she had gotten it from as he tried to remember where he had left it before leaving for Dublin with her.

Wherever it was, she had found it, and it was clear she had made plans for the both of them using these very outfits. For a moment, as he did his best to stop thinking of her in her old uniform, he wondered if Sybil had to consult anyone else to pull this off. He hoped not; even after years of being together, he still wanted to keep them a secret from the rest of world.

It made him think how their lovemaking had changed. Not for the worse, as he and she had worried, but altered it in a way that met them in years. They knew each other now, and yet they spent almost every night discovering new things and visiting old riddles. Even with children, they had made time to make love, or like the teenagers they missed being, even make out, connecting at the lips as hungry hands met familiar skin atop the day's clothing. Sometimes this meant early morning trysts, or stolen moments in the bathroom while the rest of the house went about their day. But it wasn't a different they regretted or one that even made them miss how things used to be. Even when Sybil once suggested they take her parents up on the offer of a nanny, his initial frustration was soon taken over as she kissed his neck and hinted at what it was she really wanted.

Soon they would have it, privacy and their own home again, and time to continue figuring themselves out.

"Do you want to play around?"

Tom nodded, swallowing quickly as he leaned in to kiss her lips.

Sybil gave in, but quickly pulled away, knowing that teasing him like this would only add to what she had planned. "Put this on," she stated, handing him his old green livery.

Happily, he took it, suddenly feeling the weight of such a uniform as it left her grasp and landed in his hands. Sybil said nothing but instead disappeared into the bathroom to change. When she emerged, it was her turn to gasp, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, giving her an even better look of his body when he stood up to greet her.

"Hi Branson," she managed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She felt a blush tickle her cheeks as she looked to the ground. The way he was staring at her was almost too much to take. Suddenly she was a little girl again, eighteen or nineteen maybe, but still so young. Sybil wondered how she ever did it, allowed him to stare at her like this without letting all the things she felt for him to dribble off her lips onto his.

"Milady," he croaked out, playing along. He was nervous now, as he forget that this was his wife and remembered all the thoughts he used to have about her in this outfit. He had told her some but there was never enough time in the days they spent together to reveal every little adored detail of the outfit she used to wear daily.

Sybil was standing in front of Tom now. It was then that she realized how many layers they had on, and she regretted this, thinking how symbolic it was that it was these outfits that once kept them at a distance. Her fingers toyed with the golden buttons of his jacket. She thanked him for just keeping his undershirt underneath the thick green material. Sybil couldn't imagine undressing him only to find another shirt and tie beneath. "Is this okay?"

He nodded, reaching out to wrap his hand around her neck, with his thumb caressing her earlobe. He leaned in to kiss her, but she smiled and pulled away again. Her smile only brightened when she saw the frustration on his face. "Mr. Branson, that is highly inappropriate…"

"Excuse me, milady," he teased, "but I don't know if I can wait any longer."

"Oh yeah? Well I do believe you'll have to. You did tell me you'd once wait forever."

"Haven't I earned that?"

"Have you?"

Tom stepped into her, placing a hand on her hip. "I believe I have." Wantonly, he leaned in and began to kiss her neck. He was sure he was marking her, but her inability to push him away and continue to play along, told him she didn't care.

Finally, Sybil pushed him away and went to sit on the bed. "Branson, you work here. We can't-"

He joined her on the bed. His hand went to her knee, massaging her skin through her thin cotton dress. Meanwhile, his other hand snuck around to the back of her, untying her apron, causing the straps to fall loose from over her shoulders. "Nobody will know."

"Promise?"

Tom nodded. "Did you lock the door?"

Sybil wasn't sure if this was Branson or Tom talking to her, but she nodded. Hadn't he locked the door?

Tom was kissing Sybil's neck again, pushing her body back toward the mattress below. She gave in, her fingers making quick work of the buttons on his jacket. As the last one came undone, she pushed the lapels apart and wished that Tom had been shirtless underneath. She helped him shrug out of the material as he continued his assault on the sensitive skin behind her ear. "Tell me how long you've wanted me…" he murmured from out behind hungry kisses.

"Too long." She was breathless now too. Even after four, almost five years of marriage, his touch still sent electric shocks up her spine. She was always wanting him, always needing him, and always showing him both things as her fingers searched the skin underneath his undershirt. Dear god, he was so beautiful like this, and Sybil, even in her own modest, had no problem telling him so. "Sexy," she whispered.

Tom pulled away and looked down at her. Her skin was flushed, and the hair once tucked neatly under her headscarf was beginning to come undone. Not yet ready to answer her, he used the confidence she had just given to him, to reach behind her head and untie the cloth headband. A few pins were removed, and then all of them came out, letting the starched white material fall off her head and onto the side of the bed. Sybil giggled, and Tom took this opportunity to throw the cap away.

"I thought you liked my headscarf, Mr. Branson."

Tom nipped at her lips. "I do, milady. Too much, perhaps. But I'm feeling a little underdressed here…"

Tom signaled to his state, just his old livery trousers and his nightshirt. He was hovering above her now, with one arm on either side of her head. She looked up at him with complete trust in her eyes, and he wondered who he was looking back at; the girl he used to love or the woman he was so in love with now.

"Branson, are you insinuating that I am overdressed?" Sybil asked, faking a sort of innocence she wasn't even sure she had when he had first arrived at Downton. She may have been sweet and she may have been young, but she was well read, and she did her best not to be embarrassed by things she was only ignorant to. "Could you-" Her voice broke. "Could you help me with this problem?"

Tom just laughed. Sybil was sure this was her husband now, and she suddenly felt self-conscious that he was so much better at this than she was. After all, this was her idea in the first place.

"Are you sure, milady? Your parents-"

"Tom-"

"Your parents would be so upset to hear you call me that," he said, knowing it wasn't what she was expecting but that it set her off just the same.

To keep her from responding, he kissed her, slowly at first, then with passion. He was practically inhaling her, and she allowed it, knowing that even if she had invited him up to her room during the war, it was unlikely she would have been able to turn him down then.

"Sit up for me, love?"

"Love?" Sybil asked. "Branson, you've never called me that."

"What would you prefer? I do love you…" he muttered, placing a kiss the expanse of skin below her chin before tasting her lips again.

"I think I love you too," Sybil repeated back to him with a smirk across her lips to keep anything else from coming out. She knew what effect this would have on him, and all was confirmed as he cocked an eyebrow and studied her intensely.

"You think?"

"A lady is never sure," she said, giggling before pulling at the back of his neck to bring him closer again. Tom did his best to rid her of her apron. "I have to keep my options open," she teased with another kiss to his lips. "Does that make you want me less, Branson?"

Tom just shook his head. "I know you're lying, so no, I wouldn't say that" he said, rather cockily. His lips moved against hers, but they were not kissing. He just whispered things she wished she didn't have to hear. She knew that they were playing a game, but somehow it was all too real, reminder her of the way they used to be and the games they used to play.

He erased her doubt and quieted her mind, seizing her lips against his as his hands began to undo the buttons on her dress. He was having difficulty, and this made Sybil laugh into his mouth. They pulled away, and she helped him. He let her too, but only because it was sexy to watch her stare up at him with heavy eyes while her fingers made quick work of the dress she was hiding beneath.

"So many fucking buttons," Tom muttered into her neck.

Slyly, Sybil smiled. "Watch your mouth, Branson, my parents are right down the hall…"

"They've never heard us before," he said, causing her eyes to widen at the new levels he had brought their roleplaying to. If she had a backstory, apparently so did he, and it excited them both to finally be able to bring all of their years of dreaming together.

Sybil nodded, her raised eyes and pursed lips practically nodding a simple "touche" before looking to where his gaze fell.

Her dress was rather difficult, and she clearly didn't think this entire thing through. She remembered the first time she wore it and she had to ask one of the girls in York to help her dress. Sybil felt less incompetent when she saw that many of the other women needed help as well, but it was still something she wanted to be able to do on her own.

"Do you want me to-?"

"I got it," she whispered, ushering her arms out of their sleeves. From the waist up, she was in nothing but a lace brassiere, her pink nipples practically pushing through the aqua material. Tom had watched her dress this morning, but there was something about seeing her like this while he was in his old livery that made him miss her visits out to the garage when all of this was concealed. They were both so young and naive then, but he wished he could tell the boy he used to be that waiting would all be worth it. It wasn't as if Tom ever doubted it, or her, but part of him also never thought it could be this good, this blissful and free.

"Take off your shirt, Branson," Sybil ordered, doing her best to sound stern.

He obliged, quickly removing his nightshirt only to throw it to the side. It hit the edge of the bed and then fell down, landing rather gracefully on top of his old chauffeur's jacket. "I thought we agreed it was finally my turn to give the orders, milady…"

Sybil quirked an eyebrow. "And what order would you like to give me, Branson?"

"Scoot back. I want to get you out of this dress."

Sybil smiled and did as he told. It was more of a question, but a part of her liked him talking to her like this, even if it was silly.

Tom didn't think it was silly though; he was just as turned on as she was. He was doing his best to be patient though, shown as he slowly pulled the pooled dress sitting around Sybil's waist, down the length of her legs. His eyes widened as he saw his wife, sitting before him in nothing but a brassiere. "Milady," he somehow managed to choke out, "where are your knickers?"

Sybil bit her lip. "Branson, I never wear knickers under my nursing uniform. Didn't you know?"

He attacked her lips again, silencing the laugh she was expressing at the sight of his face. Tom was truly impressed, and he showed her, his hands already moving down to her center to pleasure her. In the middle of a kiss, he let one finger, then two slide into her, while his thumb tickled her clit. She dropped her mouth open to let out a loud cry.

"Dear god!" Her fingernails dug into the planes of his chest and Tom could only laugh as he felt the pressure there. He was sure she was leaving little scratches as she so often did, but he found her mannerisms to be too new for him to care. He loved bringing her here, even if it meant pain on his part.

"What do you want, Sybil?"

"You," she said, breathlessly. "I want you."

"But-"

"Everyday. Always. I want you," she repeated, giving such words no further thought.

"Marry me?" Tom croaked out as an obvious joke.

Sybil laughed and nodded, kissing his lips again. "Tom-?"

He softened at hearing her use his real name. He reached up to cup her cheek. "You okay?" He removed his hand from down between her legs and rested it calmly on her abdomen. "What's wrong?"

"I'm over this. I just want to make love to my husband now."

He chuckled, then placed a kiss to her fluttering eyelids. "Good, love. Me too."

It was slow, but their lips didn't detach, as she rid him of his pants, and he rid her of her bra. Next came his briefs, and it took everything in Sybil not to lean down and tease Tom the way he had teased her before. With eyes still closed, she reached down, and guided him toward her. He gasped against her lips, and she repeated this action, sighing, as the tip of his cock pushed into her.

They could do this in the dark, and they had, many times. It did not matter where or when they made love, it was always the same, and yet so different, bringing them to new climaxes, leaving them feeling different things each time they came down from equally powerful orgasms. He loved watching her sigh as he entered her, and she loved feeling him caress up and down the length of her naked body, leaving his hand to rest on the curve of her hip. Sometimes that changed, as they each, over the years, managed to find new traits they loved. But they'd return here, and be just as content as if they were discovering each other all over again.

They took their time feeling one another. Tom was slow with the pressure he applied down upon her, and she was slow in rising her hips to meet him. They wanted it to last all night if that was possible, but they were happy when it came to an end, only to welcome their position back at the starting line.

Their lips were less hungry and their hands, more deliberate, as they went for a second, then a third, and then a seventh time that night. Exhaustion kissed their eyes and lulled them into a short slumber, and when the sunlight began to stream in through the window they changed into their sleep clothes and got back into bed to hold one another before their wake up call came in and interrupted the world they were so lost in.

When a housemaid came in to make their bed, they asked if they could do it. Shyly, she smiled, and allowed their odd request. Together, Tom and Sybil made the bed they were sure they wouldn't be seeing for quite some time, and with it, let the memories of the last few years rest there, only to be washed away, room made for new, when the sheets were stripped and the comforter hung after their departure back to Dublin.

One more chapter after this and then this story is complete. This is so crazy to me, and I wish I could hold onto this story forever but alas, I am not Fellowes, and I know when to call it quits, especially when that means doing so out of respect for my characters.

I'm going to post the next (and final) chapter either tomorrow or Tuesday because I want the second chapter of Beautiful Collisions to go up on Wednesday.

Also, someone asked and I figured I'd extend the offer, if anyone was interested: if there was a moment you think I skipped or just wanted me to consider in general, I will write even more "missing moments" one-shots after this is posted and done. Just let me know, because I know I did jump around a bit to get everything I wanted in.

As usual, thank you for reading!

x. Elle