Lately, due to several factors, I was on a bit of a writing hiatus. Still, I wanted to contribute something to the S/T fandom, so I wrote a series of S/T drabbles. Since now we have a holiday period, this series is centered around our favourite couple's holidays in a hut by the lake :)


By the Lake

"You know what," remarked Tom lazily as they were resting on the grass by the lake, "I never dared to dream… that one day I would be spending holiday with Lady Sybil Crawley as my wife and our child sleeping on the blanket next to us."

"We needed that holiday, didn't we? To take a little rest from Downton and my family; and this holiday isn't that expensive. The hut is hardly luxurious…"

"But cosy and romantic," Tom interrupted his wife and tightened his embrace around her.

"I once imagined you and me by the lake," he continued after a few minutes of delicious silence, "at the beginnings of my chauffeur 'career'… I imagined me saving you from a drowning boat on a lake."

Sybil giggled and nestled herself comfortably on his chest, "You've always been my prince."

But Tom shook his head, "Maybe, but I later decided that I didn't like those imaginings at all."

Sybil's eyes grew wide in an unpleasant surprise.

Tom knew that he needed to explain himself immediately, "Because my princess does not need to be saved."

Sybil's pleased smile was an answer enough. However, to express her feelings even more clearly, she began showering her husband's face with kisses.

Oh, what a blissful rest that was!


A Summer Evening

In the evening, when Saoirse is asleep, they sit together at the porch in front of the hut. The sun is slowly going down, and there is an atmosphere of complete tranquillity in the air.

They sit in silence just as they often do, hand in hand, looking at each other with a content smile.

It's been yet another year since they exchanged their vows.

The sun has now completely retreated from the sky; the moon and the stars begin glimmering on the darkening firmament.

They tighten the pressure on each other's hands. They know that they share an unbreakable bond which will last as long as the sun, the moon and the stars. Even longer.

They finally move, searching for each other. Sybil rests herself comfortably into her husband's arms, and Tom tenderly nuzzles her hair.

The moon shines now brightly at the two intertwined figures. Always together.


A Summer Dance

One day they decide to go to a party at a nearby inn; their landlady has offered to look after Saoirse, and they really long for an evening outing.

When they are dancing on the veranda outside the inn, Sybil thinks about the balls that she attended when she was young. She recalls all the rigid rules and stiff etiquette, and most importantly, all the partners that were so desperate to show her their "leading" skills.

Only after she moved to Dublin did she learn what real dancing is. Real dancing means freedom.

With Tom, then, she's always free.


Summer Rain

It was raining since the early morning on that day. After dinner, the Bransons put Saoirse to sleep and then sat together on the couch in the sitting room. They chat pleasantly for a few minutes, but were suddenly interrupted by Sybil's cough. The young woman also shivered; it was clear that she had caught a nasty cold.

Tom reacted immediately to his wife's ailment. He quickly put a blanket around her and went to the kitchen to make some hot tea.

"Here, love, it's a special Irish tea. Perfect for colds," Tom whispered into his beloved's ear.

"Special Irish tea? Never heard about anything like that."

"Oh, all right. It's simply a drink that my Mam always made for me when I was ill."

"Smells wonderfully, I have to admit. What's in it?"

"Tea, lemon, mead, raspberry juice and," Tom chuckled, "a bit of chocolate"

Sybil momentarily stopped drinking, "What?!"

"How can you otherwise induce a young boy to drink something? It's not much; and besides, this drink tastes surprisingly good," her husband explained.

Thus encouraged, Sybil took a sip out of her cup. It was delicious. She felt a wave of warmth spread around her chilled body.

Suddenly, a loud sneeze broke the silence between them. And it wasn't Sybil who had sneezed.

The young woman in question, though, laughed merrily and announced, "Now, it's time for me to thank you for your care, Doctor Branson, and apply my own treatment."

Tom's curiosity was piqued, "What is it, darling?"

"This," Sybil explained joyfully and kissed him on the cheeks.

"And this," she said as she kissed him on the forehead.

"And this… and this… and this… and… "