Look who's back! Thank you all so much for your patience and kindness during this huge transition. I've been in Ireland for a week and a half now and starting to settle in a bit. My schedule is still a little topsy turvy as I get used to my job, but I've definitely been making time for writing. I'm still 5 chapters ahead as usual and starting to near the end (woah). But not to worry there are still many adventures left before the story comes to end. Till then, enjoy this chapter- one of my favorites.

Chapter 13: Phase Thirteen- Overcome

Mary Crawley had never thought she'd ever see Kamal Pamuk again. She also thought that she would never see Tony Fucking Foyle again. But there they were, chatting away in the middle of Atticus's party as if they weren't the very embodiment of walking evil.

She was welling up with anger. She hated them. They had both individually hurt her in huge ways. Seeing them brought the trauma back, waves of it rushing through her body.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to lash out. She wanted step on their toes, punch them in the face. She wanted them to understand what they did to her. She wanted them to suffer as she did. But she couldn't. She couldn't ever make them understand the way their influence destroyed her emotionally, destroyed her publically.

"Mary," Matthew's voice said urgently, "Look here. Look at me."

He ran his hands down her arms in a comforting gesture, before taking her hands. He kissed them gently, his voice soft.

"Mary," He said, "Your hands are shaking. It's okay. Let's leave, darling?"

She wanted to throw up. She wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground. She wanted to stop moving, stop trying. She wanted to faint, to disappear. She wanted escape.

Matthew must have felt her sway, because his rushed over her with fear in his eyes, "Are you dizzy? We can sit down. I can get you water. Just breathe, Mary, start with breathing."

Mary took a sharp inhale and let the room come back into focus. Matthew was right. She needed to calm down.

When her breath was even, she dared another glance over her shoulder. The two men where watching her now, their eyes on her, smirks on their faces. She gulped.

She looked around. Had people noticed them? Had they noticed her looking? Where was her mother? Her sister? Did Rose know they were here? Mary's mind reeled, trying to figure out which potential publicity disaster that could arise from this.

"Let's just get out of here," Matthew suggested.

He was right. It made sense to leave. They could walk out and be in the car in a second, whirling through London streets. They'd be back to the Eaton Square house in less than a half hour. Then, they could get onto the delicious plans that Mary had envisioned for evening.

The thought seemed indulgent. She knew those plans had vanished now, as she was forced to rehash trauma she thought she could escape.

At least home would be safe. She wouldn't have to see them there.

Go home, Mary. Don't make a scene, she thought to herself.

But she wanted to make a scene. The anger was still rippling through her. It couldn't be quelled by simply fleeing. She wanted them to know that what they did wasn't okay. She wanted them to feel embarrassed. She didn't want to cower and run. She wanted to throw it right back in their faces.

So that was what she was going to do.

She took a step towards Matthew, placed her hands on his cheeks, and put a huge kiss full on his lips. She hoped that they saw.

"I'll be right back, then we can go home," Mary said, her voice suddenly strong and sure of herself.

"Mary, wait, no-" Matthew began.

Mary ignored his protests and strode towards the men. She watched as surprised flashed in their eyes. They clearly never thought she was going to walk over. The only thing that flashed in Mary's eyes was fire. She was mad. She wanted them to know.

She squared her shoulders and tossed her hair. Then she began.

"So," Mary said, "I just couldn't help but be interested in this little meeting of the 'We Fucked Over Mary Crawley's Life' club. I was just so curious about what you might be talking about. Kamal, were you telling my friend Tony here about how you sexually assaulted me in an elevator and then hired photographers to capture it, no doubt for your own personal gain? Or were you, Tony, telling Kamal about you lied to me for weeks and then publically ruined my reputation? What you did was inexcusable, both of you. It messed up my life, my reputation. I had to rebuild my life twice because of what you did. I hope and I pray that you never, ever do what you did to me to any other woman."

Mary caught her breath, the words had come out of her as if she had rehearsed them, but in reality, they were rolling off her tongue freely. Around, her people were quieting, intrigued no doubt because of the spectacle. She noticed a few people with their iPhones out. But she didn't care- let them watch.

"But here is the thing," Mary said, "I'm not saying that I'm grateful for what you did, because what you did was disgusting, but I'm grateful that the pain you caused me has silver lining. I've found Matthew now and he is incredible. He cares more about the world than you will ever imagine. More importantly, he cares more about me than you ever possibly could. And you know what? It's damn well time that I have someone in my life who cares about me."

Mary paused for a moment to take in Tony and Kamal's faces. They were awash with mortification.

"I'm going home now with my amazing boyfriend. I hope you have fun fucking yourselves. Good night," She snapped, before turning on her heel.

Around her she heard murmurs of people whispering about what had just happened, but Mary didn't care. She had done what she had been dying to do for months. She grabbed Matthew arm and began tugging him to the door. Now they needed to get out of there before anything else happened. She felt genuinely bad that she made a scene at Atticus's party.

"Sorry," Matthew said, pausing, "One second. I've something to do before we leave."

Matthew turned and walked across the hall back to Kamal and Tony, who were still looking dumbstruck. She was frozen in her spot, as she watched it happen. Then all of sudden, in a quick one-two, Matthew was punching them both right in the face.

Mary let out a little gasp. It was the most un-Matthew Crawley like thing she'd ever seen. It was perfect.

Then Matthew was striding towards her, she was grabbing his hand and then were running out of the hall.

They exploded into the chilly night air. She could hear a moment of silence from within the hall, undoubtedly shocked at Matthew's behavior, before it erupted once again into sound.

"I can't believe I did that," Matthew said.

"Neither can I," Mary agreed, thinking of both herself and him, "Did I really say 'Have fun fucking yourself?' God, I don't think I've ever said anything so unprofessional."

"You were brilliant," Matthew said, "I'm really happy you finally tore them down. They needed to be told off."

"Come on. Let's find the car and get out of here before The Sun shows up," Mary said, scanning the row of black cars to find her driver.

"Do you mind what I did?" Matthew asked, pointing at a familiar looking vehicle.

"It was rather rash," she commented, as she took his hand and began to walk towards the car.

"I realize you probably don't want or need me to defend you like that. It's not the turn of the century. I know you can handle yourself. It's just that- It's just that it's not fair what they did to you. I get so angry about it."

They stepped into the car. Matthew sat right up next to her, his arms wrapping around her. She wrapped her arms back around him. She was shocked by Matthew, but not upset. She didn't mind at all if he wanted to punch the men that had ruined her life.

"You deserve so much good," Matthew told her, "Those men should have never gotten to touch you. They should have never gotten to hurt you."

Somewhere after that, Mary began to cry. Not sobs, but tiny tears glistening in her eyes. She felt a lump of emotion settle in her throat. She had just felt so upset at seeing Tony and Pamuk- then so surprised at her own courage, then shocked at Matthew's. It was a lot to feel in less than five minutes.

The pads of Matthew's thumbs traced under her eyes, catching tears silently.

"You know that you are always safe with me," Matthew whispered, his voice soothing, "You know that you are cherished by me. You know that I am never going to hurt you or let you go."

Mary did know that. She trusted him so thoroughly and adored him so entirely.

"I meant everything I said about you," Mary mumbled, "You were the silver lining of all that pain."

Matthew kissed her forehead.

"And you," He said, "Are the greatest gift my life has been given."

"Sybil, you've been avoiding me and you know it," Tom said.

Tom had finally sequestered Sybil away, after trying to steal her away all week. It was only tonight, after the commotion at Atticus's party had sent the Crawley family scattered. While Atticus and Rose were forced to stay, Sybil and Tom had both darted out not longer after Mary and Matthew made their dramatic exit. Tom was worried about the pair, and so undoubtedly was Sybil. It had made sense for the two of them to jump in the same hired car.

But now, things were more awkward. Just the two of them in the car with a likely 30-minute car ride ahead of them and no escape.

"I'm not avoiding you, Tom," Sybil said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh you aren't? So what? I helped you in DC and then you just didn't talk to me for a month and a half?" Tom shot.

"Oh is that it? Do I owe you now? I'm sorry I didn't realize you were that sort of person Tom," Sybil said.

Her voice was angry now. Tom had seen Sybil joyful, worried, terrified, relieved, and content. But he had never seen her angry till now. It was a strange emotion on someone so typically happy and bubbly. Which meant this was all the more serious.

"What? No! No, that's not what I mean," Tom protested, "I just meant it seemed like we were friends that weekend."

"Well, I had just been mugged and you were literally the only person I knew in the city, who by some insane stroke of luck I happened to tumble into," Sybil shrugged. "It was generous of you to help me. Truly, I'm grateful. But you can't just assume that means we're close friends. Before this last week, we'd literally only seen each other twice."

"We used to text and call each other," Tom pointed out, "Did that mean nothing to you?"

"What did you think they meant?" Sybil asked, "Tom, I'm engaged. Larry is my future. I've got volunteering to do and a wedding to plan."

"So you must have time to answer my texts," Tom offered.

"What if I just don't want to?" Sybil said spitefully.

"And now you've hardly talked to me since we've been here," Tom pointed out.

"So? Is that my job?" Sybil said, her voice tight.

"I just don't see what's changed between us," Tom said.

"That's the problem," Sybil snapped, "There was never anything between us to change."

There was a moment of silence in the car. Tom was frustrated. He and Sybil had seemed like real friends that weekend in DC, but maybe it was only because she was so frightened. Maybe she didn't actually care about him, or want to be his friend.

Regardless, there was something he had to tell her. It had been on his mind for the last month and a half. It was the reason he was so frustrated that she wouldn't reply back to his texts.

"Listen, Sybil, even if you won't be my friend," Tom said, "You must know that there was something really fishy about you getting mugged that day."

"I don't want to hear it," Sybil said.

"You need to. Sybil, when we visited the police office the next day, they asked if they could keep your wallet for a few days to test it for finger prints," Tom began.

"Yeah and they sent it back to me a few days later," Sybil interrupted, "They said there was nothing to report."

"There was nothing to report because there were no finger prints on the wallet," Tom said, "Whoever mugged you didn't even look at your wallet."

"So?" Sybil shrugged.

"Syb, you're smart. Don't do this. Mary's theory was that someone looked at your cards, got spooked, and left the bag. But that didn't happen. They didn't even look at your identity cards," Tom said, "So they must have known who you were."

"That's nuts, Tom," Sybil said, "And who would want to mug a young woman just to scare her?"

"Someone who didn't want you to move to DC?" Tom offered, "Someone who knew where your interview was, someone who knew if you had just a hint of a bad memory you wouldn't look back."

Sybil was silent for a moment and gulped.

"You can't possibly believe that," Sybil said.

"But I can! Have you heard the things that guy has said to you? Discouraging you from your aspirations? Telling you to stay home and not worry about a career?" Tom protested.

"I've known Larry for over a year," Sybil said, "I've only known you a few months. Sorry, but who do you think I'm going to trust?"

"Exactly, you've only known him for year," Tom said, "How can you possibly know?"

Sybil sighed, then softened her demeanor.

"Tom, I know you really care about me," Sybil said, "And if you care about me- you must know that Larry is right for me. I love him. I'm going to marry him. I know that you and I haven't spent a lot of time together, but I know, I was- I don't know. I was a little fragile in DC, so I might have clung to you in a way that might have given you the idea that there was the possibility of something between us."

She bit her lip and gave him an apologetic smile, "Sorry, but there isn't."

"Right," Tom said, stunned, "Sorry, I said anything."

Tom didn't know how she could do it. Larry seemed so wrong for her. It wasn't just that their personalities didn't work- there was something more. There was something menacing about him. He worried about Larry's influence on Sybil's dreams. Sybil was smart. She deserved a future that was more than bits of volunteer work or idleness. Sybil was made to do great things. He didn't want her aspirations to end early.

He felt helpless. He knew he couldn't talk to her about it again. There wasn't anything he could do to make her listen.

As the car rolled up to the curb and let them out, Tom lingered for a moment in the car- letting Sybil get out before him. He watched her walk into the house.

She had been right. He did have feelings for her. He had adored her the moment he saw her in that wedding gown. When she tumbled into his arms in DC, it had seemed like a beautiful miracle. He hadn't minded taking care of her, hanging out with her on the couch like a real couple might.

He couldn't understand what changed between them after that night. He hadn't done anything untoward. He hadn't hurt her or done anything really. The only answer he could suppose was that Sybil had realized that he had feelings for her and decided the best medicine for him was distance.

Forget her, Tom told himself. Forget Larry. Forget the whole thing.

If he kept trying to convince her that Larry was corrupt, he would only make a fool of himself. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't put his heart out there. It wasn't enough.

He watched the light in Sybil's room turn on and then he exited the car. He was happy for his early morning flight the next day. He needed to be gone.

Mary and Matthew put off their plans for that night. They were exhausted and shaking and exhilarated by what had happened at the party. There were no words uttered between them as they made their way to their bedroom and dressed for bed. Mary was grateful that Matthew didn't ask about her previous intentions. It meant that more than ever they were on the same page. They lay in bed that night and held each other tightly. The house was quiet, as everyone was still at the party. So they fell asleep just the two of them in their large, empty house feeling both weak and invincible, both weary and thoroughly together.

Mary woke the next morning to the sounds of house in motion. All the guests were leaving that morning, meaning the house would truly be empty and theirs soon. Mary could hear her mother fussing over travel plans with Sybil and Larry. They would be going to the Berkshires to visit the wedding venue. Mary knew that Tom had left even earlier in the morning for his flight back to New York. Jack and Evelyn, who were both based in Los Angeles, would be flying out later that day. Anna and Giovanni had sadly had to leave just after the match the day before in order to be home in time for work. Duke and Thom had left early in the morning for a holiday in Spain, which Mary was grateful for. As much as she liked the opportunity to extend an olive branch to her ex, she was happy for him to live his own life. Mary was grateful that Matthew somehow had a work meeting in London for the following day, so that could arrange for them an extra day for themselves in the city.

Hearing everyone awake and rearing for the day only made Mary want to stay in bed more. She had a bone-tired exhaustion that she couldn't seem to shake. She assumed it must be from hosting people for over a week now, plus the anxiety of the match and the emotional rollercoaster that was Atticus's party.

She was trying to determine if Matthew was awake (and if she could get away with falling back to sleep), when he whispered, "Are you awake?"

"No," Mary whispered back, snuggling down into arms, which were conveniently around her.

His head tucked into her neck, giving a gentle nuzzle, "Mary, I know you are up."

"Hmm, I'm not, let's sleep longer," she said, burrowing into her boyfriend.

She braced herself for Matthew to argue, but he didn't. He simply kissed her hair and let her drift off.

She dreamt about wandering around in this house as a small child, opening up room after room that she didn't know existed. Everything was dusty in this new space, but as she dusted them they became new again. It was a long and dizzying dream, as rooms continued to unfold in a labyrinth.

It was finally much later, when she awoke to Matthew's lips on her cheek.

"Darling, wake up," He whispered in her ear.

She blinked awake, "Hmm, why?'

"It's late afternoon," Matthew said, "I know you are tired, but I'm starting to worry about you."

"Oh God, I'm sorry," Mary sat up, surprised and glancing frantically at the clock, "I must have been so tired from the past few weeks."

Matthew sat up next to her and ran a soothing hand up and down her arm. "It's okay, Mary. Hosting people is exhausting. As is watching high stakes tennis. As is dealing with your exes. As is your boyfriend punching said exes publically."

"Right, that, I'd nearly forgotten," Mary said, the events of the last day coming back to her, "Well, what's the fall out look like?"

"Mmm," Matthew said, taking his phone from the nightstand, "Let's see. I've been avoiding my phone for hours now."

"Have you really just laid here, watching me sleep?" Mary asked, combing a hand through her hair.

"Would it be terribly creepy?" Matthew asked.

"Hmm, no," Mary decided, "It's probably better than dealing with the tabloid frenzy. Shall we take a peek now? We must face it sometime."

"I suppose," Matthew said wearily.

She watched him turn on his phone. It was instantly inundated with text messages.

"Crikey," Matthew groaned, "From these texts here, it says we're trending on Facebook and Twitter."

Mary grabbed his phone to flick through the tweets:

Really? You'd think Mary's new UN lawyer boy would be a little classier #lawdegreeforwhat?

Mary Crawley is such a mess someone put her out of her misery

Typical Mary Crawley making Atticus Aldridges Party about her #selfishwhore

Mary literally ruined Tony's marriage then yelled in his face. Bitch. #teamtony

When is Mary Crawley going to grow up? She has the maturity of a 13-year old girl #chillplz #doless

"Oh shit," Mary breathed, "This is such a mess. I never should have done that."

"But, no, look, there are some good ones," Matthew said, "See these ones."

Good for Mary Crawley! I think we've all wanted to do that our exes at some point #nojudgement

Let's be honest: we all wish we could be Mary Crawley #damngirl #takenoshit

I'm not sure why I'm more jealous of Mary Crawley: her badassery or her boyfriend

I've watched the video of Matthew punching Tony like 10 times now #fuckmeup

It's official Matthew Crawley is the BEST boyfriend ever #jealous #lawyerup

"Be careful," Mary laughed, "I'm a bit worried about those last few."

"Don't worry darling, I'm quite positive you have no competition," He said lightly, kissing her forehead.

He looked through his phone, "There is, however, an e-mail from your father."

Mary felt a shiver roll through her. She had wondered early on, when her father sent her those Make-Matthew-Fall-In-Love-With-You-Emails, if Matthew was being sent them too. That had been one of the reasons she had been so hesitant to put her heart out there- what if his feelings were disingenuine? She'd ceased to believe that since, as Matthew really seemed to love her. But now she felt that old fear flicker up insider her.

"Does my father e-mail you often?" Mary asked.

"Hmm?" Matthew mused, opening the e-mail, "Not too often. In the beginning, he'd send me instructions about what to expect with you."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Oh nothing terrible, darling," Matthew laughed, which soothed Mary a bit, "Just stuff like 'Meet her at Central Park at this time,' or 'Be prepared to spend the weekend in Paris.' But I honestly haven't heard from him since those first few weeks."

"Oh, I see," Mary said, letting her anxiety seep out.

"Here we go," Matthew began,

"Dear Mr. Crawley,

I am writing, of course, in regards to last night's events. I am very happy about the way that you and Mary have developed into a real relationship. Whoever would have thought that would happen when I set you up together? I'm very grateful that you have become a greater part of the family.

I'm sure you are waiting for me to say that Crawleys act with more decorum and class than the actions you portrayed. That may be true, but that is not what this e-mail is about. I would actually like to say Thank You. I have wanted to give those men a good punch for a while now, so I'm glad you got around to it. I hope your wrist doesn't hurt too badly, but if it does, please let me know and I'll pay all the fees.

Truly, I couldn't have asked for a better man for my Mary. Thank you for exceeding expectations. A small thank you gift should arrive at your New York apartment soon.

Sincerely,

Robert Crawley CEO, Grantham Inc.

"That's sweet of Father," Mary smiled at the email.

"Indeed, he was far more generous than I thought he'd be," Matthew said.

"Look at you," Mary said, kissing his cheek, "You survived your first Crawley scandal like a champ."

"What do you say if I go make us some coffee, you take a shower and get ready, then maybe we'll have a late afternoon picnic?" Matthew suggested.

"Sounds lovely darling," Mary agreed, stretching and then getting out of bed. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Mary listened to Matthew going downstairs, before popping into the en suite. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face looked vaguely puffy. She must have really had an exhausting few weeks if she looked this rough. Maybe a warm shower would help. Mary slipped into the warm water and concurred that it did feel wonderful. As she showered, she tried to think of some sort of publicly thank Matthew. She knew that people were going to be looking for a response from her about the events of the past night. Ignoring the incident would make it look as if she were covering something up. She knew that it would call for some sort of mature, intelligent social media post.

She toweled off and looked at her phone again. Anna had texted her an article that read, "Is Mary Crawley Going to Call It Quits After Matthew Punches Her Ex?" Mary gagged a little. She hated watching the paparazzi start egregious rumors about her relationships, but this particularly irked her. Matthew had been so protective, maybe ridiculously so, but still she hoped that people knew that he was only more dear to her for doing so. She knew what sort of post she needed to make.

As Mary began to blow dry her hair, she looked through the pictures on her phone from the night before. She eventually settled on one that Sybil had taken early in the party (Sybil was always good at iPhone photography), where they were smiling, Matthew's arms around her, both of them looking good dressed in navy. She fiddled with the Instagram filters till she found one that didn't look to juvenile, but also not too serious. She bit her lip, thinking of a caption, before she remembered what Matthew had revealed to her about his favorite film.

Thank you MatthewCrawley for being my superhero #CaptainMatthew #CongratsAtticus

She smiled at her post before finishing her hair, finding a romper to change into, and then heading downstairs where Matthew was waiting with a cappuccino. She too a sip before kissing him, foam still on her lips. Mary assumed that he hadn't seen the Instagram because he didn't mention it. Armed with sunglasses and large hats, they made their way to the food hall at Harrod's where they purchased small savory pies and strawberries and sparkling water and cupcakes. They wandered over to Hyde Park, where they spread out a blanket and their food nearby the Serpentine.

When they were done eating, Mary lay against the blanket looking at the sky. It was a rare sunny day and the sun felt good against her skin.

"Oh Mary," Matthew said, "You didn't have to."

"Didn't have to what?" Mary said, her eyes half closed, feeling sleepy again.

"This post on Instagram," He said, "I just saw it. It means a lot. Thank you."

"Of course," Mary said, her voice drowsy.

"It has a lot of likes already," Matthew said surprised.

"Probably don't read the comments," Mary said.

"Hmm well one says hashtag relationship goals, so that is something," Matthew said, his voice surprised, "But this one says, 'Stars Online says they are breaking up. Don't believe it.' Well that's a surprise to me. Mary, dear, are we planning on breaking up?"

"I'm not really planning on it," Mary said, nearly asleep again, "Ever really."

She could feel Matthew gently brushing a hand through her hair, as she faded into sleep.

She woke a time later, with Matthew's forehead crinkled in worry.

"You're awfully tired, darling," He commented, "Are you sure you are fine?"

"I've a bit of a headache," She said, "But honestly it's all quite ordinary for after large event for me. I usually am a bit worn out."

"If you say so," Matthew said, helping her to her feet.

"I do," Mary said. She combed through her hair, as Matthew folded the picnic blanket. "Now, there is a rather good bar nearby. Shall we stop there for some evening drinks? Then maybe we can finally get to the original plan from last night."

Matthew straightened from where he had been bent over, surprise on his face, "Mary, dearest, we don't have to do that tonight. We have plenty of time. I'm in no hurry."

"Do you not want to?" Mary asked, offering him her hand as they began to walk back.

"I do, I do," Matthew said, his voice vehement, "But after last night- I just thought- I thought things might have brought some memories to the forefront. I want you to have time to work through that before we… uh… revisit other things."

"That's what I thought would happen too," Mary remarked, "All day today, I've been waiting for the memories to wash back over me and pull me under. But actually, I've felt freer than ever. I think what I said last night, your little valiant attempt- I think it made me truly feel that they are my past, the past, and you are my future."

"Wow," He muttered, "That's quite a declaration. Do you mean it? You think things would be okay? You want to do this?"

A tiny bit of Mary was laughing at how a woman with several sex scandals to boot and a man with an Ivy League law degree could only discuss sex in euphemisms, but another bit of her was exhilarated.

"Well, there is only one way to find out," She suggested, giving him an eyebrow wiggle.

"I suppose that's true," Matthew agreed.

"Are you rethinking those drinks now?" She said, laughing. "We can skip right ahead."

"No, lets take our time," Matthew said, "I feel like we should do this slowly. And truly, Mary, we can stop whenever you wish, if it feels uncomfortable."

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her attitude turning serious too.

"Thank you," Mary said, putting a kiss on his shoulder. She wondered if she left lipstick against his white button up shirt.

"You don't have to thank me for being a decent person, Mary," Matthew said, "I'm just so sad that you've been treated so incorrectly by other men."

In the silent moment that followed, he pressed a kiss back into her hair. They were nearly out of the park now.

"Don't be," Mary said, "Like I said, you are my future. And it's starting now, so let's not look back."

They weaved their through the London streets to find the bar that Mary mentioned. It was a fancy cocktail bar, with far too many frilly accents for Mary's taste, but with some of her favorite cocktails in town. After curling up in a corner for an hour, as Mary sipped her way through two Lemon Drop martinis, the two of them discussing how they were dreading going to work.

Then finally, they walked slowly the empty house in Eaton Square. They toed their shoes off at the door. They rounded the steps to Mary's bedroom. They crossed the room, each movement slowing down till they sat in stillness on the side of Mary's bed.

Matthew reached into his pocket to pull out a condom. He twirled it in his hands for a moment before putting it on the nightstand.

"It's okay," Mary said, softly, "I got that covered."

As if Mary Crawley, Queen of Sex Scandals wouldn't be taking birth control. Because god forbid she turned up pregnant, as if she needed nine months of speculation about a Crawley baby splashed across every paper. Mary had little control about which scandals would erupt, but she could at least control that.

Matthew was quiet for a moment, his lips pushed firmly together, as if thinking about something very difficult.

"We should use it though," He said, his voice slow and steady, "It's not about babies actually. It's just… the disease I had last year… it can spread many ways, one of them being through sex. It's supposed to go away in a few months, but they've found cases where it's lasted over a year- so it makes sense to be safe."

"Of course," Mary said, instantly. She wanted Matthew to have a good time and not worry about his disease.

It reminded her that he was just as vulnerable as her. This was a huge step for the both of them, because their past contained so much pain and suffering. They had rebuilt their lives together. So in that way, there was nothing more healing, more declarative of their new found happiness than to come together bodily as well.

"Sorry, this isn't quite romantic pillow talk," Matthew said, clearly embarrassed, "But Mary, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. If you got sick, especially with that disease, if it was my fault- I couldn't come back from that. I understand if you think it's gross and you want to stop here-"

"Shh," Mary said, "Please stop talking and make love to me."

"Are you sure?" Matthew repeated.

"Yes," Mary said, leaning forward to kiss him, "Yes."

Mary had never had anyone make love to her so reverently. Each touch was first a question, her echoing gasp the answer. Each brush of the hand- tangling in her hair, gliding over her hip, caressing her breast- was full of tenderness. Each piece of clothing discarded was a wall, an anxiety that was finally being brushed aside in exchange for sacred intimacy. Each swipe of his fingers- around her nipple, through her folds- was a promise that this time everything would be different. This was the kind of love that didn't hurt you.

"Are you sure?" He repeated again, as she panted, as he lined himself up, the smell of latex wafting through the air, his head lowered to lave her nipples.

"Yes, please," Mary whimpered.

Then each stroke was coaxing them towards perfect, exploding, dizzying bliss.

Later, Mary faded in and out of sleep, her body still trembling.

"Are you sure you feel alright?" Matthew asked.

"I've quite literally never felt better," Mary said, "Now, shh, I'm sleeping."

Matthew kissed her hair lightly.

"Good night."

So there is that. I tend to write more mild/discrete love scenes than play-by-play smut- hopefully you all don't mind. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's one of my absolute favorites.