Chapter 2 - First (real) date

Sybil got off the tube at Angel and made her way down City Road. She was completely exhausted – she hadn't been home before she headed to the hospital that morning, and things had been frantic all day.

"Where are my damn keys?" she muttered as she headed towards her block of flats. She had to dump her bag on the top step and rummage through it to find them, so by the time she pushed her way in and up the stairs to her front door she wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a cold sauvignon blanc to take the edge off the day.

As the water ran, she remembered she had turned her phone off before she went into surgery and switched it back on – the phone immediately beeped to let her know she had voicemail.

The first message was from Mary "Sybil? Oh my God, you have to call me to tell me about last night!" As she started listening to the next message, she felt a flush rise up her face as an Irish accent came on the line:

"Hey Sybil – it's Tom. Are you doing anything tomorrow night – a few of us are going to a club and I thought you may want to come – I remember you told me you liked to dance? Let me know – cheers."

Images from the previous night rushed into her mind in a wave – as she closed her eyes and sank into her bath, the memories were so intense they were almost physical.

The phone interrupted Sybil's reverie – "Sybil, where are you? Aren't you home yet –" and she got out of the bath to speak with her excited sister. "Where have you been – I've been trying to reach you all day!"

Sybil smiled and sat down on the couch with her glass of wine. Normally she and Mary shared everything about their lives but for some reason she wanted to keep this "thing" with Tom to herself until she had an idea what it was really about. She deflected most of Mary's questions with a laugh but did tell her he'd asked her out for tomorrow night, and promised to give her a call over the weekend.

Sybil spent the rest of the evening with her feet curled up under her, watching the latest David Attenborough documentary, and before long she found herself dozing off. She came back to herself with a start at about 9.30 and decided to go to bed, but before she did she spent a few minutes writing (and rewriting) a "casual" text back to Tom to accept his invitation for Friday night. In the end, she sent:

Sounds like a plan – where shall I meet you?

Within a few minutes her phone beeped:

We're going to the White House in Clapham Park Road – meet us at the King's Head for drinks around 10?

… and suddenly she couldn't wait till tomorrow.

You're on.

Friday night partying was already in full swing as Sybil came into the pub and looked around for Tom. Eventually, she caught a glimpse of dirty blonde hair and gesticulating hands – he was sitting on a bar stool, holding forth to a group of friends. He was getting quite enthusiastic about whatever it was he was talking about, but interrupted himself mid-flow when he saw her and beckoned her over with a smile.

"Everyone – this is Sybil" was her introduction, as Tom made room for her next to him and got her a drink.

Sybil quickly started to feel comfortable in the friendly group as they swapped stories about their week. Secretly, she was glad to see there was quite a mix of ages – she'd been a bit worried on her way there that she'd be older than everyone else, but her worries soon vanished as she sipped on her drink and chatted happily with one of Tom's friends, a pretty red haired girl called Gwen.

Before long, they were laughing their way down the road to the club. As she headed inside, Sybil remembered she hadn't done this for years, since her student days really. Although she didn't recognise the music, the pulsing basslines and flashing lights got into her system and she felt her body starting to move to its own rhythm. She saw Tom looking at her with the same look she had seen the night they met, and somehow, without either of them consciously moving towards the other, they ended up on the small dancefloor together.

They started moving as one as the beat came up through their feet and the club crowd vibrated around them. Surrounded by people, but lost in their own world, their eyes locked in the darkness as they danced. They moved closer together with each step until Tom slipped his arm around her waist and their lips met in a kiss.

The chemistry between them was even more amazing that Sybil had remembered, and she reached up eagerly to wrap her arms around his neck. His tongue teased at her lips seeking entry, and as she granted it an audible groan escaped him and he pulled her even closer. After some time passed – maybe five minutes, maybe half an hour? Sybil wasn't sure – he slowly pulled back from her. In the dim light, she could see his blue eyes were dark with desire and she suspected she looked just the same.

They stayed for another drink, but it wasn't long before they said goodbye to the others and headed out into the winter darkness. There was still snow on the ground and Tom put his arm around Sybil as she skidded on a patch of ice.

The light of a taxi came into view and he flagged it down. "Where to, miss?" Tom joked as they climbed in, remembering she had told him that Titanic was one of her favourite movies.

As Sybil smiled and started to respond "To the stars", he reached for her and pulled her across the taxi seat and into his arms.

They started to kiss again and his fingers slipped under the collar of her shirt to stroke her from her hairline, to her jaw, and down her throat to the hollow above her collarbone, his gentle touch sending shivers down her spine. There was no more need to talk - they both knew where they were headed next.

A/N -

Hope you won't be too strongly reminded of a certain "backpack" scene by this chapter! :) Thanks again to the Yankee Countess for her encouragement, and to de-profundis-url who recently posted the S/T "To the stars" gifset on Tumblr, which gave me the idea for the last paragraph.