I hope you’ll like what I did with your prompt that was :
: “It’s Christmas and Tom and Sybil take a special
holiday trip and have various, happy adventures; can be either show era or
modern, it’s up to you.”
I had a lot of fun writing it. It’s been a long time since the lasst thing I wrote so I’m a little bit unsure.Thank you to @skinnycat77 for the beta and @yankeecountess for organizing the secret exchange. Let me know what you think. Reviews are very welcome!
PS / I’m sorry but FF.net is shit and doesn’t wait to take my text as written. Sorry if it makes the reading difficult.
MERRY CHRISTMAS to the Tom/Sybil fandom!
A HOLIDAY TRIP
London, December 24th
It
was the middle of the afternoon and Tom just finished packing the car. He
worriedly looked up to the sky and then frowned. He was sure the snow would
start to fall soon and they needed to hit the road
quickly if they wanted to leave London without too much trouble.
They
have been together for three years now but it was their first Christmas Eve
together alone. As Sybil was working today, they had to decline the usual
invitation to Downton, on the pretext it would be better for them to drive up
there on Christmas morning rather than with thousands of Londoners on the Eve.
Of course, it was just a small lie as Sybil finished her work day at the
hospital at eight in the morning. But she insisted they spend the Eve alone
together and Tom didn’t argue, too happy to escape the long family dinner and
the games with the competitive Mary.
So
the plan was to drive to a small village near Downton (which name was still
unknown to him), spend the Eve together in a small rented cottage then drive to
the big house the next morning. Sybil was in charge so he didn’t have all the
whereabouts but she assured him that the cottage was lovely and warm and less
than an hour drive from Downton. The only thing he had to take care of was the
food and the drive.
He
liked it when she was all mysterious with him and he walked back to the
apartment with the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yes, I can be mysterious too,” he said to himself at the thought
of the small package safely packed in his travel bag.
When Sybil has a huge fight with her boyfriend, Larry Grey, on the morning of her sister’s wedding, it seems that things couldn’t get any worse. But Sybil’s spirits are picked up by a certain Irishman, who is a staff member at the wedding.
I often wondered: first, what would have happened if Cora didn’t have her miscarriage and second, how Sybil started to hang out in the garage with Branson. Here is one of my takes on this with a mix of the two. This is my VERY belated gift for @cassiemortmain’s birthday and VERY, VERY belated gift for @yankeecountess. And as I’m slow writer, I’m posting it for the LSL week. I hope you don’t mind girls. Thank you to @skinnycat77 for the beta. Thank you for reading. And reviewing (maybe, maybe not…)
THE FIRST MURMURS OF LOVE
Downton Abbey, July 1915
“Oh no, no, no… “ Sybil groaned loudly after one of the wheels on the landau refused to turned anymore. She took a look inside to see if the sudden stop woke the baby but he was still soundly asleep so she stepped aside to try and see what was wrong with the wheel. She was gone for more than an hour now and if she wasn’t back soon, her family would for sure send a search party on the estate. After lunch, and after being once again brushed off by her father when she asked questions about the war, she couldn’t stand it anymore. Being in this house with everybody stopping their conversation as she was near, trying to “preserve” her from what was happening in the world because she was the youngest, was slowly driving her mad. So she convinced her mother to let her have a stroll in the park with her little brother, but only after promising to bring him back in time to his nanny for his feeding.
OK, I’m trying so hard to write a sequel to this…But my muse is playing with me. Some cheers would be great. I want so hard to write again about my babies…
fic authors self rec! when you get this, reply with
your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five
other writers. I’ve been tagged by @bleulily. Click on a title to the link.
I haven’t been able to write fics in a while and each
one is very special to me. My choice could be different another day, but here
we go (with no special order) for today:
Drive me away: It’s Sybil wedding day and she has an unexpected visitor. Set after 2×07. I’m not sure what
prompted this one but I remember starting it on a sad day and finishing it
pretty quickly.
Knocking at the wrong
door: Prompt from Cassiemortmain. Knocking at the wrong door. I think the
title is saying it all. Ohhh this one was a lot of fun to write ! I
laughed with myself while writing it. I loved playing with Sybil, Gwen, Thomas
and Tom here. And also, the allusion to FRIENDS was fun.
The haunted house: modern AU / according to Cassiemortmain prompt : Tom/Sybil, accidental
kiss. Also…happy halloween. This one
started with a little prompt and went on…and went on…lol
Come back to me: After the birth of their daughter,
Tom is suddenly arrested at Downton and send back to Ireland. Will they see
each other again? Multi chapters story. This one is particularly close to my
heart. It’s the first multi chapters I wrote and, at this time, my English was
very poor. It’s full of mistakes and imperfections but I like it a lot.
Trapped: Tom is picking Sybil up after her training at York. The story involves
a car’s problem, rain and a cabin. I let you read to discover more but
definitively SMUT. Ahaha, I needed to end this road on memory land with a
smut one (because let’s face it, I wrote a lot of smut fics!). This one is lot
of tension and…the more the tension is high, the more…well, you know.
Happy Birthday Sharon! And thank you for organizing the Sybil/Tom week! I know i didn’t gest to participate as a writer but it was fun to read all the good stuff popping every day on my dash.
This is what I wrote for your prompt. I’m not very proud of it and I feel a little bit rusty but I couldn’t do better. Sorry for that. A big thank you to @zipgoesamillion for the beta.
A very tired Sybil Crawley and Tom Branson entered the little Inn placed on the side of the road. It was already late into the night and they were lucky to have found somewhere to take a little break on their way to Gretna Green. They had first thought they would get there straight away but they soon realized it wouldn’t happen.
A grumpy innkeeper “welcomed” them and Tom asked for a room for his wife and himself with the steadiest voice he could manage so as not to look suspicious.
The innkeeper only nodded and Tom glanced briefly at Sybil who was standing slightly behind him, seeing that she was as uncomfortable as him with their lie.
“What name do I need to register?” asked the man, startling Tom.
Tom opened his mouth, ready to say Branson, when Sybil’s voice sang from behind him.
“Darcy,” she said, taking a step forward and entwining her arm with Tom’s. “Tom and Sybil Darcy, we just got married.”
She tried not to cringe at her choice of name but that was the first one that came to her mind. At her side, Tom stopped to breathe, dreading the man’s reaction.
“I see,” he simply said while shaking his head.
They were clearly not fooling him. He raised an eyebrow.
“Darcy? It’s not very Irish,” he said, nodding his head toward Tom.
Apparently, Tom’s brogue had not passed unseen.
“I’m only Irish by my mam,” Tom heard himself answer. “She married a man from York’.”
Sybil lightly squeezed his arm, showing her appreciation at his prompt answer as the innkeeper was rolling his eyes, clearly not buying it but seeming not to bother with who they really were as long as it was good for his business. He turned the register to Tom for him to sign it (who almost signed his real name before quickly realizing his mistake) while reaching for the key on the board behind him.
“I’ll show you to the room,” he said finally, gesturing to them to follow. “You’re lucky. My best room is available. There’s nothing too nice for newlyweds.”
Tom and Sybil breathed an unsteady “Thank You” and followed the man up the stairs.
It was a short walk and they soon stopped in front of a door that the innkeeper opened before giving Tom the key.
“Here you go. Have a good night.”
Tom thanked him and started to enter the room with Sybil on his heels but the arm of the man promptly stopped their progression.
“It’s bad luck,” he said.
“Excuse me?” asked Tom, looking at Sybil who looked as stunned as him.
“You need to take the girl in your arms to pass the threshold. Or it is bad luck,” confirmed the man.
“Oh,” said Tom. “Yes, you’re right.” He put Sybil’s suitcase on the floor and turned to her. “Sorry Sweetheart, I think I’m exhausted by the excitement of the day.”
He smiled at her and she felt her cheeks redden at his words. But, before she could say anything, she was lifted from the floor and nestled into his arms. She couldn’t contain a light squeal that made him chucked and she, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, slid her arm around his neck. Except when they kissed for the first time earlier in the garage, it was the first time they had been so closed and both their bodies were tingling all over.
With Sybil in his arms, Tom turned to the man who was eyeing them.
“Have a good night and thank you.”
Without waiting for an answer, he pushed the suitcase in front of him with a foot, entered the room and managed to close the door with his foot again while keeping Sybil in his arms. The door closed with a loud noise and they were soon enveloped in silence.
“You can put me down, now,” said Sybil.
“Shhh,” breathed Tom and she raised a surprised eyebrow to him before realizing he was trying to… hear something.
So she kept quiet, not at all bothered by being so close to him and she finally heard the loud steps of their innkeeper who was walking away down the stairs.
“He’s gone,” Tom murmured after a while as a conspirator.
“He is,” confirmed Sybil while trying to move in Tom’s arms to free herself. “So now, maybe you can put…”
“Don’t you dare do it!”” exclaimed Tom while holding her tighter to him to prevent her from reaching the floor.
“Why? Are you planning on sleeping that way? Because, you may find the night very long…”
“You know, we’re not married, yet,” said Tom, not even noticing her remark. “And I don’t want to take any chances. I’m Irish after all and as an Irishman, I’m quite serious about superstitions. So…”
With Sybil still in his arms, he opened the door again and, after checking the hallway to be sure they were alone, he got out and finally put Sybil down.
“There. Now, we have undone the custom. We’re good for the real day. The next time we enter a room with me holding you in my arms will be on our wedding night.”
Sybil blinked at him then threw herself into his arms, reaching for his face before starting to kiss him until they both were out of breath.
“I love you, Mr Darcy,” she said with a big smile, looking into his eyes.
“Yes…about that…” laughed Tom, reaching for her hand.
He pulled her after him and they rushed into the room, hand in hand, the door closing with another loud noise but this time, for the last time until daybreak.
The end
THANK YOU
Mon’Amie!!!!!! You are beautiful and this is a delightful surprise! AHHHHH!!! I have missed your writing, @mimijag
! And thank you @zip-goes-a-million for helping as beta! Have a wonderful time in Monaco! ALL THE HUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(This also goes out to @zip-goes-a-million, who requested “flatmates”. I decided to base this off one of my favorite British comedies, “Spaced”)
Tom was in the midst of locking his bicycle to the fence outside his and Sybil’s flat, when he felt two fingers tap him on the shoulder, and before he even had the chance to look behind him, he heard a jolly, “HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!”
Tom practically jumped out of his skin at the hearty greeting. Mrs. Hughes, their landlady, was standing before him, a big smile on her face and an even bigger box in her hands.
“Mrs. Hughes!” Tom gave the woman a somewhat awkward smile. He glanced around nervously, and then looked at the box she was practically thrusting into his hands. “Um…thank you?”
“Something for your flat,” Mrs. Hughes happily told him. “Sybil mentioned in passing that your old electric kettle had broken, so I took it upon myself to get you this.”
Guilt suddenly filled Tom’s heart. “You didn’t really have to do that…”
“Nonsense!” she patted him on the shoulder. “It’s your anniversary!”
Was it? Tom couldn’t remember what the date was that he and Sybil had agreed to call their “anniversary”.
“Well, one of them,” Mrs. Hughes added with a chuckle. “Oh gracious; Mr. Hughes and I were like that too,” she sighed. “He insisted one date was our anniversary, while I insisted it was another…”
Tom chuckled at her words, although it was a nervous chuckle. Bloody hell, he couldn’t remember what the other anniversary date was she was referring to!
“Well I’m off,” she announced.
“Oh?” Tom asked, trying to be polite despite the nervous confusion rattling his brain.
“Aye, my friend Beryl invited me ages ago to come and see her; thought this would be the perfect time to do it.”
Tom frowned. “Perfect time?”
“Of course!” she blushed then, but leaned in and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Last thing you two want on your anniversary is some ‘pesky landlady’ knocking on your wall to keep things down.”
Tom’s face burned at Mrs. Hughes’ implication. The Scottish landlady waved goodbye then and left him staring after her. He was still in a somewhat shocked stupor when he finally made it up the stairs to his and Sybil’s flat.
“Ah! There you are!” Sybil announced with a smile. She was in the kitchen fixing dinner from the smell of it. “I’m making stew!” she told him. “Something quick before we settle down to watch that new season of House of Cards…” her voice trailed off when she noticed his expression. “Tom? Is everything alright?”
Tom blinked and gave a shake of his head. “Um…yeah, just…” he placed the electric kettle down on the table.
Sybil beamed at the sight. “Oh! You got one?”
He shook his head. “Actually…Mrs. Hughes stopped me just now, while was I locking my bike,” he explained, and then pointed at the kettle. “It’s from her…an ‘anniversary present’.”
Sybil frowned at his words…and then her eyes widened with realization. “Oh no…” she whispered. “She didn’t!”
“Aye, she did,” he confirmed. “And I had the biggest moment of panic, because I honestly couldn’t remember what we had told her!”
Like Tom, Sybil also looked and felt guilty for the lie they had made to their “overly-friendly” landlady. The truth was…Tom and Sybil were not a couple, despite what Mrs. Hughes…and all the other tenants of their building, believed.
Tom and Sybil had actually met one month ago. He was out of a job and she had just left her lying, cheating boyfriend. They ran into each other completely by chance in an overly crowded cafe, and ended up sharing a table together. Tom had noticed Sybil, like himself, was also looking through the various listings for flats. Conversation seemed to naturally pop up between them, and within an hour after meeting, they were both laughing and speaking to one another as if they were lifelong friends. For several days, they met at the cafe, sharing a table together, even if the place wasn’t crowded, looking through the listings, but also chatting about anything and everything.
Then…one day, they both finally found what they quickly dubbed to be “the perfect 2-bedroom flat”. Only there was one exception…
PROFESSIONAL COUPLE ONLY.
The flat was ONLY going to be let for couples. And neither of them had a partner.
Except…
It had been Sybil’s idea, but Tom quickly went along with it. They would “pose” as a couple, pretend to be “together” in order to win over their perspective landlady and thus win the flat of their dreams! They spent an entire afternoon learning all the nitty-gritty details about their lives so if questioned, they could answer as if they had been dating for ages! Sometimes, Tom thought to himself, he forgot that he and Sybil weren’t a couple.
…Alright they didn’t kiss or…share a bed…but…they did seem to be well-matched in every other way…
“Do you think we should return it?” Sybil asked him, indicating the electric kettle in question. “I mean, we could tell her I had already gotten one–I never meant that she had to get one, herself!”
Tom sighed but shook his head. “There’s no guarantee that she wouldn’t simply get us something else. No, we’ll accept the gift and…I don’t know, get her something in return along with a really nice thank you card.”
Sybil nodded her head in agreement. “I should say something–is she next door?”
Tom shook his head, a mischievous (but also bashful) smile spreading across his face. “She’s apparently spending the evening at a friend’s,” he informed. “Didn’t want to ‘get in our way’, in case we got too loud.”
Sybil frowned. “Too loud? What on earth–? Oh.” Her face flooded with color and Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.
“I suppose were were a bit too convincing last time,” she mumbled sheepishly.
Tom felt his own face heat up as he remembered last Friday, when he had been sitting on the floor in their living room, getting the latest football scores on the telly, while Sybil was jumping up and down on the sofa behind him, the pair of them making unusually loud gasps, moans, and grunts.
“I guess we could cut back on that,” Sybil murmured, to which Tom couldn’t help but cheekily answer back, “Do you want to?”
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and while it had been said in jest, Tom felt his pulse race and certain portions of his body…rise to attention. He coughed and quickly turned away from her. “Um, I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbled. Acold one.
Sybil wordlessly nodded her head and turned back towards her stew, fanning her face as she vigorously stirred…knowing that the heat she was feeling had NOTHING to do with the steam rising from the pot.
Musings of a Yankee Countess 