Surprise update! This one is for Yankee Countess. For my birthday back in June, she wrote a magnificent start to what I am sure will be a magnificent fic called Scandal on Eaton Square. If you haven't read the first chapter you must. You won't be sorry. Anyway, I was so excited that I offered to return the favor, and she sent me a prompt based on this universe. Here is the result.

One year later

It was a combination of the sound of the shower and the pounding of his head that woke Tom up. He looked around his room, only vaguely remembering how he got there. His clothes from the night before were laid over his chair neatly. On the nightstand there were two aspirin, a glass of water and a steaming cup of coffee.

I love you, Sybil, Tom thought with a smile.

He gingerly pulled himself up and over to the side of the bed. He swallowed the aspirin with a long swig of water. Then, taking the coffee cup, he took a long drink and let out a deep sigh.

"Feeling better?"

He turned and saw his girlfriend freshly showered and dressed, her dark brown hair heavy from the water but starting to curl at the ends. She looked as radiant as the night they'd met in this very apartment three years before. The sight of her brought a smile to his face and cleared the fog of his hangover, at least slightly.

Sybil wasn't exactly happy with him, but she couldn't help but smile back seeing him so cutely tousled and bleary eyed.

"Top 'o the mornin' to ya," she said in her best Irish accent.

He laughed, then immediately regretted it and brought his hand to his forehead.

"It feels like a bomb went off in my head," he said with a groan.

"You were in quite a state—both of you," she said. She was still smiling but he could detect now a measure of humorlessness in her tone.

"Had to be a good stag. He's only going to get married once, right?" Tom said playfully.

"Not if he's hung over for his own wedding," Sybil replied crossing her arms, her irritation now obvious.

Tom sighed, turning back around and taking another drink of coffee.

"He's going to be fine, Syb."

"No thanks to you. I'm the one that got him home and in bed with no help from his best man."

Tom really didn't want to argue. He remembered now that she'd been angry last night, and he remembered hoping she would sleep it off. No such luck. Sensing the fight was going to be a long one, Tom stood and went over to his dresser and pulled on a T-shirt and sweats.

"I thought you were going to spend the night at the hotel with the bride," he said finally.

"That was the plan until you decided to get so bloody pissed, I had to drag you and Matthew back here to make sure you slept it off so you'd be ready for the actual wedding."

"We're grown men, Sybil. We would have managed. It's not like this is the first time we've gone out drinking."

"But it's Mary's wedding day! Do you really think she was going to risk a single detail not being in place?!"

At this, Tom turned to face her. "My darling, I do love you so much, but it's Mary and Matthew's wedding day. More to the point it was Matthew's stag night."

Sybil took a deep breath. "I understand that, but you promised me you'd have him at the hotel at a reasonable hour so we could see you before we were off to bed."

"I made no promises. I merely told you I would do my best."

"Well, your best was a shoddy effort. You got there at nearly midnight! Mary made me bring you home, by the time you were both in bed and passed out, I was too tired to go back."

Tom's shoulders sank. He approached her slowly, but she turned away as he got near. "Sybil, I am genuinely sorry to have ruined your evening, but Matthew wanted to stay out and I wasn't going to tell him no. Your father was out with us and he said your mother told him not to worry. He was the one buying all the fecking whiskey!"

He put his hands on her shoulders and she stiffened at his touch.

Tom dropped his hands and took a deep breath. He was unsure of what to say.

Before he could muster any words, though, Matthew burst in the room and shouted, "Guess who's getting married!"

He stopped short seeing the two standing in close proximity. Laughing, he said, "This seems eerily familiar."

XXX

The first time, in Matthew's room, was sex. It was good and it was fun and it held the promise of more, but it was sex. The second time, in Tom's room, they made love. Their phones had opened a window into the longing that each thought to be suffering alone.

After, as they held each other tightly, Sybil asked, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Well, at first I was with someone, and after that ended, I waited for you to ask me out again, but you didn't. In fact, you always seemed really shy around me and not eager to talk. I assumed you weren't interested and I thought maybe that first night, that conversation had been a fluke. And I'm not too proud to admit I am a bit afraid of Mary."

Sybil laughed. "Everyone is afraid of Mary."

She paused for a moment then went on, "I'm sorry for giving such a false impression. Meeting you, that talk we had . . . I think that was the best conversation I've ever had with anyone. Then she showed up"—Tom laughed at the disdain with which he referred to his ex—"I thought I'd completely misread the entire situation. Since then, I've always second guessed myself when it came to you."

"I suppose I threw out my share of mixed signals, but you can hear me now, yeah?" Tom asked playfully.

Sybil laughed. "Yes!"

They talked until the wee hours of the morning.

When a newly engaged Matthew and Mary returned hoping to share their joy with two of the people they loved most, it was near lunchtime. On seeing Matthew's bed empty and made, they assumed Sybil had already gone home.

Then, a funny series of events happened.

As Mary dug into her handbag to look for her mobile to call her youngest sister, Matthew walked down the hall to Tom's room to waken his flatmate, doing so by opening the door wide and announcing loudly, "Guess who's getting married!"

Matthew was greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Tom and Sybil—he wearing only sweats, she only her knickers and an oversized T-shirt—wrapped in an intimate embrace and snogging like there was no tomorrow. They had just gotten out of bed and had been too wrapped up in themselves to hear anything outside of his room. Matthew laughed out loud, causing them to jump apart. Turning toward the hallway again, Matthew yelled out in a sing-song voice, "Oh, Mary!"

"Hold on, I'm calling Sybil," was her reply.

The trio of Matthew and Tom and Sybil, the latter two holding hands, walked back out into the living room, but Mary was still looking down at her mobile, so she didn't notice that Matthew wasn't alone until Sybil's mobile—still on the floor where she'd dropped it the night before—started ringing, causing Mary's head to jerk up in surprise.

"Hi, sis," Sybil said biting her lower lip.

"I guess congratulations are in order," Tom said as nonchalantly as he could.

The look of shock on Mary's face slowly dissipated. She looked from the new couple to her new fiancé, who was grinning widely.

Mary, too happy herself to react to seeing her sister and Tom with anything else but more happiness, burst out laughing. "Congratulations all around, it seems."

XXX

Tom and Sybil responded to Matthew's exuberance with mirthless smiles, but Matthew's joy was too much for him to notice.

"Going to have brunch with mum. Tom, I'll be back in a couple of hours. Sybil, I'll see you walking down the aisle!"

And just as quickly as he'd burst in, he was gone.

"See, he's fine," Tom said. "Everything is fine."

"Great, glad to know I worried for nothing," she said turning and heading toward the door.

"Sybil—"

"I have to get going."

"Stay. It's early yet."

"I have to start getting ready."

"It's 8:30. The wedding's not for another eight hours."

"My hair appointment is in half an hour. Then I have a manicure. Then my dress fitting—"

Tom should have known better, but he couldn't help but roll his eyes and, interrupting, said, "Does Mary realize you hate all that stuff?"

"It's her wedding!"

"Right—she's been dreaming about this since she was a little girl and it has to be perfect. Never mind anyone else because if even one hair of yours is out of place, then her marriage is officially ruined."

Sybil let out a laugh. "Do you think insulting my sister is going to help you in this situation?"

"I'm not insulting Mary! I'm insulting the ridiculous notion of weddings that forces women to become slaves to this one fecking day above all others. I don't have a single female acquaintance, present company included, who says she's been planning her wedding since she was five, but for some reason everyone thinks that's true of all women and we allow this industry to impress on them an absurdly unattainable definition of perfection. If she and Matthew say I do, what else matters?! You agree with me on this, I know you do!"

Sybil sighed. "I do, but I wasn't looking for a feminist rant on weddings. I was looking for a little support from my boyfriend because even though all you said is true, my sister is still allowed to want a nice wedding, and I want to help make sure she has it, and yes, I'm stressed out beyond belief, but if it means she's happy today, then I don't care. I've put away my opinions for her sake. I'm sorry you find that disappointing and I'm sorry to be so disappointed in you, but you were supposed to call me last night and you didn't!"

"I told you, your mother said—"

"Whatever she said, she didn't tell me. I waited for your call."

"I did call!"

"No you didn't! Then you were late!"

Tom looked down at the floor with a sigh. After a moment, he walked over to his closet and took out his trainers. He quickly slipped them on and moved to walk out of the room. At the door, he turned back around and said, "Matthew's been my best friend for more than ten years and my flatmate for almost as long. He wanted to stay out late last night, and so we did. I want him to have a nice wedding too. Your father said that your mother would tell you where we were. I don't know why she didn't. And I did call you, but if you want to insist otherwise, fine. I don't want to fight, so I'm going for a run. Lock up behind you."

As soon as Sybil heard the outside door slam shut, she burst into tears. She didn't know why was picking a fight with him, but the stress of the day, of the event, had been building for so long that Tom ended up as the unlucky recipient of her pent up frustrations.

He was right, though. Sybil did hate weddings. Everything about them, in fact. But she also wanted to be a good sister, so when the planning began, she'd offered Mary and her mother some help, but "some help" somehow turned into Sybil becoming the go-between with the family and the rigid and humorless taskmaster they'd hired for a wedding planner, and Sybil was ready to pull her hair out. Tom had mentioned on more than one occasion that it wasn't fair that she, of all people, had ended up as the lackey for such a big event, especially given her opinions, but he'd been there when she'd needed him.

Until last night.

Sitting in the flat now, all alone, Sybil scolded herself for letting the stress get the better of her and for chastising him for simply wanting to spend time with his best friend on such a big occasion. He hadn't called her as promised, but he was drunk from toasting Matthew's happiness, so it was easy to see how he'd forget. That one oversight couldn't be the thing that ended their relationship, could it?

Sybil couldn't stop herself from wondering if this was it. That's what always happened in the past—an argument that led to stalemate, and then it was over. She thought with Tom things would be different. She wanted them to be different, but had she managed to ruin them just the same?

Eventually, the day had to be faced. After a few more minutes of lonely tears, Sybil freshened herself up as much as she could and headed to the salon where she would be meeting her sisters and mother to get pampered before the ceremony.

When she arrived, her mother was waiting for her in the lobby.

"There you are darling," Cora said pulling her daughter into a hug. "Mary and Edith have already started, but I thought I'd wait for you."

"Sorry I'm late."

"It's OK. Mary told me you were up late trying to get Tom and Matthew home. I should have known your father would keep them out too long. That was why I went to bed after he called. I told Mary, and she should have done the same. You, too."

Sybil's anger, which had subsided to a point, started boiling up again. She extracted herself from her mother's hug. "Why didn't you tell me? I was worried sick! Then I had to deal with making sure they went home."

Cora sighed. "Mary shouldn't have asked you to do that. I've told her repeatedly that everything will work itself out and it has. You've been so sweet to help her manage it all, but really Sybil you have to enjoy yourself too. What good is having a big wedding if we're not all happy?"

"What good is a big wedding period?" Sybil asked humorlessly.

Cora smiled. "I'm really am sorry, darling. I should have made sure you knew where they were and what their plans were, but I have something that will cheer you up."

"I doubt it very much," Sybil murmured to herself.

Cora opened her purse and rifled through it for a few minutes. "Aha!" She exclaimed, pulling out her mobile and handing it to Sybil.

Sybil looked at her with a skeptical expression. "You're giving me your mobile to cheer me up?"

"Go into my messages. Apparently, your dear Tom was so drunk last night he couldn't see straight. I can only assume he intended to call you but hit my name by mistake."

Sybil felt a tightening in her chest. He had called. Just as he said he did.

"Why does he even have your number on his mobile?"

"You probably put it there. I know you've called me from it before."

"Oh."

Sybil looked down at the device, then found the message and brought the phone to her ear, turning away from her mother to listen to it.

He wasn't quite slurring his words, but it was close. Certainly, she'd never heard him drunker.

Hi, gorgeous . . . I love you. I just wanted to say that. I'm in the loo at the pub. Sorry for that but nowhere is quieter. Matthew is so happy—and so, so incredibly pissed right now. Don't tell Mary, but it's brilliant. I'm so chuffed right now to see him like this. He never lets himself get this plastered anymore. I guess he's a grown up person now and not an irresponsible fool like we used to be. I suppose I'm sort of responsible now too. Only for you though. Sometimes I wish you didn't think of me as your Mr. Right because I do so many things wrong, but really I just want to make you happy because you make me so happy. Do you know that? I want you to know it all the time because it's true. I love you, my darling Sybil. Crikey, this has gotten rather emotional, hasn't it? Whiskey turns me into an absolute bumbling fool! I've had far too much tonight. Can you believe your sister and my best mate are getting married?! Mam said I'm going to be crying like a baby tomorrow. I'm crying a bit right now . . . Anyway, there was a reason I called. What was it? I don't think it was to tell you that I loved you, which I do, I—RIGHT! So your dad talked to your mum and we're still coming by later, but it'll be much later. Or not at all. I don't know. All I know is Matthew doesn't want to leave yet. And I love you. That's something else I know. See you wh—

Sybil turned back to her mother. "Where's the rest of it?"

"Messages can only be so long, and he reached the limit so it cut him off," Cora said, smiling at the sad and anxious look on her daughter's face. Cora stepped up to Sybil and wiped her tears, tears Sybil didn't even realize were streaming down her cheeks.

Embarrassed, she turned from her mother again, but Cora stopped her and pulled her into a hug. This time Sybil accepted her mother's comfort and let herself sob for several minutes.

"I'm glad to know he loves you so much," Cora said into her daughter's hair.

Calm now, and smiling, Sybil pulled away and sighed. "Me too."

XXX

He'd run for almost an hour, and he'd have kept going if he didn't know Matthew would be back in their flat soon. Well, his flat. Next week, while Matthew and Mary were honeymooning in the south of France, the movers would come and take everything that was Matthew's away.

After getting back, and seeing that Matthew was still out, Tom ambled over to his room and fell back on his bed.

Yes, he was having a good time with his best friend last night, but he'd gotten absolutely plastered. Inappropriately and irresponsibly so. It hadn't been fair on her.

Yes, Mary was getting a bit wedding crazy, but instead of reacting with condescension the way he had, Sybil had reacted with kindness and patience. She'd done what a good sister would do. He'd hardly acted like "Mr. Right."

They often joked to one another about the names that they'd both kept on their contact lists. But secretly, he wondered—despite her assurances—whether he would ever really measure up. The life of a writer and journalist wasn't particularly glamorous or posh, and though he knew she didn't care about all of that, he wanted to make her proud.

Tom sat up again on the bed and looked around. There were traces of her all over the room now, but despite how close they'd become and despite the fact that in the past year they'd spent more nights together than apart, they still had their separate lives. He had been considering asking her to move in once Matthew had gone, but would she be willing to now?

"Want to talk about it?"

Tom turned and saw Matthew leaning against the doorjamb.

"I don't really need you to tell me when I've been an arse," Tom said with a laugh.

"She'll come around," Matthew said. "The wonderful thing about loving a Crawley woman is that no matter what happens, at the end of the day, they love too much to give up easily."

Tom sighed. "I hope you're right."

"I know I am, now stop with the moping! Nobody's allowed to be anything but sublimely happy today."

Tom laughed and stood. "So what do you want to do in your last hours of bachelorhood?"

"Would you think me stupid if I said just watch football and drink?"

"Drink?" Tom asked skeptically.

"Just beer—and we'll pace ourselves this time. Besides, we'll both need liquid courage for tonight."

"Can't argue with that."

XXX

She was a vision coming down the aisle.

Her hair was up in a neat knot just below her left ear, and the deep magenta dress Mary had chosen for her set off her delicate skin beautifully. She was smiling so brightly she was practically glowing. When she caught her mother's eye in the front pew, her smile momentarily turned into a grin. Then, it softened again as she looked over to Edith, already standing at the altar slightly off to the side.

She was only a few steps away when her eyes finally met his and in one look everything was forgiven.

She laughed slightly at something Matthew said to her as she passed him, then she stepped to the side and turned toward the pews again. The crowd stood to welcome Mary and Robert into the church. As the sound of the organ swelled and Mary and Robert began their march down the aisle, all eyes were on them.

All eyes save two.

Tom acknowledged that it might be poor form to be so obviously looking at a bridesmaid on such a moment, but he couldn't help it. He saw Sybil's eyes cloud over with tears as she watched her sister. Sybil looked down for a moment. Then, feeling his eyes on her, she turned toward him.

I love you, she mouthed silently.

Will you marry me?

Sybil's eyes widened in shock. What?

Will. You. Marry. Me?

She gasped, but before she could muster any sort of response, Mary and their father's walk had ended, and Mary and Matthew stepped forward toward the pastor together, effectively blocking her view of Tom, who hadn't really planned on asking her that particular question at that particular moment. Years later, explaining to their children and grandchildren, what had happened, he'd say, "I realized just then that I wanted to be her husband, and I needed her to know that as soon as possible."

XXX

The ceremony had felt like it lasted an eternity. Sybil could be forgiven for not having heard a word of it. When it was over and she and Tom finally—finally—came together to walk back down the aisle and out of the church together, he looked at her expectantly.

"So?" He whispered as she took his arm.

"Yes, but on one condition," she whispered back.

"Anything."

She looked at him from the side of her eyes. "Would you hate me terribly if I said I wanted to elope?"

Tom couldn't help but laugh. "Darling, I would love you more."