I was searching for the movie Metropolis to watch online when I stumbled upon an old Irish silent film, For Ireland's Sake. It got me thinking, 'Hey! If Tom and Sybil were to go to the movies in Dublin in the 1920's what would they have watched? So I did a little researching and found the perfect film which inspired me to write this little fic. I hope you enjoy!

Huge A/N regarding all the history behind the movie and cinema in 1920's Dublin is at the end of this fic.

o o o

Dublin 1920

Tom bounced into the kitchen after a long day at work and saw Sybil hunched over the stove, wiping the sweat off her brow, stirring another dinner of mashed carrots and potatoes. It was still early days and Sybil so wanted to impress him with her cooking. Although it had improved, he was craving something other than a potato-based dinner. There were so many ways they could eat cabbage, carrots, potatoes and eggs, all boiled in different combinations that wouldn't be dull to the taste buds. He wasn't any better at the stove. Truthfully, she was the better cook. She picked it up quickly and was learning his favorite dishes from his mother fast, though the end product wasn't always the desired result.

He wanted to surprise her tonight, take her out somewhere special. It had been two months and they had fallen quickly into married life. Small quarrels, kisses, sleepless nights, and animated dinner conversations. But Sybil had been insistent on not spending more than they needed to. She had become a scrupulous money manager after leaving Downton, realizing that every penny needed to be stretched and never wasted if they were to live off of her and Tom's wages from the paper and the hospital.

They did go out occasionally to get fish and chips or go to the pub on the corner and have lunch or dinner, but nothing extravagant.

Tonight, Tom felt the need to shower her; to show her how fun Dublin could be. There were numerous dancing halls all around Dublin, but most of them were north of the Liffey. Perhaps that was too far a walk after a night on their feet and downing a few good Irish whiskeys. Tom thought of the perfect place as he sat at his desk with an unfinished article still in his typewriter. As the clock struck four, Tom rushed home to Sybil.

He wrapped his arms around her waist as he hugged her from behind, kissing the nape of her neck then resting his chin on her shoulder. She turned her head slightly and kissed him right below the temple.

"Let's go to the cinema tonight," Tom said as he swayed back and forth.

"Why?"

"I ran into Niall on my way back home and-"

Sybil stopped stirring the pot.

"Why didn't you invite him in?"

She switched off the stove and turned in his arms, continuing their conversation face-to-face, Tom's hands on Sybil's waist and Sybil's hands on Tom's shoulders.

"Because I told him we were going out tonight, anyway, Niall went to the Palace-"

"The new cinema by Trinity?"

"Apparently with yet another girl…"

Both Sybil and Tom rolled their eyes as Tom waved his hands to dismiss his last comment.

"…but that's beside the point. He said we should go see the picture they're playing."

Sybil walked away from the stove, untying the loop behind her and taking the apron off from her neck. She draped it on the small dinner table as she started undoing the collar on her nurses uniform.

"What's it called?" Sybil asked.

Tom leaned on the counter beside the stove and crossed his arms, watching Sybil undo the buttons on her uniform closest to her neck and on her wrists. Momentary lost in the sight of her, Tom shook his head and answered her question.

"Didn't say. Just said the cinema was deserted when he went and that he knew we would enjoy it."

Sybil unpinned her nurse's cap and dropped it on the table next to her apron, heaving out a sigh of relief. She rubbed her neck, massaging away the aches and pains.

"Alright, but I've never seen a picture before," She quietly confessed.

Tom's eyes widened slightly, excited that he would be the first one to take her out on a proper, modern, date.

"Never?"

Sybil fiddled with her hands, a habit he noticed she did when she was nervous.

"Well, I was never allowed. Whenever we would go down London, Mary and Edith never wanted to see one with me. They said it was too common. I could have seen one when I was in York, but I heard people throw popcorn and peanuts if they don't like the picture."

He walked over to her side and planted a kiss on the crown of her head as he rubbed her lower back.

"It's not so bad," he reassured her.

"Are you sure?"

"We'll be the only ones there Sybil. If you don't like it, you can start throwing the peanuts."

Tom smiled, trying to reassure her further, but her mind was clearly somewhere else, still somewhat disappointed. She pointed to the stove.

"But I made dinner for us…"

He peered into the lumpy mass of orange and pale yellow. It didn't look appetizing, but it smelled delicious. It would have to wait until tomorrow. Tom walked back to her and playfully led her to the bedroom to get changed for their evening out.

"You made a wonderful breakfast love!"

. . .

Arm in arm, they strolled past Trinity College and were coming up on The Palace Cinema and Ballroom. The marquee advertised the picture in bold black lettering against a dull white light.

Sybil squinted her eyes, trying to get a good look.

"What's that say?" She asked.

As they walked closer, Tom could decipher the title against the lighted background.

"Willy Reilly and his Colleen Bawn."

Sybil clapped her hands in excitement.

"Sounds interesting," she said cheerfully.

"Sounds boring."

They came up to the box office. No one in sight except for the ticket master. Tom stopped several steps from the ticket booth and stood his ground. He had no idea why Niall would recommend this movie to him and Sybil. Niall knew he didn't read novels and Willy Reilly sounded like it had been lifted from the page of a 19th century sentimental novel.

Sybil tilted her head to the side and glared at Tom, hands on her hips.

"You were the one who wanted to wanted to go out tonight."

Tom tried his best, but all that came out sounded like a whine.

"But I didn't want to see a love story."

"It might not be. Don't be a spoil sport Tom. It might be good. And I've never seen a picture before."

Sybil moved closer to him and pouted a little.

"I thought I gave the orders Branson."

He could never resist.

"Of course milady," Tom said, a slight smile breaking through.

. . .

The lights dimmed. The music from the phonograph at the front of the stage started its tune. The light from the projector lit up the plain canvas at the front. The entire cinema was theirs for the next hour and a half. No seats were filled except the ones they sat in.

Niall was right. Not a soul was with them in the theatre.

Not that Tom cared why at the moment, his mind and efforts were pointed to the woman sitting beside him.

Sybil's squeals filled the small cinema as Tom leaned over and started to nip at her earlobe with his lips. Something about an empty theatre, a dark room, and the threat of being caught spurred Tom on as he continued to kiss down her neck.

"Tom! No! I'm trying to watch!" Sybil hissed as she swatted at his chest with the back of her hand, to no avail.

He brought his hand up to caress her cheek as his lips made their way up her neck, to her cheek and to the corner of her lips.

Sybil tried her best to focus her eyes on the screen, but it was quite difficult to stop him when she was becoming more and more eager herself.

"Tom Branson! This is my first picture! I want to enjoy it!"

"Aren't you?" he replied playfully, pecking her on the lips.

She pulled her lips away and Tom sought refuge on her neck once again, finding the spot just below her jaw that would make her purr. Sybil whimpered and ran her hands through his hair, holding his head on her neck, breathing heavily.

"Yes, but not in the way I want to…oh…"

Tom's hand reached down from her cheek to lightly brush against her breast before taking one in his hand and gently squeezing it through the layers of fabric she was wearing. Her breathing was becoming more shallow and so was his. She pressed her chest forward, letting him grasp more.

Eyes half lidded and bodies warming up, Sybil forgot about the movie completely as she started to lay down on the cinema seats, Tom eagerly climbing on top of her.

"Well aren't you a little randy tonight?" she said as she started to unbutton his wastcoat.

"Mhmm…" he mumbled into cheek.

As Sybil turned her head to allow Tom more access to her neck, she briefly opened her eyes and looked at the screen.

Her whole body tensed. She tapped Tom's shoulder in haste to get him off of her so she could watch the movie properly. Tom, on the other hand, kept going.

"What what's wrong darling?" he asked as she pushed him off of her, sitting up once again. Her eyes were glued to the screen, his on her lips.

"Watch the picture Tom."

"I will soon," he said as he leaned in for another kiss, keen on restarting what they had stopped.

"No. Watch it now."

As he leaned in, she grabbed his face and turned it to the screen, forcing his eyes to watch was unfolding on the canvas screen.

His jaw dropped.

The man, Willy Reilly, was an Irish-Catholic aristocrat who had just declared his love for a woman in a lower class Helen Folliard, who happened to be Protestant. Her father disapproved of the potential marriage and hoped to marry her off to another man, a Protestant like Helen and her father.

Although the stories hadn't lined up perfectly, each of their stories were too similar to be dismissed as coincidence. The line between fiction and reality shook both of them.

Stunned, Tom turned to Sybil, eyes wide and full of shock. Her expression was the same.

"Holy Christ. We're them."

Sybil shook her head in disagreement.

"No. They're us."

. . .

As the movie went on, Tom and Sybil were gripped by the tale. Two star-crossed lovers kept apart by conflict, class, and religion. An hour into the picture, Willy and Helen decided to run away together and elope against the wishes of her father.

Tom reached out for Sybil's hand and held it tightly in his.

After a brief chase, Willy and Helen were caught and brought back, unable to marry each other.

Tom squeezed Sybil's hand and she returned the gesture, knowing that their time apart after they had been caught had been uncertain as well.

She covered his hand with both of hers and turned to him, tears brimming in his eyes. The memory of her leaving him alone and lonely at the Swan Inn so many months ago still burned in his heart.

Sybil brought the back of his hand to her lips as she gently kissed it, whispering an "I'm sorry" into his skin.

Willy was found guilty of abduction and sentenced to seven years of exile, leaving both Helen and Willy alone to pine away for each other from afar, waiting until the day he returned and asked for her hand in marriage.

Five years Tom waited for Sybil, knowing that she loved him (and he her) but unsure if her love for him was so great that she would give up everything to be with him.

It was and she did.

For all four of them, waiting made love all the more sweeter.

. . .

Tom and Sybil walked though the cinema doors, hand in hand. Up north they walked, hoping to find a decent pub with a kitchen that was still open. They walked down the river walk, heading towards the docks. Women walked the streets as the men followed, their money discreetly hidden in their pockets. Echoes of angry shouts and yells came from far away alleys. The homeless sat in dark corners, waiting for a few shillings to feed themselves. True, life was much different here than at Downton. Dublin was bleak and bleary, but the Irish were a sturdy people. Change was upon them and it wouldn't be long until Ireland won her freedom, with Tom, Sybil and the rest of their family standing next to her in victory.

For tonight though, no politics, no fighting, no police, no riots. Just a young couple in love having a nice night out.

As they walked along the river, Tom swung their clasped hands back and forth, earning him a laugh and smile from his beloved wife.

"I take it you liked you first picture," Tom said as they passed yet another pub that was closing for the night.

"I did. Every minute of it. It reminded me of us. Remind me to thank Niall next time we see him."

The dull clack of heels hitting the pavement suddenly stopped as Tom and pulled Sybil in front of him. Smiles on their faces, he gently brushed his nose on hers, leaning in as if to kiss her.

"Ahh, but love, you're forgetting something very crucial," he whispered.

"What is it?" Sybil said breathlessly, waiting for his lips on hers.

Tom pulled away, leaving her wanting.

"We only waited five years. They waited seven. We could…you know…wait another for another two years if you really want to make it like the picture."

Sybil opened her eyes to find Tom with a huge grin on his face, knowing he had denied her a kiss. She scrunched her nose in mock anger and huffed away, setting off back home without her husband.

"You're absolutely infuriating Tom Branson."

Tom laughed and jogged briskly towards her retreating body. "I'm sorry love. I promise to make it up to you later, but not two years later."

A mumbled "You better" was spoken into Tom's coat as Tom pulled her into a warm embrace. Sybil pulled away and snaked her arm around his waist as his found its way around her shoulders. They walked like this through the quiet Dublin streets, listening to the sounds of Dublin at night as it came alive like the candles in the window sills.

Sybil and Tom continued to walk the Liffey as a comfortable silence fell between them. Sybil sighed and leaned her head into Tom's shoulder, taking in the scent of his coat, aftershave, and him all at the same time. She inhaled deeply, committing this moment to memory.

"Against all odds, Helen and Willy fell in love and found a way to be together, like us. You're my Helen. You're my Colleen Bawn."

Sybil stopped to look at Tom. She placed a hand on his cheek, hoping that he knew that her touch meant more than the words she spoke.

As she stroked his cheek, Sybil chuckled at the next thought that popped into her mind and decided to share it with Tom.

"You should write a story based on us: Sybil Crawley and her Tommy Bawn."

Tom let out a loud laugh and kissed her on the nose. Confused, Sybil pulled back, wondering if she had made a mistake.

"What? It rhymes like the title," she said defensively.

His laughs now subsided, Tom smiled at Sybil and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they began to walk again.

"Well love, the meaning doesn't quite translate. And why am I Helen?"

Sybil looked up to Tom as they continued walking down the cobblestone street.

"Even though we're married and we're equals, you'll always be my Branson."

Tom looked at Sybil and stopped once again. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"And you'll always be my milady."

Sybil grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him down for a kiss. Languid but passionate. Shared inhales and exhales, hands wandering, heads dizzy, eyes shut, in an attempt to relish the feeling of each others lips on theirs. It was heaven.

Sybil pulled away, wanting to get home as soon as possible, but wanting to savor this perfect night in Dublin. She sighed and nodded her head slightly to signal that they should keep walking. Once again they were in each others arms, wandering the streets of Dublin.

"Honestly, I should be Willy." Tom said a few minutes later.

"Because you're a man?" Sybil asked.

"No! Because I'm Catholic…"

"Just admit it Tom. You don't have to keep your true opinions from me, even if they're completely wrong."

Tom mockingly rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

"Fine…and a man."

Sybil took two large strides and turned on her heels, walking backwards and still facing Tom. Breaking contact, he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. She quirked an eyebrow up at him, a teasing smile tugged at her lips.

"See. Was that so bad love?"

A huge smirk crossed Tom's face. Tom mumbled "Horrible" as he, all of a sudden, took his hands out of his pockets and reached out to grab her waist. A riotous laugh escaped Sybil's lips as she barely escaped his grasp. The pair strolled on as their voices and laughter slowly faded away into the quiet Dublin night.

. . .

A/N: I tried to make this fic as factual as possible. The title of silent film is Willy Reilly and his Colleen Bawn. It was released in 1920 and it's available for streaming if you google it. It's based on a novel written by William Carleton in 1855 called Willy Reilly and His Dear Cooleen Bawn. The relationship between Willy Reilly and Helen Folliard somewhat parallels that of Sybil and Tom's. They have a cross-class love affair (Willy being an aristocrat and Helen being the daughter of a squire). There's a Catholic (Willy) - Protestant (Helen) marriage. Both couples try to run away and elope but were caught. There's an unbelievable amount of waiting (Tom and Sybil waited 5 years. Helen and Willy waited 7). It's set in a time when there is great social upheaval in Ireland (The Penal Times (persecution of Catholics) in WRahCB and the Easter Rising which was the start of the Irish Revolution.)

If you read this and you kind of chuckled at the title, you would be right to. "Colleen Bawn" is the Anglicized spelling for "cailin bán," which means "fair girl" in Irish. So you can see why Tom laughed when Sybil called him her Tommy Bawn, which means "Tommy Girl." (EDIT: gothamgirl28 PM'ed me and told me that Colleen Bawn does mean "fair girl", but I was mistaken in my translation. Colleen means "girl" and Bawn means "fair". I thought that bawn came from the Irish bean which means woman. So Tommy Bawn means Fair Tommy. Thank you for telling me GG!)

A note on the cinema: The Palace Cinema and Ballroom was opened on May 1920. It was situated on the former Great Brunswick Street, now Pearse Street. Although it opened in May 1920, the building was built in 1824. In 1844, it was repurposed into concert hall, then again repurposed in 1920 as a cinema. It still stands today and is used as a office building.