ACK! So sorry for how long this took to update. I'm going to work hard to make sure I get this story updated a lot more this fall season. But thank you for your patience, and thank you also for those that were so kind to leave reviews after the first chapter!

As I mentioned in the last chapter, this is a take on the BBC sci-fi drama "Blackmirror" (similar to "The Twilight Zone") specifically the episode "Fifteen Million Merits", and is more or less *my* take on if that story had been a Sybil/Tom story (and how I would have wanted it to go). And just a reminder, that the first half of each chapter is told from Alfred's POV, and the second have is in flashback, told from Tom's.

Ok, enough chit-chat, on with the story. But again, THANK YOU for sticking with it or for clicking and reading for the first time now! It will be angsty, but I will also do my best ot bring out the loveliness of our fav Irishman and English lady. THANK YOU and please share your thoughts!

II

He awoke to an empty room. Alfred was a bit dazed when the alarm went off (which thankfully wasn't like the alarm of his old workhouse, which not only screamed in one's ear, but shook the bed, while here it was just a soft "ringing" sound, with the lights flashing overhead), and with a yawn, rose from the bunk and stretched his long limbs, turning to see if his bunkmate was still asleep…only to find that the bed was unoccupied.

Alfred frowned. Where on earth had he—Branson—gone?

"One-hundred and twenty seconds till doors open," the electric voice announced overhead. Alfred knew what that meant. He quickly changed into his work clothes for the day and tied his shoes, before a loud buzz blared overhead, and the door to his room opened.

He filed out, and for the first time since his arrival, saw his fellow workers. They were filing out into the corridor like him, some looking barely awake, while others were already jumping, stretching, and cracking their necks, as if preparing for a long day of work ahead.

But before any of that was to take place…breakfast.

They all filed into the canteen, and Alfred quickly stepped aside, watching as people went up to the machines that the superior had shown him yesterday when he first arrived, punching in various number sequences into the keypads, before holding their armbands out for the machines to scan and deduct. Some workers settled on what appeared to be a simple bowl of porridge, while others spent a bit more and got eggs and toast. Everyone, it seemed, got coffee.

"You're new," he heard someone comment, and turned his head then to see a small, almost elfish looking girl gaze up at him, her eyes large and her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"I am," he confirmed, blushing a little. "My name's Alfred, I arrived just yesterday."

The girl smiled, though it was small (rather like the rest of her). "Daisy," she told him, holding her hand out to him. He shook it. "Well, if you need help with anything, from getting around or knowing how something works…"

"The superior showed me yesterday," he told her. "But thank you, I appreciate it."

She smiled again, a little bigger this time. "I um…I don't suppose…" she started, and then blushed and looked down. "I doubt that you have, you only just started," she mumbled.

He looked confused. "What?"

Daisy looked back up at him. "Just…well, you could, if you like, have a cycling partner—"

"Who's this?" a blond man asked, coming up next to Daisy and peering at Alfred, though he was not unfriendly looking.

Daisy, however, looked a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. "This is Alfred, he just transferred here."

"Ah! Fresh blood!" the blond man chuckled, and then slapped Alfred (a bit too hard) on his shoulder, though he could tell there was nothing malicious in the gesture. "I'm Jimmy!" the blond man introduced. "And this…where'd she go? IVY!" he called out to a girl who looked to be having a difficult mind making up her mind on what to get from the machines. However, she lifted her head at the sound of her name. "Come meet—what was your name again?"

"Alfred," Daisy muttered.

"Right, Alfred—COME MEET ALFRED!" Jimmy called back to Ivy, and the girl (who Alfred couldn't deny, he found rather breathtaking) finally came over to join them.

"Hello," Ivy greeted, smiling sweetly.

Gosh she was lovely. "H-h-hi," Alfred stammered, which earned a giggle from Ivy and a laugh from Jimmy (and eye roll from Daisy)

"According to Daisy, Alfred just transferred here," Jimmy explained. "Where were you before?"

"London," Alfred told them, which earned wide-eye surprise from all three.

"Really?" Ivy gasped. "Why in heaven's name did you leave?"

"Actually, the workhouse there wasn't as nice as this one," and it was true. He wasn't missing anything from his old workhouse.

"No, Downton is one of the best, even if it does seem boring after a while," Jimmy said with a nod, trying to sound like he knew more about something than he actually did. "So, who are you bunking with?"

Alfred frowned at that and looked around the canteen, wondering if he would see his missing bunkmate eating breakfast with the rest of the workers, but the stocky Irishman was nowhere to be seen. "That's the thing…" he mumbled. "I woke up this morning, and he wasn't there! He'd already gotten up—"

"Oh my gosh!" Ivy gasped, her hand going to cover her mouth and she looked at Jimmy, whose own eyes had widened in realization.

"What?" Alfred asked, feeling a bit out of place. They clearly knew something he didn't.

"Oh no…" Jimmy murmured, though despite his words, there was clear merriment in his voice as he was chuckling and shaking his head in "sympathy". "Oh no, you…you're bunked with Branson!?"

The tips of Alfred's ears felt like they were burning, along with the rest of his face. Apparently this was a big joke to Jimmy and Ivy, though Daisy, Alfred noticed, didn't seem to share in their amusement. "Don't know why you're laughing," Alfred grumbled. "Nothing funny about that one." And it was true, he still remembered the way Branson got into his face the previous night when he had "accidently" stumbled across the pornography option for his Vision Selection and more or less, threatened to hurt him if that channel was ever played in their room…even as just an advertisement.

Jimmy tried to get a hold of himself. "Sorry, sorry, no, we're not laughing at you, in truth…we feel sorry for you!"

Alfred wasn't sure that was any better.

Jimmy leaned in, and lowered his voice. "Branson—he's weird, that one!"

"Always keeps to himself," Ivy added. "Never talks to anyone."

"And don't be surprised if he's not there when you wake up—he's always cycling before everyone else," Jimmy added. "In fact…I can't even imagine him sleeping. Are you sure he sleeps?"

It was a teasing question, but Alfred could tell that there was some genuine curiosity in Jimmy's question.

"There was a rumor that he did something to his last bunkmate—"

"That's not true," Daisy interrupted Ivy, giving the other girl a look of disapproval. "You're wrong about him, he's just…"

Her voice trailed off, and Jimmy lifted an eyebrow. "Just what, exactly?"

Daisy groaned and rolled her eyes. "Nothing, never mind," she muttered, before turning and walking away from them.

Alfred frowned, while Jimmy and Ivy just shook their heads. "Daisy's just sentimental about everyone," Jimmy muttered before turning back to Alfred and patting his shoulder in reassuring gesture. "Anyway, you should be fine, so long as you keep to yourself and stay out of his way."

Despite Jimmy's efforts, Alfred didn't exactly feel "reassured".

A light overhead began to blink and people started to scramble and finish their meals. Ivy began to groan that she hadn't gotten anything, and would now be starving until the next meal break, which was the same for Alfred; his supervisor hadn't been wrong about how important it was to act when the designated meal times were given.

A bell rang overhead, and all of the workers quickly started to file out of the canteen, and Alfred followed, getting in line behind Jimmy and Ivy and following them down a long corridor which eventually filtered out into a large room where endless rows upon rows of cycles waited.

People walked up to various cycles without a backwards glance and proceeded to climb on, punching in a sequence of numbers on a keypad connected to the cycle, and their viewing screens lit up with different projections, some of which Alfred recognized from the previous evening.

"Just take any cycle that's available," Jimmy told him, before he and Ivy turned and took two cycles that were a few feet away, side by side. Alfred tried not to feel a little disappointed as he watched Ivy go off with Jimmy.

He continued to look around the room…and paused when he saw one cyclist sitting a good ways away…and sitting all by himself.

His bunkmate, Branson.

There was no one on either side of him, in fact…from what Alfred could tell, it seemed that people were avoiding him at all costs.

The calm forest path which Branson had "bought" with his merits from the previous evening was displayed before him, but the man didn't seem to be paying attention, he was just hunched over the cycle's handlebars and was peddling at a good, brisk pace, the muscles in his shoulders, back, and legs quite visible through the fabric of his work clothes, and already, Alfred could see a long, dark sheen of sweat appearing on the back of Branson's shirt as he pedaled.

How long had he been there? Alfred still found it amazing that his bunkmate was even allowed to come in and cycle before the designated work time, but he had heard stories from other workers, how some workhouses allowed this, and any merits collected by workers during those "off hours", the workers could keep entirely to themselves, rather than offer up a percentage of what they earned to the workhouse itself, during "normal hours".

And that was when Alfred remembered the amount of merits Branson had. Over thirteen million! One didn't just get to thirteen million by working normal hours. And that brought up another question; what was he saving all those merits for?

"Take a cycle," a supervisor barked nearby, and Alfred swallowed and nodded and…not seeing any other readily available to where he stood…reluctantly walked over to where Branson was, and climbed on to one that was nearby (though not directly next to him).

If Branson was aware of his presence, he didn't show it. Nothing seemed to break his stride, he just continued to pedal, as if that cycle weren't bolted to the ground. Alfred swallowed, and turned his focus back to the blank wall (he never made a Vision Selection) and started to pedal, knowing he had a quota like everyone else to meet. Yet he couldn't help, every so often, glancing over at the other man, and just…wondering…

Who was Branson?

"Um…hello?"

He was hunkered down over the handlebars of his cycle when he heard her voice, low and husky. He turned to his left, and then gripped the bars to keep from falling off, as he was surprised by the sight of her pretty face leaning close.

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, quickly taking a step back and biting her lip in embarrassment.

He swallowed and shook his head, suddenly feeling rather self-conscious about how sweaty he was. "You didn't, I…" he blushed and shook his head. "Sorry, I um…"

She was smiling at him, her bottom lip held between her teeth and he felt his heart suddenly speed up.

"I'm Sybil," she introduced, holding her hand out to him.

He blinked for a second, then looked down at her offered hand, and then finally reached out and took it, shaking it in his. "Tom," he answered, before adding "Branson," which was how he was called by his supervisor, so as not to confuse him with Thomas, another worker.

Her grin broadened. "Pleased to meet you, Tom."

He nodded, though he still wasn't exactly sure what else to say. He wasn't used to…interacting…with others.

"Mind if I take this cycle next to you?"

"Um…" he looked around; there were other cycles nearby that were unoccupied, and more choices for her to sit and cycle near others who were much more…social, than himself. Yet she seemed content with her choice, and was patiently waiting for him to answer, so he swallowed and nodded and murmured, "sure," to which she smiled again, punched in the numbers on her cycle, and proceeded to climb on and start.

He glanced at the Viewing Screen in front of her, which suddenly lit up to a serene and peaceful looking forest path. She sighed, almost wistfully as she gazed at the nature scene, before she started to pedal.

She glanced at the wall in front of him, no doubt taking notice that it was blank. "Oh, will this bother you?" she asked, pointing at her screen.

He shook his head. "No, it's alright," he assured. "And…if I can be honest, I prefer the nature scenes to the other channels."

"Oh I agree! So many of those other channels are just obnoxious," she groaned with a roll of her eyes. Tom couldn't help but grin at the gesture.

"And…" she added, leaning close so only he could hear, though there wasn't anyone else close enough to overhear. "I'm just so glad that you're not one of those blokes who has to have 'Wraith Babes' on," her face contorted with disgust.

He understood what she meant. He knew several workers who were clearly addicted to the channel and all of them were complete wankers. "I normally cycle away from everyone because I prefer the quiet," he confessed. "But like I said, the nature scenes are fine…I just hate spending the merits."

Her eyes widened at this. "Oh? Are you saving them for something?" Her cheeks suddenly flooded with color and he couldn't deny…it made her already pretty face even prettier. "I'm sorry, that's me being nosey, just forget—"

"It's alright," he chuckled. "No, I um…I'm actually trying to save up enough so I can…" he looked around, just to make sure there were no supervisors walking within earshot. "…So I can go home."

Her eyes widened. "Oh my…" She now started to glance around the room too. "Is home…Ireland?"

He nodded, pleased that she had recognized his accent. As far as he was aware, he was the only Irish worker at the Downton workhouse. "Aye," he answered, with a bit of a cheeky wink that caused her to giggle. He was finding that he rather liked the sound. "Dublin, to be exact."

Now she looked very curious. "How did you come here?"

He sighed. "Well, I…I had a cousin…" he began. "He um…he had a debt, you see, and…well…" he started to glance around again, and then felt something touch his hand, and looking down realized…it was her.

"I understand," she murmured, and when he looked into her eyes…he could see those weren't just words she was saying to be kind.

She really did understand.

"…You?"

She nodded. "Yes," she whispered, but if she was going to add anything more to that, she didn't. Which was fair…everyone was entitled to their secrets.

"Well…I think that's very noble of you," she said after a pause, smiling again.

He blushed. "I don't know if it's 'noble', but thank you."

"It's a very worthy goal to aim for," she continued, referring now to his goal to gain enough merits to return to Ireland. "I hope you achieve it, and soon!"

He smiled and nodded his head in thanks, and a silence fell between them then, and even though they had only just met…it was oddly…comfortable.

He glanced at her, his brow furrowed slightly. "Sorry, but…I don't think I've ever seen you around here before."

She blushed and looked down. "I um…I was here, once, and then transferred out…and now I'm back."

It wasn't missed on him that again, she wasn't volunteering more information than necessary, and he knew when not to pry, so he left it at that. Besides, they had only just met.

"Hey!" she turned and looked at him, a big grin growing on her face once again. "Would you be interested in becoming partners?"

He almost skidded off his cycle at her question. "Partners?" he stammered, blushing deeply.

She bit her lip to hold back her giggles. "Cycling partners," she amended.

Oh, of course.

"It's just…I mean, I know you're supposed to 'share merits', so that may not sound desirable, but I am actually a fast cycler, and I do know that if you have a cycling partner, it's easier to meet the daily quota, therefore any merits earned afterward can be stored up for personal—"

"Alright, alright," he was laughing then, but his spirits had honestly never felt lighter. "You've convinced me."

She blinked, and looked rather surprised. "Really?" she asked, her sweet smile spreading further than before. She had a beautiful smile…

"Aye, really," he confirmed. "But don't hesitate to tell me to slow down if it gets to be too much."

She smirked and poked her tongue out before settling into a good rhythm on her cycle. "Just try to keep up, Branson."

...to be continued