Author's note -

Here's the last chapter I had previously posted on Tumblr, meaning we are now up to date. Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and reviewing since I began moving this story over here - hope you enjoy where I take this fic, there's still plenty more angst and romance to come - and perhaps the odd bit of smut, too. ;)

It's dedicated to the lovely zip-goes-a-million, whose prompt for the Tumblr S/T Valentine's exchange I incorporated. And - very special thanks to the awesome team at Allen Leech Online, who worked so hard to bring us the adorable picture of Allen at school which I used when I posted this fic on Tumblr. Awwww!

Chapter 11

A week later

"How do I look?"

Sybil brushed her hair back from her face and straightened her dress, smiling nervously. Tom hastened to reassure her.

"Sweetheart, you look perfect." He reached up to knock on the door, but she grabbed his hand.

"Are you sure? It's going to be a lot for her to take in – you visit Dublin out of the blue for the first time this year, bringing someone she's never heard of. With everything we are going to tell her... would it be better if I went for a walk first, let her spend some time with you, before she meets me?"

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

"You don't need to worry. Truly, you don't. My mother is going to love you. How could she not?"

He tipped her face up to his and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. When her hands twined around his neck and her tongue slid along his bottom lip, he was tempted to close his eyes and sink into her kiss. So tempted...

Then, he saw a lace curtain twitching across the street, and knew he could delay no longer. His mother would never forgive him if Helen Ryan knew about Sybil before she did.

"Come on love, let's get it over with. Promise it won't be as bad as you think!"

He lifted the knocker and rapped it a couple of times. Soon, they heard light footsteps coming down the hallway towards them. The door opened to reveal his mother – a slim, fair-haired woman with the blue eyes she'd handed down to him. Eyes that gleamed with unshed tears.

"Tommy, my boy! It's been too long! Conas atá tú?"

She pulled him into a warm embrace. When she released him, Tom wrapped his arm around Sybil.

"Tá mé go maith. Mam, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Sybil Crawley. Sybil, this is my mother, Eileen Branson."

His mother's smile was warm. "Sybil, dear – you're very welcome, I'm sure. Come on inside, you must be hungry after your trip."

She waved them both through the door and led the way to a small, warm kitchen, where she began to bustle around making tea.

Sybil looked at Tom as they sat down. His heart lifted as she reached out to take his hand under the table.

After a simple meal of toasted sandwiches, accompanied by some Branson family small talk (one piece of news at a time, reasoned Tom to himself), Eileen led the way upstairs.

"Tommy, your room is just as you left it. Sybil, I've put you in here –Tom's sister is away at college now. You'll both find clean towels on your beds."

His mother's look spoke volumes to her son. I don't care what you get up to out of my sight, but while you're here... no unseemly nocturnal activities!

He had expected this – his mother was a devout Catholic – and smiled at her. "Thanks Mam – I'll make sure Sybil has everything she needs."

"Oíche mhaith." Eileen smiled at them both before going into her own room and closing the door.

Sybil turned towards Tom. "Come here, you, and give me a kiss before bed."

"Whatever milady commands," he growled, making her giggle as he pushed her back against the wall and kissed her deeply, leaving her breathless and blushing by the time they broke apart.

"I don't know how I'm going to sleep without you, darling..." she murmured. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, arms still resting around his waist, and her glance sent a flutter through his heart.

"I know. Me too, mo mhuirnín." He brushed a teasing curl from her cheek.

"We're going to miss you so much."

"We?"

"Me and our babies, silly." She took his hand and placed it on her stomach.

He felt a tear behind his eyes when he heard those words, and leaned down to kiss her again softly.

"As the song says, Sybil – dream a little dream of me."

"I will, I promise." She blew him a kiss and left him alone in the darkened hallway.

Sybil's absence that night was a physical ache for Tom.

He wasn't only missing sex with her – as extraordinary as it always was. He also wanted to hold her close as she fell asleep, his face buried in the back of her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

Alone in his childhood bed, his arms felt empty without her.

Sleep was elusive and, around 3am, he knew he had to see her. Opening her door quietly, a shaft of moonlight streaming across the room showed him that Sybil was sleeping in one of his old t-shirts. Her arms were wrapped around her own body, as if to mimic his embrace.

That sight made Tom long to wake her up and tear the t-shirt off her, stroke her bare skin, kiss her warm mouth. But he resisted temptation, knowing she needed her sleep for the day to come. Instead, he went back to his room and sank into a doze until daybreak.

"Look, here's my junior school, St Brendan's."

Tom pulled on Sybil's hand, bringing her to a halt beside a wire fence as they walked through the streets of his old stomping ground.

"Over there – see the monkey bars? That's where I fell and broke my arm when I was seven or eight."

"You poor baby. It must have hurt!"

"Lucky for me, Annie O'Connor was there, and she looked after me until the school nurse came. She gave me my first kiss that day, as I remember."

She pretended to pout. "Should I be jealous – your first love?"

He winked at her. "She's happily married with three children now, living in New Zealand. So no, you don't need to be jealous."

"Cheeky!" She swatted his chest. "I'll bet you were a real charmer when you were younger."

"Ah, I'm not so sure about that, me darlin'." He leaned to kiss her cheek before leading her around the corner to a tree-lined park, the grass scattered with dandelions.

"The scene of my greatest sporting triumph – when I scored twice against the hated Sacred Heart boys. I was the hero of the hour!" He chuckled at the memory. "And there, under that tree – I found a couple of abandoned kittens, and took them home to my mother in my school jumper."

"Really? Aww, that's such an adorable story!" Sybil squeezed his hand and he returned her caress.

As they walked along the street, Tom could almost see himself, fair hair falling into his eyes as he cycled home from school, on his way to a friend's house, doing his paper round to earn money of his own. The memories were so thick, he almost had to brush them away from his face.

"You know, there are so many stories from these streets for me, Sybil. I never ranged that far from home when I was a boy – these few blocks were my whole world. Every tree, every footpath – I knew them all so well."

They approached a large, low rise red brick building, set in an asphalt playground. He pointed towards a shed at the back of the block.

"That's where I spent more time than I should have in senior school. Sneaking a cigarette, skipping class with my mates. No wonder I didn't do too well in my exams!"

"We would probably never have met at school, you know – I was the exact opposite. Always working hard, trying to do my best, Miss Goody Two Shoes."

Sybil sat down on a low brick wall, shaking her hair back over her shoulders, eyes dreamy.

"Your childhood was so different to mine, Tom. And not just in the obvious way..." She smiled up at him. "Not the whole 'daughter of an earl' thing! Growing up in the country, I mean, and going away to boarding school when I was eleven."

Her gaze was steady. "When I think of my life growing up, it's more of an internal landscape I return to – my imagination, favourite books, that kind of thing. But for you... you know where you come from, where you belong – I envy you that, love."

"What about Downton Abbey? Isn't that home?" Tom sat beside her, taking her hand.

The way she dropped her eyes showed him the sensitivity of the topic. "Downton Abbey is where I grew up, but now when I go back to visit, I know I don't really belong there. Never did, really."

She sighed. "My family loved me, sure, but I felt as if they wanted a life for me that was never mine. When I took another road, they couldn't understand. Maybe one day I'll be able to explain it to them."

He moved closer to her and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close. She raised her face to his and touched his cheek with one finger.

"I know where I belong now, though, Tom – right here, in your arms. You are home to me." She kissed him and he returned the favour, several times over.

"Me too, darling," he whispered when they parted. "You're my world now, you and our children."

Her hands wove around his shoulders as he cradled her tightly in his arms, pressing his lips to her hair. As long as their embrace lasted, nothing could touch them.

A/N -

Another piece of casting FYI - I saw Joely Richardson as Eileen Branson. And I confess, I borrowed the kitten story from Mr CM. :)

Translating the Irish phrases (per Google Translate):

Conas atá tú = How are you?

Tá mé go maith = I'm well.

Oíche mhaith = Good night.

Mo mhuirnín = My sweetheart.

There's more to the story of this Dublin visit... hope to post that soon!