Alternating POV for Tom and Sybil (Well, what did you expect?). The song Lyrics are from Bee Gee's 'Words'

Smile an everlasting smile, a smile can bring you near to me.

Her smile had been one of the first things he had noticed about her. All her enthusiasm for life and her friendly, open manner were portrayed in one simple gesture. He had noticed that on the first day he had driven the ladies into the village. The topic of women's suffrage had caught his attention, but it was Sybil's confident smirk that had intrigued him most. He hadn't stopped thinking about her for the rest of that day, even searching out some pamphlets to give to her. She'd smiled at him the next day as he reached over the seat to hand them to her. It was a cautious, wary smile, but a smile nonetheless.

In contrast she was positively beaming as she appeared from the dressmakers. It was contagious; he couldn't help grinning as she came closer.

"Oh, Branson, I hope I haven't kept you waiting. I was discussing details with one of the assistants." She breathed.

"Not at all, milady," he reassured her. "I trust everything went well."

"Yes, very well. And it will be ready by Friday. I wish I could show you." It was an innocent comment, but somehow it was the start of something more.

He found the drawing room window, just as she had instructed. Head held high, she exuded confidence. She was utterly captivating, a proud, almost smug smile across her features. He shook his head, knowing full well it was an act of rebellion on her part, but also because he was aware that his own feelings were on the borderline of becoming dangerous. She was beautiful, a vision, and he was slowly, rapidly falling in love with her.

Don't ever let me find you gone, cause that would bring a tear to me.

Branson had been pushed away from her. She'd felt safe all the while he had been standing with her. Now she felt cold and slightly panicked. She wanted to call his name, reach out to him, when she was shoved. She'd always expected her last thought to be for her family, but as she fell she took just one name with her: Branson.

She woke up at Crawley House. Isobel was standing over her, Matthew was there and she could hear Mary, but no Branson. 'Where is he?' her brain was screaming at her. Was he alright? Had he been hurt also? No, surely he'd driven them back. His name drifted into the conversation, and she tried to focus on what they were saying

"What was he thinking? I'm afraid it will cost him his job."

"No." Sybil immediately defended him. "I told him he was taking me to a committee meeting. When he realised what it was, he wanted to come straight back."

"You'll have to stick up for him, because papa will skin him alive." Sybil took Mary's words into consideration. She would ensure that nothing happened to him…

"If you punish Branson, I'll never speak to you again, never." Her threats may be hollow, but she hoped that they would keep him safe. The idea of never seeing him again was pulling at her heart.

"I don't believe this is Branson's fault, truly papa." Mary joined in.

"Blame me."

"I do blame you!" Robert yelled back at his youngest daughter.

"Robert, can we do this in the morning, Sybil needs rest."

"But if I find tomorrow that Branson is missing, I'll run away, I warn you." As the words tumbled out of her mouth, realisation hit Sybil. She meant every word.

This world has lost its glory; let's start a brand new story now, my love.

War. Branson supposed it was obvious in it's coming, but to actually hear the words was frightening. He knew he was cynical. Being Irish, he wasn't going to be swept up in a wave of patriotism, like William had already been. It would lead to glorified tales, of heroes dying, but what is right about death? About men killing other men for a purpose unbeknown to them? Tales of Bravery. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, he thought to himself. Following government orders like sheep.

But there were possibilities too. The world would be a different place, and the longer war dragged on, less and less would remain unaffected. Politics. Maybe the country would emerge as a new socialist state. Tom laughed at that, but anything was possible. And then there was Sybil. How far would social standings change? Was there a chance for them? Gwen had embarked on a new chapter of her life that very afternoon. Could they do the same? Start a brand new story?

Right now, there'll be no other time and I can show you how, my love.

Isobel had told her to acquire some basic skills before embarking on her nursing course and it hadn't taken her long to consider before she went down to the kitchen to bargain with Mrs Patmore. The younger maids had laughed at her inability and Mrs Patmore didn't seem to have the time of day to be bothering with one of the daughters of the house. Only Daisy had made her feel welcome, but the hostility of the others only made her more confident to prove them wrong and show them that she could learn. She also had to prove it to herself.

However it became more apparent as she spent more time downstairs that there was another practically to her new cooking skills. It was not in the foreground of her mind but she could imagine herself cooking for a husband. Maybe he would saunter in after a day at work and she could surprise him with a freshly baked cake. She also enjoyed a respite from the usual hierarchy of the house, feeling more as if she were amongst friends now with Daisy, Mrs Patmore, Branson…

The way he walked in and put his cup in the sink, all the while watching her as she added the final touches to her cake, sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't look up, but she could feel his presence and somehow he linked all her thoughts together. She wanted a future without the palaver of balls and dinners and social calls. Instead she wanted a purpose and a man by her side who would accept that. She just wished that she could have clarified all those thoughts without having to look at the chauffeur.

Talk in everlasting words, and dedicate them all to me.

"Not as hard as it is for me… I can't keep it in any longer… The world won't be the same place it was when it stated and I'll make something of myself… then Bet on me… And if your parents cast you off it won't be forever…I promise to devote every waking minute to your happiness." There. He'd said it. He had bitten the bullet and, well, sort of, proposed. It wasn't quite how he had imagined it, but then these things never were. His mind was whirring and he still couldn't quite believe he'd done it. He was prepared to dedicate the rest of his life to her and that was the truth.

The drive back to the Abbey felt like an eternity. Her answer echoed round his head: Flattered. He had never hated a word more. It tortured him for the whole journey. He didn't know how everything had gone so badly wrong. He had overstepped the formal boundaries of their respected roles by a long way, but Sybil had never really cared about any of that, had she? Doubts were creeping into his mind and he reconsidered resigning and getting out while he still had the prospect of a reference. But she had looked so heartbroken, almost panicked when he said he would leave. Had he imagined that or did it show that she really did care?

And I will give you all my life; I'm here if you should call to me.

"I'd wait forever." She knew he meant it. He was prepared to give up his entire future, for a small chance that she might accept him. But the chance wasn't as small as she had once thought.

"I'm not asking for forever," she said, stepping closer to him, "only a few more weeks." The expression on his face softened, and she couldn't help but smile back. She knew he would always be there for her. He had promised as much before, on the day Mary had caught them saying 'I'll stay at Downton until you want to run away with Me.' but up to this point she hadn't given him much hope. The ball was in her court and she hadn't been prepared to play fair. Now she was getting to the point where she was ready to sacrifice as much as he was prepared to. Her whole world and the only life she had known.

You think that I don't even mean a single word I say.

"Me?" He couldn't comprehend that she was actually here, answering his dreams.

"No, uncle Tom Cobley," she said in all seriousness, before laughing.

"I'm sorry," he must look pretty stupid now, "but I've waited so long for those words, I can't believe I'm hearing them. You won't mind burning your bridges?"

"Mind? Fetch me the matches!" They both breathed a laugh and he leant towards her still wondering if he was in fact dreaming. "Yes, you can kiss me, but that is all until everything is settled."

"For now, God knows, it's enough that I can kiss you."

~x~

"Go back with them then, if you think they can make you happier than I will."

"Am I so weak you believe I can be talked out of giving my heart in five minutes flat? But Mary's right. I don't like deceit and our parents don't deserve it, so I'll go back with them. Believe it or not I will stay true to you." She could sense him doubting her. They were so in sync that she knew, but after seven years of knowing each other, at least three years waiting for her and only a week of being sure of her, she was leaving him after five short minutes.

~x~

He was fuming, and once again it was after a run in with her family in a hotel room. Did her father honestly believe that he would leave Sybil for money? This had nothing to do with money. Could they not comprehend the simple fact that he was in love with her? Mary seemed to think from the beginning that it was all a joke and that Sybil would snap out of it. Luckily Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess were more concerned with the practicalities than the union itself. But it felt like nobody believed a word he was uttering.

It's only words, and words are all I have, to take your heart away.

"I do." Sybil couldn't help but wonder at the absurdity of the fact the two words could have such a large impact. They altered the rest of your life, gave you more rights and, in her case, upset families. The wedding had gone swimmingly well, with just a small attendance, but she was now joined to Tom and nothing would ever separate them again.

Thinking about it, as she walked down the aisle beside her husband, words were the only thing they'd ever had. From the first day he had spoken to her they had developed a friendship through words. They shared ideas, debated politics and talked about the future, but somewhere during their conversations Tom had taken her heart. With words they had fought for the acceptance of her family and ironically Tom had got a job as a journalist. Now the banns had been read, and they had made their vows, more important words to add to many others. Once they were outside the little church, Tom kissed her, reminding her that from now on words were no longer the only thing they had; they now had a future.

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