I've been wanting to write something SybilxBranson for a while now, and so I asked a friend if he had anything in mind he'd like to see. He asked for a snapshot of Sybil and Branson in Ireland and my mind went places. This is the result. I spent quite a large portion of last night writing it, though it's not very long, I'm sorry to say.I am not Irish, and the closest I've been to Ireland is Bath, England. I do sometimes fancy writing Irish characters, but do please excuse the dialect. If I manage to sound at least a tiny bit authentic, I'd like to thank James Joyce and his amazing anthology The Dubliners, which has enthralled me for quite a few days now.

Oh also, I did make the timeline a bit non-canon. Not too much though, hopefully it's blink and you miss it.

Disclaimer: Downton Abbey belongs to Julian Fellowes etc.

-The Brazen Bessie, Dublin

-Christmas of 1919

Celebrating Christmas Eve in a-rather cosy-Irish pub had not been an event Sybil thought she'd ever experience, but if she was quite honest with herself, this Christmas was the best she'd had in years. The Brazen Bessie was alive with the sounds of chatter and laughter of her new family, all of whom were, in the true spirit of Irish celebration, on their way to being completely drunk. Sybil thought she'd be uncomfortable tonight, what with her being so new to Tom's family and completely foreign to their traditions, but they were treating her as they would treat any family member: taunting her about Tom, his habits, and her own life decisions.

Honestly she couldn't believe she'd been accepted to the family so easily. She also couldn't believe she'd be enlarging it soon. She shuddered to think of it, no one knew about the baby yet, not even Tom. She didn't know when she would tell him, but she wanted the moment to be right. She glanced to where he was standing with his uncle-the pub's owner-and aunt, and found him looking at her, a small smile grazing his lips. She smiled back, biting her lips as he saluted her with his drink. He'd be happy, she knew it. She just didn't know how to tell him. For now, she tried to focus her attention on her own group of people. Currently that group of people consisted of just Eamon, Tom's youngest brother and the most drunk of the lot. He had an arm slung over her shoulders, his other cradling a pint of beer, and was set to relate to her, rather excitedly, some youthful adventure.

"Now this Nellie right? She comes over to where Tom an' me were standing, right? An' she looks right at Tommy right? An' she says to him 'I'm gonna be yer wife so ya better git me a ring' an' Tommy looks her up and down an' he says 'I ain't marryin' no broad!' an' she goes running off cryin' her eyes out. Funny thing is though, funny thing is, he was gone for her half his teenage years." He laughed for quite some time after he was done saying this. When he was done laughing, he looked at Sybil expecting her to be laughing as well and looking put out that he'd not received the reaction he'd hoped for. Sybil frantically searched her mind for a witty comment, or any sort of related reply, but she could think of nothing. The only reply she had was a strained smile, which Eamon didn't buy.

"Now don' be jealous lass, he gave up on her when she gone and got herself knocked up," he slurred.

"Leave the poor lass alone will you, ya dunce?" Sybil heard her mother-in-law bellow from across the room. She looked up just in time to see the tiny round Maria coming towards them with a determined expression. Sybil gave her a genuine smile; someone else was here to deal with the drunk Eamon. Thank God.

Maria removed Eamon's arm from Sybil's shoulders and pushed him away forcefully before turning back to Sybil. "You'll have to excuse that one, I think my Liam or Tommy dropped him on his head when he were a wee babe," she smiled. "Out of spite of course."

Sybil was surprised by the laugh that bubbled out of her. "I don't think it was Tom, oh he's too kind for that."

"This my boy you're talking about?" Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. "I think love's taken all your common sense lassie. My Tommy was anything but kind. Let me tell you about the time-"

Maria began to say but was interrupted by Isabel, Tom's older sister. The woman was making her way towards them, a baby in her arms, and regarding her mother with an exasperated look.

"Ma, are you telling poor Sybil about the time Liam and Tommy put Oscar in Eamon's lunch bag?"

Maria opened her mouth to answer, but Isabel continued on. "Because honestly ma, we're all sick to our stomachs of that story."

"Yea specially poor Oscar!" Liam, Tom's older brother, yelled from across the room.

"Hold your tongue!" Maria replied, then turning towards Sybil, she said, "Poor Oscar's been dead these past fifteen years."

"Oscar was the cat," Isabel provided in reply to Sybil's horrified expression.

"It was Liam who done brought about the end of my wee Oscar," Maria went on, a hint of moisture covering her eyes.

"Ma loved that cat twice as much as she loved any of her real babes," Liam said coming over to join the conversation. "I remember this once that bastard-"

"Language boy!" Maria screeched while both Sybil and Isabel giggled. "There are ladies about."

"I don't see any ladies," Liam said with a wink. "Only my baby sisters," he went on as his mother rolled her eyes. "Anyhow, I remember this once that bastard cat came over to-"

"Enough William, I will not listen to this nonsense," Maria cut in, glaring at her eldest son with enough force to make him flinch. "Now away with you if you won't honor the memory of the dead."

Liam nodded once, "yes ma," before diving away towards the booth his wife and children were occupying.

"And to think that one is almost forty years old," Maria said with a smirk.

"Ma you are truly diabolical," Isabel said laughing and Sybil joined in. Maria, however was bored with the conversation in a matter of seconds.

"Where's that blasted uncle of yours, I've a mind to turn about this dump to some music," she said before standing up and going in search of her brother.

Sybil found herself being dragged to the dance floor soon after Maria by none other than Liam. He'd asked Isabel if she'd like a round, but she'd shaken her head and pushed Sybil towards him. Sybil didn't protest. She'd loved dancing at balls, and although the atmosphere was decidedly different here, she knew she'd enjoy herself.

Liam began the dance by spinning her about and didn't really stop until the music was over. Sybil laughed her way through his lead and when he asked if she'd like to dance again, she replied with a convincing yes. The second round was much slower, and Sybil found that she could really keep her wits about her this time, enough for her to have an intelligent conversation with Liam.

"So, sister Sybil, how are you adjusting to Dublin?" he asked mildly.

"Very well, thank you."

"And my brother, how are you adjusting to him?" Liam continued.

Sybil smiled. "I don't know what you mean."

"What I mean is, that he's a slob, he snores, and he's a kicker. I should know, I had to share a bed with him for thirteen long years."

Sybil's smile grew. "I still don't know what you mean."

The song stopped and a new voice joined them.

"Will you stop trying to traumatize my wife? Poor gal's having a hard enough time as it is, spending Christmas Eve with the most ridiculous clan in the country, she doesn't need you telling her lies left and right."

And suddenly Tom was besides her, taking her away from William with a playful glare and nod of his head.

"The lass deserves to know the truth," William replied playfully.

"Yes and the truth is that you're a rotten liar," Tom said, taking Sybil in his embrace and turning to face his brother. "Now off with you, I think you're wife was saying something about little Oliver feeling a bit feverish."

And with that William was off.

Sybil danced with Tom until a very drunk Eamon took over the party by standing over the bar and making a toast. Sybil had to admit, even drunk, Eamon was quite a pleasant speaker. He toasted his dead father, his mother, his eldest brother Liam and his family, his older sister Isabel and hers. Then he got to Tom, and mentioned the two of them fighting growing up. That Tom was always the quite broody one and that "Honestly lad, I neve' thoght ye'd get some lass ta marry ya."

That was when he'd turned to Sybil.

"But, some lass was crazy enough ta marry ya, an' since she's the newest member of our family" Sybil blushed, "Now don' be modest dear, you are the newest member of our family," he said, noticing Sybil's embarrassment, from somewhere in the crowd, Sybil heard Isabel yell hear, hear before Eamon went on. "As I wa' sayin', since she's the newest member o' our family, we're going to hear a speech from Tommy's fancy British wife."

Sybil smiled, she was put on the spot, but she wasn't deterred. In fact, she was rather excited. She raised her glass, and was about to speak when a wave of nausea washed over her. Her hand came up to rest against Tom's arm as her body attempted to bend in half.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I'm feeling very well," she panted, trying to fight down the bile that threatened to overwhelm her senses.

Maria was by her side at once. "What's wrong love?" Maria asked.

"Nothing, I'm just a feeling a bit ill," she replied.

"Sybil?" That was Tom's voice.

"I just need a bit of fresh her," she said before setting her glass down and running out the door.

Of course Tom would follow her out. She should have known it the moment she proclaimed herself ill and hurried out of the pub. She'd barely felt the cool air against her skin when the pub's door opened and closed and he was besides her, one hand on her waist. He had opened his mouth to say something when another wave of nausea hit her and she doubled over, clutching her mouth with her right hand.

He spoke then, hovering over her, not knowing exactly what to do.

"Sybil darling, what's the matter? Shall we call the doctor?"

She waved his questions away with her hand, and stood up, the need to heave her dinner having left her. "I'm fine really, just an upset stomach."

He relaxed a bit at her words, but pressed on. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she replied.

He smiled at her, some of the pressure leaving his shoulders. "We can go home now, if you're tired. You don't have to put up with my loony family for much longer."

She shook her head, laughing out loud. Often, at random moments, she found herself marveling at how regularly she laughed in her new life. To her it was a true miracle.

"No, I love your family. They're much more fun to be around than my own."

"Though a lot more judgmental," he replied with a grin.

"I daresay they are," she paused then, looking at him through the light of the streetlamp. A moment ago, she'd marveled at the enormity of the times she laughed in her new life, now she marveled at how in love with him she truly was. She loved him so dearly, for the new life he'd given her, for his love of her, but most of all, she loved him for being an equal partner to her.

"Tom," she said swallowing the lump of nervousness in her throat, "there's something I ought to tell you."

"What is it?" he asked, stepping closer to her and putting his arms on her waist.

"The truth is, tonight's not the first time I've been sick like this," she continued, avoiding his eyes. "Truth is, it's been happening for a while."

"Oh god," she heard him mutter and was alarmed at the anxiety in his voice.

"No there's nothing the matter with me, I promise," she reassured, looking up at him with a smile. He did look comforted a bit at that. "Just that..."

"Well go on before my poor heart gives out," he said eagerly. "Or do you fancy a dead husband?"

Sybil looked away again before replying. "Oh no I wouldn't want that. How would I raise a baby as a lonesome mother?" she asked, raising her gaze to meet his.

He looked as if he would reply, then realized what she had said and froze. She watched him carefully as he opened his mouth once, twice, three times and closed it time after time without saying anything. His hands left her waist, found it again and squeezed. He closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath, then an unbelieving laugh. This time when he opened his mouth, words came out.

"Did you say baby?" he asked incredulously.

"I might have, yes. What of it?"

"Well it's just that..." He crashed his mouth against hers as a means to finish the sentence. She kissed him back, feeling a laugh escape her as she did so. Then, just as suddenly as he had started kissing her, he let her go and began pacing in front of her.

"A baby! A baby! I can't believe it," he stopped and gripped her shoulders. "We're to have a baby?"

"Yes, Tom, indeed we are," she replied, laughing again. She simply could not keep the laughter in.

"Sybil a baby. We're to be parents," he continued excitedly.

"I gather you're pleased?" she asked.

"Pleased doesn't even begin to describe it, love," he replied kissing her again. "I'm elated, ecstatic, absolutely beside myself with joy."

She giggled. "I thought you would be."

"But how long have you known?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh... Um... Just a week," she replied, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. "I started to feel sick in the morning. Not when we woke up, but at the hospital. Then my monthly bleeding didn't come when it was supposed to, and I was starting to suspect so I asked Dr. Moran and he said that of course the only explanation is that I'm with child. Though just to be sure, he had a midwife check me."

"And you didn't think you should tell me?" he asked.

"Of course I wanted to tell you, I was just waiting for the right time," she answered, still avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled, reaching out a hand to her cheek. "Chin up, love, I'm not mad."

"You aren't?" She asked, taking a step towards him.

"Not at all. Anyhow, you've picked a great time to tell me," he said gathering her in his arms and resting his forehead against hers. "It is the best Christmas present I could have asked for."

"Thank you," she replied, kissing him again.

"What for?"

"For keeping true to your promise, for making me happy."

"Of course love, if I hadn't, I'd be very cross with myself."

He gripped her tighter and held her to him. They stood there for some time, holding each other until Sybil felt something wet land on her face. She opened her eyes to see small white flakes falling from the sky, dancing in the air.

"Tom," she whispered. "It's snowing."

He stepped back and looked at the sky. "Indeed it is," he said, then added with a smile, "shall we go inside?"

"And tell your family they're to have yet another member?"

"Do you think you're ready for that level of insanity?"

"I daresay I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she sighed. "Plus, how bad can it really be?"

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea," he teased. "But, let's go inside and tell me mother she's to be a grandmother again." He put his hand on her back and opened the door for her. "After you, Lady Sybil."

She swatted at him halfheartedly before walking inside the pub. Tom's family would be happy at the news, she knew it, and as Sybil made herself ready to repeat the good news, she tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head that asked how her own family would react, once they were told the same news.

I hope you enjoyed it, reviews are always welcome.