"The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea."
Anne Morrow Lindbergh

It takes him longer to work on the car, no doubt due to a young lady named Sybil Crawley.

He's still overwhelmed by the morning's events but every time he finds her grinning at him, he knows that he's completely captivated by her. To his surprise, she's inquisitive about the work, asking questions about the engines, the tools he uses and why. She stands close to him, peering over his shoulder and when he jokes that she'll get her dress dirty, she gives him a quick peck on the cheek before replying, "Are you trying to get me out of my dress, Mr Branson?"

He nearly chokes on his saliva as his cheeks turn a furious shade of red and she chortles. His mind is racing with thoughts of what she must look like, of what she must feel like under the layers of clothing.

"Are you blushing?" Sybil teases and he quickly shakes his head.

Raising an eyebrow, he says, "Are you trying to seduce me, milady?"

She sides up next to him and bats her eyelashes, "Do you want me to?" She stands on her tiptoes and just as her lips are about to brush his, they hear a cough.

"Fancy that," says Andrews as he comes towards them. "Looks like you two have kissed and made up."

Sybil backs away from Tom and shakes her head, although a smile is visible. "Mr Andrews, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Nor did I," Andrews pauses, "but then I did hear Lady Edith that you were sick and your poor mother was worried that you might get even worse, walking around the ship. I volunteered to keep an eye out for you."

Tom stifles a laugh as he realizes the lengths that Sybil has gone too to spend time with him. If anything, it proves to him that all this is worth it. That she is worth it.

"I am sick, though," Sybil says quickly. She gives a measly cough and Tom can't help but chortle. He stops immediately when she glares at him though.

"And I suppose you mistook the storage for the infirmary?" Andrews suggests, although it's obvious from the gleam in his eye that he's amused by the situation.

"Precisely," Sybil says. "And Mr Branson said that he would assist me to the infirmary once his shift is over."

"I see," Andrews states. "Is this right, Tom?"

Tom nods his head. "Of course. We can't have Lady Sybil getting worse, can we?"

"Well, I should let you know that your father is looking for you, Lady Sybil," Andrews says and instantly, Tom stiffens. He digs his hand into his pocket and he feels the thin slice of folded paper.

Sybil sighs and says, "Oh then…" She looks up at Tom and even though, she can tell that his mood has changed, he still gives her a small smile.

"You should go," he says softly.

Sybil turns to Andrews and he motions for the doorway. "I'll wait outside for you," he says before leaving the two alone.

"I don't want any trouble from Papa," Sybil says, raising her hand to cup Tom's cheek. "Apparently, after we left the table last night, he went silent the whole dinner. I'd much prefer him to be in rage, to be honest."

"You love your father very much."

"Of course I do," she replies. "I may not agree with him on most things, but he's my father." She picks up on the way his eyes avoid hers and she asks, "Is something wrong?"

Tom shakes his head. He places a kiss on her forehead and lifts the tip of her chin up. "You're wonderful, Sybil. You manage to see the good in everyone."

Sybil beams. "Are you sure you're fine? Maybe I need to take you to the infirmary."

When he's done laughing, she gives him that long awaited kiss that Andrews interrupted. It's deeper, much longer than their other kisses and when he pulls away, she groans.

"Andrews is waiting for you," he says. "You shouldn't keep him waiting."

Sticking her bottom lip out, she replies, "Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Never."

"Good," she smirks, "meet me later?"

He sucks his lips in, tilting his head as though his thinking and she smacks his arm. "Alright," he chuckles. "Just tell me where and when and I'll be there."

"Meet me here tonight after dinner?"

Tom nods and she gives him one last kiss before walking away. Once he's by himself, Tom pulls out the cheque and stares at it.

"Finally, my brother returns," Kieran says as Tom steps into the room. "Oh, I know that face. That's not your happy face." He watches his younger brother dig into their bags, pulling out a spare pair of pants.

"Look at you getting all dressed up again. Do I need to guess who you're going to see," Kieran says as he sits up from his bed. "So now you're ignoring me, are you?"

"I'm not ignoring you," Tom replies, sighing as he changes his clothes. "I just have a lot on my mind."

His brother groans and falls back onto the bed. "Let me guess. A certain Lady Sybil? Tom, she's a great gal, but how many times do I need to tell you. She ain't the one for you."

Tom sits down on Albert's empty bed and puts his head into his hands. He ruffles his hair and then shakes his head, before asking, "If you had a choice between love and money, what would you do?"

The question surprises Kieran and he sits back up. "Why are you asking that?"

"I just need an answer," Tom says, "Hypothetically, if you were given money to leave someone you care about, would you take it? Especially if the money could give you something that you really want?"

Kieran takes some time to think about the question before finally, he answers honestly, "Well, you wouldn't really care for them if the money was tempting you. You can't put a price on love."

"Does it make a bad person to want both?"

"It depends," Kieran says, "How much were you offered?"

Tom raises his head and eyes his brother. He's thought about telling his brother about the cheque ever since Lord Grantham left it, but now that the thought was real, he makes a decision.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tom lies, "I was talking hypothetically."

Kieran raises an eyebrow, but folds his arms over his chest. He grunts and stands up, reaching for his jacket before he heads to the door. "Priorities change in life," Kieran pauses, "and this is purely hypothetical – but lovers, they come and go. The only comfort in life is a person's sense of home. It's better to have what you need than chase after what you want."

Sybil doesn't arrive outside of the storage room until past nine, but to her surprise she finds that Tom isn't there. She enters - the door having been left unlocked - and finds herself in darkness, trying to successfully navigate her way through the objects.

"Ouch," she cries out when she bangs her knee on a piece of luggage and she kicks it with her other foot in retaliation. Serves the object right.

When she reaches the Renault that Tom has been servicing, she presses her hands on its outside until she finds the door handle and climbs in. She wonders if he's been down here already and maybe, she's just missed him. Wrapping her hands around her arms, she shivers as she realises that she was foolish for not bringing a shawl. She waits in the eerie silence and just as she's about to leave the car, the lights turn on and she raises her head, peering through the door window.

A smile graces her lips as Tom makes his way to the car, his head lowered and he crawls down in the seat so that she's no longer in his view. She can see the back of his body as he leans against the car window and slowly she props herself up and knocks on the glass. As he turns around, surprised by the sound, she sticks her tongue out and laughs as he does the same.

"I thought you I had missed you," Sybil says as Tom slides in next to her. "Dinner ran awfully late and Papa wouldn't let me out of his sight."

"Was Larry there?" Tom asks, the disdain obvious in his voice, and Sybil nods.

"Surprisingly, Papa and him talked quite a lot at dinner. I'm not quite sure what about but," she bit her lip seductively, "then again, I don't want to be talking about them."

He raises an eyebrow and before she knows it, his lips meet hers and all thoughts of Larry Grey and Lord Grantham are easily discarded. Their kisses intensify and her body warms to feeling of his as he moves on top of her. He begins a trail of kisses down her neck leading to the exposed skin atop the cleavage of her dress and to her surprise, she grumbles when he stops suddenly.

He looks up at her, his eyes riddled with unease and he leans back, pulling away from her.

"I can't," he mumbles.

Sybil shifts, pulling the sleeves of her dress back up. Her hair is hanging at her side and she looks down at the ground, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I thought I knew what I was I doing-"

Tom's head snaps in her direction and his mouth is wide open as he realises what she's trying to say. "Oh god, no! Sybil, dear, you're wonderful," he says and he gently takes hold of her chin and moves her head so that she's facing him.

Sybil nods when Tom lets go of her and she watches as he sinks into his seat.

"I just – I just," he stops and runs his hand through his hair. "What does this mean to you?"

She tilts her head, but still, he can tell that she doesn't understand so he tries again.

"When the ship docks in New York, what will happen to us?"

Sybil grows silent and sits back in her seat, tapping her fingers on her thigh. She's thought about this - really she has - but every time the question arose, she would always disregard it. The truth of the matter was that when the ship docked, he would find a way back to Ireland. It saddened her, but she knew that asking him to stay in New York for her – a woman he only met three days ago – was ridiculous.

"I like what we have," she says. "I've never felt this way about anyone before."

Tom takes her hands into his and he places a kiss on them before rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. "I'm the same," he says, offering her a smile. "I was wondering if you would bet on me."

Her lips curl and she asks, "What does that mean?"

"It means that we have four days left on this ship and things for us, they're grand. They really are. We spend the rest of our days here getting to know each other and then the night before the ship docks, we make a decision," Tom answers. He cups her face with his hand and she closes her eyes as she takes in the softness of his skin.

"Four days isn't that long," Sybil whispers.

"It's all we have to figure out if you'd spend a lifetime with me."

Sybil smirks and opens her eyes. "You're so sure of things, aren't you?"

Tom nods. He sticks his hand out and she eyes him curiously. "My name's Tom Branson," he says.

She takes his hand and shakes it bountifully, moving her head along as well. "I'm Sybil Crawley."

"Can I tell you something, Sybil?"

"I actually prefer being called Lady Sybil but I suppose I can make an exception for you," she banters and he scoots closer, pressing his forehead against hers. She whispers, "I suppose you can tell whatever it is you wish to say."

Tom's blue eyes look into hers and he says with the utmost certainty in his voice, "I think you're absolutely beautiful."

A/N: Hopefully you guys are still enjoying! Sorry for any mistakes. If you guys have any questions, feel free to ask :)