Here's my answer to the "Across-the-Rubicon's" latest Sybil/Tom sexytimes challenge: Anywhere At Work! This idea has been brewing in my mind for quite some time, and when the challenge came to pass, I knew it was time to make it so! And there's a little Christmas twist to it as well ;o) MERRY CHRISTMAS Sybil/Tom fans!
"For the Girl Who Has Everything"
by The Yankee Countess
Christmas Day, 1918
"But it's Christmas!"
Sybil groaned and rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware of that Mama! But Christmas didn't just come to Downton! It's Christmas at the hospital too, and they need me down there!"
"Oh this is ridiculous," her father muttered. "Can't someone else go?"
Sybil shook her head. "They're short staffed as it is and they need the help. I'm sorry that this 'ruins' your holiday plans, but perhaps now you will appreciate the hard work that people like hospital workers must go through, and the sacrifices they make to ensure that everyone have a happy Christmas, not just those of us who live in the big house!"
She knew her family was watching her leave with fallen mouths and wide eyes. Let them, she thought. Let them gasp and groan and ask themselves "where did we go wrong?" I'm done caring. And once again, she was filled with even more longing to leave that house and all its silly rules behind. And perhaps travel to an emerald isle…where I can be whatever I wish, except "Lady" Sybil Crawley…where I can be Mrs.—
She paused just before she entered the Servant's Hall. She smoothed her dress and glanced at her reflection in the glass of a picture, perhaps giving her cheeks a slight pinch, before taking a deep breath, and entering. All of the servants were wearing their paper hats and popping crackers, enjoying what looked to be a most scrumptious feast. Indeed, their Christmas celebration looked much more enjoyable than the all the ones she had attended upstairs throughout her life.
"Lady Sybil!" Carson gasped, standing and suddenly everyone in the room was standing with him.
"Oh please, please, there's no need to get up, please…" she smiled at them all and then looked to the one man she had come to see, heat rising in her cheeks as she met his eyes. "I beg your pardon, but…Branson, I'm afraid I need a ride to the hospital."
"Oh, and on Christmas Day?" Mrs. Hughes gasped, looking shocked and pained like her mother.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," she murmured. "And I'm sorry to drag you away, Branson—"
"Not at all, milady," he said with a dutiful bow of his head. "I quite understand and will bring the car around."
"Oh no need for that, I'll just go to the garage with you," she turned then to follow him out the servant's entrance. "And I hope you all have a very merry holiday!"
They smiled and thanked her, really only sitting until after she left. Branson held the door open for her, and Sybil walked outside, murmuring a small "thank you" as they walked in silence to the garage…and only until she knew for a fact that they were out of eyesight…did she throw herself at him.
Tom was completely taken by surprise…however, he didn't protest.
Sybil was in his arms, her mouth was pressed against his, and her tongue (dear God, he would always be thankful that he taught her how to kiss like that!) was insisting entrance. Well, who was he to deny her?
"Mmmmmmmm…" she moaned into his mouth as the kiss deepened and she felt his tongue slide along hers. His arms moved around her too, and Sybil gasped as she felt them slide down her body and cup her rump and squeeze it. "Tom…" she whimpered as his lips began to move across her cheek, and descend down her neck. "I…I really do need to go to the hospital, I'm afraid…" she moaned, leaning her neck just slightly, offering him more access.
He continued kissing and gently nibbling on the flesh of her neck and throat, while speaking. "And here I thought you were luring me out to the garage to seduce me," he growled, earning a gasp and giggling from her. With great reluctance, but great strength…he sighed and moved his head away. His arms, however, remained wrapped around her. "A shame you have to spend Christmas at the hospital."
Sybil shrugged her shoulders, before nestling her head against his chest, smiling and happy to have his warmth around her. "It may not be how many people wish to celebrate the birth of Our Lord, but…surprisingly, I don't mind. Perhaps because it makes me wonder if this is what it will be like…next Christmas…?"
Tom looked down at her and Sybil nibbled her bottom lip and smiled up at him. They had both agreed that when the New Year began, and the last of the patients from the Convalescent Home had left…that was when they would make their move.
"Well, I hope you don't spend every Christmas working a Dublin hospital," he joked. "I'd like to think there will be some Christmas mornings where I don't have to let you out of bed…not for a very, very long time…"
"Tom!" she gasped, blushing deeply. He only chuckled, which sounded very much like one of his feral growls, the sort he made when his desire was very high. And judging from the hard bulge she was feeling throbbing against her abdomen, Sybil knew that his desire was indeed, very, very high.
"Just sharing my hopes for next Christmas…" he chuckled, kissing her cheek before finally letting her go.
The day had been excruciating on her feet. With only so many nurses available, she had to do the job of at least four, which meant she hardly had the opportunity to sit and relax. Her only saving grace was the young volunteer nurse named Jenny, a girl who had only turned sixteen, and was still a little squeamish and naïve about the way a hospital worked, but who was eager to help. Jenny would rush and fetch supplies for her if she needed anything, and because she was so young, she stayed close to Sybil, watching her work, and helping when it was needed, from making beds to sponge-bathing patients. Yes, Sybil had a feeling that without Jenny's help that day, she would be lost.
"I'm sorry you were dragged away from your Christmas celebrations," Sybil said to the girl at one point during the day.
"Oh! Oh no, milady—I mean, Nurse Crawley, I don't mind. But…but I'm sorry you were taken from your grand Christmas at Downton Abbey."
She smiled at the girl and shook her head. "They're not as grand as people think."
They continued their work well into the evening. Sybil's back was really starting to protest every time she bent down to change sheets or pick up a used bedpan. Her shift would be over soon, and while a part of her was very glad indeed for the respite, another part of her was happy she had come and spent her Christmas at the hospital. It's as far from a Downton Christmas as I can imagine, and if I close my eyes, I can imagine this being next Christmas…in Dublin…finishing a shift before coming home to Tom and sitting by a fire, our arms wrapped around—
"Merry Christmas, milady…"
Sybil jumped by the sudden hot breath that blew against the back of her neck, and the sensual Irish brogue that filled her ear. She turned quickly, gasping at seeing him standing before her, his hands professionally clasped behind his back, his uniform looking as impeccable as always. "Tom!" she blushed, glancing around her to make sure no one else had heard. Jenny had gone to take some old bed sheets to the laundry room, and none of the other nurses working nearby seemed to notice. She cleared her throat then and took a careful step back, once again putting up the silly charade. "Branson…" she addressed, trying to look every bit "lady of the manor". "I did not expect you so soon."
Tom gave a rather dramatic bow, clearly playing up the charade as well. "Forgive me, milady, I am early…" he lifted his eyes then…and Sybil felt her heart thud wildly at…the strange and secretive look he was giving her. "I thought I would give you your Christmas present."
Why she was blushing so brightly, why her knees suddenly felt weak, why there was a strange tremble spreading throughout her body…she didn't know. Well, that wasn't entirely true, she did know (and his name was Tom Branson) but…he was up to something. She could tell.
She grabbed his wrist then, and tugged him after her, much to his surprise. She tugged him all the way up to the third floor, where one of the lesser used supply cupboards lay. She opened the door, looked down the corridor quickly to make sure no one had seen them…and then pulled him inside, before quickly shutting the two of them there.
"Milady!" he gasped, his surprise over the top for humor's sake, but it was obvious that she had surprised him by pulling him in there. Not that he was complaining. His arms were already snaking their way around her.
Sybil swatted at his chest. "Tom!" she hissed, looking rather furious. "We promised each other, no presents! Remember?"
He sighed and nodded his head. "Aye, I remember."
She swatted him again. "We're saving what money we have for our life together in Dublin!"
"I know—will you stop swatting me?"
She groaned and rolled her eyes at him. The cupboard was dark, but there just enough light streaming through the tiny cracks in the door for her to make out his face. "Then what is this talk about presents?"
"If it makes you feel any better, I didn't spend any money on it…"
But this only caused Sybil to groan again. "Oh God, that means you made something! Which is worse, because I didn't make you anything—"
"I didn't make you something," he interrupted. "And second of all, you giving me your love…and accepting my proposal…that was all I ever wanted," he lifted one of her hands to his lips and Sybil shivered as he kissed pulse-point of her inner wrist.
"Then…then what do you mean about…giving me my Christmas present?"
That look she had seen earlier…it was back. Only…it was darker…and more intense than before. Not sinister, nothing like that…but…incredibly seductive. Her toes were curling, the shivers running down her spine increased, and there was a strange, delicious tightness, weaving around her core. She swallowed and didn't realize until her back hit the crate behind her, that she had been backing away towards the wall.
"Sybil…" he murmured her name, closing the gap between them. "Remember…last week?"
Her mouth fell open at his words. Oh Lord, how could she forget?
She had ordered the motor to take her into Ripon…but it had all been a ruse to get away from the house…and to get some time alone with him. They were kissing a great deal now…ever since the Armistice. Sybil had run out to his cottage, so happy with the news that the War had ended, that before she knew it, she had her arms around him and her lips pressed against his. Yes, it was a surprise to them both…but what wasn't so surprising was how they both responded to her impulse. Tom enfolded her and let his passions out, finally, kissing her back intensely, nearly robbing her of her breath. They kissed that day, and continued stealing kisses from each other whenever the chance appeared. Sybil discovered that she liked kissing…very, very much. And…twenty-one seemed to be awfully long time for a girl to wait to be kissed, so she felt she had a great deal of catching up to do. And Tom seemed to share her thoughts, especially since he had been waiting for her to accept his love and proposal for so many years! They kissed all sorts of kisses…and the caresses naturally followed. Both Tom's kisses and caresses left her wanting more, and her body always felt like it was on fire wherever he touched her, be it with his fingers or his lips. Of course…that all changed last week. Last week…the fire he had started became an inferno!
After they had driven a safe distance from the house and village, Tom parked the car behind a willow tree and soon they were both in the backseat, kissing again, touching again…only this time, Sybil encouraged his hands to touch her in places he hadn't touched her before…but she had been longing to feel him touch.
His hands cupped her breasts, and Sybil gasped and arched her back to feel more. His lips trailed hot, fiery kisses along her neck…and across her collarbone…while one of his hands squeezed the mound of her right breast, causing the nipple to strain against the fabric, desperate for his attention…and the other hand…moved down her hip and clutched it. Some strange instinct seemed to take control of her then…because she lifted her leg, and began to wrap it around his body. This of course caused her skirt to fall back…allowing Tom the chance to touch her stocking-covered leg and caress the flesh there. Sybil moaned and whimpered…while his hand traveled higher up her leg…until it was beneath her skirts…and she held her breath…as his fingers brushed against her moistening knickers…causing her to tremble and gasp.
She had stopped him then. It had been just too much, and that tightness she had been feeling was growing to a point where her body felt…strange. Deliciously, wonderfully strange, yes, but…she knew it was too much. Of course, that wasn't to say she hadn't been thinking about it ever since…or dreaming about it.
Now she was trembling at the sweet memory. "Of course I remember…"
Tom smiled and looked down, his hands around her, running up and down her spine, pulling her closer to his body…and she gasped as once again, she felt the evidence of his desire for her. "I love you…" he whispered, his forehead touching hers.
She blushed and smiled at this. "And I love you," she whispered back.
"I want to show you how much I love you…" he continued.
This caused another tremble to course through her. "What…what do you mean?"
"And I was thinking, 'what can a man give to such a woman? For the girl who has everything…'," he paused and brushed a dark curl from her face. "So…I want to give you something…" he murmured. "Something that…that I'm fairly positive you've never had."
She nibbled on her bottom lip. "How can you be sure?"
He smiled then, a wicked smile that had her toes curling. "Well, I'm certain that you've never had it like this…" he grinned, his lips brushing against her cheek.
She was melting against him, her imagination running wild. "You're very sure of yourself," she gasped, feeling his hands run down to her rump like they had that morning. "Tom…are you sure?"
"God yes," he groaned. "Sybil, I just want to show you how much I love you…I want to do this for you…" he was shaking in her arms, and she was amazed, again, at the "power" she apparently had over him. However, his grip around her loosened slightly. "But I respect your wishes too. I won't push you—"
"No! No, it's not that," she blushed, holding him even tighter. "I…I just worry about you…" she nibbled her bottom lip. While she was ignorant in some ways when it came to the physical acts of expressing love, Sybil knew enough about the male anatomy to know that…things could sometimes be rather difficult…for men. And she didn't want Tom to be in pain.
He smiled and kissed her lips, sweetly, tenderly. "Believe me, to do this for you…the pleasure it gives me—the very thought of it…" he paused, a groan escaping his throat. "Please, Sybil…I love you; I want do this for you…"
She wanted it too. God, her curiosity for what he meant was driving her crazy! "Alright…" she whispered at last. "I suppose that can also be my Christmas present to you?"
He grinned and kissed her again. Her hands moved around the back of his neck and tangled in his hair as the kiss deepened even more. His hands, which had returned to her rump, were squeezing the flesh…and Sybil gasped as he suddenly picked her up, and she found herself sitting atop the crate.
"Tom?"
"I'm here, love…" he whispered against her lips, before his own began to kiss down her neck. "I'm always here…"
"JENNY!"
The girl jumped at the rather harsh voice of Nurse Daniels, the head hospital nurse. "Y-y-yes?" she stammered, feeling very flustered whenever the head nurse was around.
"Where is Nurse Crawley?"
Jenny's eyes widened. "I…I thought she was—"
"Her shift ended twenty-minutes ago, and she should be back at Downton now; I just received a telephone call from the house! Apparently her Ladyship is frantic because Nurse Crawley spent her entire Christmas here, instead of with them…" Nurse Daniels sounded very annoyed…although from what Jenny could tell, it wasn't so much at Nurse Crawley.
"I don't like receiving such telephone calls where I am snapped at like a small child," she muttered through gritted teeth. "And after I hung up, I looked outside and see a car which can only be from Downton Abbey, which means that she is still here! Now go and find her and send her on her way so I don't have to deal with any more telephone calls like that!"
Jenny nodded her head and quickly turned on her heel. She began searching every room, trying to see if Nurse Crawley was in any of those. But while there were nurses in those rooms, none of them were the nurse she was searching for. She continued her search, asking along the way if any of the nurses had seen Nurse Crawley. She didn't dare ask Dr. Clarkson as he made his rounds; she didn't want to get Nurse Crawley into any trouble. Onward she continued, climbing the stairs and checking; still no sign of her. Jenny's feet were aching, and she was growing frustrated and even a little worried. What had happened to her?
And then she heard a strange sound.
What…what on earth…?
It sounded like…moaning?
Jenny's brow furrowed and she turned her head to where the sound was coming from. It sounded like…it was somewhere behind the walls!
She moved closer to the wall…and followed the sound. It seemed to be getting louder and louder the further down the corridor she went, until she was standing just outside…the supply cupboard?
Jenny glanced to her right and to her left. Hardly anyone came up here, and this store cupboard was barely used. She leaned closer…practically pressing her ear to the door, and gasped as she heard a distinct feminine voice cry out.
"OH GOD! YES! YES! RIGHT THERE! MOVE YOUR TONGUE…THERE!"
Jenny jumped away, her eyes wider than saucers. What was…who was…?
…Surely that wasn't…?
"MORE…ooooohhhhhh yes, yes, YES! I WANT MORE! PLEASE DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP!"
Oh gracious…that sounded like Nurse Crawley! And…whatever was happening to her…well, she clearly wasn't crying out for help!
Jenny was blushing furiously, and decided to hide in one of the empty nearby rooms, and act as a lookout in case any other doctor or nurse came up there. The last thing Nurse Crawley needed in a moment like this was for someone to open the cupboard doors and find her…well, in a rather shocking state.
Sybil moaned, her head thrown back and thrashing back and forth against the wall behind her. Her body was vibrating, her toes were curled, her legs were shaking, and her hips were shockingly thrusting forward, eager to meet each stroke and lap.
Her skirts were pushed up to her waist…and down, hanging around her left ankle was her knickers. Her fingers were curled and tangled in the strands of Tom's hair…which happened to be nestled between her legs. And speaking of her legs, both of them had been thrown over his shoulders, letting him get closer…much, much closer than Sybil had ever imagined.
His hands were now holding her hips, encouraging her to move and thrust against his tongue. Earlier they had been caressing and squeezing her breasts through her uniform, playfully pinching her nipples and causing her to moan. But now they held her there, bringing her even closer and closer to his mouth, which was bringing her closer and closer to that wonderful trembling peak that she could feel growing in the pit of her core.
It had started out as a passionate kiss…and then his mouth began to descend, down her neck, to her throat. She wondered if he was going to unbutton her uniform (she had fantasies about him touching her breasts with his lips) but while he kissed the mounds through the fabric, he did not unbutton her dress. Instead he continued kissing down her body, over her clothes…and she then realized he was lifting her skirts, lifting them higher and higher…and then she felt his fingers, once again, at her center.
"TOM!" she had gasped, but unlike the last time, she didn't stop him. She felt his fingers hook into her knickers, and while a part of her screamed that she shouldn't, that this wasn't what "fine aristocratic ladies" should do, she lifted her hips just slightly, allowing him to peel her knickers down her body. Fine, aristocratic ladies shouldn't accept marriage proposals from chauffeurs, either; ah well—she never thought she made a very good aristocrat anyway.
"Trust me?" he breathed against her body, and despite her trembling at allowing him such intimacy in seeing like this, she nodded her head…and gasped as he slowly spread her legs…and then draped them over his shoulders. The next thing she knew…his head was disappearing under the folds of her skirt…and his lips were carefully kissing the inside of her thigh…before moving up to her center.
That was when she threw her head back. The moment his lips touched her there, and then his tongue licked her, sliding up and down, like a kitten licking cream from the bowl. He growled against her body…and buried his head even closer, his lips and tongue teasing her, licking her, stroking her, and she was shaking and moaning and thrashing, and then practically screaming as his tongue settled up around the nub at the crown of her womanhood, flicking across it, before wrapping his lips around it and sucking it gently into his mouth.
"OH GOD! YES! YES! RIGHT THERE! MOVE YOUR TONGUE…THERE!" His voice was muffled against her body, but he seemed to be growling his approval at her telling him what she liked. Oh God, what she LOVED! She was shaking, something was happening to her, building more and more and it was getting better and better. "MORE…ooooohhhhhh yes, yes, YES! I WANT MORE! PLEASE DON'T STOP! PLEASE DON'T STOP!" He shook his head between her legs, as if answering her question and telling her he wouldn't. Oh goodness, the sensation of him shaking his head, and his mouth never ceasing to pleasure her, because that was exactly what h was doing, driving her mad with pleasure!
And then, suddenly, like a tidal wave rising above the ocean, the pleasure crashed all around her, and Sybil's mouth fell open and her eyes went wide and her head hit the back of the wall and her limbs tensed…as her body trembled and shook while wave after wave of the most beautiful and delicious pleasure washed over her.
"OOooohhhhhh Tom…" she moaned, whimpering as she continued to tremble. Tom continued his ministrations, not ceasing, but not working as vigorously as he had been, just a few seconds ago. Indeed, his tongue continued to lap at her, but the licks were long and sensuous…like he was grooming her clean, in a sense. Her limbs went slack, and she could hear Tom chuckle against her body as he gave a few final kisses to her…before straightening himself and lifting his head.
The sight of him caused her to blush brighter than she had ever blushed before. Should she feel ashamed for what she had just allowed him to do? No…no, she wasn't ashamed or embarrassed. Although she couldn't stop blushing at her wanton behavior, something she knew he loved. And judging from the proud smile he was wearing, she knew he would be teasing her about this for a very long time.
"Happy Christmas, my darlin'," he murmured, his accent thick and causing her toes to curl even more than when he had been pleasuring her.
"Indeed," she panted, blushing deeply.
"NURSE CRAWLEY!"
Sybil gasped, and Tom quickly helped her off the crate. In her struggles to right her skirts, her knickers had fallen off her ankle and onto the floor. Tom scooped them up and before the doors of the cupboard were opened, stuffed them inside his pocket.
"Jenny!" Sybil squeaked, praying her hair wasn't sticking out in every which way. "I um…I was getting some supplies, and needed Branson's help in lifting some of the heavy boxes—"
"I understand, milady," Jenny whispered. "Um…her Ladyship called, wondering why you hadn't come back to Downton yet," the girl explained.
Sybil groaned and shook her head. "Thank you, Jenny; I'll be going home right away." She then leaned in and whispered in the girl's ear, "Please…let's keep this between ourselves?"
Jenny's brow furrowed. "Keep what, milady? You were fetching supplies and needed the Downton chauffeur's help, yes?"
Sybil stared at the girl and a slow smile spread across her face. "Yes…yes, exactly."
Jenny grinned and nodded her head, before turning and walking ahead of them.
"That was close," Tom whispered. "Think we can trust her?"
Sybil blushed but nodded her head. "Yes…I think we're safe. But we better hurry back, before Mama has Carson send a search party." She held her hand out, waiting for him to return her knickers, but he only grinned and shook his head. "Tom!" she hissed. "Give those back!"
"I'm sorry, milady," he winked, patting his pocket. "I take back what I said about exchanging presents. I think it's only fair that I hold onto mine."
Christmas Eve, 1921
Jenny groaned as the all too familiar sounds began to waft through the corridor of the third floor. Honestly…
She was a trained nurse now; having attended the very college in York that Nurse Crawley (now Nurse Branson) had attended during the War. She had a permanent place at the Downton village hospital, and was very thrilled to have Nurse Crawley (Branson) return to the staff, after both she and her husband had to flee Ireland and seek asylum in Yorkshire until things were calmer.
But really…this was too much!
Apparently Nurse Branson was supposed to be back at Downton for dinner nearly an hour ago, but there was still no sign of her. Upon hearing this news, Jenny didn't even bother to alert the head nurse, she simply poked her head outside, noticed a rather familiar looking car, and proceeded to climb the stairs to the third floor.
She waited in the next room, which thankfully was empty, and more or less twiddled her thumbs until she heard the obvious sounds of…completion. Then, she heard what could only be the sounds of fabric being righted. Now, she moved forward and gently knocked on the door. "Nurse Branson?"
A few mumbled curse words were uttered, followed by some mumbled laughter. More sounds of shoes and fabric were heard, before finally the doors opened. Both Nurse Branson and her husband were standing there, flushed bright red, but grinning like a pair of idiots.
"Really, Nurse Branson…" Jenny groaned.
"I'm sorry, Jenny," Sybil apologized, although she didn't sound sorry in the least. "It's just…well, it's become a bit of a Christmas tradition, ever since that one time…"
"Please," Jenny held up a hand. "What happens between two married people is their own business. But…is there a reason it has to happen in the hospital storage cupboard?"
The couple exchanged a look, before shrugging their shoulders; they had no answer. "Oh go on then!" Jenny groaned, laughing a little as she pushed them down the corridor. "Good luck explaining yourselves this time to your family!"
"They'll be too busy cooing over the baby to have noticed us missing," Sybil giggled. She and Tom took each other's hands and quickly moved down the corridor. "Happy Christmas, Jenny!" she called back to her friend, before giggling as Tom swatted her rump as they descended the stairs.
Honestly, Jenny thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. She poked her head into the cupboard, making sure everything looked righted as if nothing had happened to it. A devilish grin spread across her face. Now she just needed to figure out how best to sneak her beau up here, once her shift was over.
Indeed, it seemed that the legacy of Lady Sybil had been left on that hospital in more ways than one.
~MERRY CHRISTMAS!~