This story was mainly written as a belated birthday present to one of my favorite Downton authors, Ms. Peachdreamsandperseus, who in my opinion is a STAR amongst us Sybil/Tom fans. But lo and behold, right when I had asked her for some "specifics" to what she would like to see in this story, Across-the-Rubicon announced a FF prompt around the subject of "Tom's Birthday". So here we are, birthday sexytimes, plus a few other AtR challenge answers, including "caught in the act" and "kitchen sexytimes".

This story takes place just after Sybil and Tom and their daughter return to Ireland (roughly sometime between 1923-1924 in my headcanon) Also, this story is part of my "Katie Branson" universe; she's Sybil and Tom's daughter who appears in a few of my other DA stories, including "Father of the Bride", "Jack-O-Lanterns", and "It's a Girl!"

I should also send a little shout out to History Lady 24, because I borrowed an idea of hers about "birthday celebrations" that dear Martha passed on to the Bransons ;o) *and* a shout out to Repmet, who had mentioned once (or several times) about sexy "drunk!Tom"-and I couldn't help myself; you'll see what I mean ;o) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little frolic into the realms of Sybil/Tom smut, and once again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY PEACH! And happy birthday to all Sybil/Tom fans everywhere!

A Birthday Treat
by The Yankee Countess

He wasn't supposed to be there.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

She had been assured by his brothers that they would keep him distracted while she hurried home after her shift from the hospital to make him the special dessert that she had learned years ago, after first arriving Dublin, was Tom's favorite.

It was the perfect plan, or so she thought. As soon as his work ended at the newspaper office, his brothers would come by and insist they take him out for a celebratory drink. After all, it was his first birthday back in Ireland, amongst friends and family they hadn't seen in nearly four years since their exile to Yorkshire. They would take him out, have a few laughs, while she would hurry home and finish the hot apple crumble pudding that she knew he loved. Sybil never thought of herself as much of a cook; however she was proud of herself for "mastering" this particular recipe.

Her first stop was her sister-in-law's house, where she picked up a squirming and giggling toddler. Katie was excited because Sybil had told her that morning, before dropping her off, that they would be making Da a special treat for his birthday! Katie proved to be quite eager, and apparently and talked about nothing else, according to Tom's sister. Now they were home, and Katie was sitting in a chair, her eyes wide in wonder as she stared at the jars of various spices and dry ingredients used to make the pudding.

Together, mother and daughter rolled out the dough for the crumble, something Katie loved because it meant she could "sprinkle" flour all over the table and rolling pin. Of course, a "sprinkle" to Katie, was closer in truth to a rainstorm. Still, Sybil didn't mind, and laughed as her daughter tossed flour up in the air. Sybil helped Katie with the rolling pin, as well as measuring the various ingredients and cracking the eggs. Katie loved it all, except the parts where she couldn't help, because she was still "too little"; this included cutting up the apples, because she wasn't allowed to touch sharp knives, or stirring anything over the hot stove. So naturally, when they reached this portion of the evening, Katie was fidgeting and growing rather bored.

That was when she asked if she could go and play with Mrs. Donnelly's children, who lived in the flat below them. Sybil gave her permission, so long as it was alright with Mrs. Donnelly, and Katie quickly wiped her hands on her over-sized apron, before hopping down from her chair and toddling downstairs to the main floor flat. It was just as well, Sybil thought to herself. Now she wouldn't have to worry about Katie making a bigger mess in the kitchen, or putting her fingers anywhere that she shouldn't.

She finished adding the final ingredients to the crumble and was just placing it in the oven to bake, when she heard the door to the flat open.

"Did you forget something, sweetheart?" Sybil called out, assuming it was Katie. Sometimes Katie would run back upstairs from the Donnelly's to fetch her doll or teddy bear—she and the youngest Donnelly girl would often have tea parties with their toys. However, it was not Katie, as Sybil quickly realized when she felt two strong and familiar hands run over her hips.

"OH!" she gasped, whirling around and staring with wide eyes at her husband—whose cheeks seemed a little flushed, and his eyes a little glazed.

"Hello, my darlin," he murmured, his smile wide as he leaned down and dropped a kiss to her neck, nuzzling the skin there and causing Sybil to squirm slightly.

"Tom!" she blushed, her hands going to his shoulders and pushing him back slightly. He was home much earlier than she had anticipated. "What are you—?" But her speech was stopped short when his mouth covered hers in a deep and consuming kiss, one that truly stole her breath and left her panting. "Tom!" she managed to gasp when their lips parted. She could taste the alcohol on his tongue. "You're drunk!"

He chuckled at her words, and Sybil felt her face…and other parts of her…begin to grow hot as his hands ran lazy, but rather suggestive, circles along her waist and back, his fingers reaching for her apron and beginning to untie it.

"I'm not drunk," he argued, although the slight slur in his speech would suggest otherwise. "Just…just…" he was trying to think of the word but was clearly having trouble.

Sybil lifted an eyebrow. "Inebriated?"

He laughed and leaned in close and nuzzled her neck once more. "You and your fancy words…"

Sybil blushed and gasped as she felt his teeth nip at her neck while his fingers devilishly managed to untie her apron and toss it aside. His brothers had clearly taken her suggestion to "distract" Tom quite liberally. She should have explained that they weren't supposed to get him drunk. "Tom…" she tried to be the voice of reason, although it was difficult as he nipped at that sensitive spot on her neck that always caused her to moan and had the possibility of making her knees buckle. "Tom…control yourself—TOM!" she gasped, as his hands now pinched her bottom.

He grinned and lifted his face from her neck. "I love your arse," he growled as moved his lips to kiss her again.

"You're being an arse," she countered, although she couldn't help but giggle at the little pout he gave when she tilted her head away. "I'm going to have to have a stern talk with Kieran, later."

Tom was not one to normally go out and get drunk. She was grateful for that when she had seen the amounts of alcohol her brothers-in-law consumed. Tom was pretty good at holding his liquor, and unlike Kieran, knew when to stop. However, she also knew that sometimes, and certainly on special occasions, he might allow himself to be "carried away" if moods were merry and spirits were high. She should have known that such an occasion like Tom's first birthday back home would stir up such a feeling of "merriment".

Tom shook his head at her words, as if he thought she was going to go right now and have those stern words with his brothers. "No…no, I left them," he explained, speaking a little slower so as not to slur his words. He was determined to prove to her, it seemed, that he was not drunk. "They're still at the pub."

Sybil sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course they are," she groaned.

"But I left them," he emphasized, looking rather proud of himself. "They wanted me to stay—kept saying how this was my first…my first birthday back," he paused to hiccup, his face flushing pink at the guilty sign that perhaps he was drunk. "But I said 'no!'," he continued. "Said I needed to come home…to my…to my English darlin…"

"Oh Tom," Sybil sighed. She might as well start brewing the coffee; he always seemed to sober up after three hot cups of the black liquid. "I hope you didn't say THAT upon leaving; tensions are still quite high and always will be, no doubt—"

"You have white stuff in your hair," he murmured, his fingers moving up and touching some of the curls that framed her face.

Sybil felt her cheeks redden as she realized what Tom was talking about. "Oh gracious," she groaned, wondering what she must look like. Perhaps she had let Katie get a little too carried away with tossing flour?

"You're covered in it," he observed, looking down at her body, taking extra care to "observe" the flour that covered her bodice.

"It's flour," Sybil explained. "Katie was helping me bake—"

"Katie…" Tom turned his head as if expecting to see their daughter pop up at the sound of her name. "Katie, love…where are you my sweet?" he called out.

"She's downstairs visiting the Donnelly's," Sybil explained, trying to wipe some of the flour off her dress.

Tom turned his head back to his wife. "She's downstairs?"

Sybil groaned. "Yes, Tom, that's what I just said. Lord, I'm going to start making you some coffee—OH!"

She had turned her back on him and was in the midst of reaching for the tin that contained the coffee grounds, when her husband's hands grabbed hold of her hips and pulled her back against his body, leaving very little to the imagination. "Tom!" she gasped, especially when she felt one of his hands rise up and begin fondling her left breast.

"Just trying to help brush away the flour," he explained, trying to sound oh so innocent.

"Well you're doing a terrible job," she muttered, trying not to moan as his fingers teased the nipple through the fabric.

Some men, when drunk, could do very little. Sybil had seen her fair share of drunkards brought to the hospital over the years, both in Dublin and back in England. Every drunk she had ever dealt with could barely stand, let alone walk. They often had little energy to do much else.

But not Tom.

Tom became quite…randy…when he was drunk. Sybil learned this years ago, when his brothers insisted on taking the two of them out for drinks shortly after she first arrived in Dublin. Granted, she had been quite tipsy as well, but Kieran had to more or less peel the two of them apart, after finding them kissing quite passionately in a darkened corner of the pub, her sitting on Tom's lap, and the evidence of his…current state…rubbing against her thigh and growing harder by the second.

And just like that moment in the pub, and other moments between then and now, Tom was making it known, the current state of his body.

Sybil's eyes widened and a moan did manage to escape her throat as she felt him press and rub his arousal against her rump, while one hand caressed her breast and the other was rubbing her hip and thigh…as well as pull and bunch up her skirt.

"Tom…" she was trying to regain some composure. "I…I need to make you some coffee…"

"Later," he growled, his kissing and nipping at her neck once more as he pulled her against his body. "I need my wife more than anything right now…"

"Oh God," she gasped, as the hand that had pulling up her skirt, managed to slip beneath the fabric and immediately began teasing her through her knickers.

"Mmmmm…" he growled in approval as he caressed her. "What man would spend his birthday in a pub…when he could come home and spend it with a woman like you?" His teeth nipped at her earlobe, just has he managed to pull the fabric of her knickers aside so his fingers could have access to her hot, dripping center.

There was no point in arguing with him anymore, not that she really wanted to. She was on fire for him, and with every touch, she grew hotter.

Sybil had already been planning on giving her husband a special "birthday treat" much, much later, after Katie had gone to bed. Yet it looked as if that special treat was going to happen a bit sooner than she had originally planned. Not that she was complaining!

"Come on," she gasped, trying to regain enough composure to lead her husband to their bedroom.

But Tom clearly had other plans. "Here," he growled, his fingers pumping her body, causing her to whimper and wriggle her rump against his groin even more. "In the kitchen; it's been so long since we did it in the kitchen."

Sybil's face grew hot as memories of the two of them on the kitchen table…and the counter…and the floor…came rushing back. In fact, she recalled that the first time they had "christened" the kitchen was on Tom's 30th birthday, and it was rather similar to this very situation; he coming home and finding her stirring chocolate frosting in a bowl, covered in cocoa powder and other such spices. He went right into the kitchen and more or less begged if he could lick the excess frosting from her fingers.

They had made quite a mess that day. But Tom would always tell her it was the best birthday he had ever had.

"Please…" he moaned in her ear, his fingers moving a little faster, causing Sybil to throw one hand back, gripping the hair at the back of his head, while the other reached forward to grip the counter in front of her.

"Tom…you're…you're going to finish me off before we even get started!" she whimpered. He would too, if he kept doing what he was doing.

Her words only made him chuckle. "Are you eager for me to fill you up?" he growled, his words causing her tremble and melt. "Come on, Syb…it's my birthday…"

Well, how could she argue with such logic as that?

"Yes…" she moaned. "Yes, yes, hurry, please!"

He needed no further encouragement.

A gasp, followed by a sound of disappointment, escaped her lips, as she felt his fingers suddenly disappear from body. But that was only because his hands were busy undoing his trousers. The second he was free, his hands went to her hips, pushing her skirts up and pulling her knickers down, and Sybil's mouth created the perfect O as she felt her husband fill her body from behind.

"TOM!" she cried, her hands once again gripping the counter and fisting in his hair.

"Ooohhh God," he groaned, the pleasure he was feeling being inside her once again quite obvious in his voice. "Yesssssssssss…"

He turned them then, never once leaving her body, nor losing the rhythm of his thrusts, until he had her bent over the table. She was grateful that she had started to clear some of the mess away before he had gotten home, otherwise the floor would be littered with mixing bowls and egg shells, rather like it had been on his 30th birthday.

"So good," he growled, nipping at her neck and ear as his body pumped in and out of hers. Sybil could only nod in agreement, gasping and moaning, her hands gripping the table now as her husband increased the tempo of his thrusts.

"Tom…Tom, please…" she whimpered, biting her lip and wriggling against him, needing something desperately.

He knew what it was, and he grinned against her neck while his hand sneaked once more beneath her skirts, until it found the jewel between her thighs and began to rub it in an erotic massage that always left her quivering.

"YES! YES!" she cried, her body bucking against his, both to his thrusts and to his fingers.

Tom growled in approval and quickened his pace while murmuring words in his native tongue, words that caused Sybil to blush and moan, but also caused her heart to soar in love for him.

"Sybil…" he managed to gasp into her ear. "Are you…are you…?"

She nodded her head, biting her lip as the pleasure soared and began to shake and take hold of her body. She could feel her husband tense and she knew he was close, just like herself.

"Kiss me," she begged, always needing to feel his lips when they made love. It was the only disadvantage of this position. Still, she and Tom always found ways to make it work, and he buried his body deep inside hers as he loomed close, turning her head and capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss that truly would cause stars to glimmer.

The pleasure of their sudden lovemaking quickly overcame them, and they were both gasping and crying each other's names, while shaking and trembling as the sweet aftershocks rolled through their bodies.

…And that was when the door to the flat opened.

"Mummy! I need my bear—DA!"

Sybil and Tom froze as they met their daughter's eyes from across the kitchen. There they both were, Sybil pressed down against the table, Tom just behind her, his chest pressed to her back, and both of them covered with flour and other various things from the table.

At least the table blocked their daughter's view of Tom's trousers, down around his ankles.

"Da, you're home!" Katie grinned, completely oblivious to what had just happened, thanks to her young innocence.

Apparently there was one thing stronger than coffee that could sober Tom up, and that was his daughter, finding him in such a state. "Aye…I am," he put on an awkward smile, praying he wouldn't have to move for fear of revealing too much.

Katie continued to grin in blissful ignorance. "We made you crumble," she said with proud smile.

"You did?" Tom asked, sweat pooling on his brow as he returned the smile. Sybil was absolutely mortified, but simply plastered the same smile her husband was wearing for their daughter.

Katie nodded and then looked at her mother. "Is it finished?"

Sybil blushed and swallowed. "Not quite yet…" she squeaked. "Why don't you go back downstairs…and we'll fetch you when it's ready?"

Katie nodded her head, and then without another word, turned to the small living room to fetch the teddy bear she had come back upstairs to retrieve. Tom and Sybil remained where they were, neither moving nor making a sound, simply watching their daughter and holding their breath as she headed back to the door.

However, a moment of panic suddenly arose when Katie turned and looked at her parents with questioning eyes. "Da, are you helping Mummy?"

Despite the rather embarrassing situation they were finding themselves in, Sybil had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and apparently her husband was having the same difficulty. "Aye," he simply answered. "I'm helping her clean up."

Katie made a face. "It looks like you made a bigger mess."

"Are you volunteering to help clean instead?"

That got the little girl moving. She waved goodbye to her parents, and with her bear in tow, shut the flat door and was heard skipping down the corridor and then down the stairs.

Tom and Sybil both groaned and let out a sigh of relief, which was quickly followed by a good, long laugh.

"That sobered me up," Tom groaned, his face hot with embarrassment burrowing against his wife's neck. They both shook with laughter, before moaning as their bodies parted.

"Should we reference this moment when time for 'the talk' comes?" Sybil asked, giggling at the horrified expression that suddenly clouded her husband's face.

He gave her rump a good swat. "Minx," he growled, leaning close to kiss her again. "The things you do to me…"

"Me?" Sybil put her hands on Tom's chest and gave it a good poke with her finger. "I wasn't the one who insisted we make love in the kitchen."

He grinned at the blush that colored her cheeks as she spoke. "You didn't protest to it either."

Well he had her there.

"Did you really make a crumble?" he asked, suddenly realizing that something was baking in the oven, the sweet aroma of apples and spices filling the kitchen.

Sybil blushed but smiled. "It was the reason I asked your brothers to take you to the pub; so I could bake it for you as a surprise," she touched his cheek, giggling at the flour stain that covered it. "And Katie did help."

"Two treats in one day," he grinned, leaning close to kiss her. "This is turning into a very happy birthday, indeed."

Sybil put a finger to his lips. He had that look in his eyes, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before they both found themselves on the table once again. "Katie is right, however," she said. "We really have made a bigger mess."

Tom sighed and looked at the table, seeing the various spices they had gotten all over the surface, as well as the floor and themselves. "It's not as bad as that time you made me that cake for my 30th—"

She swatted his chest, which only broadened his grin.

"You did tell our daughter you were 'helping me clean up'," she pointed out.

Tom made a bit of a face, like a pouty child. Now Sybil knew where Katie had gotten it from. "But it's my birthday…" he moaned, although she knew it was more for dramatic effect. She could see the teasing light in his eyes. But that was fine, because she knew very well how to play this game.

"Yes it is," she agreed. "And if you help me clean this mess…which you do share some of the blame in making…" she gave him a look, which only caused him to shrug his shoulders, not looking sorry in the slightest. "I'll give you a very special present, later, after Katie goes to bed."

Tom lifted an eyebrow at her promise. "This birthday is getting better and better," he grinned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his brow resting against hers. "Will your hand be paddling my arse?" he growled, remembering that little birthday tradition Martha had told him once, and how he couldn't wait until Sybil's next birthday to put it into practice.

Sybil blushed and ran her fingers through her husband's hair, before leaning up on her toes, her lips only a breath away. "I was thinking more along the lines of blowing…out your candle."

Indeed, it was a very good birthday ;o) OH! And just in case anyone is curious, if you recall at the end of "Father of the Bride" the mention that Sybil is pregnant with their second child, well, now you know when it happened ;o) THANKS FOR READING! Please leave feedback, I love hearing from readers! :oD