AN: Firstly, I'd like to apologise for how long this has taken me to get up. I had a serious case of writers block, and then life got crazy… but your awesome reviews and private messages have helped me more than I can say, so THANK YOU! I will try not and leave you waiting 17,000 years for the next chapter. As always, please let me know what you think by leaving a review – your comments mean the world to me. I love you guys! Huge Thanks to everyone that has helped me along the way, sent me encouraging messages and just been plain awesome 3

'I (heart) You'

Chapter Four:

"Want another beer?" Thomas asked, as he poked his head out into the back garden of Tom's flat, where Tom stood manning the BBQ; making the most of the unusually hot summer weather that had descended upon London.

"Yeah, please."

Leaning down, Thomas grabbed another couple of bottles from the cooler. "Here you go, mate," he grinned; as he walked behind Tom, lifting up his t-shirt; placing the cold bottle against his friend's warm stomach.

"Arghhh, fuck me," Tom hissed.

"You're not my type," Thomas teased as he took a seat and raised his drink. "Cheers!"

Tom shook his head and laughed.

"So, how are things going with Dan?" Tom asked, referring to Thomas's new boyfriend.

"Really good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I really like him."

"You should bring him over with you next time."

"Oh, I don't know if we're quite there yet," Thomas said, as he lifted the handles up of the garden lounger he was sitting in, pushing backwards to recline, "you know, meeting each others friends and all that shit."

"Well, let me know when I'm allowed to meet him," Tom teased, as he loaded the plates he was holding with burgers and sausages from the BBQ, handing one to Thomas before taking a seat.

"Will do."

They tucked in to their food, both ridiculously hungry from their weekly Saturday morning five-a-side football match earlier that day.

They were suddenly interrupted by what could only be described as obnoxious music from very close range.

"What's that?" Tom asked innocently, as he looked around, trying to see where the music was suddenly coming from.

# (I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa!)

Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player.

(I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa!)

If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place, 'cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin' my baby… Bay-bee#

Thomas started to laugh, covering his mouth with his hand.

"Did you change my fucking ring tone again?" asked Tom, as he jumped up and looked through his gym bag he'd dumped by the door. "You're like some sort of fecking Ninja, I swear. I never see you take it."

"Mad skills, me."

Still scowling at his friend's annoying, and yet admittedly impressive phone-ninja skills, Tom answered before looking at the called ID; worried he'd miss whoever was calling.

"Hello, Tom…Branson."

"Branson, it's Lord Grantham, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he apologised.

"Nothing at all, sir."

"I'm calling to ask you a favour. Please say no if you have other plans, it's just that Lady Sybil and a friend have been invited to some sort of festival at the Olympic Stadium this evening, and it doesn't finish until late. They're talking of getting a night bus home, but I'm really rather not comfortable with that."

Tom could hear Lady Grantham in the background. "She's a grown woman for goodness sake, Robert."

"Will you hold on a second, Branson…I don't care how old she is, Cora, she's not getting a bloody night bus…not if I can help it. If Branson can't pick her up, we'll arrange for a taxi to take the girls home… Hello, sorry about that. So, Branson, is this something you'd be able to do? You'll of course be paid extra for the inconvenience."

Tom thought about it briefly before giving his answer, he didn't have anything planned for the evening anyway, except maybe an early night; but the promise of extra pay was not something he could turn down.

"It's not a problem, Sir. What time do I have to be there?"

"Thank you, Cora and I appreciate this very much. The show finishes at 11.00. Gwen lives in Mile End, and Lady Sybil will be staying the night with us at Grantham House."

"Of course."

"I'll pass on your number, so she can arrange where to meet you. Thank you again, Branson." And with that, the phone went dead.

"So, what have you been roped in to doing tonight then?" Thomas asked, as he reached over and dipped his sausage into the tomato ketchup on Tom's plate; smiling at Tom who was playfully batting his hand away.

"I have to pick one of the Earl's daughter's up from The Wireless Festival at the Olympic Stadium."

"Dan is there this weekend too, jammy git. He's going with the 'guys from work'," Thomas explained, a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Yeah? I know a bunch of people who have tickets – that girl I have been talking to online said she might be going…"

"Really? You should arrange to meet her or something."

"As much as I'd love to – she wouldn't agree to it, not yet anyway – and then you have the fact that I kinda haven't told her about me being a chauffeur… I told her I was a journalist – which technically isn't a lie."

"Right, but you shouldn't be embarrassed about what you do. You've worked hard to get where you are, mate."

"I'm not – and I won't always be a chauffeur… I know I should have told her, I don't know why I didn't – but I can't say anything now – that would be… awkward."

Just to let you know that I'm in the car park – second floor, row D. I'll be waiting for you here unless you tell me otherwise. – Tom Branson.

Tom typed out the text, checking it briefly before hitting send. His phone buzzed with a reply a few seconds later.

Thank you so much for picking us up. Hopefully it won't take us too long to get out once the concert is finished. I'll text you again once the show is over. Sybil

He had at least an hour to wait until they'd get there – the show still had another twenty minutes left before they'd have to attempt to wade their way through the enormous crowd and make their way to the car park.

Having left his laptop at home, he couldn't finish any of his articles, so he decided to play a couple of games on his phone to pass the time. He could kill Thomas for getting him in to Fruit Ninja. At least he had something to occupy him on the way to work.

He was 40 seconds into his game, with only 20 seconds to go, and it already looked as though he was going to beat his record score, when his phone buzzed, informing him of a new message. He pressed the little cross next to the alert, and continued to swipe vigorously at the fruit with his finger – desperately trying to slice through as many pieces of fruit as possible before the time ran out, when his phone interrupted him again, alerting him of another message. This time he couldn't ignore it – his time was up anyway.

Lady Suffragette (22.15): Hey! So I think I'm quite literally one of the oldest people here tonight.

Lady Suffragette (22.16): I should be embarrassed, but I'm watching Justin Timberlake, so I don't care :p

Faramir (22.16) LOL! Big Justin fan then, are you?

Lady Suffragette (22.16) YES!

Faramir (22.17) This may be worse than your choice of coffee…

Lady Suffragette (22.18) I take it you weren't big on NYSNC? ;)

Faramir (22.19) I was more of a Backstreet Boys fan myself ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.19) Ha! You're hiding behind that little winky face of yours, but I bet you loved them – and knew all the words.

Faramir (22.20) Busted. But I'll have you know, I knew all the dance moves too ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.21) LOL!

Faramir (22.21) So, why are you texting me when your boyfriend is on stage? ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.22) He's a married man – clearly you don't keep up to date on what's going on in the 'news' ;p

Faramir (22.23) Tell me you're joking, please tell me you're joking… =)

Lady Suffragette (22.23) YES! Although, working where I do, it's hard not to read some of the magazines people leave in the staff canteen when you're on a night shift. I know more than I'd like lol.

Faramir (22.24) Aw! I feel like I need to sanitise your brain ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.25) Haa!

Faramir (22.25) You never answered why you're messaging me in the middle of a concert…

Lady Suffragette (22.26) Sorry, would you rather I didn't? ;)

Faramir (22.26) No. I didn't mean it like that.

Lady Suffragette (22.27) I know you didn't. I was just teasing.

Faramir (22.27) So?

Lady Suffragette (22.28) We hadn't spoken in a while, that's all =)

Faramir (22.28) We 'spoke' this morning…

Lady Suffragette (22.29) And that was a while ago, no?

Her interpretation of 'a while' made him smile. If he was being honest with himself – he'd missed talking to her. They'd usually talk on and off the entire the day, but today had been particularly busy for the both of them.

Faramir (22.30) It was! Miss me? ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.31) I feel like if I said yes, your head might explode.

Faramir (22.32) Would it help if I told you I had missed talking to you?

This was so unlike him, letting himself open up, take risks like this. Yes they were teasing each other, but he meant what he said, he had missed talking to her.

Faramir (22.34) Have I freaked you out?

Lady Suffragette (22.36) Noooo! Sorry, my favourite song came on.

Faramir (22.36) Did you 'get down'? ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.37) I'm proud to say, that yes, yes I did :p

Lady Suffragette (22.38) And yes!

Faramir (22.39) hmm?

Lady Suffragette (22.39) before I got distracted, my answer was yes.

Lady Suffragette (22.40) I did miss talking to you.

Faramir (22.40) =)

Lady Suffragette (22.41) That's all I get?

Faramir (22.41) Sorry, how about B:-&

Lady Suffragette (22.43) What the hell is that?

Faramir (22.43) That is my tongue tied face.

Lady Suffragette (22.44) LOL, what's the B?

Faramir (22.44) Those would be glasses on my head…

Lady Suffragette (22.45) Awww you wear glasses?

Faramir (22.45) Sometimes, yeah.

Lady Suffragette (22.45) Ooh! I love a guy in glasses.

Faramir (22.46) Does Justin look good in glasses? ;)

Lady Suffragette (22.46) LOL! Actually, he does.

Faramir (22.47) Maybe I should perm my hair like his too, you know, get the "full look"

Lady Suffragette (22.47) OMG, when did you last see JT? He's had his hair straightened. Keep up :p

Lady Suffragette (22.48) Okay, ah, I'm sorry. I have to go. Jay Z has just come on stage with Justin and my friend is freaking out LOL.

Faramir (22.48) Alright. Be careful, okay?

Lady Suffragette (22.48) Yes sir 3

Faramir (22.49) Okay, so that only works if you are saluting me right now.

Lady Suffragette (22.49) How do you know I'm not...

Faramir (22.50) is that meant to be sexy... because it really kinda is…

Lady Suffragette (22.50) I guess this falls under, that's for me to know and you to find out territory then huh?

Tom shook his head and laughed as he read her last message. He hadn't flirted with someone like this for years – hell, even when he was dating Kate – his last long term girlfriend; they'd never talked like this.

He could hear the crowd going wild from where he was sitting, the thundering of stomping feet making his car shake ever so slightly –there was something strangely romantic about knowing he was hearing the exact same thing as his mystery lady. God, if any of his mates knew how soft he'd become, they'd take away his Man Card and then probably try and beat the crap out of him.

He figured that was justified.

He also didn't care overly much.

"That was SO much fun," giggled Gwen, as she linked arms with Sybil and started to head towards the exit.

Sybil smiled as she linked arms with her friend. "I know! Thanks for coming with me," she shouted – ensuring she could be heard over the noise of people.

"Who's picking us up again?"

"Branson. He's my father's chauffeur…"

"Ohh fancy," teased Gwen, as she tripped over her own foot – causing them both to start laughing. "I think, I might be… maybe a teeny tiny little bit drunk," she exclaimed; raising her voice louder than was necessary.

"I'm not surprised," laughed Sybil as she helped her friend up off the floor. "Are you going to be okay walking to the car?"

"I'm fine – honestly," wobbled Gwen, as she held on tighter to her friend as they made their way through the sea of people.

Sybil reached into her pocked for her phone, and quickly typed out her message.

Lady Suffragette (23.39) So…this is going to be fun. My friend is drunk.

Faramir (23.40) Are you going to be okay getting home?

Lady Suffragette (23.40) Yeah, we have a friend picking us up.

She knew Branson – not well, but she knew him – and they definitely weren't friends, acquaintances maybe, but not friends… but she wasn't exactly going to tell him that her father's chauffeur was picking them up. He'd think her a complete toff.

Faramir (23.41) Okay, good. I was about to saddle up my horse and come rescue you ;)

Lady Suffragette (23.41) Aw, my knight in shining armour.

Faramir (23.42) Why when I think of a knight in shining armour, do I think of the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz?

Sybil laughed.

"What's so funny?" asked Gwen, who had somehow managed to buy a doughnut without her realising.

"Oh nothing, Edith was just making fun of how long it's going to take us to get home," she lied; not quite ready to dish the dirt on her new 'online romance.'

Lady Suffragette (23.44) LOL! I have no idea. But I'm now totally imagining being rescued by the Tin Man…

Faramir (23.44) Whatever floats your boat sweetheart… ;)

Lady Suffragette (23.45) You started it :p

Faramir (23.45) Let me know when you get home, okay?

"The Underground and buses this way – continue straight on for the car park," shouted a security guard, who was doing the best he could to steer everyone in the right direction.

"We're almost there," smiled Sybil – noticing just how unsteady on her feet Gwen actually was.

"Good. I'm starting to feel a little…"

"A little what?" Sybil asked, worried her friend might be feeling sick.

"Hmm?"

"Do you feel okay?" She couldn't help but ask, the concerned doctor in her coming out.

Gwen swung her arm around Sybil's shoulder and kissed her cheek. "I feel fan–bloody-tas-tic."

Sybil shook her head and laughed. "This is us" she explained, pointing to the black Bentley in front of them.

"Thank God, my feet are killing me," Gwen moaned, clinging onto her friend's arm as she began taking off her shoes.

"Wait and do that in the car," she laughed – Sybil hadn't seen her friend this tipsy in a while.

"Good evening Lady Sybil, Miss. Dawson," greeted Tom, as he doffed his hat.

"He called you LADY Sybil," laughed Gwen, finding the whole situation far funnier than it actually was.

"You know that's my title," Sybil explained, shaking her head. "No one but family and family friends really use it…Branson, please," she looked up at Tom, "call me Sybil."

"I don't think your father would approve."

"He's not here, is he?" grinned Sybil, enjoying the way in which Tom's eyes wrinkled as he laughed.

"Okay – well in that case. Call me Tom."

Gwen walked over to him and shook his hand rather enthusiastically. "It's VERY nice to meet you, Tom."

"I'm so sorry about this," mouthed Sybil, pointing at her friend who had more or less fallen on to the back seat.

"Does she need a hand?" he whispered; clearly unsure as to what he should do in this sort of situation.

"No, she'll be fine," she explained, watching as her friend righted herself in the car.

"Okay – well, in you go," he grinned, opening the door for her.

Sybil could feel her face getting warm. Why was she blushing? Maybe it was the glass of wine she'd had earlier…or was it the way his blue eyes were looking at her – as though they were looking deep into her soul. YES, it had to be the wine…

"Thank you."

"Mmmm he's cute!" Gwen stated – louder and more obvious than she probably intended, due to the alcohol.

'Oh fuck,' he'd heard, she groaned inwardly, as she noticed the smug look on his face as he walked around to the drivers seat.

"Is everyone belted up?" Tom asked, pulling his own seatbelt across his chest, and securing it firmly in the clasp, before he started the engine. Turning briefly to make sure it was okay for him to start driving.

"Miss. Dawson, I'll be dropping you off first. It shouldn't take us too long to get to Mile End," he informed – pulling out of the car park and thanking the car that let him go.

"You guys should come in. We can continue this party back at mine," Gwen slurred; the gentle movement of the car making her sleepy and seemingly more drunk."

"I think its best you just go straight to bed," sighed Sybil, which caused Tom to laugh.

Gwen turned to her and stuck her tongue out. "Spoil sport. I'm sure Mr. Tom here would love to come in and have a drink. We could set the karaoke machine up…"

"As fun as that sounds." Tom laughed, making quick eye contact with Sybil in the rear view mirror, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline. But thanks for the offer."

"Urgh! You're both riding the lame train."

"What are you talking about?" Sybil asked, becoming more embarrassed by her friend.

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Sybil huffed, hoping Gwen would just fall asleep on the drive home.

"So, did you ladies have a good time tonight?"

"We did actually," Sybil replied, smiling at Gwen who was already almost asleep – face pressed up against the window.

"You sound surprised."

"I guess I am. I haven't been to anything like that in years," she admitted. "I felt rather old."

She could see in the mirror that Tom had playfully rolled his eyes.

"What was that for?"

"What?"

"I saw you roll your eyes," she laughed, leaning forward slightly.

"You're not old. I doubt you were the oldest one there – that's all I meant."

"Mmhmm…"

"Seriously; you're younger than me, and I know a couple of people that were there tonight."

"How old do you think I am?" she asked teasingly." Sybil was a little surprised with how comfortable she felt talking to him, especially as they had only met a couple of times before – and on those occasions she always had a member of her family accompanying her.

"Oh no, no no no. I am not playing that game," he laughed.

"Oh go on. I won't be offended."

"How old do you think I am?"

"Thirty…?"

"Close."

"Twenty nine?"

"Getting cooler – but thank you for going that way first. I'm thirty one."

"Now guess me…"

"No."

"Go on, don't be a baby," she teased.

Tom hesitated for a moment before answering.

"Uh, twenty…three?" he offered, the uncertainty evident in his voice making her laugh.

"No. But thank you."

"See? I'm not very good at that game."

"Aren't you going to ask how old I am then?"

"Nope – my mam taught me to never ask a woman her age."

Sybil smiled. "That's very chivalrous," she said, as she wrote out a quick message on her phone.

Lady Suffragette (00.49) I forgot to let you know that my friend has picked us up. We're in the car on the way home now.

"I've learned my lesson," Tom laughed, as he heard his phone vibrate quietly in his pocket, reaching in as discreetly as he could to put it on mute. "I remember asking my mam how old she was when I was about eight and she clipped me round the ear."

"Aww."

Tom smiled at her briefly as he looked behind to make sure the road was clear for him to switch lanes.

"I'm twenty seven by the way."

"Well, you don't look it," he said honestly.

Sybil bit her lip as she smiled back at him. "Thank you."

"Ah, damn it," he muttered.

"What's the matter?"

"I forgot there's road works on the A12 from midnight."

"Oh."

"Don't worry. I'm going to turn around. It may just take us a little longer to get there. Do you guys want anything?" he asked, pointing to the drive through McDonald's that was just coming up on his right."

"I'm not sure– I don't want you to get in trouble tomorrow when my father gets into the car and is overtaken by the smell of chicken nuggets."

"It's a good job I'm getting the car cleaned tomorrow before I pick him up then, isn't it?" he smiled. "You don't have to – I just thought it might help your friend, you know… soak up the booze."

"That's actually a good idea," she said, turning to Gwen, who was now fast asleep and snoring loudly. "Gwen – wake up."

"Hmmm?"

"Wake up." She said, looking at the phone on her lap – checking to see if she'd maybe missed his reply – she hadn't.

"Where are we?" Gwen asked, as she rubbed at her eyes, causing her mascara to smudge.

"We're still on our way home, but there's road works… so we're going to stop off for a quick Maccy D's before we turn around. Do you want anything?"

"Maybe, but I'm not that hungry"

"I think you should eat something," Sybil said, as Tom pulled the car into the drive through.

"You're probably right," groaned Gwen, as she stuck out her tongue. "God, my mouth is dry."

Sybil leant forward so she was by Tom's ear.

"What are you going to get?"

"I shouldn't really get anything," he said as he smiled at her.

"I won't tell if you won't," she smiled back.

"Maybe… what are you getting?"

"Chicken nuggets, fries and a chocolate milkshake."

"Ooh, I've not had chicken nuggets for years," he admitted, as he turned to Gwen. "And what about you?"

"I think I'll have the Double Cheeseburger, fries and a Fanta."

Just as they finished discussing what they wanted, the car in front drove off, leaving them free to pull up next to the microphone and place their order.

"What can I get you guys tonight?"

Sybil leant forward again, resting her hand on Tom's shoulder so that she could get nearer the microphone.

"We'll get one Double Cheeseburger, fries and a Fanta, two chicken nuggets and fries," she said, looking at Tom and smiling smugly as she ordered his meal without his consent; causing him to roll his eyes. "A chocolate milkshake and…" she looked at Tom again.

"A Coke please," he said, more to Sybil than the person taking his order.

"Okay, drive through to the next window to pay, and your food will be ready in a moment."

They drove to the next window, and before Tom managed to pull his wallet out of his pocket, Sybil leaned across him and paid.

Taking a fiver out, Tom tried to hand it to Sybil, who kept swatting his hand away.

"You can get mine next time," she told him, as she grabbed the bags from the cashier and sat down in the back seat.

'Next time?' Shit! Was she… flirting with him? Sit back down and pretend like that never happened…

"Next time?" Gwen laughed, as she ripped in to her cheeseburger. "Have you two suddenly started seeing each other in the fifteen minutes since I've been asleep?" she teased, unaware of how awkward she was making Sybil. Usually she would just laugh off Gwen's behaviour, but for some reason it was getting to her.

"Yeah, we do this all the time," Tom replied, seeing the obvious embarrassment on Sybil's face as he pulled into a space in the restaurant's car park. He hoped his jovial response to Gwen's teasing would put Sybil at ease. "Although I'm more of a kebab man myself."

Sybil was grateful for his attempt to lighten the atmosphere, this was so unlike her. Maybe she'd had more to drink than she'd originally thought…

"We'll eat this, and then we'll set off. It should only take us about twenty minutes to get to Mile End," he said, as he dug in to his chicken nuggets.

They ate in silence for the next ten minutes, all playing on their phones as they finished off their food.

Sybil jumped as she felt her phone buzz on her lap.

Faramir (00.58) Sorry, I didn't hear my phone. Let me know when you get home though, okay? x

Lady Suffragette (00.58) Will do. We're dropping another friend off first, but I'll let you know as soon as I get in. I hope my message won't wake you.

Faramir (00.59) I wont be able to fall asleep until I know you're home =)

Lady Suffragette (00.59) I can't decide whether that's creepy or cute lol.

Faramir (00.59) I was going for cute… but if it's creepy you're after…

Lady Suffragette (01.00) No no, stick with cute. Thank you. I'll text you the moment I walk through the door. I promise :p

Once Sybil had finished typing out her message, she placed her phone on her lap and removed the plastic lid from her drink. She thought nothing of it as she dunked a chip into her chocolate milkshake.

"I can't believe you still do that," laughed Gwen, as she watched her friend dip another chip into her drink.

Tom turned his head to see what they were talking about – and his nose scrunched up when he saw what she was doing.

"You're not actually going to eat that, are you?" He asked, as she swirled the chip around in the frothy mixture.

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," she exclaimed, as she held her drink out for him to dunk one of his chips in to.

"No – I think I'm okay," he replied, wiping his hands on a napkin, signifying he'd finished his meal.

"Try it. Honestly, you'll like it," she said, waving her box of chips in front of him.

Tom looked at her for a second and shook his head before reaching for a chip.

"If this makes me sick…"

"Then you'll be lucky that you have two junior doctors in the car with you, won't you?" Sybil teased, watching as he gingerly dipped the now cool fry into the chocolaty drink.

"You like it don't you? I can tell," she grinned, as she watched him dip another.

"Okay, that's strangely delicious."

"You're both gross," muttered Gwen, as she burped loudly into her hand. The irony of what she'd just said lost on her.

Sybil mouthed an apology at Tom, who smiled and shook his head, letting her know he wasn't offended.

"Are you ladies both finished?" Tom asked, as he gathered all the rubbish in to one bag – waiting for their answer before he hopped out and threw it into the bin.

"Alright, let's get this show on the road."

Tom turned to check they both had their seatbelts on before he pulled out onto the road. He followed the monotonous voice of the navigation system as he weaved in and out of the late night traffic.

"Urgh! This is the sort of night where I wish I had a hot ass boyfriend waiting for me at home. It's been too fucking long," whined Gwen as she threw her head back onto the headrest.

"It's not been that long," laughed Sybil.

"For you, no, but for me – it's been way too long… Are you seeing anyone Ti…Tom? She asked, ignoring the mortified look on Sybil's face as she continued on. "Not for me – you're not my type… no offence."

"None taken," snickered Tom as he slipped a piece of gum into his mouth.

"You're more Sybil's type… I mean, she's fussy, don't get me wrong, but you have nice arms. Sybil like's a nice forearm…"

"Okay… I really think you need to stop talking," Sybil laughed nervously.

"So, are you?"

"Am I what?" He asked, making quick eye contact with Gwen in the mirror.

"Seeing anyone?"

Sybil rolled her eyes. "You don't have to answer that," muttered Sybil, as she shot Gwen a look, finding it impossible to hide the irritation on her face.

"Sort of – it's complicated," he answered earnestly.

"Ooooh! What do you mean, sort of?"

"GWEN!"

"What? I'm just curious…"

Sybil leant between the gap in the seats and pointed, "Her road is the next one on the left."

"This one?" Tom asked, as he slowed the car down – knowing full well that this was where he was meant to be going, but it was as though he knew Sybil needed to talk – to stop her friend from embarrassing her any more.

"Yeah…. If you can just pull over by this white van, I'll see her in."

Tom parked the car and went to get out – but was stopped by Sybil.

"It's okay. I'll only be a sec."

He watched as Sybil struggled to get Gwen out of the car.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Tom asked, noticing the red head swaying slightly from side to side.

"Maybe that cheeseburger wasn't such a good idea after all…" muttered Gwen, as she rubbed at her stomach.

"Please tell me you're not going to be si…"

Before Sybil could even finish the sentence, Gwen threw up – all over herself and embarrassingly for Sybil (because this evening wasn't mortifying enough for her) over Tom's shoes.

"Are you okay?" They both asked Gwen at the same time.

"I really want to go to bed," she moaned, as she staggered towards her front door.

"I'm so sorry about your shoes," Sybil apologised as she made her way after her friend. "Take them off and I'll clean them up for you."

Tom walked slowly behind and watched as they made their way inside. He thought about following them, but decided against it. Instead, he walked to the car and opened the boot, ripping open the case of water he kept for emergencies. He grabbed a couple of bottles in each hand and made himself comfortable on the wall outside Gwen's. He carefully slid off his shoes, and began pouring water over them - wanting to get rid of the smell of vomit as soon as possible.

Once he'd cleaned his shoes (as best he could with only water) he took out his phone, hoping to see that his 'Lady Suffragette' had made it home safely, only to find that she'd not yet messaged him. She'd told him they were dropping a friend off first, so he knew he shouldn't be worried, yet he was, it was weird and something he couldn't explain. This feeling was new to him; he'd never felt like this about someone he'd not met before; hell, online dating? That was so far out of his normal habits that he should be laughing at himself. But as strange as this whole thing was, he couldn't deny the feelings he had. Or the surprising strength of them.

Was this normal? He supposed not. But then again, the whole thing seemed to be so not-normal did he really care?

He thinks back to when Gwen had asked if he was seeing someone… he wasn't, so why didn't he just say no? He'd replied with, "it's complicated," what the fuck was he talking about? It's as though he didn't want to say he was single, in case something did eventually happen with his mystery lady and that by stating he was single he may somehow jinx whatever was to happen... Tom almost laughed out loud as he turned to clean the next shoe. If his thought processes were any indication, he was a mess.

A huge mess, and it was also far too late to be thinking about this, in more ways than one.

Finishing his shoes, he yawned and gave a little stretch. He checked his watch; Sybil had been inside with Gwen for at least twenty minutes, surely if something was wrong she'd call him? He thought as he leaned his head back against the bricks behind him.

Once Sybil was sure that Gwen had stopped throwing up, she helped her get ready for bed.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?" she asked, as she tucked her friend up in bed.

"I'll be fine. Go. Thank you though."

"Are you sure?"

"Seriously, I'm going to fall asleep as soon as you close the door anyway," she sighed, as she turned over, already half asleep.

"Okay. Call me if you need me."

And with that, Sybil made her way downstairs. God, what was she going to say to Tom, they'd only met a couple of times before tonight. His shoes, shit, she'd forgotten about his shoes. She rushed into the living room, expecting to see him sitting on the sofa waiting for her. Where was he? She could still see the car parked outside, so he'd not left yet…

"Tom?" She called, as she walked into the kitchen, and past the downstairs toilet, just in case. There was no answer… Surely he wouldn't still be outside would he?

Shit, of course he would. He's your father's chauffeur, you never invited him inside, and even if you did; of course he's not going to make himself comfortable in your friends lounge while you're upstairs holding her hair back for her while she throws up.

She rushed outside, and stopped at the sight in front of her. Tom was fast asleep, perched on the wall with his legs crossed in front of him. His chin rested heavily on his chest – his shoes, now clean on the floor in front of him. He looked adorable, she couldn't deny it, but standing watching him sleep wasn't going to get either of them home any quicker. He looked so peaceful, she felt a little guilty waking him.

"Tom?" She whispered, as she reached out and gently touched his arm.

Tom jolted awake; instantly remembering where he was and who he was with.

"Shit," he muttered. Standing up straight and running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. That was so unprofes…"

"No, I'm sorry. I left you outside for half an hour at 2.00am with my friends sick all over your shoes. It's late, you must be exhausted…and if you think I'll tell my father, well, you have my word that I won't. He will hear nothing of this night," she laughed, nervously. "Trust me."

"That's probably best," he laughed back. "Right, we should probably get going then," he began, as he made his way towards the car.

"Urm, Tom…"

He turned towards her. "Hmmm?"

"You might want to put your shoes back on," she chuckled, watching the heat rise on his cheeks as the embarrassment set in.

He shook his head and laughed at himself. "That's probably a good idea, aye?"

Sybil nodded. "Also, Halloween socks in May, really?" she teased, unable to resist mocking him; loving the way he reacted to it.

"Who said that I could only wear my glow in the dark pumpkin socks for one day of the year? What did my poor glow in the dark pumpkin socks ever do to make the other 364 days of the year shun them? Consider me a Crusader for the Rights of glow in the dark pumpkin socks everywhere!'

Sybil laughed. She couldn't help it. 'I don't know whether to be impressed or worry about my non-glow in the dark, non-pumpkin socks feelings of inferiority…'

'Since I am a kind and benevolent Crusader for the Rights of socks everywhere, I say you're fine. Come on, it's late. Let's get you home. As you can see, my socks are already telling you its passed midnight, Cinders.'

Tom held the back door open for her, as she laughed at him, but she shook her head.

"Do you mind if I sit in the front with you?" She asked. "It's just that I'm not great sitting in the back.

"Of course," he assured her, as he walked her round to the front passenger side and held the door open for her as she climbed inside.

They set off in silence towards Grantham House.

Sybil spoke a few minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence that filled the car. "I hope you don't have too far to go home tonight."

"Not really," he assured her.

"I'm sorry about Gwen… she can be a bit… much sometimes."

"Don't worry about it. As we speak, my best friend Thomas is probably passed out on my living room floor." He rolled his eyes. "It seems he is unable to get back to his own place on his own after a night out – yet clearly remembers my address enough to give it to the cabbie dropping him off."

Sybil laughed; relieved to see that Gwen hadn't made Tom too uncomfortable. "Still, I'm sorry about your shoes, and you know… all her questions."

"Is she usually that…?"

"Nosey?"

Tom turned and smiled at her. "I was going to say inquisitive."

"Yeah she is, alcohol unfortunately just brings it out of her sooner than we'd all like."

They both laughed before falling into a relaxed silence once again.

She must have drifted off, because the next thing she knows, the engine is being turned off and she is being gently shaken awake.

"Hi," he says, as he sees Sybil's eyes open slowly, scanning her surroundings quickly to see where she was. "We're at Grantham House," he smiled as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

"God, I don't even remember falling asleep. I'm so sorry."

"Its fine," he smiled again. He seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. "It's late."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, he'd walked around and opened her door for her.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, extending his hand towards her.

"No, I think I'll be okay," she said as she swung her legs around and lifted herself out from the car, swaying on her feet ever so slightly.

"Take my arm," he grinned, as he shut her door. "You look like you might fall back asleep any minute."

Sybil linked her arm through his, and placed her other hand on his arm – telling herself it was to aid her balance, but deep down she knew that wasn't why. She fancied him, she couldn't help it. He was cute. But why did that make her feel guilty? It shouldn't do – she's single – and looking… but yet she can't get 'Faramir' out of her head. It's not like they're dating… or are they? She had no idea how this whole internet dating thing worked. She liked Faramir – she liked him a lot, but they'd never met. Was she supposed to stop looking at guys in 'real life' until then?

"Thanks for tonight," Sybil said as she stood at the bottom of the steps of Grantham House. "I know this isn't part of your job description, but I do greatly appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure," he replied sincerely.

Sybil made her way up the stairs; turning once she reached the front door and smiling as she saw Tom had not moved from his position at the foot of the stairs.

"I just want to make sure you get inside safely," he told her.

Sybil could feel herself biting her lip as he said that, and lifted her hand to give him a little wave. "Goodnight," she said as she unlocked the door.

"Night."

Sybil stood there for a second; watching him.

"I'm going to stand here until you close the door," he explained.

She waved again as she closed the door.

It only took Tom about ten minutes to get home, and his prediction was right. As soon as he walked in, he could see (and smell) Thomas passed out on his sofa. The unforgiving aroma of stale beer and smoke filling his living room made his stomach churn slightly, so he opened a window before making his way into his bedroom, where he quickly got himself ready for bed.

He checked his phone – he'd forgotten to do that after he'd dropped Sybil home, and he'd yet to hear from 'Lady Suffragette."

"Shit," he muttered, as he noticed his phone had died at some point since he'd last checked it. He reached across his bed for his charger, once again cursing Apple for the ridiculously short wires they provided, I mean was it some office worker's idea of a joke? Making ordinary folks contort themselves in ridiculous reach and stretch combinations, just to be able to have power and use the damn piece of tech at the same time?

Beep

He had five new messages.

Thomas (01.35) Fucked! Asleep. Ur sofa.

Lady Suffragette (01.45): Just to let you know that I'm not home yet, but don't worry. I'm still with my friends and will let you know when I get in =)

Lady Suffragette (01.48) You're probably asleep. I hope I didn't wake you.

Lady Suffragette (02.15) Home.

Tom looked at his watch; she'd only text him fifteen minutes ago. Hopefully she was still awake.

Faramir (02.33) Glad you got home safely. I was worried x

Lady Suffragette (02.34) Mmhmm! It looks like you fell asleep. I thought you were going to wait up for me ;)

Faramir (02.34) I did! I didn't realise my phone had died =(

Lady Suffragette (02.35) I'm kidding. I know it's late. I hope you were asleep – dreaming of me ;)

Faramir (02.35) I was awake – and dreaming of you ;)

Lady Suffragette (02.36) I'd ask what you were dreaming about, but I don't think I want to know…

Faramir (02.36) Nice to know you think so highly of me LOL. I was actually just thinking about you. Wondering what you look like and hoping you were going to remember to message me and let me know you got home okay.

Lady Suffragette (02.37) Aw, okay, now I feel a little guilty.

Faramir (02.38) You should do. My feelings were hurt… tears were shed. It wasn't pretty ;)

Lady Suffragette (02.38) Aww, poor baby. Go on, go to sleep. Thank you for waiting up for me.

Faramir (02.39) Surely I deserve a kiss of some sorts for tonight, no? I mean, it's almost 3am and I have been lying here, worrying…

Lady Suffragette (02.40) Oh, okay, just one :x

Faramir (02.40) :xp

Lady Suffragette (02.41) LOL! Is that a tongue?

Faramir (02.41) *whistles innocently* I was just trying to bring a little European culture to our conversation – that's all ;) I'm 1/9 French…

Lady Suffragette (02.42) No you're not LOL

Faramir (02.42) Yeah, I'm really not lol.

Lady Suffragette (02.43) Goodnight =) Thank you again for waiting up!

Faramir (02.44) Bonne Nuit xxx

And with that, Tom placed his phone on the floor and switched off the light.

AN 2: Thank you again! I hope this wasn't a let down after the long wait. Let me know what you think. And if there is anything you'd like to see happen, let me know, you never know… ;)

Tom's new ring tone (thanks to Thomas - and a friend of mine for suggesting it) was, 'Big Poppa' by The Notorious B.I.G