the_garage | Is This Technically a Date

Is This Technically a Date

[cont’d from here]

She checked her phone one more time as she used it for its flashlight feature. Coming home always seemed to be adventurous, though tonight’s dinner conversation— on Christmas Eve of all night’s was not a good one. She had at least four glasses of wine, her mother commenting on it. Sybil decided to forego after dinner conversation and precisely waited to make sure Tom had taken her grandmother home. Or maybe she had her own way home.

Sybil didn’t care. She just wanted a good holiday, and so far it was spent talking about eligible sons of Lord So and So or some Duke she couldn’t even remember now. Couldn’t she have autonomy over herself? Was this her life?

Shrugging her jacket, she caught herself on the stairs before nearly erupting in laughter. She had to quiet herself though. I mean ultimately she had asked the chauffeur to take her for takeout. No one could say anything, but it was probably improper.

But things were growing quite improper with Tom. She just didn’t care to keep it at bay this night.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He hadn't been having a bad night, however it might seem being alone at work on Christmas Eve, before Sybil accidentally texted him. With his family far - and honestly before that - he was pretty content spending his holidays with a book and a bottle of whiskey. Luckily, he'd had all of one drink at this point, because an evening with her - even if he was just her escape plan - beats just about any holiday he's celebrated in adulthood.

It takes him a matter of moments to get back into his uniform, mostly - he's not wearing this jacket sitting in some shop eating, so he pulls on a non approved shirt under. He lingers, as inconspicuous as he's capable of being, outside the back door. If anyone asks, he's going to have casually forgotten that the Dowager had other arrangements tonight. He can't very well say 'Lady Sybil texted me her family's irritating and she wants curry.'

She didn’t mean to accidentally slam the door closed, but after pausing to see if anyone heard, she slipped to the garage, finding the car already running for her. Staying bundled, she couldn’t help the smile when she saw him, like a breath of fresh air. She never needed to keep up airs with him. She could speak as freely as she wished. He seemed to like it when she was unbridled even better.

“Happy Christmas, Tom,” she told him. They probably still had another two hours or so to go til it was actually Christmas, but there was a very good chance they could still be at the curry place across town. Luckily it was one of the only things still open at this time locally. It was one of the things she missed about being at uni and not back home.

How's he meant to keep from wanting to see her as much as he does when - Well, when she exists, but also when she smiles like that when she sees him. He smiles back at her, just as instinctive, her presence and the fact that he provides some level of comfort to her both make him feel settled, content.

"Happy Christmas," he leaves off the title because - well - and also her name, in case he's used his one pass for this evening. "Do they know you're going?" Not that he cares, particularly, only to be prepared for what might be waiting when they get back.

“No,” she told him, a sly smile forming. Not everyone needs to know everything. “All their doors where closed. Not even sure if anyone is still awake.”

Maybe one of her sisters, but the Abbey was mostly asleep now. At least she hadn’t seen any lights on upstairs. Moving to the back of the car, she waited for him to open the door. He seemed to still insist on that, unless she made the first move. Sybil could be often independent like that.

“Did anyone stop you?” She asked. She didn’t want to have to explain why she was with him this late. Even if a “I had a few too many and want takeout” was genuine fact. Sybil still knew there was a very large part of her that just wanted him to cheer her up.

"No, no one was around to say anything to me," he replied, opening the door. He knew it might seem odd or silly, to cling to that, but he thought they ought to keep some level of propriety here.

If she knew that was his reasoning, she probably would have thrown the door open herself with the kind of mood she’s in. But she was content with where things were between them. Climbing into the car, she sat back and got comfortable for the ride. Plus the heat was nice.

Once he was in the car, she looked at him in the mirror. “Thank you for taking me.”

What she doesn't know. He climbs into the front seat, starting the car acts pulling out smoothly. He glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "You really don't need to do that."

“But I do. It’s a terrible inconvenience to pull you out of your rooms on Christmas Eve to placate me,” she told him gently as she leaned against the window. It felt good that they were leaving this place. She could feel tension leaving her body as they pulled out.

"Stop that, I've told you it isn't. You know I wouldn't say that if it weren't true." His tone is just as gentle, even if the words aren't. "I wasn't up to anything much different then I am most nights."

She gave him another small smile. “On Christmas Eve?” She asked, a little surprised. She knew not everyone in the house had family to go back to, and she imagined the trip back to Ireland might be a little more costly.

"On Christmas eve. My mother would be furious, of course, if she knew I was skipping midnight mass to reread a book and have a drink, so I'll pretend otherwise when she calls tomorrow." He was sure she knew he wasn't a regular church goer, but if he actually told her, well.

She laughed lightly at that, looking out at the passing lights. Her family was always fortunate to be together and to have the holidays planned. “Well I’m glad to get to spend it with you then,” she told him. No one should be alone on Christmas.

"I couldn't ask for better company," he replied, honestly. Possibly too honestly, but then, that's just who he is.

She found herself touched at his words, quiet for a moment as she considered what he said. Sybil wasn’t sure what to say back, but she was aware there was more to his words.

“Was there anything you did for Christmas? Traditions or something?” She asked him, wondering if there was anything they could recreate.

"The standard set, mostly, same as you see everywhere. Plus midnight mass, and Ma still makes - well, she did - caraway cake. Now she emails us each the recipe every year. And one of my brother's does the Christmas swim." He shrugged, smiling. The holidays don't generally make him any more homesick - birthdays, dates like that, they get him. It still feels nicer than he expected, to be asked about it.

"Did you want to do something? We could try one of the stores for cake-- not sure if you want to go to Mass," she said as she tried to straighten her hair. She wasn't Catholic, and she certainly wasn't dressed for it, but she might be able to get away with it.

Sybil wanted to make sure that he got to do what he wanted for Christmas as well. Whatever his traditions were. It seemed lonely, and while curry could be gotten at any point, she wanted to make sure he was okay.

Touched, very much so, he watched her for a moment, a small, contented smile on his face. If she hadn't wanted him to fall for her, she should've tried not being such a good person, he thought, having to keep himself from laughing a little.

"No - but thank you, I appreciate that, really. I'm not particularly religious myself, and I don't really bother with the cake on my own either. I'm painting a pretty sad picture, aren't I? Must sound like I've either lost all my traditions or I don't care. My favorite part was always everyone sitting around, talking, after. More people than should have ever fit in our house, for certain, and if you walked around enough you could hear a conversation on just about every topic."

She moved forward in her seat, to lean on the one in front of her. She gave him a smile. "I get it. Not everyone is overly festive," she replied back, thinking about what it must be like at Christmas back home for him.

"That's what it's like here. I'm sure we'll have some guests, Matthew, his mother, Grandmother, plus all of us," she counted off. Hopefully Christmas dinner was better than Christmas Eve.

"What about you? What are your traditions? Other than the big fancy dinner." And the matchmaking, he didn't add, for obvious reasons. Even if he'd made a speech in his own head about it when he got that message, that was definitely not his place to say, for reasons that had nothing to do with their respective positions. That was hers to be angry about, regardless.

She draped herself on the seat, humming while she thought. "We used to have hot cocoa when we were kids. Mary would always run up to Mr. Carson and tell him goodnight before we went to bed. I think it was just always spent together, you know. I think my parents prefer it that way," she told him, already forgetting about the unpleasantness with her grandmother.

"Too old for hot cocoa now?" He teased, happy to see her back to her usual, cheerful self, "That's good - that's how it ought to be, regardless of where your family's from or even what type of family it is."

"I think that's how I would always want it. To be surrounded by the people I care about the most," she told him with a smile. It was the most important part of Christmas for her after all.

"I hope you always have that," he replied, sincerely, biting his tongue on everything else he wanted to say about it. His mother had always told him one way or the other, he'd have to learn not to say things eventually. He doubted this is what she expected.

They'd arrived, though, and he took the opportunity, parking and getting out quickly enough to open the door for her. This was a purely selfish move, he couldn't pass up having her hand on his even for just that couple of seconds.

The Indian place wasn't in a particularly nice place of town, but it was the only thing lit up the block. It's neon calling to whatever stragglers made it out on Christmas Eve. She took his hand when he opened her door, bundling into her jacket. In her slightly buzzed state she hadn't worn a warmer one.

"Thank you, Tom."

"Of course." He noticed the movement, and, without really thinking about it, reaching into the car for his non uniform coat, "Here. It'll be even colder when we leave." He could stay in his uniform, it was warm enough, and he didn't really care if whoever was here knew where he worked.

She stopped when he offered his coat. It wasn't a gesture she was entirely expecting, but it was very kind. Pausing to look up at him, she smiled. "Thank you, Tom. I wasn't thinking when we left," she told him.

"Understandable," he replied, stepping away, "You were in a hurry."

She had to tear her gaze away from his before heading toward the restaurant. The smells from the curry place were already filling the air, and it was much easier to think about that than what she almost nearly did thirty seconds prior.

"Honest, whatever you like is on me," she told him as they entered the restaurant.

"I didn't think you didn't mean it," he replied, following her in and glancing around. He hadn't been here before, generally preferring to cook for himself or go to a pub, if he went out. Smelled good, though, and he trusted her taste. "One of whatever you're getting will do, I'm sure."

She stepped up to the counter, half worn where previous customers have lined up. Placing two orders of red curry with rice, she moved to the soda fountain and offered him his cup. It kind of felt nice. Her cheeks were still red from the wine earlier. Maybe that was why she let her feel those butterflies in her stomach. After all it was the first time they were out in public together outside of his regular hours.

“Thank you for taking me out on Christmas Eve. You might have just saved it for me,” she admitted.

He raised an eyebrow at her, smiling and taking his cup, "Well, if I did, that was easy - I think you may have done more of the work than you realize."

She smiled again. “Or it was just going that badly,” she said with a nudge to his arm. Though she was marketable cheerier now.

"Happy to be of service, in any case, milady." He leaned back against the counter, "So - is there an interesting story behind you knowing this place is open this late?"

She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped before looking back at him. "It isn't my story to tell, but I know it from nights out with Mary," she told him, giving a knowing look. There was entirely more than met the eye when it came to her eldest sister.

"Really? Well, that's a bit of a surprise. Alright," he nodded, "Kudos to her."

She laughed, leaning on the counter. It was like she had a secret tucked away, smiling back at him. "The Crawley girls may surprise you, yet," Sybil told him still smirking. They were capable of a lot more than what people gave them credit for-- even Edith.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." Then, to play it down some cause he knew what that could sound like, "No one should underestimate any of you."

That perked her up even more as the cashier came back with their tray of food. They had their pick of tables, about seven or so that dotted the rest of restaurant. She wished the woman happy holidays and moved to one of the tables where they could sit by themselves.

"I like it here though. It's just far enough away from home that we aren't always recognized, you know," she told him. It was less pomp and circumstance, and more that they could just be themselves. Even Mary could appreciate that.

"That makes sense," he replied, following her to the table. "Can't say I understand it exactly, I haven't experienced that as such, but I can imagine it gets old."

She straightened when he said that, feeling like a wall between them was breaking. It was kind of nice talking about this— to actually talk about what it was like in her position. “It isn’t that it’s old. I wouldn’t complain about the privilege I have. There are a great many people in the community who have always worked the lands my family owned, worked for my family themselves. But—“ She scrunched her eyebrows. “Sometimes you just want to be away from it all. To just live.”

Once she picks a table she sat across from him, leaving the tray with the two plates between them. Smiling, she took her fork and looked back at him. It felt oddly relaxing being with him. He genuinely cared about her, what she thought, and what she went through. He really had no reason to, but it was nice just being like this, the girl Sybil instead of Lady Sybil or the Earl’s third daughter.

"I don't know if I'd call it complaining, really, just to say you need a break, or to point the limits some types of privilege can put on a person." He shrugged, "But, like I said, not my experience. Regardless, I'm very glad you - and your sisters - have a place to go to take that break."

“We don’t come all that often,” she admitted as she took her first bite, watching him to see if he liked it.

“It’s something not really talked about. Just expected.”

Oh, right, food. Because he is most certainly not meant to be just sitting her, talking to her, watching. He nods, when he tries it. "Pretty good. Course free food does always taste better." He grinned.

"No, well, I imagine you don't get many opportunities, do you? But if it means something, whenever you do, that's a silver lining, isn't it?"

She laughed through her nose at his comment, giving her time to take another bite before shrugging at his other comment. “It’s a rare— but enjoyable feeling,” Sybil explained, feeling it right then.

"Rarity can make something sweeter, just as much as it can lessen. People don't focus on that so much." Lord, he hoped (although not as much as he should) he was the only one seeing two damn meanings to every third thing he said. He took a long drink, half to shut himself up for a minute.

“Maybe,” She conceded, though nothing was spoiling this evening with him. Even if she could never admit that out loud. “But it doesn’t change how it feels in the moment.”

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Is This Technically a Date

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

I NEED TO REWATCH THE CHRISTMAS EPISODES... I don't remember anything

Re: I NEED TO REWATCH THE CHRISTMAS EPISODES... I don't remember anything

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

somehow missed this

fair. We do have a lot, lol

<3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject