Wow, I'm actually being productive! I know I usually write Mary and Matthew but I love Sybil and Tom a lot too and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. This is the first time I've written something exclusively Sybil/Tom, so I'm a little bit nervous, but hopefully you'll like it! Also, if you'd like to find me on Tumblr, I'm hufflepuffhermione on there. I'd love to hear what you have to say, so please review!

Sybil smiles at every passerby, at every person despite the fact that few actually acknowledge her. She can give away smiles today. She has enough happiness in her.

Today is the day of her freedom.

Tom's hand squeezes hers, and she grins wider as she realizes how close they are. It is by necessity of course; the streets leading to the docks are crowded and she certainly doesn't want to lose him. But there is not better feeling in the world than being close to Tom, and knowing that he is truly hers.

"You're quiet," he says, and it gives her such joy to hear his voice above the din of the crowd.

"I really don't know what to say!" she replies. Her eyes survey the boat they are to board. It is nothing grand, but Sybil doesn't care. She has had enough grandiose to last a lifetime.

"An I love you would suffice," he says playfully, and in response she kisses his cheek.

He turns to her and she gives him a cheeky grin. "Or might that suffice?"

"Very well, although I would like something more..."

Sybil nudges him and giggles. "Not in public! And not until we're married anyway."

"Then how about I take you to a courthouse and marry you right this minute?"

She hits his hand and giggles again. She feels as light as air. "I think we might have two very angry families, and I really don't want to deal with that."

"How was your family this morning when you left?"

She shakes her head. "Papa didn't come to say goodbye..." She leaves that as it is. "Mama came out for the first time since she got sick, and Mary and Edith were both a little bit sad. Mary seemed rather distracted though."

"Maybe she's still thinking about Miss Swire?" Tom asks, and Sybil is about to sigh at his attempt to analyze those upstairs, but he is not a servant anymore. He is allowed to say what he likes. And she doesn't care that Tom feels free to say what he thinks. That is among the many things she admires about him. He knows when to keep his mouth shut but he does not beat around the bush.

Sybil nods. "Perhaps. They were friends, far closer than I would have expected them to be. And I feel sorry for Lavinia. She was very sweet, and no one deserves to meet their end in such a terrible way. But I can't help but think that maybe her death put things in perspective for Papa..."

"By things do you mean us?"

"Is everything about us?" she teases. "But yes, I do. I think her death, and Mama's sickness... I think after Mama nearly died, Papa saw how important his love for her is. Maybe he wanted me to find the same. I don't think he trusts you to make me happy, but he's figured out that I know what I want."

Tom stops at a pier, and takes Sybil's hand in his. Sybil grins. He can do that now, and he will. "You trust me to make you happy though, don't you?"

"Would I be running off to Dublin with you, leaving a luxurious life behind if I didn't?" Sybil challenges. "If I didn't trust you, I don't think I'd be running around Liverpool with the Irish chauffeur."

"Am I just this Irish chauffeur to you now?"

Sybil giggles and allows her head to rest on his shoulder. The smell of seawater is almost relaxing. "Never. You'll always be so much more."

"Good," Tom replies confidently. He grips her hand tighter, almost not believing that he is here. "The boat will probably be ready to board in half an hour."

Sybil looks up at him. "Why did we get here so early then?" She glances around, seeing an empty bench. "Come on, let's go sit down over there."

"I didn't want to miss our boat. We'd have to stay here another night and I really can't afford two rooms..."

"I wouldn't mind sharing a room with you," Sybil says, her voice deeper than usual. "I can manage."

"I know you can," Tom says, snaking his arm around her and rubbing her shoulders. "However, I know how shocked people would be if they were to find out that you were unmarried and sleeping in the room of a chauffeur. They'd ostracize you, and I don't want that for you. You're already giving up so much by marrying me and I'm so glad for it but I know people might..."

Sybil shakes her head. "I'm not giving anything up. I'm just exchanging my old life for something better."

There is no stopping the smile from blooming on Tom's face. "I love you. So much."

"We're so lucky..." Sybil sighs. "There's been so much trouble in the last five years, but we've found our way to each other. Others haven't been so lucky."

"Like?" Tom asks. Sybil's eyes are downcast, and he wants to know what is bothering her.

"Both Edith and Mary... I know Edith thought herself to be in love with Patrick, and so when we thought he could be alive... His departure was hard on her and she's still feeling lost and without love."

Tom nods. "And Mary? Isn't she engaged?"

"She doesn't love Carlisle. Honestly I'm not quite sure why she's engaged to him. I've tried to ask, but she won't tell me. I think... no, I know that she still loves Matthew. It's obvious to anyone with eyes. But they're both too stubborn."

"So she really does love him." Tom says, remembering when Sybil would not convey that information to him. How things have changed.

Sybil blinks, unsure how to answer. "You drove her to the hospital, I think you can tell for yourself. In a way, I think Matthew is oblivious to it all. Of course, he's had other concerns on his mind..."

"I couldn't imagine you dying days before our wedding," Tom whispers, pulling Sybil close. "It's a terrible thought."

"Then don't think about it," Sybil replies, sighing. "Look how lucky we are. And I'm very excited for our life together." She sits up, and the giddiness begins to take hold of her again. She grins, taking his hand again. She can. There are no social restrictions, she is engaged and yet she is going to be free.

She stands up, an energy not previously known overtaking her. Tom follows her lead, and wraps his arm around her waist. Sybil looks up at him. "Kiss me," she says, her eyebrows high and pleading.

To her surprise, Tom hesitates. She has never taken him to be the type to be careful of his image, but he says, "In public? It's busy here."

"Nobody knows us. Nobody cares. And besides, I'm free. Isn't that something to celebrate?"

Tom needs to be implored no more. He pulls her towards him and presses his lips onto hers, full of passion. Perhaps they are not being proper, but Sybil doesn't care. And if Sybil doesn't care, why should he?

When Sybil pulls back, she looks at him, looks into his eyes and grins. "I think we should do that more often."

"I'm inclined to agree," Tom replies, almost breathless.

Sybil's day of emancipation has arrived, and it is better than she ever would have anticipated.

She is with the man she loves, and with him she is free. And there is nothing else that matters.