There are several stories on my computer that I haven't published, but now that I've had some downtime I can get to some of these again. I hope you enjoy this fluffy one-shot that I wrote for fun. There are a few references to events that took place in the series. I wanted to see a fluffy story between Robert and Tom so I wrote this one because I felt like we didn't get enough of that in the show. Enjoy and I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe.

Mary stepped onto the platform and searched through the steam and fog in the train station for her ride. Standing regally near the entrance was the man she had been hoping to see. Walking lightly, she made her way over to him. Her papa was easily recognizable among all the other gentlemen on the platform.

"My goodness…what occasion is this? I haven't been gone long you know."

Robert laughed and greeted her properly with two kisses. "I missed you and thought you could use the company. Did you enjoy yourself in London?"

"Well, I did plenty of shopping, and Aunt Rosamunde took me to some new places. Overall, I'd have to say it was a thrilling time." Mary smiled and Robert led the way towards the car. Soon they were settled in the back of the car and on their way to Downton.

Mary watched her father in between his sighs and rolled her eyes. He can't seem to keep his stress from overtaking his capabilities, even when he is more of an advisor to the big decisions. The heavy lifting was the agent's job.

She looked at her father and sighed. "So how is Tom? I hope he hasn't been running you too ragged. Although by the looks of it he has…" She remarked doing a once over on her father again.

Robert chuckled. "Yes. Although, out the two of us, I think Tom came out of it a bit worse for wear this week." Answering her unasked question, he continued. "Tom has been ill since yesterday evening. Bit of a nasty business."

"Oh dear, we can't have our agent laid up for too long. Nothing will get done."

"I'm sure it won't come to that. You are still a force to be reckoned with, even with your cohort out of commission." Robert quipped.

"You're right of course. I have a few plans I wanted to discuss with Tom, but with him indisposed I think I'll have to have a talk with the Tenants myself."

Robert chuckled and gently meshed his hat. "Oh golly, I can hardly anticipate what you have in mind."

Mary smirked. "You'll have to use your imagination for the time being. You'll know soon enough." She gazed out the window and admired the countryside for the rest of the ride. So used to London's grey and noise, the quiet green hills seemed to entrap her senses as she tried to acclimate herself.

The worn gravel crunched as their car pulled up to the grand entrance of the estate. The chauffer opened the door and helped Lady Mary down.

"Lord Grantham, Lady Grantham has asked for you to meet her in the library when you arrived home."

"Thank you, Carson." Lord Grantham shook off his coat with Carson's help and made his way towards the library.

"Carson, how were things while I was away?" Lady Mary asked.

"Now that you are home, I'm sure things will be much better, M'lady." Carson draped the master's coat over his arm and aimed a significant look at her.

"Well, I had hoped Papa's stress wouldn't be taken out on you, but you are in good hands now. I will have him in tiptop shape in no time."

Carson nodded once and made to leave.

"Wait Carson, I had wanted to ask you. How does Mr. Branson fair?"

Carson huffed. "He is in his room now. Mrs. Hughes has been seeing to his care."

Mary noticed his frustration and thought to pick on the prideful butler. "You must share her just this once Carson. After all, Mr. Branson is the agent as well as part of the family. He too should be in tiptop shape if we are to progress in keeping Downton from falling under."

"Very good, M'lady."

Mary smiled at the back of the butler, amused at the man's internal struggle with staying poised.

She steadily walked up the stairs and made her way towards her brother-in-law's room. Mary knocked lightly on the door's frame and entered the room. Mrs. Hughes was reading, she noticed. The kind woman looked up from her letters and rose from her chair as soon as she saw Mary.

"Lady Mary, welcome home."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." Mary glanced at the bed and noticed Tom was asleep. "How is Mr. Branson, I heard he was taken ill last night."

Mrs. Hughes nodded minutely and glanced at the young man who was soundly sleeping. "Yes, he's been under the weather for a while now, that confounded will of his finally gave out last night, and he was sent to his room for some much-needed rest." The woman sternly accented her words.

"It's good that you are here then, to make sure he doesn't leave while he is still ill."

"He's already tried several times, M'lady. It shouldn't surprise me that he would be this stubborn while ill. I pity his mother."

Mary laughed and sat on the bed. She spoke with little emotion, "I won't lie and say I wasn't concerned. Lord Grantham made it sound so insignificant, like a small cold had taken down our dear revolutionary. Then when I talked with Mr. Carson and he said you were sitting with him, I thought it might have been more serious than he let on."

"Not too serious Lady Mary. I just thought I would check on him once and a while to keep his fever in check." Mrs. Hughes got up from her chair once more. "Excuse me, M'Lady. I should check on things downstairs. Thank you for checking up on Mr. Branson, when you have only just gotten home. I will make sure Anna knows you are here, in case you would like to change."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes." Mary thought of the downstairs workers. For once, she wondered how the collection of people perceived her brother-in-law downstairs when he was just a chauffeur. She saw him as he was now, the agent of this estate, her brother, and most importantly her friend. But it was interesting to see Mrs. Hughes's compassion for the man. According to Anna, to be liked by Mrs. Hughes is considered a great recommendation of character.

Still in her musings she didn't notice Tom shifting on the bed. He looked around the room drearily, trying to make sense of it before noticing Mary. He watched her for a moment, before sitting up to speak.

"That wall must be pretty interesting." His underused vocal cords scratched out.

Mary watched as he tried to maneuver his bed covers and smirked. "Well compared to the company I am in, it's not so bad.

Tom's eyes twinkled. "It seems you have twice the work to do, now that I am forced to stay in bed."

"Mrs. Hughes doesn't seem that strict."

"It wasn't Mrs. Hughes. Your father ordered total bedrest until the doctor examines me himself."

"Papa?" Mary searched his face for more confirmation. "You have been busy. Any minute now and we might see him burst through those doors to make sure you haven't died."

"He's just concerned. I admit my foolishness of trying to hide it for so long, I must have frightened him last night." Tom looked down at the sheets clutched in his hands.

"Try not to escape for his sake then. No wonder he's so stressed. I thought it was more estate business."

"I didn't ask to be ill." Tom paused and looked shocked for a moment. "Wait… did you mention his stress? You think it's because of me." He sounded incredulous.

"Why not? Come on, Tom, don't look so surprised. You have really become a necessary addition to our family. Why wouldn't he be upset that you are ill."

"It's just…" Tom looked so distraught as he tried to puzzle it out. "I'm not Matthew…"

Mary nodded, understanding. If only Sybil could see their family now. She would be so happy to think of Papa's approval of Tom, and his concern for her husband's well-being. "I should think it would have happened eventually. Papa does feel everything so much. His feelings can be hard to distinguish, but I know he thinks of you as a son."

"To hear that from his own voice..." Tom smiled.

"You and I both know that is highly unlikely." They laughed together as they thought of Lord Grantham proclaiming his feelings with the passion of an American.

Mary made to get up, "Rest up a bit more. I expect you to get better soon."

"Well, I will certainly try." Tom eyes were starting to close shut as Mary glanced one more time at the man on the bed. Resigning herself, she decided there was nothing more she could do except call Anna to help her unpack from her long trip. Her thoughts would undoubtably be consumed by the state of her brother-in-law.

"And there's no word on Dr. Clarkson? Thank you, we will wait until then." Robert hung up the phone with a click. Mrs. Hughes said Tom's fever hasn't gone down since he collapsed last night. If only the doctor was in town. The situation is not too serious, but he'd feel better once the doctor had his say on the matter.

"Is he still not back?" Cora sighed. "How disappointing." She unfurled her newspaper.

"Tom will be fine." Robert said, taking a drink of his whiskey.

"I'm sure. By the way, your mother is coming for dinner tonight with Cousin Isobel." His lovely wife perched on the edge of one of the sofas, looking serene, the sight helped ease some of the tension in his brow.

"Good. It'll be nice for them to see Mary now that she's back from London." He sat down in his favorite chair and nursed his drink some more.

"Oh darling. Stop fretting and go up to see him." Cora smiled knowingly up at him.

"I'm not fretting." Robert made eye contact with his wife, then set down his glass. "I just can't get last night out of my head." He felt responsible for not noticing that Tom was ill. There were some obvious signs. Tom's tiredness after making rounds on the property and his headaches. Although he must have been trying hard to conceal it from the entire family.

The scene of the night before came to Lord Grantham's mind as he stared at the floor. He was in the library enjoying a drink after dinner, when Tom joined him.

Tom looked hesitant, shifting constantly in his chair by the fire. Robert cleared his throat before speaking. "Tom have a drink, you look completely shattered."

Tom got up and fiddled with the top of the decanter before pouring a small drink. He shuffled his feet and sighed. "You know I've been talking to my cousin from America…"

"Tom, if this is about whatever was said to you at the party…"

"No, it doesn't have to do with that...I understand my situation here is a bit odd." Tom cleared his throat and continued, "but it has made me realize something."

Tom waited as Carson put more ice out. His gaze towards the wall seemed to be intent on setting it on fire. Pulling at his collar he spoke softer, "It made me realize how much I don't belong here."

"But you do belong here, you are a part of this family."

Tom shook his head. "No this is your world, not mine. It has never been mine."

"But what's changed? Surely there is something more to it than this, or have you been feeling out of place for so long without telling anyone?"

"No, it's not like that at all. I just hadn't seen the difference between us quite as stark as it was shown to me last week. The party with your people made it ever more apparent how I've just been playing a part instead of actually..." Tom sighed deeply as he let his last sentence fade away and rubbed his forehead. "Not that it's been too difficult, but it is disconcerting to be on the wrong foot so often. I don't think I can keep it up for much longer."

Robert couldn't fathom it. "So, you plan to go to America to join your cousin." He looked his son-in-law in the eyes. "Sybbie as well?"

"Yes, I will not be parted from her."

"Tom, we would be very sad to see you go." Robert fidgeted and set his warming glass down on the side table. "Are you truly so unhappy here?"

Tom shook his head and rubbed his temple again. "Not unhappy, just…"

"Sorry Tom, that was an insensitive question." Robert admitted. After a long pause, he sighed, "Let's have no more of this depressing talk tonight and rejoin the ladies."

Robert was almost at the door, when he heard a clatter and glass breaking. He turned and saw Tom leaning against the bookshelf, his glass was shattered on the floor in front of him. Robert rushed to his side, noting Tom's shaking hands.

"Good God man, are you all right?" He supported Tom under his shoulder and waited for a response.

"I just need to sit down," Tom mumbled before his legs gave out, pulling Robert down with him.

"Carson!" Robert yelled. He carefully laid Tom down on the floor and rang the bell string by the fire. He knelt by the young man's side and noticed how pale his color had gone after he passed out. He felt for Tom's pulse and brushed a hand over the unconscious man's forehead and felt the blazing heat of a fever.

"You rang my Lord." Carson looked around the room confused to see Lord Grantham sitting on the floor by the bookshelf. "Are you, all right M'Lord?" Moving closer to the fire he noticed the prone figure on the floor. "I shall ring for the Doctor at once."

The rest was a blur. Carson sending word for the Doctor, who was currently out of town, and Mrs. Hughes and Thomas helping Tom up to his room for some needed rest, who very loudly protested any need for a doctor.

Robert blinked away his reverie and focused on his beautiful wife, who had been watching him. "It's just…one minute he was talking about leaving for America and the next…" Robert averted his gaze.

"Robert…" Cora walked over to him and placed her hand on his leg, trying to soothe him.

"I just…"

"I know."

Robert laughed and smiled despite himself. "If only Sybil could see me now."

"She would be beside herself with joy."

"Yes, well we must get changed. We have company coming over." He moved from his chair and offered his arm to his lovely wife. He was grateful for the distraction company would bring. At least they could have some stimulating conversation about Mary's adventures in London at dinner.

After getting changed he headed down the hall to prepare for his Mother's arrival. He hesitated as he walked by a particular door. He could hear some gentle coughs coming from the other side and surmised that it's occupant must be awake. He could also hear a woman's voice that he recognized as Mrs. Hughes's. She was talking in a gentle tone and a weaker voice answered her, but the words were incomprehensible. Not wanting to intrude he kept walking, and after making up his mind he decided he'd come back after dinner to look in and say goodnight.

Anyone walking into the dining area, would get the impression of a thriving, elegant party, all the guests were talking in an excited fervor from Mary's return to Downton. The dinner table was humming with conversations, but it was Mama's voice that caught Robert's attention.

No doubt Tom's absence at dinner would come up and that it would be Mama to steer the conversation to a that topic. She had a nose for trouble and anything to do with Tom always gave her lots to talk about.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that we are missing someone. What is our Firebrand up to tonight? Judging from the hordes of people I saw gathered outside the courtyard I'd say there is some kind of political meeting tonight and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to protest?"

"What exactly would he be protesting Granny?" Edith said incredulously while taking a sip of wine. "Tom would hardly protest the action of freedom of speech and a good political discussion. Lord knows he won't get that here."

Cousin Isobel spoke up, "I agree, he has a keen political mind, no doubt he is offering great points of discussion on whatever they are discussing."

"I'm all for freedom of speech," Mama leaned in slightly, "as long as it is the right kind of speech." She said with an all-knowing tone that left little room for further discussion. There was no getting through to her when she had wisdom to impart.

Mary cut into the discussion, "Be that is it may, Tom is not at that meeting tonight. He's upstairs being tended to by Mrs. Hughes. Seems he's been busy keeping this place from collapsing at the expense of his health while I've been away to London."

Robert couldn't hear it in her cool tone but could see in the crease between her eyebrows that she felt a little guilty for her brother-in-law's current predicament.

"Oh, how terrible for him. I hope his health improves soon." Cousin Isobel spoke emphatically towards Mary. "I know the estate is in good hands in the meantime."

Mama chuckled, "Well that is surprising. I don't recall that the old agent-"

"Mr. Jarvis." Edith provided.

"Oh yes," Mama nodded shortly and continued, "Jarvis hardly got sick at all when he was the agent. I thought for sure we'd be in better hands with a young man like Branson to take it on but seems old and worn and doesn't equate to much these days in terms of health. There's hope for me yet."

"Well good old Jarvis never did much besides let our money safely slip through the cracks. It's no surprise he never got ill when he hardly left his cottage except to come here and tell Papa all was well when it clearly wasn't." Mary boldly aimed this quip at her grandmother.

"Now Mary, that is no way to talk about poor Mr. Jarvis." Cora spoke gently.

"No, I quite agree." Mama raised one of her eyebrows and tilted her head towards her granddaughter. "Boldness and energy are also for the youth. Branson has plenty of both, which I think will be a great help in these trying times."

"That's quite a compliment coming from you Cousin Violet." Isobel smiled.

"Only in certain situations but I suppose in this instance it could be taken that way."

"I can see we are reaching the end of the dinner. Shall we go through." Cora rose and started leading the way to the library for coffee and drinks.

Robert enjoyed his drinks and followed the conversations for the rest of the night but hardly offered anything more to the discussions. Tonight, he preferred to let their voices wash over his thoughts as he got wrapped up in the quips made back and forth between the ladies.

As the ladies excused themselves, and his mother left for the night, he thought it an appropriate amount of time to go upstairs as well. He said goodnight to Cora and his daughters.

Making his way down the hallway once again, he paused at his son-in-law's door once again. Steeling himself and rehearsing in his head the conversation he might have he slowly opened the door to the confines of a room he hardly ever entered.

The heat from the built-up fire in the room was unbearable and he tried not to fidget with discomfort. Robert made his way gently to the abandoned chair by the bed and took stock of the sleeping figure on the bed.

A folded cloth lay over Tom's forehead, no doubt put there by Mrs. Hughes to help with the effects of the burning fever still taking it's hold over him. Robert was hesitant but determined to get a gauge of his son-in-law's condition himself, so he reached for the cloth.

It was still damp but too warm to be doing any good. He looked over and saw that it had left beads of condensation across Tom's brow, which was creased as he mumbled in his sleep. He dowsed it in the cool water set beside the bed and once again laid it across Tom's burning head wincing at the heat he felt there.

Tom must be in a deep sleep to remain unconscious throughout Robert's ministrations. Surely the young man wouldn't wake if Robert were to speak his thoughts gently to the still room. Robert felt embarrassed already from his previous actions but he was determined to speak his mind.

"You truly are a handful." He managed to say, his voice so unused to speaking softly. Encouraged by the lack of response or movement, Robert continued. "I don't think it fair for someone who is not even my blood to make me worry so much. Surely I thought you were more trouble when you were off spouting your radical ideals and concocting plans for ink soup." He chuckled in spite of himself.

"But in your current state, and without my anger to fuel me, it has been harder to ignore. Truthfully, if you were to go to America, I would miss dear Sybbie, but I would miss you as well because I do think of you as family."

Robert chuckled to himself once again and looked over Tom's slackened face to see if he had stirred. "If dear Sybil could see us now."

He shook his head at his own foolishness for speaking his thoughts aloud and tried to blame the heat he felt burning his cheeks on the effects of the fire warming the room.

Robert remained by Tom's bedside for another half hour or so and found himself replacing the cooling cloth as needed while his thoughts wandered. He eventually left the stifling room, making sure things were in good order before heading towards his own bed.

The next day Dr. Clarkson arrived at Downton Abbey having just returned from his trip and declared Tom's fever would go down soon after a few more days of rest. He firmly agreed that at least one week off any strenuous Agent duties would help in his recovery and keep him from relapsing.

When Tom was well enough to join the family for breakfast Robert couldn't stop a smile from breaking out as he watched his son-in-law leave the table to make some phone calls before they were to walk down to the cottages together. Cora caught his gaze and smiled knowingly.

He could hide his emotions pretty well, but with the feeling of kinship he felt with Tom and to be doing normal business things with him again, it was harder to keep it shut in. Maybe one day, he'd tell Tom how much he means to him while the young man is conscious, but Robert has a feeling it would take a lot of alcohol for him to do it knowingly. And he was particularly proud of his acting abilities to avoid any slip ups while inebriated.