Decided to go back and add another chapter to this fic...NOW ONE FOR NEW YEARS! Follows the same timeframe/storyline as the previous chapter. Nothing like sweet and sexy Sybil & Tom smutty goodness to celebrate the New Year. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! And may 2013 be filled with great positive changes...and even more great Sybil/Tom fanfic. ENJOY!

"In with a Bang!"

New Year's Eve, 1918

1918 was ending. 1919 could only bring great change and hope for a world in need of healing after such an atrocious war. That was certainly the sentiment that was felt amongst the officers who were still healing at the Downton Convalescent Home. And that was also the sentiment that was shared amongst members of Sybil's family.

It was Edith's idea that a party should be thrown in honor of the New Year and the new beginnings it would bring. Sybil fully supported this idea, and so did Granny, much to everyone's surprise. They were even more surprised when Granny agreed with Sybil that the party should be open not just to the officers and members of the family, but all members of staff as well. "Why can't we have the Servant's Ball on New Year's Eve this year? It will bring so much happiness to everyone; truly, we should all be celebrating these new beginnings!"

"I agree with Sybil," Violet Crawley announced. "What we really need is a reminder of how things used to be—a call back to those simpler times; and the Servant's Ball will be just the thing."

Sybil suppressed her groan as much as possible. Oh leave it to Granny to find a way of taking the point of New Year's—the celebration of things that are NEW—and trying to hold onto the way things USED TO be. Still, she would hold her tongue this time, because she knew that her grandmother was the only force that would convince her father to accept the idea.

"But do we have enough time to plan such a party?" her mother asked, looking concerned.

"I'll help!" Edith announced. She was grabbing any opportunity to keep her mind occupied, especially after the events that involved the mysterious Patrick Gordon. So it was decided; Downton would have a New Year's Eve ball, and all the servant's would be invited to attend, and it would be a "grand affair" (or as grand as it could be with recovering officers, hospital staff, and servants in attendance).

The weeks passed and Edith took the project to heart. Sybil watched from a distance as her sister made all the preparations, calling decorators, talking with Mrs. Patmore about preparing as much food as possible ahead of time, and sending out invitations to any of the officers who lived close by, inviting them, as well as their families to attend. Sybil kept busy at the hospital…as well as with her latest secret…Tom Branson.

Her friendship with the chauffeur wasn't a great secret; many of the servants were aware of how Sybil talked to Tom (although she was sure to call him "Branson" when they weren't alone), and Sybil was "infamous" for forming friendships with people across boundaries. She had even grown close to Thomas of all people, much to the surprise of Mrs. Hughes, Anna, Bates, Daisy, and even Tom. But her "friendship" with Tom was something much, much deeper.

The barriers had been broken. Now, when they were alone, they would spend long minutes locked in a heated embrace, kissing and caressing and murmuring words of love in both English and Irish. They were making plans; they had discussed that when the last of the officers had left the house, they would run away together to be married, and then go to Dublin to make their living. Sybil had never been more excited or terrified of anything in her life. But she loved Tom; she loved him so much and she refused to let him go, no matter the consequences.

It was around Christmas that things began to take a turn towards the…"forbidden". At least that was what she had been taught when she was younger. First they were caressing while kissing…then Sybil encouraged him to touch her in places that a "proper gentleman would never touch", at least not until they were married. Then, those caresses became bolder, and soon Tom was unbuttoning her blouse to touch her skin, as well as letting his fingers wander beneath her skirt. But none of that compared to the "present" Tom had given her that Christmas night, in the storage cupboard on the third floor of the village hospital. It had been the most strange, beautiful, and erotic moment of her life. And the thing that happened at the end…when her body began to tremble and tingle all over and she felt as if an explosion had just…erupted inside her! Oh, how she wanted to experience that again. But she knew it was difficult, because despite their forbidden behavior, they truly were trying to wait until after they were married. Still…every night since Christmas, Sybil had been dreaming about sharing such a moment with Tom again.

But she would settle for the second thing she dreamed about: dancing with him. They had missed all their opportunities in the past for dancing, because of some conflict or another with the Servant's Ball. And during the War, they didn't have any (as if not having them was a sign of patriotic sacrifice). So she would finally have that experience of holding Tom and he holding her, and no one would question it. Well, Mary might, Sybil thought with a frown. Her sister was aware that Tom had feelings for her, but Mary was so occupied in caring for Matthew as he continued to recover, that maybe she wouldn't notice anything?

"We'll have to be careful," Sybil told him one afternoon. She had told everyone that she would be leaving for a shift at the hospital, which was true…she just failed to mention that the shift didn't start for another hour. She was cuddled in the back of the Renault with Tom, who was holding her close, pausing her speech every so often to kiss her lips. "We can't—MMmmMmmm—make it obvious—MmmmMMMmm—about how we—MmmMmM—Tom, this is serious!" She swatted his chest as he continued to kiss her.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "I know love, I know," he kissed the tip of her nose and then her frowning brow. "I promise not to hold you too close…and to not let my hands wander…" his hands began to wander then down her back…until they reached her rump and gave it a seductive squeeze.

She swatted him again, although she couldn't deny she loved the feel of his hands. "Unless you can outrun a bullet, I think that's very wise."

"Of course, there is another problem," he sighed, looking serious now.

Sybil frowned and looked into his eyes to see what was wrong. "What?"

"It's New Year's Eve," he murmured, his lips hovering close to hers. "How will I be able to keep myself from kissing you when the clock strikes twelve?"

Sybil eyed him and then laced her fingers through his hair before bringing his lips to hers. "Then we'll just have to pretend its midnight now," she whispered, before giving in to the promise of his kiss.

A few days later, the day and the event had arrived. It was held in the great hall, and there was various paper crowns for people to wear, left over from Christmas. The servants were dressed in their finery, although their finery seemed very simple compared to the grand dresses of her mother, grandmother, and sisters. Sybil did wear a dress that was not her uniform, however she chose to make it one that she hoped wouldn't outshine Anna or Jane or Daisy or any of the other servants who were attending. The party soon got underway, and Sybil watched as more people arrived from below stairs, as well as from outside. Many officers attended, and Sybil greeted them as well as her friends who worked at the hospital. She was asked to dance by one officer, and agreed, although she kept her eyes peeled for Tom. She danced with Bates then, and after him, with Thomas. Oh gracious, where was he? Why hadn't he arrived—

"I'm cutting in, Thomas."

Sybil did everything she could to suppress her smile. Thomas frowned at Tom, but Sybil looked up at him, her eyes shining with happiness at seeing him there.

"It's alright, Thomas," she assured the former first footman. "I'd rather trample on his feet than yours."

Tom rolled his eyes at her snide comment, and then swept her away from the grumbling footman. "What makes you think I won't trample on yours?" he asked with a smirk.

"Ha!" Sybil grinned. "You would never do anything to harm my poor little feet."

"Little?" he looked down at her slippers. "Beggin' your pardon, milady, but my brother has smaller—ow!"

"Oh dear," Sybil sighed. "It appears that one of my giant, mutated, freakish feet slipped onto your delicate toes."

He gave her a look, before breaking into a smile and sweeping her around in a circle, causing her to gasp and nearly squeal. "Careful!" she hissed into his ear. "We don't want people to stare!"

"Can't be helped," he whispered back. "You're the most beautiful woman in this room; it's only natural for all of them to stare."

She blushed at his compliment, and wished that things were different, because she wanted nothing more than to kiss him right now. But somehow she found the strength to withstand the temptation, as well as the strength to release him when the music had ended, and dance with someone else. She watched as Tom danced with other members of her family, including Edith, her mother, and Granny. Yet she noticed that he did avoid Mary, and Mary was keeping a watchful eye, much to Sybil's disappointment. However, as the evening wore on, and as the wine and champagne began to flow more freely, her sister's eyes shifted to Matthew, who was trying to keep a smile on his face despite the fact that he couldn't truly dance with the rest of them, not like he used to. Mary rose to keep him company (neither Lavinia or Sir Richard were present) and soon the two of them were laughing and making merry, which was perfect, because Sybil took the opportunity to once again dance with Tom.

"It will be midnight soon," he whispered in her ear.

"Yes," she sighed, wishing again that he could kiss her.

"Out with the old and in with the new…"

"Indeed," she murmured with a smile. "And always in with a bang!"

Tom lifted a brow at this. "A bang you say?" She nodded…and felt her knees go weak as she saw that dark, seductive look in the depths of his eyes. "Well milady…I must make sure to help you welcome it with a…bang."

"Tom…" she murmured his name in warning, but she couldn't deny her heart was racing with delicious thoughts about what he was promising her.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered in her ear.

She remembered what happened the last time he had asked her that question, and she practically melted against him at the thought. But…could they? HERE? With…all these people?

…And yet the idea had her blood racing and burning with anticipation and excitement.

"Yes," she answered, her voice low and husky.

He grinned…and danced them back to a corner of the room, away from the crowd. "Take off your knickers," he whispered in her ear.

Sybil gasped and moaned slightly at his order. "Will I get them back?" she asked, blushing and giggling as she remembered how he still had claim to her knickers from Christmas.

"I don't make any promises," he teased.

She bit her lip…and then carefully, her eyes never leaving his…wriggled her body just so…sliding them down her legs without having to lift her skirt…and let them slip down to the floor, until they were puddled at her feet.

Tom quickly bent to retrieve them, pausing just slightly, his face near her body, and Sybil gasped as she realized his nose was sniffing her! "You smell divine," he growled, but he quickly rose back to his feet, her knickers once again in his property, and he stuffed them, like before, into his jacket pocket.

"Now…put your arms on my shoulders," he whispered, "and part your legs, but only just slightly…" she nodded her head, anticipating more. She was growing hotter and wetter by the second, and that tight, delicious feeling was curling in the pit of her stomach, yearning for more—yearning for him.

"Sybil…" he leaned close, and she felt his hand hovering over the waistband of her skirt. "I'm going to put my hand down your skirt," he told her, and she gripped his shoulders to keep herself from fainting at the erotic promise. "I'm going to touch you as I have before," he murmured. "As I did on Christmas," he promised. "I'm going to slip my fingers inside your body…and make you tremble with pleasure…and I'm not going to stop…until it's 1919."

"Tom…" she moaned, as she felt his fingers move beneath the waistband of her skirt. Her legs were shaking, and she was sure they would give out from under her if he weren't holding her and she weren't gripping his strong, muscular shoulders.

"Now you can't scream, love," he told her. "You can't bring any attention to us…you're going to have to bite your lip to keep yourself from screaming."

"I wish I could bite yours," she gasped, feeling wicked for her words, but smiling because she knew it would drive him mad with desire.

"Aye, I wish you could too," he groaned at the erotic image. And without warning, she gasped as she felt his finger tease at the opening of her womanhood.

He watched her face as he began to move his fingers closer…running them up and down the wet lips of her sex, before slowly…letting one sink inside.

"OH!"

"Shhhh…" he whispered, carefully moving his finger in and out of her body.

"Oh Tom…I…I don't think I can keep quiet," she whimpered. It felt so good…feeling him touch her like this. The way his finger, long and thick, slid into her body…and then slide back out, before sliding back in…oh gracious, she was going to scream!

"Try, love, try…" he growled, his own body on fire, his own desires raging inside. If he could, he would take her right now against this wall and end their torture. But not yet. Soon—but not yet. However, he loved pleasuring her, and he knew after what had happened on Christmas, that Sybil was craving more of that pleasure…and he was craving the urge to give it to her. He loved how responsive she was; he couldn't wait to make love to her, he couldn't wait to have a life with her where they no longer had to play this game of "servant and lady" but could truly be equals—husband and wife, man and woman, lovers and friends.

No, if Tom had his way, neither one of them would get much sleep on their wedding night. And he had a feeling Sybil wouldn't mind that either.

He sunk another finger into her body. Sybil gripped his shoulders and gasped and then quickly bit her lip to keep from screaming her pleasure. He pumped both fingers…and glanced at a nearby mantle where he saw a clock. Just a few more minutes.

The motions of his fingers started slowly…but began to build. More and more, faster and faster. First it was just the tips of his fingers…and then the he moved them deeper, up to the first knuckle…and then to the second.

"Tom…Tom…Tom…" she kept whimpering his name, her eyes squeezed closed as the pleasure continued to build and build.

"I love you," he growled in her ear. "I love you…God, you have no idea how much I love seeing you like this…how beautiful you are, how you glow when you're enraptured with pleasure…" he kept pumping, more and more, faster, deeper, faster, deeper…

"Please…" she gasped. "I…I need…I need…"

"Soon, love," he promised. "It's almost midnight…"

"Oh God!" she moaned, digging her nails into his shoulder.

A countdown had begun behind them.

"10! 9! 8! 7! 6…!"

Tom grinned and moved his thumb just a little…until it was touching the crowning jewel of her womanhood.

"5! 4! 3! 2…!"

He rubbed his thumb, ever so gently across her clitoris, and Sybil came undone in his arms.

"TOM!" she gasped.

"1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

Tom moved in then, his mouth covering hers in a searing kiss and swallowing the pleasured screams of her orgasm that threatened to fill the room. People were clapping and wishing one another blessings and good fortunes for a happy and brighter new year. Only when the trembling began to subside…did Tom lift his mouth away.

Sybil stared back at him…a beautiful and satisfied smile on her face. He grinned and carefully moved his hand, enjoying the look of disappointment on her face when his fingers left her body. He brought his hand up, and Sybil gasped and blushed as she watched Tom lick his fingers clean. "Mmmmmm…" he growled. "1918 was a very good vintage." She somehow had the strength to swat his chest, and he only chuckled. "But I have a feeling that every year with my Sybil will be delicious."

"Don't be crude," she chastised, righting her skirt and fixing her blouse and blushing as she remembered he had her knickers in her pocket.

"Best return to the festivities," he sighed. "Can you walk?"

"Don't look so smug, Tom Branson," Sybil muttered, pointing her nose up in the air in her best "Dowager Countess" impression.

"It's impossible not to when you're the man that gets to bring Lady Sybil Crawley to heights of ecstasy."

She blushed and would have swatted him again, until Edith came up to her and Sybil put on a smile and prayed that her face showed no hints of what she and Tom had just been doing. "There you are! I was looking for you during the countdown but didn't see you."

"Someone stepped on my foot during the last dance," Tom explained with a sympathetic face. "Luckily for me, a kind nurse saw to my care."

Sybil gave him a look, but he just looked so innocent and sweet that it was impossible not to smile at him.

"Oh dear!" Edith said with concern. "Well, perhaps you should go and lay down?"

"Yes, Branson, that sounds like the best thing to do," Sybil agreed. "Best to lie down and…see to your ailments."

Her eyes fell then to the rather obvious bulge that was showing in his trousers. Edith hadn't noticed because Sybil was quick to step in front of him and keep the lower portion of his body hidden.

Tom blushed but nodded his head. "Yes, probably for the best…" he turned then and whispered to Sybil, "I'll go ring in the new year with a bang, too."

Sybil nibbled her lip, and watched as Edith wandered away to speak with several officers. "Shame I can't return the favor," she said with a blush. She hadn't had the chance to touch him, not yet. That was her first resolution for the New Year; to bring Tom Branson to the same earth-shattering ends as he had brought her.

"New Year's resolution?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

She returned the smile. "My thoughts exactly."

New Year's Eve, 1921

"Sybil?" Edith was calling for her, but she was a little bit…occupied at the moment.

"Oh God…"

"Sybil?"

"Love, I…I don't know if I can…"

"Sybil, where are you?"

"OH GOD!"

His cries filled her ears, as his seed filled her mouth. Sybil looked up at him and grinned as she licked him clean, and Tom groaned and caressed her beautiful cheeks as she did so. "God I love you…" he managed to gasp, once his breathing had returned to normal.

"Happy New Year darling," she purred, giving his cock one last kiss, before helping him place it back inside his trousers.

"In with a bang, indeed!" he groaned, helping her back to her feet.

"SYBIL BRANSON, ARE YOU IN THERE?"

Sybil groaned and rolled her eyes, and quickly smoothed down her hair and ran her fingers along her chin to make sure there was no "incriminating residue" left on her face. With a reluctant sigh, she opened the broom closet door.

Edith was standing outside, her arms folded across her chest and shaking her head at the two of them; they both looked sheepish and were blushing deeply, but they also looked very…satisfied. "Honestly," she said with a shake of her head. "Mama and Papa have been asking for you! Papa's about to make his New Year's toast and we're all waiting for you!" she hissed.

"Sorry," Sybil muttered, although if truth be told, she wasn't feeling that sorry. "We um…well you see—"

"What? Lost an earring? A button? Did someone step on Tom's foot again and you had to 'nurse him back to health'?"

Sybil winced, and then with a sheepish smile began to murmur, "well it's funny that you should mention that, because—"

"Oh please," Edith groaned, lifting a hand to silence her. "Why couldn't you have gone upstairs to your bedroom?"

"Because we didn't want to be that obvious," Sybil hissed. Tom was just standing behind the two of them, his face burning with embarrassment, but at the same time, he couldn't help but smile. After all, Sybil had helped him ring in the New Year with quite a bang indeed!

Edith sighed and shook her head. "You two have been married for three years now; hasn't the honeymoon stage begun to fade?"

Tom and Sybil looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Edith only rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, I told them all you had gone upstairs to wish Happy New Year to my sweet little niece," Edith explained.

"Oh thank you, Edith," Sybil sighed with relief. The last thing she wanted was her father to look at the both of them with a dark scowl while he made his toast.

"Yes, you can thank me by taking my place whenever Alfred wants a dance at the Servant's Ball."

Sybil stared at her sister with horrified eyes. She then looked at Tom for sympathy. "My poor feet," she groaned.

Tom put his arm around his wife and led her back towards the dining room where the rest of the family waited. "At least yours are big enough to do battle—ow!" he rubbed his backside.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!