Ok guys. Sorry for the delay. I know I promised it to you a week ago but my beta reader was busy so... I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm warning for smut to come but I wanted to tease a little bit before :) Anyway, it's probably a little bit out of character somehow but like someone said it : rock the AU !

TRAPPED

They were driving in silence for long minutes now and Sybil couldn't stand it anymore. Things weren't supposed to be happening this way. Today was the day she was returning home after a two months long training as a nurse and she should be happy and chatting animatedly with her best friend. She had so much to share with him!

She had to concede that she wasn't even sure at first that he would be the one coming to pick her up. After his proposal and the way she handled her response, she wasn't even sure she had the right to be mad at his behaviour. She should just be happy that he did what she asked and had stayed at Downton. But she hadn't expected the cold shoulder treatment he was now giving her. If these two months had taught her a lot of things, the most important was that she had missed his smile, his conversation…that she had missed all of him.

But the truth was that she had been quite surprised by his words two months ago and that she hadn't been prepared to answer it properly. Even if she already knew deep inside that she was in love with him, things were too complicated to be simply answered by a yes or a no. She knew she had hurt him with her words as equally as he had surprised her. So yes, she was eager to be back at Downton but also nervous and if his behaviour was some evidence, she was right to be.

Oh, he hadn't been harsh or disrespectful. But he had just been formal, avoiding her eyes and speaking only the strict necessary. And right now, as they were driving back to Downton, she could only wish to be back two months earlier and have the possibility to handle things differently.

As Branson was engaging the car in one of the estate road, the rain began to fall hard and Sybil thought the weather was matching her mood. She was about to try again to start a conversation with her friend when the car jerked suddenly and she let out a cry of surprise as Branson was cursing under his breath.

"What was that?" She asked Branson.

"I think we've got a tire flat. I'm sorry Milady", he answered while parking the car on the side of the road. "I need to change the wheel. It's gonna take some time."

"You can't possibly think of getting out under this rain. You'll catch a cold."

"That's my job, Milady. And there's no other choice if you want to go back home."

Without paying any attention at Sybil rolling her eyes about the number of "Milady" he served her since York, he jumped out of the car and ran towards the back to retrieve the spare wheel. He came back a few seconds later, soaked and his hands empty.

"Sorry, Milady. It seems like we're stuck in there. There's no spare wheel. It's my entire fault. I forgot to get a new one after my last driving lesson with Lady Edith, Milady. I'm afraid we'll have to wait for help or the end of this downpour so we can walk to Rippon, Milady."

"Oh, Branson! Stop it with your "Milady" already. It's driving me crazy!"

"Sorry, Milady but I don't see how I can call you otherwise, Milady."

Sybil contained a frustrated cry and she would have happily slapped him if she knew she wouldn't have to stay confined in the car with him. She sighed heavily and decided that if he wanted to be miserable and make her pay for her answer to his proposal, it was fine with her. She could be very well quite a sulky herself.

Silence fell in the car and she was doing her best to divert her eyes from him. He had taken off his coat and cap to try to feel dryer and was now trying to wring his shirt that was sticking to his skin, not leaving much to Sybil's imagination.

She looked away and that's when she realized that she knew the place.

"Aren't we on the Rippon road, the one at the back of the estate?"

"Yes, we are."

"Great, I know where we are. A friend of my father has a cabin he's using when hunting. It should be somewhere along this trail, not so far away. We should go and wait over there. At least, we could start a fire."

Branson looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"It wouldn't be very safe to walk this trail with that rain."

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're afraid by a few drops and mud. I have my school bag here so I can leave a note. And when they'll be worried that we haven't arrived yet, they'll send someone, find the car and the note, then us."

Without waiting for an answer as Branson was trying to find a failure in her plan, she took a piece of paper from her notebook and a pencil and she wrote a short note she placed on the back seat. She then turned towards Branson who seemed miles away and asked:

"So? Are you coming with me or are you waiting here all by yourself?"

"You're really serious?"

"Of course I am!"

"You'll ruin your clothes."

Sybil rolled her eyes at this.

"You know me, I couldn't care less."

And without any another word, Sybil jumped from the car and started to run on the muddy trail, one hand on her hat to prevent it from falling. Stunned, Branson shook his head and ran after her after a while, not wanting to be left behind if she fell or hurt herself.

After what seemed like an eternity to them but just a few minutes in reality, they reached a wood cabin. Sybil smiled at him, too proud of her idea then bent over to search under a rock near the door. She got up, showing him proudly a key.

"Tada!"

Branson couldn't contain a smile in front of her attitude and her appearance. She was dripping but she didn't seem to mind where Mary would have probably cried to the end of the world. But his smile soon left his face as he realized that he would be confined in this small place alone with her for an indefinite amount of time. He gulped because after the York's debacle two months ago, he wasn't sure he could face her. He tried his best until now to avoid the topic with her by being more formal but he knew her and her stubbornness so he wouldn't be surprised if she forced him to talk about it now they were stuck in there.

They entered the cabin and Branson was surprised at how simple but also cosy it was. There was a table with a few chairs in a corner, a sofa and an armchair in front of the fireplace. At the back of the room, not so far from the fireplace, there also was a small bed, probably used by the owner when it was too late to go back home after a day of hunting.

"Dry at last!" exclaimed Sybil, taking off her hat.

Branson just looked at his white shirt, suddenly regretting to have left his coat in the car. The tissue was stinking to his skin despite his undershirt and it was very uncomfortable. But he thought otherwise than to contradict her and just stayed near the open door, trying to find out what to do with himself.

"Could you please close the door?" Asked Sybil. "I'll try to start a fire."

As if it was waking him up from his numb state, he shook his head and did what he was asked before turning towards the fireplace where Sybil was kneeling in order to light the fire. He looked at her silhouette and couldn't contain a smile seeing her like this, not perturbed at all by the situation. He went to her.

"Let me do it", he said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder.

He was expecting some objections but Sybil only looked up to him and gave him a grateful smile.

"Thank you. I'm not used to do it."

"Not a problem…Milady", he added, feeling the need to put some distance between them.

He worked in silence as Sybil was inspecting the place, trying to see if she could find something useful.

"Once it gets warmer, we can strip down to dry our clothes."

Hearing her words, Branson almost suffocate. Did he hear her correctly?

"Wh…what?" He stammered, turning to her.

"Oh, don't be so prude. Keeping these wet clothes on us will get us sick. I'm a nurse now, believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

"But, we can't..I can't."

"Don't be silly, Branson. You know, I saw and learnt a lot of things during my training and I don't think that seeing you in your underwear would kill me. But feel free to do as you want. I hope you don't mind me doing it thought."

Branson would rather not to answer and returned his concentration back on lighting the fire. After a few tries, the wood crackled and soon, there was a light glow in the room as well as a little bit of warmth. He got up and began to pace the room as Sybil went to the fire, trying to warm up.