InsaneJournal

Who: Tom Branson & Mary Crawley
When: A few weeks ago
Where: Coffee Shop
What: Trying to get to know one another better
Rating/Warning: PG, Just for some minor angst
Status: Complete



Mary had arrived at the coffee shop well ahead of the proposed meeting time. In fact, her coffee was already half-finished and lukewarm. Tom Branson had been the one to extend the invitation, but she felt as though she had something to protect: perhaps it was Sybil, or simply her comfortable way of life; she wanted to be as settled as possible and well-prepared. Tom made her nervous. Very few people had the ability to accomplish that.

And Mary made Tom nervous. It seemed inappropriate maybe to judge her based solely on the dreams, but even in their brief interactions on the net, Mary had her signature icy composure. Tom couldn’t blame her - she was just being a good big sister, wasn’t she? But he’d put on this meeting long enough.

Steeling himself, he stepped into the coffee shop and spotted her immediately. Once he’d ordered his coffee he took a seat across from her and put on a smile.

“And here we are, meeting at last.”

In her dreams, Tom was the family’s chauffeur, or at least one of them. The primary one, she supposed; she had never seen any others, but she also hadn’t gone looking for any. There was a very thick line between their circles, or better yet, an entire floor, separating the upstairs from downstairs.

“In this world, anyway,” she replied. Tom looked the same, at any rate: too handsome, and confidant, for his own good. Or Sybil’s.

As far as the dreams went, that Tom was still getting used to being a member of the family. That same sense of awkwardness and feeling out of place appeared to be following him to his meeting, but he laughed anyway, trying to be good natured about it.

“In this world. Cheers to that.” Tom lifted his coffee in a mock toast and took a sip.

Mary hummed rather than laughed or even smiled. She lifted her drink and took a sip as well, but she certainly didn’t look like she was toasting. Already, she knew Sybil would be cross with her for being so cold--although the back of her neck felt hot, like Sybil was staring her down from some unseen location. Of course, it was all in Mary’s mind, as if her conscious was already guilty.

“Well,” she began, taking a breath. “What was it you wanted to chat about?”

Straight to the point. Tom couldn’t be surprised by that, but he raised his eyebrows nonetheless.

“I don’t know. Anything? I was hoping to get to know you beyond you being Sybil’s sister and what I know of Lady Mary Crawley.”

“And what do you know of Lady Mary?” she asked, almost just as direct, though he may of noticed a flicker in her gaze. She didn’t like people attempting to figure her out, not when she barely could.

“Not a whole lot,” he admitted. “Even where I am now in the dreams, she still keeps her cards close to her chest. Not that there’s much wrong with that,” Tom added.

“What I know about you… is that you’re employed as our chauffeur, and you escort my sister to political events that she then attempts to downplay.” She paused long enough to take a drink, followed by a sigh. “Except for the fact that she felt the need to keep them secret in the first place.”

“It was hard to be a women interested in politics at that time, let alone one with a title.” But that gave Tom an idea where Mary stood as far as the dreams went. “But from what I can see, you’re all a bit headstrong.”

“And you like headstrong women?” Because in the world where they came from, that was a strange quality in a man. Mary knew how to play the game, but Sybil refused, and from what she could gather, Tom did, as well.

“I’m Irish, all I’ve ever known is headstrong women.” Tom laughed. He was sure Mary wouldn’t, but at least he was trying, right? “There’s nothing wrong with a woman who knows what she wants from the world and isn’t afraid to go after it.”

Mary actually bit her tongue to make sure she didn’t laugh. Her throat tightened and she coughed to clear it. “Well… perhaps my greatest concern here is that my sister is far too young to know what it is she wants, will want next year, or even tomorrow. I know I didn’t, when I was her age.”

“I don’t blame you. You’ve every right to be concerned, she’s your sister, you want what’s best for her.” Tom nodded, and took a sip of his drink. “But so do I. And if that happens to not be me, so be it. I’m not going to try and sway her feelings, you know.”

“You might not,” Mary replied. She took a moment to take a pronounced breath. “But what about this dream version of yourself? He seems… quite tenacious.”

“He’s stubborn, but he’s not a cad. If there hadn’t been anything there at all, he’d have let it lie, that much is certain.” Tom shrugged.

Mary breathed again. This time, it sounded more like a sigh. She looked aside. She didn’t feel uncomfortable as much as she felt like she was running out of rungs on her ladder. Tom kept managing to stay one step ahead when she was hoping to grab him by the ankles and pull him down with a swift yank. Why? Why did she dislike him so?

“I don’t doubt that Sybil is very fond of you,” she said, pursing her lips.

“Then don’t doubt that I’m fond of her, either,” he said, a bit gently. He maybe didn’t need Mary’s approval or blessing, but he felt like he wanted it, more for Sybil’s sake than his own. “Everything with the dreams and all, it’s hard to make sense of it. But it’s a mighty odd coincidence that we should all three of wise wind up here and starting sharing that world, so I’ve got to trust something good can come out of it.”

Again, Mary fell quiet. What she feared was something she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps that was because the class system she dreamed about didn’t truly exist here. Or maybe it had more to do with the fear of losing Sybil to someone else. “If you want to call it a coincidence,” she said. “It all feels very intentional to me.”

“I know it’s strange. Trust me, it’s weird for all of us, but we’ve all got each other in this. I’m not asking you to be my best friend, or even a friend at all, but I do have her best interests at heart.” Tom watched her, trying to gauge her thoughts, but she was a hard woman to read.

That because she let very few get close enough to learn the nuance in her expressions, even though it had nothing to do with physical closeness. There was always a wall between herself and the rest of the world. “Very well. I know I seem like a tiger waiting to pounce. I will, if necessary. Still, I truly hope it never will be.” She tried to smile.

“I’d expect nothing less from you,” Tom told her, looking amused. It was going better than he had expected. “So, we’re more or less all right, then?”

She nodded. Mary knew that was all Sybil’s doing. Her sister had worn her down, bringing up Tom again and again until she was acclimated to the idea of him like a pool of water. For now, she’d stay with the current.

That was good enough for Tom. He drank a bit more of his coffee, finishing it off, then nodded at her. “I suspect I’ll be going, then.” He didn’t know if he should shake her hand or something, so he just left it as he stood up. “It really was nice to meet you.”

Mary kept both hands wrapped around her nearly empty cup. She looked up at Tom, her forced smile still etched into her features. “I’m glad we finally met, too.”