Every Christmas with the Bransons is Special

Also, Sybil x Tom and Mary x Matthew ala "White Christmas" AU ;oP

Vaudeville song and dance man Matthew Crawley abandoned the stage to fulfill his duty to his country when war broke out. While in the Army, he meets Tom Branson, an aspiring entertainer in his unit, and the two become fast friends, performing little shows for their fellow soldiers to boost morale. When Tom saves Matthew’s life after an attack one day, the two become friends for life, and take the entertainment world by storm once the war is over, rising up in the ranks from simple song and dance men to big-time producers. They still perform whenever they can, and are always looking for new talent…but one day, ten years after the war, they get a letter from an old army friend of theirs, Patrick Crawley, asking them if they wouldn’t mind making a trip to see Patrick’s cousins in a show of their own.

The Crawley Sisters–singers Mary and Sybil, accompanied by Edith on piano–have been on a successful tour, performing at nightclubs and hotels up and down the East Coast. But on the day that Branson and Crawley (as their dynamic duo has come to be known) comes to see The Crawley Sisters and their act, the girls run into a spot of trouble with the manager of the hotel, who claims they have vandalized the room and refuses to pay them what he owes for booking the act. Desperate, the sisters turn to Branson and Crawley for help, and although Matthew is reluctant at first, Tom is charmed by the girls’ talent (and by the youngest sister, Sybil) and they provide a distraction so the girls can sneak out of the hotel and onto their train that will take them to their next booking.

As luck would have it, the two men run into the sisters again on the train, and are persuaded to join them in (sadly not so snowy) Vermont. There, Matthew and Mary begin to grow closer, and Sybil and Tom hatch a plan to get them together (and to get Mary to stop nagging her sister) and inadvertently grow closer to each other in the process. Meanwhile, Edith is smitten with the owner of the hotel, Anthony Strallan, former commanding officer from Branson and Crawley’s army days! Will everyone end up with the right person? Or will misunderstandings and hi-jinks abound? Will they be able to get their new show off the ground? And when is it ever going to snow?

Crawley sisters "sweaters"

12 Days of Christmas Day 4!

Christmas morning, 1925

“This one’s from Tom and I,” Sybil said brightly as she handed each of her sisters a carefully wrapped package. The children were already happily playing with their new gifts, and now it was time for the adults to open their Christmas presents. Sybil took hold of her husband’s hand and squeezed it as Mary and Edith began to carefully tear into their gifts. She had been nervous about giving her sisters their presents for weeks now–money was still tight especially with three children and another on the way, and the family had had to scrape and save in order to come to Downton for Christmas this year (and even then, the difference had had to be paid by Matthew, who was happy to do it, but Sybil and Tom hated asking)–and now here it was, the moment of truth that would tell if the work that Sybil had put into her sister’s gifts was worth it.

Sybil and Tom had been making each other gifts since their first Christmas as husband and wife–small framed portraits, favorite dinners, and the like. Their tradition for Christmas was generally one handmade gift and one purchased gift (something small usually unless they decided to splurge) for each other and one small gift (usually chocolate or sweets) and one larger gift for each of the children. But this was the first time that Sybil had undertaken such a huge project in making her gifts, and she found herself waiting with baited breath as Mary tore the last of the paper off the box and eagerly opened it up. Edith took her time, folding the wrapping carefully and setting it aside.

“Oh…how nice!” Mary said with what Sybil hoped was not forced enthusiasm. “A sweater. Oh, it feels very warm.”

“I’ve got the same,” Edith said, holding her own sweater–a cardigan-style with buttons, made with pale blue yarn, slightly nubby in some spots and perhaps, Sybil realized as she saw it in her sister’s hands, a bit too long in the sleeves–out in front of her to get a better look. Mary held hers, a dove gray color, carefully in her hands. Sybil supposed it was a good sign that Mary didn’t seem to hate the thing outright, but she wasn’t sure that she liked it, either. “Did you make these, Sybil?”

“Tom’s mother has been teaching me how to knit,” Sybil said brightly. “I started out small, just a few scarves for Tom and the children, and a few pairs of mittens–”

“Mine are lovely, Sybil, thank you,” Cora piped up from her spot by the Christmas tree, beaming at her youngest as she modeled the evergreen-colored mittens that Sybil had made her. She wasn’t sure if they would ever see the light of day again after this, but the fact that her mother wore them now was good enough for her.

“Anyway, Nora seemed to think I was ready to take on some bigger projects. and she helped me choose the yarn–it’s Irish wool, very good quality, and the patterns I used are hers…”

“A lot of the nurses at the hospital knit between shifts, or during what little free time they have,” Tom explained. “It keeps them busy but still alert and ready to get going again if a patient needs them. Sybil saw them at it and came home one day last summer determined to learn for herself.”

“Tom’s mother is a very patient teacher,” Sybil explained with a laugh. “I’m afraid for a while there it was rather like my cooking lessons during the war, but Nora says I’ve improved leaps and bounds since then.”

Edith and Mary exchanged a look, and suddenly all Sybil could see were the imperfections in her work–a dropped stitch near the neckline of Mary’s sweater, places where the yarn was pulled too snug on Edith’s, a knot in the fringe of the scarf that her father had just unwrapped. Part of her wanted to snatch them all back, but the more stubborn part of her held her head high. This was the life that she had chosen. They all knew that. And if they couldn’t accept everything that went with it–including handmade gifts that were not to their usual standards–then that was on them, not her.

But suddenly, Mary smiled, setting the sweater in her lap. “They’re wonderful, darling,” she said sincerely as Matthew unwrapped his with aplomb. “Absolutely wonderful. To think that you made them for us just makes them that much more special. Thank you, Sybil,” she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Sybil’s cheek. “Happy Christmas.”

The entire Crawley family ended up wearing their gifts at least once during the Branson’s visit, and if Edith’s sleeves were just a little too long, or Mary’s collar a bit itchy, or Matthew’s too snug or Robert’s scarf kept being confused for a toy by Tiaa the puppy…well, no one mentioned it to Sybil.