Reluctantly, he handed over the key. He was sat at his desk with his irate wife standing over him.
'Calm down Patrick. I'm only driving it to Nonnatus.' She rolled her eyes in exasperation. It had taken her nearly 10 minutes of persistent pestering before he had conceeded and handed over the car keys.
'But Shelagh…'
'You taught me to drive didn't you?'
'Against my better judgement.' He sighed
'Do you not trust your teaching? Do you not trust my driving? If you want I could always tell Sister Evangelina that you don't think it's right for me, as a woman, to be driving alone without a big strong man there next to me just in case my delicate little feet slip off the peddles, or, heaven forbid, my dainty hands miss the gear stick.' She challenged, hands on hips.
'My love it's not that. I trust you. I love how petite your hands and feet are, I trust you and them not to go wrong.'
'What is it then?'
'You're looking exceptionally beautiful today and I don't want you out of my sight.' He admitted, finally giving in and grinning slightly.
'As touching as that is I promised Sister Julienne I'd take Angela over to visit them and it's raining outside. You're too busy to drive us there and I don't want her coming down with a cold. You can stare at my arse-yes I know that was what you've been admiring all day-you can stare at my arse to your hearts content once we get home.' She grinned, it had been a great delight to discover his somewhat exuberant adoration of her posterior and she had worn the tight pencil skirt she currently sported with the single ambition of torturing him throughout his work day. Even more pleasing than his appreciation for her form had been her discovery of her wicked side. Sister Bernadette would have been aghast at the ways Shelagh liked to tease her husband- an extra tight skirt one day, a low cut blouse another, mildly explicit love notes in his desk on occasion. Both Turners were consummate professionals and both had agreed early on in their engagement that nothing more than hugs and kisses (though the nature of the kisses had grown far more intense since the initial agreement) must be traded at work. However rules were made to be broken and the memory of the one time they had cracked sprang to mind. It had been weeks before Shelagh could look at Patrick's desk or the supply cupboard without blushing. That had been after hours of course. The thought of one of the nurses bursting in on them in the throes of passion, whilst exciting her slightly, was deemed mortifying enough to never happen.
'Can I at least get a parting view of such a fine arse? As a Doctor it is my job to make sure your anatomy is in one piece.' He reached around her to grab her form in his hands and squeezed gently. She let out a quiet squeak of surprise. 'Good news Mrs Turner, your gluteus maximus is in fine shape.'
'You're a ridiculous man but I love you Patrick Turner.' She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sank into his lap. She leant forward and captured his lips in a sweet kiss.
'I love you too Mrs Turner, I love your tiny hands and your adorably small feet and your golden hair and your elegant neck and your perfect breasts and your beautiful nose and your eyes that I could drown in, but most importantly I love your bottom.'
'It loves you too beautiful man. I should go, I left Angela with Trixie, if we're not careful she'll look like a porcelain doll again. Poor Angel Girl.'
'Alas I guess I can do without your bottom if it saves our Angel from that terrible fate. Don't worry about picking me up-I'll make my own way home tonight
'Don't worry. I'll bring the car back here and I'll tidy up in here whilst I wait for you to finish. That should take long enough for you to finish the day.' She laughed hopping off his lap. 'Don't forget to eat the lunch I made you.' With that she sashayed out, making sure to wiggle her hips that extra bit more than normal. If she couldn't be there to distract him for the next few hours she may as well leave him distracted to high heaven.
