From a prompt by ctmsundays

'I'm dying aren't I? Give it to me straight nurse.' Patrick groaned weakly turning to snuggle into his Nurses's hip. Shelagh rolled her eyes but ran her fingers through his hair, well aware of the calming effect it would have on him. He let out a hacking cough that made the bed shake.

'You've got the flu Patrick. Stop making a mountain out of a molehill else I'll get Aunt Lulu to come and look after you. I'm sure she'd relish the chance.' Shelagh threatened grinning widely. Aunt Lulu was…exuberant and a rather enthusiastic greeter. Between the three times she had visited her favourite niece she had managed to kiss every person close to Nonnatus House in any way in greeting. She had kissed Patrick several times. Shelagh found her aunt's crush on her husband hilarious. Said husband did not.

'Would you really do that to me? The woman's an animal! And she smells like one too!' He pulled a pathetic puppy dog look at her. Threatening him with Aunt Lulu was a low blow.

'Oh hush. Just because she occasionally gives off a whiff of wet dog it doesn't mean she wouldn't make an excellent nurse.' Her attempt at delivering this statement was foiled as Patrick gave an almighty sniff promptly followed by an attack of the coughs. Most women would have run screaming from such disgusting behaviour as her husband was presenting with but she had seen far worse. She didn't even mind when he had attempted to surreptitiously wipe his nose on her shirt. She had caught him but offered up the shirt anyway. He'd just finished a pack of tissues and the only one left was in another rom. Both were far too comfy to move.

'Why would I want any nurse other than one willing to wear nothing but my shirt as she tends to me?' He nuzzled into her, his fingers trailing up and down her bare leg, occasionally slipping underneath the tails of his shirt.

'I'd better be the only one who fills that criteria.'

'So far yes. And please don't let Aunt Lulu fill that role. Pair her off with Fred or something. Get her a hobby.'

'I'll see what I can do.' She giggled at the absurdity of the idea.

'Shelagh?' He manoeuvred to his head was now in her lap.

'Yes Patrick?'

'I think I am dying. My head feels like it's about to split open.' He whined.

'You've taken medication too recently for me to give you more sweetheart. You know that.'

'Maybe if I had a distraction? My lips are awfully dry you know? And yours are so inviting.' He grinned up at her.

'I'm not kissing you with dry lips Patrick. Here's some water.'

'Thank you. Now will you kiss me? A happy person recovers quicker.' He said trying to sound professional and failing abysmally.

'Is that so Doctor Turner?' She cocked an eyebrow at him.

'I read it in the Lancet.'

'Oh well if The Lancet says so…'

Reviews appreciated xx