I know there's loads of these, but it was getting on 2am and I couldn't get the ideas out of my brain, so this happened. A warning: I switch tenses like there's no tomorrow, but going back to try and correct them made everything feel a bit disjointed, though if it's really bothering anyone I can try and smooth things out.

They'd all been there for five days before Delia turned up.

Patsy had gotten fairly well acquainted with her flatmates by then. She'd immediately hit it off with Trixie, thanks to an early discovery of their shared love for Billy Joel and a nice lipstick, and Barbara was a sweet girl who, although Patsy felt wouldn't be as much fun as Trixie on a night out, had an endearing quality about her and a gift for gentle conversation. Upon hearing that Patsy was a literature student she'd immediately burst in to a flow about the works of Virginia Woolf, and despite Patsy being as little disconcerted by the sudden familiarity, it was a nice way to get to know her without worrying about awkward pauses.

She'd been more than happy with the arrangement - they were both easy for Patsy to get along with, and as for the shared living space, well, seven years of boarding school had thoroughly adjusted her to that. She didn't mind when Barbara left forgotten mugs of tea in the living room, or when Trixie's music was just a fraction too loud, though whether that be her desire for their friendship or the short space of time she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she had avoided the horror stories she'd heard about disagreeable flatmates. And that was when Delia turned up.

It wasn't that Patsy disliked her.

Oh no. It definitely wasn't that.

She'd been sitting in the kitchen with Trixie and Barbara, looking over the notes from her earlier lecture, when they'd heard the doorbell to the flat ring. Barbara had gone to answer, her exclamation of surprise a few seconds later prompting the other two to frown at each other, but by the time they'd started to move toward the hallway, Barbara returned, followed by another girl neither of them recognised.

Patsy met the eyes of this stranger, and felt something in her stomach flip.

She was gorgeous.

"This is Delia. She's…well, she's going to be living with us."

Trixie's brow furrowed for a brief second, before she fixed a smile on her face. "Well, this is most unexpected. We'd all resigned ourselves to being a recreation of Destiny's Child."

Delia grins at this, revealing dimples in her cheeks. Patsy's beginning to feel hot under the collar.

"I'm sure we can find a quartet to change to," Trixie continues, oblivious to Patsy's fluster and looking around the room for inspiration. "How about the March sisters?" she suggested. Delia grinned back at her, eyes flicking to the book sitting next to Patsy's lecture schedule. "As long as I get to be Jo, I'm on board."

Great. Welsh, dimples, and at least a basic knowledge of classic literature. Patsy knows she's gone.

Ever the socialite, Trixie stands up, extending a hand to Delia. "Beatrix Franklin, better known as Trixie, and this is Patsy."

The sound of her name forces Patsy to stop staring, snapping back in to reality as her manners kick in. She rises, locking eyes with Delia as she holds out her own hand. "It's a pleasure," she tells her, feeling her stomach flip again as Delia's hand grips hers. "Likewise," Delia responds, shaking her hand firmly. It feels as if their handshake lasts longer than strictly necessary, and eventually Patsy forces herself to withdraw, choosing instead to move to the kitchen area before Delia can spot how red her cheeks are going. Now seems an appropriate time to put the kettle on.

"So, Delia, what are you studying?"

Patsy vaguely registers the conversation going on behind her as she busies herself with tea-making. She learns that Delia is studying physiology, that she'd originally planned to go in to medicine but had always been far better at biology than she was at chemistry, leaving her a grade short of med school. Delia doesn't sound particularly disappointed, discussing with Barbara the unfairness of Rosalind Franklin's lack of Nobel Prize and just how great her contributions to biology were. Patsy knows she ought to go back and play her part in the discussion, but she needs a few minutes to get a grip on her feelings, and besides, the conversation about their respective courses seems to be flowing nicely without her. She's well acquainted with the initial stages of a crush, trying to think of stories she'd heard about how awkward it was when relationships between flatmates didn't work out in order to distract herself. She'd known the girl for all of thirty seconds, for God's sake. No way was she going to let herself be so thrown off.

Depositing a packet of biscuits on to her plate, she re-joins the group, perching on the sofa arm next to Barbara. Delia meets her eyes as soon as she settles, giving her a warm smile. Patsy returns it, but averts her eyes soon after, focussing heavily on the tea in front of her.

"Hang on, Delia, are you sure you're with us?"

They all look over at Barbara in surprise, the girl in question frowning and looking out in to the hallway.

"That's what the paperwork says, why? Is something wrong?"

"It's just, well, there's four of us, and three bedrooms."

Delia looks around in confusion. "This is the fourth floor, yeah?"

Trixie puts her tea down and stands up, walking around the table to look at the paper Delia has in front of her. Scanning it, she chews her lip thoughtfully. "It says you're with us, though I'm not quite sure how. I've never heard of such a mix up."

Patsy can't help the mild relief that washes over her. It's unfortunate, yes, but it'll be a whole lot easier to focus if she isn't thinking about the way Delia smiles. Her eyes flick up to see worry etched on to Delia's features, and guilt immediately washes over her. It isn't Delia's fault that she's finding it hard to keep her composure.

"There's a sofa in my room," she blurts out.

Three pairs of eyes immediately look at her. Patsy shifts uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed. "We can sort the situation out in the morning, but it's getting late, and I certainly wouldn't want to lug all those suitcases around campus in the dark. You're more than welcome to kip on that, for tonight at least."

Trixie breaks in to a grin, looking from Patsy to Delia. "Well, that's sorted then. I'm glad we won't be losing you quite so soon, I'm determined to change your mind on the merits of modern art."

Delia flashes a smile her way before looking back over at Patsy. Her smile widens instantly, turning in to an almost-smirk as Patsy's cheeks begin to redden yet again, continuing to hold her gaze even as she reaches for another biscuit.

This was either going to go very well, or very, very badly.