A/N: It's been a while since I have been inspired to write anything at all, and as such, this isn't as extensive or heavy as a lot of what I write. I can't claim to know everything about Patsy Mount's character; I've worked with the little information we have about her as best I can (and some of that information I may not have got completely correct – please do correct me if you notice anything amiss!) and embellished it a lot with a lot of headcanon stuff. I hope to return to writing fully very soon. Thank you for reading – this is my first CTM story and I am a little anxious about entering a new fandom!

p.

"Poor lamb," Sister Mary Angela whispered softly, tucking the covers around the shivering eleven year old, twitching even in her sleep, "I'm quite sure she'll never seen a normal Christmas again,"

From the doorway, her superior nodded solemnly, "we'll pray for her. It's all we can do."

"I can't believe her father would rather she be here than with him, after all they've both lost..."

Sister Agnes touched her ward's arm gently, "it is not our place to pry, just to care as much as we can for the girl, and for her father, if he lets us."

one.

December 24th and all the other girls at St. Bernard's were home for Christmas. Snow had been falling steadily since early the day before, creating a thick sheet of white over the now unrecognisable gardens of the boarding school, and making it impossible to look out of the steamed up windows. Not that there was much point in looking; no one would be coming or going for at least another week. Everybody else was busy with festivities of their own. Festivities which thriteen year old Patience was no longer fortunate enough to be a part of.

It was pleasant enough, she supposed, having the whole of the housing unit to herself. Or, it had been, for the past two or three days. She had thought about how thrilling a game of hide and seek might be in the long, dark halls, and the common room with all its furnishings and hidden corners. Of course, then she had realised that there would be nobody to do the seeking, and that idea had fizzled out. Now, on Christmas Eve, at seven pm, she was alone in her room – very alone, feeling quite alone in all the world, in fact – and had been for several days prior, besides leaving to have the odd meal down in the dining hall with the handful of staff members who had stayed on for the Christmas period. Those meals, she dreaded most of all. She detested being the subject of people's sympathies, and even if nobody said anything, she could always tell that she was.

It was understandable that people might feel sorry for her. After all, being alone for Christmas was the least of her worries.

"I thought your father might send something, a package... a card, perhaps," Sister Mary Agnes said, sadly, seated opposite Patience for the third evening meal in a row, "but, if he has, I dare say it's got lost in the post."

Sister Mary Agnes was one of the kinder nuns, and although her eyes were always soft, they were especially so now. As much as Patience loathed to be patronised or babied, she would sooner spend her meal times with her than Sister Mildred or Sister Berthe, both of whom were unpleasant and stern at the best of times, and more likely to give her a rap on the knuckles with their canes, than a solemn conversation.

"I shan't imagine he's sent anything at all; it's not in his character to, and he didn't last year." Patience said, shifting her spoon through the lumpy gravy surrounding her remaining dumpling. It came out sharper than she had intended, but then, didn't everything?

The sister looked saddened by her outburst, if not a little flustered, "I just think it's a shame, is all... to have not even visited you in over a year, and now, on Christmas-"

"I'm used to it," she said, plainly, discarding what was left of her meal.

two.

"Are you very sure you wouldn't rather come with us, Pats? My mother always cooks far too much, anyway, so you wouldn't be shorting us on anything. It makes my heart ache thinking of you here, all by yourself."

The pleading expression in Caroline's dark eyes made Patsy's own heart ache, and that, she thought sadly, was the main problem. Still, she forced a smile and shook her head, shooing her roommate out of the door and towards her awaiting taxi cab.

"I'll be just fine. I've a wedge of mathematics to work on as thick as a bible, and a pile of chores on top of that..."

Caroline gazed at her from beneath heavy lashes, "oh, don't say that. I can't bear it! To think of you working hard on your sodding algebra as we tuck into the goose! It's preposterous!"

"Well, then, that's simple - don't think of me at all!" Patsy said, her face aching from smiling too hard.

She could tell that the facade she was putting up wasn't convincing her friend, but the cab driver's horn served as a welcome hurry-along, and Caroline glanced out once more, before grabbing her cases and beginning to head out. She paused, turning to Patsy and pulling her into a hug so tight it practically winded her.

"I'll see you in six days, Caroline; you needn't act as though we are to be separated forever."

"I know, but oh, I will miss you!"

The smile that rose on the redhead's lips was genuine, if not a little sad, "I'll miss you too... if you ever leave!"

With that, Caroline flashed her a bright smile, pressed her lips to her friend's cheek, gently, and just for the shortest of moments, before disappearing out into the snow.

Once she was sure the girl was gone, Patsy sat heavily on the bottom stair, and allowed her fingers to graze over the faint lipstick mark that had been left behind on her right cheek. Her heart hurt. If Patience Mount were the kind of girl to cry, she thought she might. But she'd long since forced herself out of any kind of behaviour like that, so she hardened her jaw, picked up her skirts, and headed back to her room, without so much as glancing outside at the disappearing cab.

three.

Patsy stared into the glass of wine she had been nursing for over half an hour, until her eyes began to lose focus. It was Christmas Eve, again. It seemed to sneak up upon her every year, each feeling more loathsome than the previous, though she knew she shouldn't complain. She'd had far worse than being alone at Christmas. Far worse was happening elsewhere, as she sat precariously on the end of someone else's settee, balancing an untouched glass of wine on her knee, listening to snow settle softly outside the window, and the low buzz of conversation she was not included in. She had regretted being talked into joining her room-mate's family for Christmas almost immediately. In fact, she had never approved of the decision to begin with, but Deborah had been insistent, and she would have done anything to get the girl to leave her alone, even if it did go against everything she believed in.

It wasn't so much that she didn't believe in Christmas – she knew that it existed, for otherwise people wouldn't celebrate it each year, but she also knew that the God it existed to celebrate was very much not one that she had any interest in. And aside from that, festivities were pointless. She had taken to sending a package to an orphanage each year, including practical items, and occasionally the odd toy if she'd come across one in a moment of weakness, and that was sufficient celebration for her.

Still, she had found herself at the Robertson house all the same, and now it was inescapable.

"Oh, you haven't so much as touched your wine! Would you prefer something else? I can fix you a brandy if it would be more to your taste. Debbie, fix the girl a brandy will you?"

Patsy shook her head quickly, detouring Mrs Robertson and her daughter by taking a long sip of wine, that burnt the back of her throat and made her eyes water, but seemed to satisfy her hosts.

"We wouldn't normally condone underage drinking, you understand, but, well, the birth of Jesus Christ is a special occasion, isn't it?" Deborah's father said, smiling broadly, causing his wife and daughter to giggle.

The smile Patsy forced wasn't convincing in the slightest, but she hadn't the energy to try and be any more festive.

four.

The door to the nurse housing unit swung open and two bodies stumbled into the low-lit hallway, attempting to muffle their giggles, whilst holding each other upright. Patsy reached blindly for the door handle, as her companion put a hand over her mouth, forcing her laughter back. The surprise contact made her skin tingle, and she glanced to the side of her, into a set of wicked dark eyes, swallowing any remaining laughter.

"Shhhhhh, you'll wake everybody up," she whispered, still attempting to open the door, but fumbling with the lock.

"Says you!" the voice bit back, her Welsh accent stronger than ever, the alcohol having brought it out, as well as slowing her words, "you're the noisy one. Here, let me open that."

Delia fiddled with the door and finally pushed it open, causing Patsy, who had been leaning against it, to fall straight through and onto a heap on the floor. Unsurprisingly, more laughter ensued. It was only when they were both safely sitting on the bed at the far-side that they stopped, clutching at their stomachs that ached from too much joviality.

"I think, just possibly, that we've had too much to drink," Delia said, her face serious for a moment, before she broke out in a new set of giggles.

"I dare say I might agree."

For a moment, the laughter died down and they sat there in silence, looking at one another in the soft light shed across the room by a single lamp at the side of Delia's bed. For the first time all evening, Patsy felt her heart sink, a familiar feeling of Christmas Eve sadness washing over her. She bit it back, having become well trained at hiding her feelings, but she feared it was too late; Delia was looking at her so intensely, and her own expression had deepened. Patsy knew how this went, had spent years having the same conversation over and over, but had hoped today would be different.

It was.

In a move so swift that Patsy could never have seen it coming, Delia moved closer, and from nowhere, her hand snaked quite carefully around Patsy's head, drawing her closer still. It wasn't until their lips met that Patsy could even be sure what was happening. The warmth that she felt course quickly through her body was like nothing she had ever experienced before, and when she pulled away, it was with reluctance and fear.

When she dared to look at Delia, the girl's eyes were wide, and there was tears gathering there, her cheeks pinker than Patsy had ever seen them, even out in the snow.

"I'm... I didn't... oh god," she whispered, suddenly standing from her own bed, and stumbling to move away.

Patsy didn't let her, taking her hand and pulling her back. Without a word, she conversed everything she needed to, staring intently into the brunette's eyes, until they moved again toward each

other, and met once more in a longer, deeper kiss.

Elsewhere, the bells church bells were ringing out, and the grandfather clock in the hallway chimed, letting them know that Christmas Day was finally upon them.

five.

Once the festivities had died down a little, and Patsy could afford some time to herself - leaving Sister Monica Joan and Sister Evangelina in a heated debate in the dining room, joined by Trixie, whose high-pitched whining could still be heard in the hallway if one strained their ears hard enough - she escaped to the telephone, having already requested to make a personal call. There had been a knowing look in Sister Julienne's eyes which had startled her, until she decided that there was no way the woman could know whom she was calling. Trixie made some remark about her finally having a man, and how could she have kept it from her, but her protests had faded when Patsy insisted she was calling her father, and nobody else.

Still, as she picked up the receiver and dialled the number, she couldn't help but glance about her anxiously, hoping nobody was around to intercept her call, or overhear her conversation.

"Hello?" she whispered, still looking about.

"Pats, I thought you'd never call!"

Her anxieties melted into a beaming smile as she heard the voice on the other end of the line, "oh, my darling, I am sorry. It was impossible to get a moment to myself."

"That's quite alright... how is it? How was the birth last night?'

"Arduous," Patsy sighed, rubbing her neck, "but both mother and baby are doing well. Chummy and I are going to visit the women again in the morning. Is it good to be home? I hope your journey wasn't too painful, in the snow...?"

"Oh yes, it's wonderful. Took a little longer than usual, but I got here in one piece, which is all that matters. My sister's baby didn't stop wailing for the entirety of Christmas dinner – she's a precious thing, but she sure has a set of lungs on her."

"I wish I could have come," Patsy said sadly. She had been incredibly pleased for Delia when she managed to gain the time off to go back to Wales for the festive period, trying so hard not to be selfish and feel sad for not getting to see her herself. As much as she had enjoyed Christmas at Nonnatus, it still felt as though something was missing.

Still, it was not as though they could have been together, anyway, even if she weren't working.

"You didn't have a good day yourself?"

"No, I..." a soft smile drifted across her features as she recalled the day's activities, and those of the day before, as well, though quite differently, "I had the best Christmas yet, actually... Well... besides last year, of course..."

Delia giggled on the other end of the line, and it made Patsy's skin tingle, "I love when you get that wicked glint in your eye and that smile that swallows up your whole face..."

"You can't even see me!" Patsy replied, indignantly, but she couldn't shake the grin.

"I know. I wish I could."

"Well, you will soon," she said, coming across a little more solemnly than she had intended, "and I look forward to it. I may even treat you to a fish supper!"

"Oh Pats, you do spoil me! I... well, you know."

"Yes," she sighed, sadly, "and I do too. Very much."