Ok, so this is a Patrienne story from my strange Patrienne AU where Dr. Turner and Sister Bernadette are nothing more than friends. Partly writing this because someone said they missed Patrienne, partly writing because I was told never to write them again and I am asserting my right to write whatever I like. I hope you like it. The song they're listening to is "In the Still of the Nite" by The Five Satins, a very good song which I have been listening to all day.
They were both in the medical room of Nonnatus House, when the sound of a gramophone reached their ears. He stood, leaning in the doorway smoking a cigarette as she operated the hot water bath, sterilising the equipment for him to take away. They had been waiting in companionable silence for the task to be done. She turned her head in his direction, smiling a little apologetically.
"We've become rather used to music at this time of the evening," she explained, "They used to only play it in their rooms, but Sister Monica Joan said she enjoyed it and wanted to join in so Nurse Franklin has been kind enough to keep her gramophone in the sitting room."
"I don't mind," he replied, "It's rather nice. It's The Five Satins, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," she confirmed, and threw him another ironic smile a moment later, "My knowledge of contemporary music has widened rather rapidly."
He smiled in return before extinguishing his cigarette and putting it in the bin.
"I'm sorry to bother you like this, Sister," he told her, not for the first time since he'd arrived.
"No matter," she told him, quite genuinely "You need your equipment to be in a fit state to work; as far as I can see you have no option but to bring it to us in your present situation. I quite understand."
He ran his hand through his hair in agitation, but gave her a gracious smile nonetheless.
"Truth be to told, Doctor," she continued quietly, her eyes turning back to her task, "I'm rather grateful for the chance to escape the hullabaloo. The girls get rather spirited at this time of year, and when there's music on; and she hasn't said anything yet, but I think it rather agitates Sister Evangelina."
He gave a short laugh.
"I don't think you'll have to wait very long before she does say," he remarked, "Knowing Sister Evangelina."
"Quite," she agreed, with a slightly rueful laugh of her own, "That's why I'm pleased to be hidden away in here."
Increasingly, there was something rather hollow in his laugh this time. She glanced at him over her shoulder and saw that he was watching the floor. The smile had as good as vanished from his face.
"Doctor?" she asked him, "Are you quite alright?"
His gaze returned to her quickly, flitting upwards from the floor.
"Of course, Sister," he told her.
His voice was unconvincing. She looked at him steadily, her hands still occupied with sterilizing the equipment, waiting for him to tell her what was wrong. He gave a sigh, acknowledging his defeat.
"It's just that I rather envy you your hullabaloo," he told her, "Our house is rather on the quite side this year."
"Oh yes, of course," she murmured softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't think."
"You weren't to know," he reassured her gently.
"Yes, but even so," she started to insist, "I should have-..."
She should have spoken more carefully. Of course the Turner household would be on the quiet side this year. It had not been a year since Sarah Turner had passed away. This was one of the rare occasions when Sister Julienne could have happily kicked herself.
"I'm sorry," she told him, a little bluntly, still feeling foolish.
"It's alright, Sister," he told her, matching her curtness with his gentleness.
She let out a long sigh, moving on to the test tubes.
"How is Timothy getting along?" she asked him. Now that they had spoken of it, the issue was now unavoidable.
"He's doing as well as I would have hoped," he replied, "But he's very quiet. He was quiet anyway, even before-... But now his teacher says he's withdrawn at school and he doesn't get excited about Cubs any more like he used to."
"He's had a lot to bear," she remarked sadly, "But is he getting better as opposed to worse?" she asked, hoping to find a positive note amongst this grim picture.
"I'm not even sure," he told her honestly, and her heart sank just a touch before he continued, "It just seems that he's reached some sort of a deadlock."
There was silence for a moment, except for the music coming from the sitting room.
"I might as well say," she told him after a second's thought, "As seen as I seem determined to put my foot in it this evening; might that not be just as true of you as it is of him?" she asked.
He did look very surprised for a moment at her words, but a second later his expression changed to a defeated, worn-out smile that did not reach his eyes.
"I didn't say that it wasn't," he reminded her.
She could not argue with that.
The music mingled in their silence for a moment as their eyes met. She could not quite explain the depth of the pity she felt for this man in those moments. Terribly sad things happened to perfectly good people every single day in Poplar, she of all people was well appraised of this fact. But none quite affected her like this did; his sadness, his seeming complete defeat. She had never seen him so openly wounded before in all the months since his wife's death, and wondered what it was that made him show it to her now. Perhaps it was the music. Perhaps they were both tired.
"You know we are all here for you, Doctor?" she asked him gently, "Whenever you need us."
His smile seemed rather more genuine then.
"Thank you, Sister," he replied, "I do."
She turned back to the equipment, finished and clean now, and put it all into a drawstring bag, ready for him to take away.
"I'm sorry for taking up your time," he told her again.
"Haven't I told you, you aren't taking up my time," she insisted, putting the bag down on the bench beside her, and turning to face him, looking at him rather thoroughly.
Again, he seemed rather taken aback by her manner- her boldness, maybe- and that was what gave her the courage to say:
"Do you like The Five Satins, Doctor?"
"What?- Yes, I suppose so."
"Then will you dance with me?"
That really had him taken aback, so much so that he could not even blurt out in surprise. The look on his face was actually rather priceless, and she laughed properly for the first time that evening. Her mirth made him smile too, and she saw his shoulders, which had been slightly tensed, relax a little.
"You said you envied me some hullabaloo. Well, with my dancing I can guarantee you some of that at the very least."
He laughed of his own accord this time, the sound resonating comfortingly around the room. She stepped towards him a little.
"Don't worry, Doctor, it is permitted," she told him, smiling.
He smiled too at that.
"Is it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, yes," she told him breezily, trying to ignore the way her heart was suddenly beating rapidly.
She stretched her hand out to him. He took it.
It was awkward and clumsy at first, but it did not bother either of them much. They persevered, and moments later it seemed neither of them noticed if their feet fumbled a little or if they turned a little too enthusiastically. His eyes met hers and they smiled at each other. The music seemed loud enough to be in the room with them, and the whole thing was comforting. He held her with courteous gentleness, but still their closeness was... comforting. And disconcerting. She put the thought out of her mind; she was only happy that she had made him happy, or at least cheered him up, by this rather extraordinary request. He was humming along to the song. It was the same song, playing over and over again.
"Thank you, Sister," he murmured to her, moments later.
They were dancing more slowly now. She did not realise that she had rested her head on his shoulder until she lifted it back up, to find him looking at her closely. The look in his eyes was dark, intensely so.
She wanted to reply that it was quite alright, but her voice would not work. She wondered what was wrong. Wondered what the strange fraught feeling rising in her chest was.
"Are you alright?" he asked her.
"I-..."
Still she could not speak. But she thought her eyes might be giving away more than her voice ever could, simply because her brain did not know the words for this. After what seemed like an eternity of looking at each other- they were barely dancing any more- his face became closer to hers- she could not tell who it was who was moving- and their lips met. He planted a gentle kiss on her lips; chaste in action but not in feeling. And she responded.
A second later- maybe a little longer, but as soon as she realised what was happening, at any rate- she broke away in astonishment. His arms released her straight away. They stood at a distance, looking at each other in complete shock. She raised a hand to her mouth, unable to believe what had just happened.
"I think I ought to go," he told her.
"You don't have to," she told him, "I will retire to my cell and you may stay with-..."
"I know I don't have to go," he cut across her, "But really, I think I ought to."
She nodded.
"Very well. If you wish."
He looked at her very seriously, ready to go.
"I'm so sorry, Sister," he told her.
"Don't apologise," she told him, "It's not your- Your instruments! You've forgotten them!"
In his haste he had been about to go without taking his equipment with him. He coloured a little.
"Oh, yes. Thank you, Sister."
He picked them up hurriedly from where they stood on the bench, near to her. Their eyes met again and parted quickly.
"I'll go," he told her swiftly.
She did not protest again.
Please review if you have the time.
