After 02x03, but significantly before 02x05.

After a particularly long day, Sister Bernadette happily walked her bike the final stretch up to the bike shed. As she approached the old house, she saw Dr. Turner leaning against the buttress, one foot resting on the bottom stair. Gingerly, he held a half-smoked cigarette. He was reclining comfortably, tiredly, his eyes closed. She could tell he was holding the smoke in his lungs, relishing the sensation, until finally releasing a dense white stream.

She tried to be as quiet as possible, not wishing to interrupt his moment of calm, but her bike was a little squeaky and, as she grew nearer, he must have heard her. He opened his eyes and brought his head forward, but otherwise remained relaxed.

"Good evening, Sister."

"Good evening, Doctor," she replied with a smile. "Loitering for any reason?" she teased as she walked past and returning her bike.

He cranked his head to watch her and chuckled a little. "I just had a few matters to discuss with Sister Julienne. Timothy won't be done with the cubs for another ten minutes, so I thought I'd just enjoy a nice evening with a good cigarette."

She walked up next to him and shifted her medical bag so that it hung in front of her held in both hands. "That sounds like a marvellous plan."

He smiled and took another long, languid drag, filling his lungs entirely, then exhaled up towards the darkening sky. She was reminded briefly of their night, not so long ago, standing outside the Carter household. Secretly, she hoped he'd offer her another little puff, but she darned not ask.

"Well," she said more in a sigh than as word. She gestured toward the stairs. "I don't want to intrude on your moment of silence."

"No, please," he said instantly. He paused for a moment to pick a stray bit of tobacco off his tongue. "Join me?" As he spoke, he wagged his eyebrows and offered her his cigarette.

While staring at the offered fag, she bit her lip, trying to suppress the desire to accept his offer once again. But the cheekiness of his smile – a playful acknowledgement of their little secret – made it impossible for her to say no. She took the cigarette with a quiet thank you and poorly contained smile.

As she took a little puff, he pulled out his cigarette case and plucked a fresh one. "You can finished that one," he said with a little wink, just before striking a match. She watched his face glow against the fading light and shyly took another puff. She kept her drags shallow and held the smoke for only a moment, as if the restraint – resisting the urge to take the same luxurious, greedy drags as Dr. Turner – was somehow penance for her little lapse.

For a while, they stood quietly besides each other, enjoying the stillness of the street, the gentle breeze, comfortably cool. After a while, Dr. Turner turned to her and asked, "You said you used to nick these from your father, but did you ever actually smoke? Beyond the occasional?"

She felt her cheeks blush a little. She shook her head a little – half-shrugged as if to say no. But then she revealed, "I had a boyfriend throughout high school. He started smoking when we turned fifteen and so he always had cigarettes on him – not usually the quality of Henley's, but he'd have something. I didn't smoke, per se, but I did take a few puffs on his… fairly often."

The way Dr. Turner laughed in response to her story reminded her of the doctor before his wife's illness: carefree, relaxed, laughter bursting forth from deep within his core.

She took a little puff as he'd calmed from his laughter, before saying, "So no, I never actually smoked." And that set him off on a second round of mirth-filled chuckles.

He took another long drag, his second cigarette already half-gone. Sister Bernadette put hers to her lips and this time closed her eyes and took a long-ish drag, granting herself one moment of selfish indulgence.

At that exact moment, the door banged opened. In surprise, Sister Bernadette's eyes snapped opened, she dropped her hand behind her back. Sister Evangelina emerged almost instantly, her head popping around in search of something. Sister Bernadette held her breath to conceal the hot smoke burning in her lungs.

"Ah! Sister Bernadette, I thought I'd heard your voice out here," Sister Evangelina called from the top of the stairs. Sister Bernadette could do nothing but look up at her, expectantly, while her eyes teared up. "There's supper on the table. Hurry along."

Sister Bernadette nodded, willing Sister Evangelina to just look away for a moment. As soon as the door swung closed, she coughed out the smoke she'd been holding. Dr. Turner tried to stifle his laughter, but once Sister Bernadette laughed herself, he let himself enjoy the moment.

"Well, I suppose that's my punishment for enjoying a little too much," she said and dropped the nub. Dr. Turner crushed it into the ground.

He shrugged and released another drag of his own. "Sometimes a little punishment is worth the reward." Then he dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. "Well, I best be off to Timothy and looks like you're wanted inside. Goodnight, Sister."

She waved and stood watching him as he walked to his car. "Goodnight, Doctor."