Firstly, I would very much like to thank everybody who has stayed with this story so far. This is the first fanfiction that I have written and it has been really wonderful to receive such positive feedback. I absolutely intend to keep writing, and hope to publish other works shortly.

The soft whirring of the bike chain and the steady rhythm of pedalling worked to ease Patsy's stress, and, for the first time in the past two days, she felt able to relax. Her grasp on the handlebars loosened slightly as she freewheeled along the edge of the docks. It had a been an enchantingly beautiful day, and now, at dusk, the wispy clouds that were scattered across the horizon were tinged a delicate pink by the setting sun.

Taking her right foot off the pedal, Patsy eased on the brakes and came to a halt on the pavement. This was too breath-taking a spectacle to disregard, and so she allowed herself a minute leant against the railings, watching the Thames turn a stunning amber in the evening light. Ships were silhouetted against the vibrant backdrop, and Patsy wished that she could somehow capture the scene in all its glory before it faded away.

She wished that Delia was there to see it too.

The knot in her stomach twisted and tightened as she thought of her. In the past couple of days, since the incident with Karen and Ruth, they had barely spoken. The silences had been unbearable. It was as if Ruth's injury had shattered any illusions that she and Delia had had of safety or stability, and dredged up all of the old anxieties and worries that had plagued the early days of their relationship.

Poor, darling Delia.

Dragging her stare away from the horizon, she mounted her bicycle and pushed down hard on the pedals, feeling the wheels respond beneath her. With a new energy, she swerved her way through dock workers and up into the terraced streets. A few neighbours called out exuberantly to her as she ducked beneath washing lines and manoeuvred a group of children playing cricket with distressed, old bat and a small crate acting as the stumps.

With a final turn, she made her way up through the tunnel, and parked her bike alongside the others in the shed beside Nonnatus House. The building itself was looking particularly charming, drenched in the glow of the sunset. Patsy unfastened the straps on the back of her bike to lift out her medical bag. As usual, it was much lighter than it had been that morning, and she carried it easily up to the door to let herself in.

Sister Mary Cynthia was emptying the autoclave as Patsy placed her bag down on the bench.

"Once this is empty, it's all yours, Patsy," she told her cheerfully.

"Thank you, Sister,"

There was then a period of quiet before Patsy, who had been deliberating on how to raise the issue on her mind, finally spoke.

"You haven't seen Delia about, have you, Sister?"

She tried to force a casual tone into her voice, but as the words left her mouth she became aware that she sounded strained. Sister Mary Cynthia studied her for a split second, her lips pressed tightly together. What was it that Patsy could see etched in her expression? Pity? Sadness?

"The last time I saw her, she was in the chapel,"

The last item was lifted from the autoclave and Patsy reached to begin loading her own utensils, before Sister Mary Cynthia put her hand out to stop her.

"Let me fill the autoclave. Go and see Delia. I think that she needs you,"

"You're quite sure?"

Sister Mary Cynthia nodded, understanding radiating from her smile.

Patsy stumbled over her words with gratefulness and half ran from the room to the chapel. When she reached the doorway, she peered inside, searching for Delia.

She was not hard to see. Still in her uniform, she was sat with her head bowed respectfully on the front pew. Her hair was tied up in its usual fashion, and Patsy could see the smooth skin of her neck and the elegant line of her jaw from the way her head was angled.

A wave of trepidation washed through her as she began to walk down the aisle towards her. She trod lightly on the stone floor; Delia looked so blissfully serene that she did not want to disturb her, but eventually she could stay silent no longer.

"Delia,"

Her voice barely sounded like her own. The emotions of the last few days swiftly released themselves and she began to struggle to even stay standing. Blood pounded in her ears and her heart was thumping so forcefully inside her chest that she was certain that it could be heard. The vision of Delia, who was now stood in front of the alter, swam as new, hot tears spilled across her cheeks.

And then she was there.

Delia's arms wrapped around Patsy, holding her closely, whispering words of consolation, her tone so reassuring and supportive. Her warm hand rubbed slow circles on her back, easing the jumpy heaves that racked Patsy's body. Her warmth and presence surrounded Patsy, and she clung desperately to her.

"Shh," she murmured, "It's okay, Pats,"

Reaching into her dress pocket, Delia produced a handkerchief, which she used to dab Patsy's eyes dry.

"There,"

The light seeping through the stained-glass window gleamed on Delia's dark hair.

"I'm sorry… I tried to… but I didn't know… I want you to… I'm sorry,"

Delia shook her head, and led Patsy to sit down on the pew in the first row. Patsy's knees almost buckled, and she felt a huge sense of relief at being sat down.

"Patsy," Delia began, "You don't have to apologise because there's nothing to be sorry for. What happened to me… it's all in the past now. I will never leave you ever again because I love you. I love you more than I knew it was even possible to love anybody. You complete me, and there is not any obstacle that I would not overcome to be with you,"

Their fingers intertwined as Delia kept speaking.

"I know that living with secrets is frightening, but we're making it work, and we will continue to do so until a day comes when we won't have to be afraid anymore,"

Delia's face was so earnest and prepossessing that Patsy was mesmerised.

"I love you, Delia,"

Taking Patsy's hand, Delia opened up her palm and placed a chaste kiss there before folding her fingers back down. Her skin tingled where Delia's lips had been, and Patsy squeezed her own hand tightly shut, as if she really could keep Delia's kiss enclosed there for eternity.

"Come on. Supper's bound to be ready any minute and we wouldn't want to be late for that,"

"Wouldn't we?" Patsy asked, playfully pulling Delia back to her as she made to stand.

"Nurse Mount! We are in the House of God!" Delia said, feigning outrage, "That behaviour is hardly appropriate!"

"I think it's perfectly appropriate," Patsy winked, leaning in to kiss the lip that Delia was biting to try and keep a straight face.

"Patsy, as lovely as your lipstick is, I really don't want to wear it in to dinner, if that's alright with you," Delia smirked, pushing her away, although secretly delighted at seeing the mischievous side of Patsy return.

"Spoilsport," Patsy pouted, but she allowed Delia to stand.

Their fingertips brushed past one another in a deliberate, lingering sign of affection as Delia left the chapel and, shaking her head to bring herself back to earth, Patsy followed after.