This is certainly not the best piece of writing but I needed to indulge the need for some Turnadette banter and fluff :D
At five o'clock Shelagh was disturbed by the hearty thump of the front door followed by the distinct crescendo of steps being taken two at a time. Mere seconds later Patrick was at the door, throwing his jacket on the back of a chair and loosening his typically frightful tie as he came. His face creased into an adoring smile as soon as he clapped eyes on his wife's sleepy but contented face.
"You're back early," she grinned, carefully shifting herself into a more upright position.
"I sneaked away," he admitted, sheepishly. "I'll finish up my notes in the morning."
"Patrick!" reproved Shelagh, although neither of them looked very sorry. In two strides Patrick was beside the bed. He dropped his briefcase and caught up his wife's hand.
"I missed you," he grinned, grazing his lips across her knuckles. "There's not a second goes past that I don't wish you were back at work with me."
"Oh for goodness sake Patrick, stop being so gentlemanly and kiss me properly," sighed Shelagh, giving her hand a little tug. He didn't need to be asked twice. Settling himself beside her he leant to capture her lips with his, gently pushing her back against the pillow. He deepened the kiss straight away and traced her collarbone with the backs of his fingernails through the thin silk of her blouse, knowing all too well the effect this had on his wife. She shivered on cue and grabbed desperately at the nape of his neck, longing for him to make love to her but well aware this was out of the question in her condition. She surrendered herself fully to his embrace, dropping her hands to her sides in defeat as Patrick swiftly undid her top button to press kisses to the hollow at the base of her neck.
It was he who broke away a few minutes later, breathing heavily, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose and gently straightening her glasses for her. It was only then Shelagh felt able to open her eyes, meeting the dark sparkling gaze of her husband who was looking at her with an intensity that never failed to send chills down her spine. "I've grown used to having you there at clinic," he stated, running his fingers along her jaw line and down to settle at the side of her neck. "I miss hearing you chattering away to the patients just the other side of my door."
Shelagh smiled and tilted her head against his hand, revelling in the touch she had grown unable to go a day without and was missing desperately now there was no longer the opportunity to pop into her husband's office every once in a while. "We've been spoiled," she sighed. "And don't you worry, I'll be back again as soon as I am fit, even if that means having your new son or daughter there too to distract you from your work."
"I get distracted enough already," Patrick grinned, eliciting a soft chuckle and a reproachful look which he soon kissed off her face.
"Mmmm. Patrick-" murmured Shelagh after a while.
"Hmm?"
"The girls came to visit today."
"That's nice. What did they say?"
Shelagh smiled an impish smile. "Oh, this and that. They said I should mention to you 'appointment diary', ring any bells?"
Patrick stopped kissing the corner of her mouth and pulled away to meet her eyes, pouting in discomfort, an endearing blush creeping across his cheeks. "Ah, yes, well. I was hoping to keep that under my belt." Shelagh grinned.
"What is it, Patrick?!"
"Oh, just a few ideas for names I jotted down," came the gruff reply.
"I guessed as much," Shelagh exclaimed delightedly, bringing her hand up to brush his cheek, melting at the childish excitement her dear husband was trying so gallantly to conceal. "May I see?"
"It's on my desk in my office, so I'm afraid not," said Patrick, leaning swiftly in to kiss her again, to no avail.
"Liar! It's in your briefcase, I know it." Shelagh shifted herself into a sitting position and tried to push him off the bed. Having no success she made to reach for the case herself, almost losing her balance as she did so.
"Oh no you don't, you stay put, I know when I'm beaten." Patrick reached down and produced the diary, smiling bashfully. "I'd rather subject myself to this embarrassment than let you hurt yourself."
"My knight," Shelagh giggled, pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek. "Now then..."
"Some of them might be a bit, let's say, old fashioned," frowned Patrick, eagerly waiting for his wife to find his secretly scrawled list. "Well, that's what Emily always said when we were choosing names for Tim."
"Aha!" Shelagh cut in, finding the two haphazard columns hidden behind some prescription forms. "Now, let me take time to decipher this, well, one can hardly call it handwriting," she teased throwing him a rather flirtatious glance through her eyelashes. She began to scan the list. "Oh really Patrick, Cecil?"
"It was my grandfather's name," he shrugged.
"Please don't tell me that's Ignatius?" Shelagh looked so genuinely appalled that Patrick raised his hand to stroke her hair, trying not to laugh out loud.
"Well, that's when Trixie discovered me and I thought I'd throw her off the scent," he explained, chuckling as Shelagh's face flooded with relief. "Unless Ignatius Cecil Turner actually works for you, in which case I'm prepared to compromise."
"Well I have a feeling we're going to have a wee sister for Timothy, so that's neither here nor there."
"Oh really?" laughed Patrick. "Well I'm prepared to believe you as scientifically inept that is. How about after grandma Gertrude then?"
Shelagh ignored him. "I like Rose," she said, feeling all of a sudden really quite emotional as the reality of what they were doing hit home. "It reminds me of our first Valentine's Day, when you told me about the rose bush at Nonnatus. And your lovely wedding plans."
"Well if we're working on that theme, Hyacinths remind me of you now," smirked Patrick.
"Oh be quiet. We are not calling our child Hyacinth." There was a momentary pause as the words 'our child' rang clearly and beautifully in the peaceful room.
"You know," continued Shelagh after a few contented seconds. "We could call the baby anything at all. Nothing can take the fact that this is happening away from us now."
Patrick took both of her hands in his and saw his own overwhelming joy reflected back in her flaming agate eyes; they were sparkling with unshed tears, one of which escaped as she blinked up at him. Gently, Patrick wiped it from her cheek with his thumb and kissed her on the tip of her nose.
"Gertrude it is then!"
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