Masks Off

Slight AU set Late season 2 - the Midwives throw a masque ball as part of a community fundraiser. Turnadette One-shot

As Dr. Patrick turner approached the steps in front of the community center, he pulled a black fabric eye mask from his pocket. He held it rather awkwardly, almost as though arguing with himself about putting it on at all, but then a cheerful couple both wearing green eye masks with ribbons affixed to the side brushed past him and called out a greeting. He gave them a courteous nod before somewhat begrudgingly tying the mask around his face. He would feel silly for the whole evening, but he knew refusing the mask risked Trixie banning him from the party without it—or, at the very least, giving him a hard time about it. Besides, it was not as though he would be the only one wearing one; it was the theme of the evening, after all.

Though the idea of wearing any sort of costume at his age made him feel rather silly, he actually commended the midwife ladies for their unique idea of a Masque Ball for their spring fundraising event. The theme was a clever way to involve the community by not only having an active fundraising event rather than simply asking for donations, but to have fun in the process. They had even involved the school children by inviting them to craft some of the masks, which were sold for a few pence for those who had neither the time nor creativity to make their own. The doctor could not have brought himself to wear something covered in beads, ribbon, or buttons, but he had snagged one of the plain black ones before any decorations could be pasted or sewed on.

Mask securely on his face, he entered the community center and took in the jubilant atmosphere. The girls really had gone all out even with their limited budget as streamers seemed to be hanging from most every surface in the room. Half the dance floor was already full while others snacked on the food provided by the nuns, who of course could not attend a costumed soiree. He spotted Trixie wearing a gold mask that covered her eyes and nose and had small ears protruding out the top. Only upon seeing her did he recall hearing a conversation that the midwives were all going to be wearing cat-themed masks. (Evidently, animal theming was encouraged at these sorts of events, but not required.) Scanning the crowd, he saw Cynthia manning the table with drinks wearing a white cat mask that matched the white cardigan she wore over her dress.

He made the rounds, greeting all the residents who said hello or reached out to shake his hand. He found himself occasionally thrown off by the ones who wore more elaborate masks. The masks had obscured their faces such that he was not able to recognize them until they began to speak. Fortunately, the more people he spotted in elaborate masks, the more comfortable he felt in his.

On his third lap around the room, he spotted the illusive third cat - the black one - but much to his utter shock he knew immediately the woman behind the mask was not Jenny. She was too petite and lacked any boldness to her personality, as she was pressed against the wall in a manner that suggested she was considering disappearing inside of it. No, the black cat was not being played by Jenny that evening, but by another one of the Nonnatus House residents, which certainly was an intriguing development.

His curiosity piqued, he walked towards the back of the room so that he could observe her without standing near the dance floor and inadvertently being in anyone's way. From that angle he could see she wore a black knee-length dress with lace trim around the sleeve edges and collar—presumably Jenny's as well. What he could not discern was what she was doing there. Upon hearing the theme, Sister Julienne declared the event as one that the nuns could not attend, though, clearly, she was not attending as a nun. While he did not fully understand every aspect of their lifestyle, he was certain what she was doing was a violation of her vows, which only made him more curious as to her motives—and to whether or not she had interest in being anything more than a wallflower at the event.

After he felt that he had stared at her for an inappropriate amount of time, he decided to approach. He did not want to startle her, so he approached slowly—as one might approach a stray cat, as it happened. About a meter away from her he had to move a chair out of the way. The sliding feet against the floor made a squeaking sound that alerted her to someone nearby and she turned her head quickly in his direction. The moment their eyes met she shrank a bit further—he wasn't sure that was from embarrassment or guilt. Perhaps a little of both. Despite this, he couldn't stop his opening line from involving some good-natured teasing. "Excuse me, little black cat, but you don't seem to be hanging out with your kitten friends."

Her gaze darted nervously towards the refreshments area. "They don't know that I'm here." She confessed. "Mrs. Truman went into labor and Jenny was on call. She told me to use her costume. I'm sure she meant it as a joke but I decided to take it literally."

Patrick couldn't help but smile at her statement as it seemed so sweet and innocent. "They'd be thrilled to see you."

She glanced over to the corner of the room again and his gaze followed hers to see the white and gold cats stood together as they watched the dance floor. "Maybe in a little bit," she commented evasively.

He nodded, pleased that he now knew some of the reasoning behind her appearance at the party, though he remained curious as to her motivation. He wasn't going to outright ask as he felt it was rude—and likely she wouldn't reply with a direct answer—but perhaps in time she would, so he suggested something that he thought might make her feel more comfortable.

"Shall we sit?" He gestured towards two vacant chairs behind them and she nodded in agreement. He pulled one chair out for her then sat in the one beside it. As she sat down, she did so quite rigidly on the very edge of the chair with her hands trapped tightly between her knees.

They sat together in a companionable silence as the song that played came to a close. The next one the band struck up was one Patrick recognized as one that was popular several years prior. The music seemed to grow even louder as the band hit their groove with the song, and it encouraged him to his next debatably crazy idea. He leaned over so he could speak closely to her ear and asked, "Would you like to dance?"

She turned towards him, and he could see her gaze was wide beneath the mask. "I shouldn't."

Without missing a beat, he offered a cheeky grin and said, "Go on then. If you're breaking a few rules, you may as well break all of them."

She appeared scandalized for several seconds, and he liked to think it was because he was calling her out on her atypical behavior, but he stood by the statement. Whatever he reasons for breaking her vows with her actions that evening, she was already, by her way of life, committing sins. He very much doubted it was simply to try on Jenny's dress, because if that was the case, she would not have had to leave Nonnatus House to do so. She was giving herself a night out—the reasoning didn't matter to him, but he figured as long as she was there she might as well experience it to the fullest. To this, he remained uncertain she'd agree, as she had seemed quite content to hide along the wall presumably in an effort to remain anonymous.

For five more seconds she stared at him. Then, much to his surprise, she popped up into a standing position and gazed down at him expectantly. Not wanting to give her a chance to overthink and regret her decision, he grabbed her hand and pull her onto the dance floor.

Though he wanted her to have fun during the dance, they did end up stumbling through the first half of the song. At one point, he tripped over his own feet which, while mildly embarrassing, also served as a reminder that he hadn't danced very much at all in his adult life, and not once since his wife died. Objectively, he was not the worst dancer (passable, might have been a good term for his skills) he simply lacked the opportunity due to spending most of his time working or reading and researching about medical related topics. Perhaps, he decided, it was time to add a bit more fun into his schedule.

As it happened, he had picked the perfect dance partner for his rusty skills for she too seemed a bit unsure of her footing. By the end of the song, they had found their footing, which in his mind meant they had to continue dancing into the next one. Thankfully, she didn't seem eager to leave the floor and they found their rhythm even easier that time. He even twirled her around, which nearly worked, though she did bump back into him with a bit more forced than either of them expected. Neither seemed to mind, though, as it caused them both to laugh heartily.

Two dances turned into three and he would have been more than happy to continue on to four and five (though at the rate he was going, he was probably going to need a glass of water before anything after that!), but it seemed the band was tired of playing upbeat songs and switched to one of a slower nature. As couples came together around them, she appeared to freeze up and he almost dropped her hand and backed away to give her a chance to escape. Almost. Had he done so, the evening may have taken on a different trajectory, but he didn't. He held on to her hand, gazed down at her, and gave a little shrug in a silent way of allowing her to make the decision. She gazed up tentatively for several more seconds and then, much to his utter delight, took a step forward, placing her free hand atop his shoulder. He moved his hand to her waist, and they began to sway to the music.

Had someone told Patrick earlier that day that this was how his evening would be ending, he never would have believed them. Even with her there in his embrace with the top of her head ever so close to his lips, he still struggled to comprehend it. As far as he was concerned, they could have stayed in that position for the rest of the night, but their dance ended up lasting barely more than thirty seconds before a couple exiting the dance floor bumped into them. The couple apologized and he would have been fine brushing off the incident, but she was not. She froze once again and her expression turned to one of alarm such that he was immediately concerned she had been injured in some way, but before he could ask, she abruptly pulled away from him and scurried through the wake left behind by the couple. Through the parting crowd he could just barely see her disappearing through the door leading to the side room of the community center which held the kitchen and a small dining area.

Patrick was so startled by her abrupt departure that it took him nearly another fifteen seconds to react. He sidled his way through the dancing couples, pulling off his mask as he did so, then walked slowly into the other room, letting the door close gently behind him. He did not see her in the immediate vicinity but could hear footsteps which lead him to guess she was in the kitchen area, which was interesting given what had happened between them in that space the last time they were alone together. Two weeks had passed since then—two weeks filled with stolen glances that may or may not have had double meanings. Now, with everything else that had happened that day, he genuinely wasn't sure what would take place when he walked through the kitchen door, but he could not help but silently pray for a better outcome than the last time.

Stuffing his mask into his pocket so it was out of his hands, he stepped through the kitchen doorway and found her facing the counter, palms flat against it and the cat eye mask resting between them. She didn't look up, so he gave her another moment before asking softly, "What happened?"

"I don't know," she replied rather pitifully. She wasn't crying, but distress was evident in her tone. "I forgot…for a moment I forgot there were others around us and when they bumped into me, I was jolted back to realizing we weren't alone."

"We're alone in here."

She gave him a cautioning look and he felt his heart rate speeding up at the proposal he was about to make. "We can still hear the music. We can just…finish the dance and then I'll walk you home."

He took the fact that she did not outright tell him no as a positive sign, so he picked up her right hand from where it lay and used it as leverage to pivot her body away from the counter. She stepped towards him and reached out her left hand towards his upper arm but a force beyond his comprehension compelled him to nudge their touch boundaries just a little bit further. He caught her hand and guided it up over his shoulder to where it could rest at the edge of his collar. As he lowered his hand, he let his fingers drag down the back of her hand, over her wrist, and across her bare forearm until he reached the edge of her dress sleeve. He heard her sharp intake of breath and froze with his fingertips just beside her waist, wondering if she would back away, hoping that she wouldn't. After several seconds when she had not moved, he felt it was safe to settle his hand against her waist.

They swayed on the spot until the last notes of the song were beginning to play. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. His natural response was to press his cheek to the top of her head. The song ended, but neither of them seemed to notice. They continued to sway, each of them testing the waters even further with his hand sliding closer to the middle of her back and hers curling around the back of his collar so her thumb and index finger brushed against his hair. He brought their joined hands in closer so that they rested near his shoulder. He was half considering trying to kiss her hand again to see if, considering in their undeniably intimate position, it might be better received, when he accidentally bumped his foot into hers.

"Sorry." He spoke instinctually, then regretted it, fearing the disruption in silence might break the spell, but fortunately it had the opposite effect. She lifted her head, their gazes met, and he instantly felt transported to another world, where gravity only existed to pull the two of them together. He felt her fingers curl against the back of his head, and he made the boldest move of his entire life and kissed her. Their lips touched only briefly as he wanted to give her the chance to stop them if she so chose. But she didn't. She bumped her nose against his and unlinked her fingers from his, sliding her hand up his chest to meet her other behind his neck. In this position he brushed his lips against hers once more, hardly able to stand the hammering of his heart inside of his chest—and hardly believing that she wasn't pulling back, but she wasn't and so, he decided, neither would he.

He drew her in, giving her a proper kiss for the first time and it felt more wonderful than he could have ever dreamed. Her fingers slid into his hair, and it set every nerve ending in his body on fire. With one hand at her waist and the other at her shoulder he rotated them a quarter turn and took a step forward so that her back pressed into the counter. She let out a small gasp of surprise and her open lips allowed him the opportunity to tentatively deepen their kiss. She let him in and, a moment later, let out a soft sigh. His brain began to think through the half dozen different things that could come next, but his hand brushing against the cool edge of the counter a few moments later thankfully brought him to his senses. He regretfully came to the conclusion that it was probably not the best idea to ravish her in the community center kitchen when half of Poplar was in the next room and could walk in on them at any moment.

With great effort, he broke their kiss and instead rested his forehead against hers while his heartrate began to fall back to normal. For several seconds they remained in that position with her hands atop his shoulders and his at her waist until he took a full step back and gazed down at her. They stared at each other for another twenty seconds before he asked softly, "What happens now?"

She twisted her lips to the side and gave a little shrug. "I don't know. I…I came here tonight because I've felt so unsure and unsettled in my life. I wanted to give myself a chance to see what things could be like if I had a life more like Jenny's with the added element of being somewhat anonymous because of the masks. This was a little more than I expected."

He let out a breathy laugh as that seemed like quite an understatement.

"I don't mean that in a bad way," she continued quickly. "I didn't even think I'd have the courage to dance. I just thought… maybe I could sit beside you and have a drink."

"Well, there's still time for that."

That time she laughed. It was a light, melodic sound that made his heart feel like flying.

Before anything more could be said, the door leading to the main room of the community center burst open and two figures entered in mid conversation.

"…have more of that in here. I had no idea everyone would be so—oh!" Trixie gasped when she stepped into the kitchen with Cynthia just behind her. Her gaze darted back and forth to the two stunned occupants. An agonizing ten seconds of silence passed before she said quietly, "I think we may have just interrupted something."

"Oh no, we were just-" he began until he realized he had no idea how to finish his sentence. A second later she jumped in with "talking," and then he stupidly added, "about work."

Trixie's eyes widened. "Well now I know I've interrupted something, but we just need to get the extra drink containers and then we'll be out of your hair." She slid past them, pulled the glass containers from the refrigerator, handing one of them to Cynthia, and then brushed past them once more. Just as she was about to walk out of the kitchen, she turned back to them and said, "Jenny's dress does look quite nice on you, Sister." Then, with a cheeky smile, she hurried out of the room.

He gazed over at her and, noticing she appeared rather stunned, he offered, "At least they didn't catch us kissing."

She gasped and then scolded him with, "That is not funny."

"Actually, it rather is," he countered a smile playing on his lips.

A woeful expression crossed her face, and she scrubbed her fingertips over her forehead and began to pace on the spot. "Oh…I have to tell Sister Julienne about all of this."

"Weren't you always going to?"

"I mean, now I must tell her tomorrow. I was going to wait a day or so to come up with the right words."

"For what it's worth: I don't think Trixie would tattle on you."

She nodded. "I know, but I don't feel right with Trixie and Cynthia knowing while Sister Julienne does not."

"I understand."

After another lap around the kitchen, she stopped walking and gazed at him. "The truth is…I've known since I pulled this dress out of Jenny's wardrobe. I told myself I was just trying out Jenny's life, but I was just trying to find my way back to mine. I wanted you to see me that way as well—as Shelagh, not as a sister. I can't go back to the way things were. Not now."

A smile spread across his face upon hearing her given name for the first time. Shelagh. He liked it; it fit her well. Speaking softly as he stepped towards her, he said, "I don't want to go back either. And for the record: I see you. Habit or cat costume, I see you, Shelagh."

She nodded and her eyes drifted shut. He could see the wave of relief and hope wash across her face, and, when a tear slipped out of her eye, he reached out and brushed it away with his thumb. She leaned her face against his hand, and he cradled her cheek. When she opened her eyes, they shared a smile, and he leaned down to kiss her once more.

"C'mon," he said, nodding his head towards the opposite wall. "Let's sneak out the side door and I'll walk you home."

She agreed and they walked out onto the street together. The night air was cool, so he offered her his jacket, but she declined. She did accept his hand when he slipped it into hers. They paused just before they reached the steps of Nonnatus and she turned to face him with a soft smile. "Goodnight, Doctor."

He almost cringed at how formal and impersonal her goodbye sounded. "I think its time you called me Patrick."

"Goodnight, Patrick."

"Goodnight, Shelagh," he replied. Then, he waited for her to walk up the steps and step inside before turning and returning to his car near the community center, feeling for the first time in quite some time an utter abundance of hope for the future.