The sun was just trying to rise, and Delia was leaning against the frame of her front door, in her dressing gown, arms folded, despairing of the scene unfolding before her.
The black limo had pulled up to the pavement outside their flat, and she could already hear a very plaintive voice from the back.
"Is she there? Is she there?"
"No you're safe," Trixie slurred, climbing out of the far side of the limo, battling with a huge faux fur coat, her bee-hive hairdo having seen better days, and stumbling around to the door by the kerb. "No she's not, it's all right sweetie, she's not here." She opened the door and out toppled Patsy, sprawling onto the paving slabs, several bottles clattering on the concrete. Swaying, Trixie glanced up at Delia. "Oh god she's here, she's here sweetie."
Phyllis sighed in exasperation at Delia's shoulder.
"Mmm," Delia agreed. "I'm suddenly very glad we didn't have our hen parties on the same weekend."
"A very sensible idea I must say," growled the Northerner. "Come on, lets clean this up as quickly and as painlessly as possible."
Trixie was fruitlessly shoving at Patsy's legs, trying to get her clear of the car, but all it achieved was the inebriated blonde falling on top of the incapacitated redhead. Delia was grateful she'd insisted Patsy wear the ridiculously patterned spandex leggings, they were the only thing maintaining her dignity now her mini-skirt had ridden all the way up.
As Delia approached, Patsy managed to crack one eye open, a lopsided grin spreading across her face. "Hello darling Deels."
Delia couldn't help smirking at her wife-to-be. "You lot took the Ab Fab theme to the extreme I see."
"No! No we didn't!" Patsy whined, trying to roll over, hampered by Trixie's attempts to get back to her feet.
Glancing into the back of the limo, Delia was unsurprised to see Barbara passed out on the other seat, mouth open and snoring. Val was sat on the floor swaying, her shoulders shaking as she giggled.
"We got her home in one-piece…just…like we promised!" Trixie pointed out as she gave up on standing and knelt on the pavement
The welshwoman watched on bemused as Patsy finally managed to roll onto all fours, crawling towards her and grasping the leg of her pyjamas. "And I appreciate it," Delia said, grabbing hold of Patsy's hands before the drunk woman managed to tug her pyjamas down, "but I don't think any of you are going to appreciate the hangover in a few hours."
"One does not get hangovers sweetie," Trixie stated indignantly before toppling onto her arse.
Delia exchanged an exasperated glance with Phyllis, flinching as Patsy took hold of anything she could to try and haul herself up Delia's body, the gaudy knee-high boots not helping anything.
"I think I should see the rest of this lot home safely," Phyllis suggested, levering Trixie off the floor. "Do you think you can manage with that one?" she asked, nodding to Patsy who was now pawing at Delia.
"Are you sure Phyllis? You're gonna have your work cut out for you," Delia queried, batting Patsy's hand away from her chest as the redhead buried her face against her throat. "Might be better off sticking them all in the living room."
"I've seen plenty worse than this lass," she smiled wryly, encouraging Trixie to crawl towards the limo. "Come on Miss Franklin, in you get."
"Delia Busby," Patsy murmured against the brunette's neck, "you are the most beautiful thing in the world."
Delia barely managed to get hold of Patsy's wrist in time before her hand disappeared down her pyjama trousers, swaying under her fiancee's unsteady weight. "Enough of that cariad, wait till we get indoors."
Finally managing to bundle Trixie back into the car Phyllis climbed into the vehicle with her worse-for-wear charges. "Good luck Delia."
"And to you Phyllis, thank you for keeping me company last night." Delia rolled her eyes as Patsy pulled her tight against her body, littering her jaw with sloppy kisses.
Phyllis shook her head and chuckled as she closed the door, and the limo pulled away.
"I want to do very naughty things to you Deels," Patsy muttered against Delia's ear, her fingers drifting to the front of Delia's pyjama jacket.
"You can want all you like, it's not happening sweetheart," Delia laughed as Patsy singularly failed to undo her top button.
Patsy straightened up, sort of, a look of distress settling across her face. "Don't you want me to make love to you?"
"Pats, you couldn't manage anything that dexterous right now."
"But you still love me don't you?" Patsy whimpered, her eyes suddenly glistening.
Delia swiped her thumb under Patsy's eye to catch an escaped tear. "I'm marrying you aren't I? You fool."
"Are you?" the redhead asked quietly.
"Yes I am," Delia reassured her, giving her a soft kiss. "Because I love you very much." The delighted grin that spread across Patsy's face made Delia's heart soar. Drunk Pats did have a certain charm to her. "Come on then madam, lets get you inside," she suggested, manoeuvring Patsy towards their driveway.
"I can walk!" Patsy insisted, lightly shoving Delia away and staggering a few steps.
"Go on then." This I gotta see, Delia thought to herself as Patsy drifted to the left, managed to correct herself before swaying to the right.
Delia wasn't quite fast enough to catch the redhead before she toppled sideways into the flower bed. "That's what I thought," she sighed.
Needless to say, it was a right mission getting Patsy to the bedroom, Delia had never seen her this drunk before and while that held some novelty it didn't make things any easier. Eventually she managed to dump the woman onto the mattress and Patsy just lay there, sparko as soon as her head hit the covers. Evidently Delia was going to get no help in this final stretch either. After wrestling off her fiancee's boots, she turned her attention to skirt that Patsy was now wearing like a belt, trying to tug it down Patsy's lax body.
She was startled when a hand slapped hers away.
"No!" Patsy stated firmly.
Puzzled, she glanced at Patsy's face. She wasn't convinced the woman was conscious. "You don't want me to undress you Patsy?"
"No," Patsy insisted, surprising Delia further by rolling onto her side. "Only my fiancee gets to do that."
Delia couldn't help laughing at the response. At least Patsy was an honest drunk.
"Don't you laugh at her!" Patsy slurred, pointing an accusing finger at Delia. "Delia is lovely!"
"Is she now?" Delia giggled, easing the duvet over her love.
"She's fabulous," murmured Patsy, snuggling up to her pillow. "I love her. She's…the best…there…"
"The best what?" asked Delia, but the only answer she got was a definitive snore. She shook her head, smiling indulgently at her wife-to-be, and leaned over to kiss her temple. "I love you Patsy Mount."