Summary: Nurse Training School - The London Hospital

Disclaimer: Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

Author's note: Many thanks for all the reviews. I have a feeling that this is going to morph from my intended one-shot (maybe two) into a fic of epic proportions - there is certainly a fair bit more to come. Once again, my grateful thanks to Sittingonthis for the feedback.

Six weeks of lectures and practical training flew by for Patsy and she couldn't believe they had already sat their first set of exams. Delia had been a godsend for her during revision; she had an astonishing memory and came up with the most outrageous rhymes and acrostics in order to remember information. Patsy had found herself humming to one of them as she recalled listing the causes of shock on her exam paper and it was all she could do not to laugh out loud. With the Welsh woman's help, Patsy was confident she had passed well, and was surprised to hear Delia doubt her own performance.

It had been an exquisite sort of torture for Patsy. She was drawn to Delia in so many ways. The brunette made her laugh, tolerated her seriousness and gave her space when she needed time on her own. Patsy craved Delia's company and realised that she was allowing Delia to see past her carefully crafted barriers and get to know the real woman underneath. It took time, and Patsy fretted that the more she let Delia in, the more she could be hurt should she lose her, but it was impossible to keep her distance. The two women planned weekend trips and Patsy enjoyed taking on the role of tour guide around various free museums and art galleries. She relished the precious weekend evenings when they were pretty much alone in the nurses home, playing cards or listening to the wireless. Patsy felt comfortable with Delia. She didn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't. With the exception of one thing; one very significant thing.

Patsy had been attracted to Delia from the moment she saw her. The woman's intelligent blue eyes coupled with an impish smile were seductive in their own right, but Delia was charming, earnest and cheeky, and she was irresistible to Patsy. So while Patsy allowed much of her protective cloak to be stripped away by getting to know the younger woman, she kept a firm grip on her feelings. It would only be a matter of time before Delia went off with the other nurses to find a boyfriend and that would be that. It was what Patsy dreaded would happen once they began their first placements. She and Delia had been assigned different wards and there was no guarantee that any of their shifts or their days off would match. After six weeks of practically living in each other's pockets, Patsy knew she would miss the brunette terribly, but it would also be good for Delia to make new friends. She just hoped that they would still be able to share the odd evening together.

Patsy sighed heavily. Lying on her bed moping was not going to do her any good. Delia had gone home for the weekend and had been buzzing with excitement at the thought of seeing her family again. Despite being homesick and desperate to go home, she had still taken the time to say goodbye to Patsy, and ask if she wanted her to stay. That gesture of kindness; of putting Patsy's happiness before her own had made Patsy's heart lurch. She was smitten, and she really didn't know what she was going to do about it. Patsy had shooed her away and told her that she would be perfectly fine on her own. Indeed, she had been happy in her own company. But Delia had spoiled her. Before, when Patsy had chosen solitude it had been a mechanism of self-preservation and a way to exert some control on her life. Spending time with Delia had shown her a whole different way of engaging with others, and Patsy adored it. There was a bittersweet irony that she would never be able to tell Delia how she loved her, and just how much that feeling affected her. But Patsy was a pragmatic woman, and a realist. If being in Delia's company and being her friend was the most she could have, then it would be enough; it would have to be enough.

She was startled from her musings as her door crashed open and the focus of her thoughts came flying through. "Did your visit home include a brush up on your manners?" She enquired with a grin.

Delia frowned at her for a moment in confusion, before grinning back madly as she realised Patsy was referring to the lack of a knock at the door. "Don't be daft. I've got three older brothers. We don't have manners, we fight for survival."

"Charming. I could have been busy you know," Patsy pointed out, continuing the charade.

Delia stopped for a second. "Yes, you could." She winced as she realised that in her excitement to get back to London, or more accurately, Patsy, she had completely forgotten that the other woman could have been doing other things. "Sorry," she apologised belatedly.

Patsy saw Delia's train of thought telegraphed on her face. "Really Delia. Who on earth would I be likely to keep company with if not you?"

Delia shrugged, well and truly derailed by the thought that Patsy would be spending time with other people and confused by how that made her feel. She made an effort to return her mind to the reason for abrupt arrival. "They've posted the exam results. I overheard Millicent talking to June as I was coming up the stairs. Who would have thought that Matron would do all the marking over the weekend? Did you want to come and take a look?"

Patsy got up hurriedly. "Why didn't you just take a look on your way up? You must have walked straight past the notice board." The blonde trainee stubbed out her cigarette and found a pair of shoes to put on.

"I didn't want to see them by myself. What if I've failed? I've only just come back from Wales. I don't think I could face another trip so soon."

Patsy laughed. "Delia, I will buy the next two bottles of gin if you've failed. In fact, I will buy the next two bottles if you aren't in the top half of the scores."

Delia patted the bag that she hadn't yet put down. "Well in that case we will be swimming in booze. Dad got me some vodka to bring back."

Patsy held out her hand and Delia passed the bag over. She stashed it in the bottom of her wardrobe, placing her dressing gown over the top of it. "You can't take that with you. Supposing the Bursar is there. She's bound to be around for those that..." Patsy stopped suddenly, not wanting to complete the sentence, knowing how much Delia was worrying.

"For those that fail," Delia finished anyway. "You're right. Come on. Let's get it over with. I'm either going to be celebrating or commiserating, and all this not knowing is just eating into our drinking time."

"That's what I like about you, Delia," Patsy commented, ushering the smaller woman out of the room. "Whether it's good news or bad, you're always prepared to make the best of it."

The two women hurried down the stairs to the notice board. There was a small crowd around it, with various reactions from the students as they read their results. The comments died down as Patsy and Delia approached and the Welsh woman slowed, sensing something was wrong. "You go Pats, I'm not sure I can face it."

"Delia, why are you doubting yourself?"

"I've only had local grammar school education. I don't think it's going to compare well against boarding school standards."

Suddenly, Patsy understood Delia's insecurities. "Delia, we have all been learning the same subjects from the same tutors. This is a level playing ground. We're all equals now."

When Delia didn't move, Patsy offered a lop-sided smile. "Wait there and I'll get your marks," she offered. She threaded her way through the group of students in front of her and looked at the list, working her way up from the bottom, as was her own habit from boarding school.

She turned and stepped back to where Delia hovered nervously. "Well, thanks to your amazing revision techniques, I got a very creditable 82% and was fifth in the class," she declared with a smile.

Delia only just stopped herself from throwing her arms round her to congratulate her and instead grasped Patsy's hand as she returned a delighted smile. "That's fantastic. I'm so proud of you." She looked over at the board. The other girls had not dispersed and were instead looking at her and talking softly with one another. "What's going on, Pats?"

"Well it would seem that the girl with the local grammar school education has set the standard for exam results."

"What?"

Patsy shook her head and turned her hand round so that she could grasp Delia's. "Come with me," she instructed, leading her to the board.

Delia walked over reluctantly and, mimicking Patsy, scanned the results sheet from the bottom, staring for a long moment when she eventually found her name and marks.

"That can't be right," she whispered.

"Do you think you've been under marked?" Patsy asked, straight-faced.

A nearby student burst out laughing. "For god's sake don't moan about 97% Delia. You've put us all to shame."

The other girls laughed and approached Delia, clapping her on the back and congratulating her on the score. She was very clearly top of the class. After six weeks of being on the periphery and sneered at for her provincial accent and upbringing, Delia was suddenly thrust among them, proving that she deserved her place at the teaching hospital. Patsy was unaccountably proud.

Delia turned and smiled at Patsy in wonder. "Are we celebrating?" She asked.

"Definitely," Millicent James interrupted. "We should all go out. And neither of you are allowed to hide in your rooms either. We can all celebrate together."

Delia looked inquiringly at Patsy, slightly overwhelmed by the sudden attention but drew strength from the slight nod of the older woman. Knowing that Patsy would be with her made Delia relax slightly as she was sure she could face anything with the tall blonde by her side.

While lectures had been mentally exhausting, there had been a clear pattern to each day that all of the students had fallen into easily. It mimicked their schooling with dedicated class times, lunch times and weekends off. A placement on a hospital ward was a completely difference experience however. Many of the students hadn't done any sort of manual labour before and were physically exhausted from making beds, turning patients and spending almost the entire shift on their feet. In addition, the students were expected to undertake the full range of shifts in order to get used to having to work through the night and eat and sleep at all sorts of odd and irregular times.

Delia was used to working long hours and shifting heavy rolls of cloth as she spent much of her time assisting in her father's Drapers shop. This gave her quite an advantage over many of the girls as she just kept going, taking on task after task. However, it also meant that she took on more than her fair share of late and night shifts, as she was the only one of the students placed in the department that made no complaint of the workload.

Patsy had been well received on her ward, approaching every task with a brisk efficiency and an obsession with cleanliness that matched Matron's. Scarred by her experience in the internment camp, Patsy also completed every task without complaint. She quickly integrated into the team, and was allocated late shifts and night shifts as she clearly did not need as much supervision as the other students.

The trouble was that despite them both working more anti-social hours, their shift times did not match well and the women found that they saw very little of each other in the first few weeks.

Delia missed Patsy terribly. While the other student nurses were now much more friendly and inclusive, the Welsh woman had yet to build up close bonds with them. As the days went by, she realised that she did not want to get as close to them as she did with Patsy. There was something inexplicable that drew her to the blonde woman. She didn't need to make any effort to be comfortable in her presence. They had spent evenings barely speaking to each other and yet totally relaxed, with no superficial obligation to fill the silence. Delia felt that she had something special with Patsy, and although that realisation made her happy, it also frightened her. She was starting to obsess about Patsy and think about her in a way she hadn't thought about anyone else. Delia brushed aside those thoughts, deciding that she was preoccupied with Patsy because she had gone from seeing her every day to snatching glimpses and an odd conversation if they happened to be in their rooms and awake at the same time.

Craving the need for her company, and firmly ignoring the potential reason for the cravings, Delia had copied her off duty for the next three weeks in the hope that she could sit down with Patsy and find some quality time together. The trouble was that she wasn't sure when she might even bump into her to discuss the schedules, she thought gloomily as she trudged toward her room. The brunette toyed with the idea of simply shoving a note under Patsy's door, but that felt a bit desperate. She didn't want to be a burden on Patsy either, especially as she seemed to be getting on so well.

She looked up and broke into a smile when she heard a door open at the end of the corridor and Patsy step out. "Hello Pats," she called, unable to keep the relief and joy from her voice.

"I thought I recognised those squeaky shoes," Patsy replied, returning a wide grin of her own.

"My shoes do not squeak," Delia protested, wincing as she heard them do just that as she stepped forward.

Patsy's grin turned into a smirk. "Please tell me you're on a late or off tomorrow. I haven't seen you in ages." Although she said it lightly, there was a hint of desperation to Patsy's tone.

"I can't do that," Delia replied, surprised at how quickly Patsy's face fell with disappointment. "I'm on a night. It means I can stay up as late as you want."

Patsy's demeanour lifted instantly. "Marvellous. I'm on a night too. Get changed and bring supplies," she ordered briskly.

Delia's eyes opened wide in amusement. "Alright Miss Bossy."

Patsy winced. "Sorry. It's just been so long, I don't want to waste a minute."

Delia's heart skipped a beat; it felt wonderful to be so needed and it gave some proportion to her own feelings of needing Patsy. Perhaps they weren't quite so scary as she first thought. "Alright. But I'm changing into my pyjamas. I've been in a starched uniform all day. All I want to do is relax."

Patsy nodded in approval. "In which case I will do the same. You have five minutes Miss Busby."

Delia wasted no time getting changed, although she took care to hang up her uniform. She also took a few moments to brush out her hair, grateful to remove the grips that kept it in place for her shift. Finally, she grabbed the whiskey and her glass before opening the door, looking out surreptitiously to ensure that the corridor was clear, and then hurrying into Patsy's room.

Patsy looked up from her bed and smiled. True to her word, Delia was in her nightwear, and looked adorable in cream pyjamas that had a small blue flower pattern dotted across them. "Bare feet? How bold," she teased.

"If my feet get cold I will simply warm them on you," Delia replied primly. "But I'm not a fan of socks."

Patsy shook her head as she held out her hand for Delia's glass, returning it once it contained a healthy volume of whiskey. She shook the bottle sadly. "Our first dead soldier," she mourned dramatically.

Delia rolled her eyes as she snatched the bottle off Patsy and tossed it in the waste paper basket. It rattled loudly and she winced apologetically. "Sorry." They both waited for a few seconds, wondering if the noise had been loud enough to attract unwanted attention before Delia sat at the foot of the bed. "It won't be our last casualty, I'm sure," she decided as she took a sip.

"I can't leave it in there," Patsy sounded horrified.

"Relax, Pats. We're both on nights tomorrow. We can get rid of all the evidence when we go out for a late breakfast."

"Now who's making plans?" Patsy smiled.

Delia returned the smile easily, finding herself revelling in the older woman's company. "Well, I for one plan on having several very large measures tonight. I haven't seen you in weeks and I can't remember the last time I had alcohol so I think we deserve it."

Patsy nodded in agreement. "I can't fault your logic, so I will just have to join you. Cheers!" She reached over and they clinked glasses before drinking again.

They took their time, catching each other up over exploits on their respective wards, honestly admitting mistakes made as well as their successes. Patsy knew that she didn't need to pretend to be perfect for Delia; it wouldn't matter if she voiced her doubts. For her part, Delia was grateful to talk about what had gone wrong, so that they could pick it apart and see how to do things better, without fear of scathing and unnecessary criticism.

As they talked, they both relaxed more and the women adjusted their position on the bed, with Delia leaning on an elbow and her now cold feet tucked under the turned over fold of Patsy's sheet and blankets, while Patsy slouched back against the headboard.

Delia found herself looking at Patsy closely as she was speaking, and realised that she was focussing on her lips. A sharp stab of alarm went through her as her alcohol-befuddled brain tried to analyse why she was doing that and she sat upright, trying to gather her wits.

"Deels, are you okay?"

Delia's heart lurched at the same time as her stomach flipped when she heard Patsy use a shortened version of her name for the first time. It felt simultaneously wonderful and frightening. It was the most obvious sign yet that Delia had feelings for Patsy; feelings that went beyond close friendship.

She realised belatedly that Patsy was looking at her in concern. "Er, yes. I'm fine." She couldn't get her brain to work as she panicked. What was she thinking? How had this happened? "Gosh, I think I'm out of practice," she continued, desperately trying to find a way to get some distance.

"Do you mind if I call it a night?" Delia felt her heart contract again when she saw the disappointment flit across the blonde nurse's face. "Let's do breakfast a bit earlier. Perhaps spend some time out and about before we need to take a nap for night shift." The Welsh woman knew she was babbling and over-compensating, but she needed to get away now so she could get a grip on her emotions.

Patsy nodded. Something was obviously up with Delia, but she clearly didn't want to talk about it. Given all the times Patsy had avoided conversations with Delia, she knew it wouldn't be fair of her to try and pin her down on what was wrong, and tried to reason that Delia would tell her when she was ready. "Go on, I'll tidy up," she offered softly as she stood.

Delia smiled in thanks before exiting hurriedly. As she got back into her own room the brunette leaned back against the door and slowly slid down to the floor, holding her head in her hands. She had no idea what to do next.

To be continued...