AN: Big Thanks to the wonderful Steff who can teach me more about grammar than a college degree ever did.

Also thanks for the reviews-it is always good to receive feedback. Feel free to leave more.

A slight warning, it will be a little while before a new update comes thru due to life things. However, I assure that there is definitely more to come...

"Just a little bit of sou-ou-ou-ou-oul
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Clap your hands just a little bit louder"

Stevie Wonder sang out from the record player as Delia tried her best to save her feet. It had been a long time since she had danced with a teenage boy. A younger Delia had avoided country dances like the plague, preferring to do anything else. Unfortunately, as her mother lectured, it was considered very rude to turn down any boy who asked for your hand. And so she had capitulated and suffered.

In contrast, it was such a vast difference to the first time that she had danced with Patsy. Alone in Delia's room at the Nurses Home, it had felt delicious to sway in the older woman's arms. It had taken a few songs to get the blonde (at the time) to relax all that formal training. Rigid arm stance became embraceable as sighs became kisses became...well…

Still, as much as she wished that someone more feminine was in her arms now, she knew that it would be too much of a risk here in Nonnatus House. Besides Patsy was on call tonight, and Timothy Turner desperately needed her help.

This had not been their initial plan for the afternoon. It seemed that each of them were eager to find any excuse to avoid talking about this week's designated topic. Willingly distracted, discussion had turned to the weekend.

"Alas, I'll be on call all weekend," Delia sighed.

"I'd rather do that then go to the dance at school," Tim commiserated. "But if I don't go then the lads will make sure I never hear the end of it," he sighed miserably.

Delia's heart broke to see such a kind teenage boy tying himself up in knots. She wasn't so removed from her own socially awkward days not to empathise.

"Haven't you asked any girl to go with you?" Delia asked.

He rolled his eyes so hard that she feared they would pop out from his head.

"Come on, I bet there's plenty of girls who are just waiting by the telephone for Timothy Turner to call," she cajoled cheerfully.

Timothy scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. His eyes fell to the floor.

"I can't even dance," he mourned.

"Oh well, that's easily rectified." Delia stood up. "We can start slowly," she said over her shoulder as she pulled out an Everly Brothers record and put it on.

"You really don't need to do," he said protesting as he stood up.

Delia grinned as she took up his scrawny arms and forced them into a dance position.

"It's my pleasure Tim," she said in a Welsh lilt as the record started.

By the time Fingertips was spinning on the record player, Delia's swollen toes needed a break. Regardless, Tim had managed to loosen up and seemed to have cheered up. As the needle flipped back into place, they heard a slow clap resound through the room. They turned together towards the sound.

"Not bad at all I say," Patsy Mount cheered.

She was leaning against the doorway dressed in her nurse's uniform. She had just returned from an easy birth to the utter delight of her girlfriend's swinging hips. Patsy could watch her girlfriend dance all day.

"Really Tim, this one is a better dancer than I am." Delia pointed toward Patsy as she caught her breath.

"Only if you're looking to take a girl out from Oxford or Mayfair. Society girls only." Patsy gave them a side smile.

"I think I'll stick with where I am," Tim grinned nodding toward Delia.

"My dance card is always free Mr. Turner," Delia winked.

Tim looked at his watch and started to gather his bags.

"Sorry Miss Busby, I have to fly. See you tomorrow!" he yelled as he ran out the door.

"It's Delia!" she hollered to his retreating back.

Patsy laughed at the whole scene. Her girlfriend joined in soon after. In no time at all they were both in stitches, and likely to be sent away for lunacy.

Without thought, Delia naturally clasped her Patsy's hand to keep balance. Looking down, Patsy couldn't help but look to see if anyone was there to see it. Her girlfriend caught her doing so, and let go. Delia became silent suddenly.

The moment was over.

"I'm going to make some tea. Would you care to join me?" Delia offered.

Patsy nodded and followed her into the kitchen. They were silent for a moment as each found themselves at a loss for idle chitchat. Patsy felt a great weight building in the pit of her stomach as she sat down. This forced awkwardness was becoming far too frequent between them. The silence was deafening.

"It was nice to see you enjoying yourself Deels. Should I be worried about Timothy Turner?" she smiled lopsidedly trying to break the tension.

"Oh my swollen feet suggest that he and I have far to go." She sighed and sipped from her cup. "It's wonderful seeing the boys again. Makes me miss when you were scout leader." She grinned to herself.

"I do miss those little scamps." Patsy sighed resignedly.

It was shortly after the South African SOS that she had quit as scout leader to the dismay of the young boys of Poplar. There was just too much to cover and not enough time. Something had to give and Patsy Mount was never one to do things by halves. So she had said goodbye to her Akela uniform. Fortunately, other community members had stepped into the breach. She still got hooted at occasionally by her former charges on the streets of Poplar.

"Pats, do you think that maybe we can talk about getting our own flat? You said that we'd wait until Summer was over, and look the leaves are starting to turn," Delia pointed out the window.

Patsy looked silently into her cup of tea. She didn't want to look into her girlfriend's hopeful face. The redhead shook her head uneasily.

"Deels…" she sighed dejectedly.

"Patsy. It's been 3 years since my accident. I haven't had any head related incidents in 18 months," Delia insisted. "You can't use my health as an excuse," she persisted.

Patsy stayed silent. At these moments she deeply resented how her girlfriend was so pushy about moving forward. Her defensive temper was starting to rise and being in a public area was not a good place to make a scene.

"Delia, can we just talk about this later? In somewhere less public?" she whispered testily.

Not answering, the brunette took her cup of tea and ditched it in the sink. She stood at the sink with her back to Patsy and her head down.

"And when will that be?" Delia asked with a more pronounced Welsh accent than usual. Patsy knew this was not a good sign. She desperately needed a cigarette.

As she opened her mouth to answer, she was saved by the ring of the telephone.

"Phone," Patsy said as she rose to answer it. Delia turned toward her as she rose to leave the room.

Patsy had never been more grateful to the expecting mothers of Poplar.

Timothy Turner knew that it was wrong to spy. He preferred to think of it in scientific terms. He was gathering data he justified to himself. The young man wasn't interested in learning secrets, or seeing anything disrespectful. Being a snoop too often meant you learned things that you'd rather you didn't. Not to mention getting caught would lead to an unimaginable embarrassment. And that was to be avoided at all costs.

Tim had his camera poised as he crouched in his covert spot facing her window. It was good to be prepared to capture her at an unguarded moment, and that was his objective today. He had been unsuccessful in this mission, over the past few weeks. It wasn't always because she wasn't one to look or lean out of open windows. (He had often seen Nurse Mount and Nurse Franklin leaning out their windows smoking.) Sometimes it was because he got so wrapped up in his observation that he forgot to shoot.

All the boys at school were in love with Nurse Franklin. They pried him for information about her all the time. School mates, and otherwise, hung outside the school on clinic days for hours until Nurse Crane shooed them away. Tim often smirked at them with glee as he strolled right in past the crowd.

"Turner! Two bob for just an introduction mate," they begged.

"Maybe," he offered with his palm out stretched. They turned out their pockets and sighed.

"We'll pay you tomorrow," they catcalled as he turned away shaking his head.

The nurses, as they were commonly known, were all beautiful in their own way. A few years ago he had found himself free to mock and scoff at the mushy-stuff that he witnessed between his parents, however now he took notes. He gathered several interesting texts on the scientific basis of love which mentioned dopamine pathways, evolutionary psychology, and even mother surrogacy. The last one had confused Tim greatly. The object of his feelings was not like the mother he remembered at all. And although she does live in Nonnatus House, she had never worn a habit like Shelagh. Regardless he found this scientific discussion to be more clear than any inconsistent talk of soul mates and the like.

After said research, he decided it was time for some observation in the field. He sought out a chance to see what she was like when no one was looking. Timothy had no doubt that her nature was inherently good (she was a nurse after all) but he did note some hidden sadness beneath her cheery exterior. Every fibre in his being wanted to lessen those moments. Flowers often lifted her despondency, so he searched the stalls for her stated favourites.

He looked up toward her window but didn't see her there. She was older than him, but he was confident that if he just waited a few years then that could be surmounted. Wasn't it Einstein who had said that all time was relative? Timothy Turner believed that waiting for love wasn't useless. It had worked for his dad, so he was willing to believe it was possible for himself.

And he knew that she was worth it.

Shelagh Turner always had a daily checklist. Being a nurse and a nun had taught her the value of always having a plan. It was never good to fritter away one's time due to disorganisation.

Today's checklist included a trip to the library to pick up some medical texts for Patrick, picture books for Angela, and whatever Timothy had reserved. She knew that some would look down on her for revelling in such mundane tasks. However, these little things were the unexpected joys of Shelagh's new existence.

Gathering her bag and coat, she noticed that her son had left out his history book in the parlour. Picking it up she realised that it wasn't a school book at all, but a tome of Welsh history. Shaking her head, she flipped through it absently. Her fingers naturally drifted to the bookmarked page half-way through the text.

She paused as she noted the photograph being used to place his spot. It was a photograph of Nurse Mount and Nurse Busby appearing to be out of uniform and on a night out. From their expressions they seemed to be unaware of a photographer's presence. Shelagh could see from the quality and size that it had been developed by an amateur. Perhaps even in her own home.

Placing the photograph and the book in her handbag she resigned herself to the fact that she'd have to add a trip to the surgery to her check list. She needed to discuss this with her husband and plan out a new course of action.

It would seem that the situation was more serious than she thought.

To be continued...