A/N: Apologies for the long wait for this chapter but that is a thing that happens when your amazing beta reader Steff goes on holiday. I thank her immensely for her help with grammar, Anglicization and story sense. If you have not, I highly recommend checking out her current work "Convergence."

Anyway this is longish so I hope that makes up for the wait. Reviews are always welcome and motivating.

Patsy Mount never thought that she would seek out the opportunity to cycle down by the docks alone. She was not keen on the idea of using work as an excuse to avoid Delia. However, this time she was grateful as being alone gave her a proper chance to think.

She couldn't help but analyse every word and look and breath that had occurred in the kitchen two days ago. They had missed each other ever since due to horrendous early and late shifts. Delia's voice had quivered slightly before Patsy had fled. The redhead was unsure whether that had been in anger or sadness. Sometimes those emotions were far too similar. And Patsy hated to be the cause of either.

Yet, here they were.

In retrospect, 1962 had been the best year of her life. It seemed that she and Deels had gained everything back that they had lost the prior year. In fact, they had gained far more than they had thought possible. Waking up together became a regular occurrence in a nearly empty Nonnatus House as they had stayed to hold down the fort while the majority had gone to South Africa. At first Patsy had been slightly disappointed not to be going, but when she saw the sly smile on Delia's face…

Well, it seemed as if a chance at more privacy had landed in their laps. The ability to be together so intimately was a sweet gift which Patsy had been grateful for every morning that she had awoken in Delia's arms. And yet she now saw that such freedom was dangerously addictive as it was ripped away upon everyone's return. The return to late night visits in and out of beds felt like an unfortunate step backward. Yet they had endured and any chance to be together was cherished and held dear.

Patsy had been jubilant when Delia had ploughed straight into midwifery training. She had long ago settled into midwifery as her calling. It felt like a vocation which now they could share together. It had been like a return to their training days when they had first recognised each other's professional ambition. She felt like it had bonded them further.

Or at least that's what she had presumed.

"We need to talk" the brunette had reached for her hand.

Patsy sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Those are my four least favorite words in the English language."

They had been enjoying a rare night alone. Patsy leaned up against the headboard of Delia's bed. Her girlfriend sat at the foot of the bed facing her. A bottle of wine between them. Delia had been quiet all night, clearly something on her mind. The redhead prepared herself for the worst.

"Please promise me that you will listen. Don't react until I have finished." Her eyes were pleading as Patsy nodded in agreement.

"Pats, I've been offered a job at the London in the Intensive Care Unit. I want to take it." She asserted and finished the glass in her hands.

"Why would you want to go back there? The men are horrid and the women are worse," Patsy argued.

"To you they are. I have always been able to manage it." Delia attested quickly back.

Patsy looked away. She clenched her jaw in anger as she rose toward the door.

"Don't leave Pats. We need to talk this out. I need you to support my decision," she asked in a noticeably thicker Welsh tongue.

Patsy turned around.

"Why would I support something that means we are together less? I said that I would find a way for us to be together." She gestured toward the empty room. "And we are. I'm sorry if it's not good enough for you" Patsy replied haughtily.

"Is this it? Is this all that we will have together?" she asked pointedly. "Because I did not leave Pembrokeshire to settle for a room in a nunnery and birthing other women's babies year after year."

"Clearly you have made your decision, Delia. Thanks for informing me of your plans." she said icily and placed her hand on the doorknob to leave.

She felt her lover's arms clasp her arms around her waist. Her body halted as she felt Delia lean into her back.

"I love you dear. Please don't leave" she asked softly. Patsy turned to face her and her anger melted. Placing her arms around the brunette's neck she leaned in against her forehead as Delia adjusted her arms as a grasp became a hold.

"I just thought that this could be our future," Patsy replied as softly as a whisper.

"Oh cariad, I know that this is your calling. But it's not mine. I want to be a Matron some day," she said earnestly.

"And you will. I know you will" Patsy put on a lopsided smile and kissed her love softly.

So, it had not been a shock when Sister Julienne announced that Nurse Busby was returning to the London. It was announced to cheers and jeers that Instead of staying a midwife, Delia had leveraged her certificate and training into a higher hospital position. It made every logical sense in Patsy's mind. And yet it still felt like a rejection.

Patsy simply stayed silent as Delia was surrounded by the other nurses.

Nurse Crane sidled up beside her.

"I'll have you know that Sister Julienne and I spent several hours trying to convince her to stay. She remained stubbornly steadfast," Nurse Crane said lowly enough that no one else heard.

"She'll be a matron one day" Patsy said cooly.

"I presume so" Nurse Crane said as she joined the group to congratulate the brunette.

The redhead remained on the fringe of the group that night. To any outsider she maintained a veneer of pride and happiness for her "best" friend. However, she remained separate and a bit detached from the proceedings.

Patsy had been lucky enough to be assigned to clinic the day that Delia had returned to the hospital ward that summer. She welcomed the cacophony and routine that the community of Poplar provided that day. It was a welcome distraction, as she sat recording the day's urine samples.

"It appears that Mrs. Castle has been able to squeeze out some more to send along to Dr. Turner," Nurse Crane announced as she placed the jar on the table.

"Delightful," Patsy looked up ruefully.

Nurse Crane turned to leave, but then pivoted on her heels.

"Nurse Mount, forgive me but you look as if someone has killed your prize pony," Nurse Crane said with blunt compassion.

"I never had a prize pony, I'm afraid," the redheaded nurse replied wryly.

"I thought all you posh girls had ponies," Nurse Crane smiled gently ribbing.

"Not an equestrian, I'm afraid," Patsy smirked as she finished the log on the clipboard and placed it with the others for filing.

Nurse Crane smiled back at the banter. She knew it was a good sign.

The nurses walked together into the hall toward the dissonance of the gymnasium. The elder nurse paused before they reached the door.

"Chin up Nurse Mount. I appreciate that Nurse Busby begins her new rotation at the London today, but you are putting the sour in the lemons to shame." She said softly.

"I'm sorry, Nurse Crane." Patsy lowered her head.

"Just remember: Forward. Always Forward," the elder nurse commanded resolutely. And Patsy had nodded in return. She understood the message and put on a stoic smile.

She had always been good at facades.

As Patsy turned down the street way near the surgery, she saw young Tim Turner sitting on a bench. The young man looked miserable which gave Patsy enough pause to be concerned. She knew of his past medical history and had known the lad since she had arrived in Poplar.

"Young Master Turner. Are you sure that you are quite all right? I don't like that colour on you," Patsy declared as she parked her bike and sat beside him.

"It's nothing to do with my health Nurse...Patsy. I'm completely in remission, the doctor said so," he said confidently.

"That's good to hear. But still you look a bit down in the mouth. Can I help?" she offered. He was a good enough lad, and Patsy missed their times together.

He hesitated. As the redhead waited she took the opportunity to pull out a pack of cigarettes. She lit one and sighed with relief as she exhaled the first time. It was her first smoke all day.

"It's just, have you ever had feelings of love for someone that make no sense?" Tim asked awkwardly.

"Tim, does this have to do with the dance at school?" Patsy asked cradling her cigarette.

"Oh no, she wouldn't attend a school dance. And she doesn't go to my school anyway," he answered tensely.

Patsy smiled, remembering her own gauche teenage existence. She knew what it was like to feel gawky around pretty girls who thought themselves above attending a school event.

"I think my best advice would be to just tell her how you feel and see what she says. You might be pleasantly surprised." She stubbed out her spent cigarette. "And if not well then at least you'll know so that you can move on," the redhead continued.

"Easier said than done, I think," Tim sighed dramatically.

"Fortune favours the brave, I've heard it said," Patsy stood and ruffled his hair. She really did miss being around the scouts. "I must fly or Nurse Crane will have my guts for garters." She smiled as she climbed onto her bicycle.

Turning toward him, Patsy still noted his uncertainty. She couldn't help but empathise when her thoughts turned back inward. She and Delia needed to have one those difficult conversations about feelings and future plans. Patsy had avoided things long enough. It was time to take her own advice.

She sighed as she pushed her old warhorse of a bicycle up a steep incline. She was far too tired to take it on wheels so she had huffed and puffed up the hill. Maybe Delia was correct in pressuring her to give up her cigarettes after all.

Having unpacked her instruments, she weary headed out into the hallway. The redhead was resolved that she would have a long talk with her girlfriend that night. She would wait up if she must. Patsy had to settle things between them about their future. She would make sure of it.

So she was surprised to see the brunette sitting in the parlour. Her smile as she looked up from her book instantly put Patsy at ease.

"Deels" she grinned. "I'm over the moon to see you here," she said enthusiastically as her heart leapt out her chest.

She is so beautiful, Patsy thought instantly. How could she ever manage without her? The redhead broke out in a lopsided smile.

"Pats. Come here," Delia patted the sofa seat next to her.

Patsy walked over, quickly glancing over her shoulder to make sure they were alone.

"I've been meaning to speak with you," she said as Delia put away her book on a side table. Turning back toward her Patsy became captured by her lover's blue eyes. As she got lost in them, she forgot how to make letters into words which made sentences. The brunette chortled as she grasped Patsy's hand. Patsy's heart skipped for a moment in that way that made her dizzy. This woman contained so much of her heart, the redhead reminded herself.

"Pats," Delia whispered flustered.

"I know that sometimes I'm difficult," she began cautiously. "It takes me a long while to take risks…" she said haltingly.

"Pats…" Delia began squeezing her fingers assuredly.

"It's just…" Patsy began.

"Nurse Mount," she heard from across the room.

Patsy jerked her hand away reflexively. They each turned toward the sound of Doctor Turner's voice.

"Doctor Turner, I…" Delia said with a voice that seemed very far away.

Patsy reminded herself to breathe as her chest constricted.

"I'm sorry to bother you, however I need to speak with you both," he said with utter seriousness.

The women stood up and followed him into Sister Julienne's office.

"We won't be disturbed in here," he assured them as they all sat down. "I've spoken to Sister Julienne and she said that since this was a personal matter she didn't feel the need to be present," he explained as he lit a cigarette. He offered a pack to each woman who resisted a light despite their nerves.

"Don't worry, you're not facing a firing squad," Patrick Turner tried to say with a wry smile.

Looking at each woman he saw the utter fear in their eyes.

"However, this is a personal matter which is why I have you both here," He turned toward the desk where he picked up a file that was laid on the desk. Leaning against Sister Julienne's broad desk he eased into a casual position while holding the file.

"Please Dr. Turner, what is this about?" Delia Busby asked looking up.

"It came to my attention a while ago that my son was attached to one of the nurses in Nonnatus House," he started.

"Is this about Trixie...Nurse Franklin?" Delia asked.

"No," he chuckled nervously. "I thought that at first too, but when confronted he assured me that it wasn't Nurse Franklin." Dr. Turner stubbed out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. He handed the folder to the brunette nurse.

"I thought that all my son needed was a good heart to heart and he would move on, but then my wife found these photos and we decided that the issue was much more serious," he said gravely.

Nurse Mount looked as if her jaw would shatter. Her jaw muscle jutted out noticeably from how hard she was clenching it. Patrick looked back to Nurse Busby as she opened the folder and sorted through the photos with growing alarm.

"It seems that my son has been studying and spying on you, On duty and off duty," he said hesitantly. "It is quite thorough and detailed. There are notes on the back of each picture with the date that they were taken and location. It looks as if they date starting with a month ago."

"But Doctor, these pictures…" Delia said with a quivering lip.

"While they do depict both of you, it seems that they are mostly focused on Nurse Busby," he said grimly.

"So it seems," the Welsh woman said resignedly as she sorted through the photographs in the file again.

He turned away darkly. Patrick knew that the two women sharing the room with him were frightened out of their minds. While the pictures did not depict anything salacious, it was still the possibility of being surveilled that had brought fear to their eyes. Doctor Turner understood the dire consequences of what might happen to these women if a sign of affection between them was depicted and misinterpreted. His son could possibly uncover and destroy their careers. It was unfair, but this was the burden they carried.

The doctor turned back toward the nurses.

"I assure you my wife and I understand that this is an unfortunate situation. We both believe that you are excellent nurses and feel it would be highly calamitous if my son witnessed something that he would not understand. It could stain the absolutely necessary work of Nonnatus House," he finished resolutely.

"So what do you suggest we should do Doctor Turner?" Nurse Mount said angrily.

Doctor Turner could feel waves of hostility emanating from her. He met her eyes directly.

"Again, I understand that none of this is your fault but still we feel…" he said quickly.

Delia interrupted him stridently.

"I'll speak with him Doctor Turner. As soon as I can," she said firmly.

"Thank you, Nurse Busby. Please let him down gently." He smiled genuinely.

"I'll try my best Doctor Turner," Delia nodded as everyone rose with the natural feeling that this tense filled meeting had concluded.

Doctor Turner stubbed out another cigarette. As he turned back around toward the female couple he saw that Nurse Mount had silently fled.

"Excuse me Doctor Turner," Nurse Busby called over her shoulder as she exited after her.

To Be Continued...