A/N: I know this update was long in coming, but November turned into a bit of a nightmare. Big Thanks to Steff for her magical editing skills. I highly suggest checking out her current fic Convergence-it's quite spiffy. Leaving feedback helps us writers out immensely, so please take a moment and do so.

Shelagh Turner had several things on her mind.

Sitting in the parlour, she wondered when her step-son would ever leave his room. The last few days had seen him go straight to his room the moment he got home from school. Only emerging for food or the loo, Shelagh could only get muttered utterances out of him.

She was utterly fixated by something that her step-son had said the other night. When he had implied that she and Miss Busby were not that far apart it had given her pause for thought. For a long while she had considered herself separate from the young nurses of Nonnatus House. As a young nun she had always been surrounded by older voices who mentored her in how she could feel closer to Him. She was very grateful for what she had learned from Sister Julienne and Evangelina, even though she had left her calling to marry Patrick.

Still, she had not expected to find herself finding anything in common with Miss Busby at all. It had not come to her attention immediately, but Shelagh Turner was not blind. Having served in Poplar for several years she knew that there were men who preferred sex with only other men. This was clearly against God's plan, in her mind, since it could only be meant for pleasure. Men were arrested for indecency in Poplar for such activities which validated her beliefs.

Shelagh had no idea how to consider women who conducted such sexual activity. She did not like the idea of condemning any woman for following her own heart. By leaving the order and marrying Patrick, she had done the same. She had to believe that Miss Mount and Miss Busby were the same because she believed that they were good women who cared for their patients. Their love for each other made them different from the norm but it didn't change their exemplary skills and endless compassion.

However, Shelagh found herself continually snagged on one aspect: How had she and Miss Busby grown up in similar environments and still end up so different in their own personal preference? Marriage was between a husband and wife, otherwise you were just engaged in sinful activities. It could not be all that different for a girl that had grown up in the farm country of Wales. So it begged the question of why would Miss Busby choose such sinful behavior. Or was it a case of genetic disposition? Shelagh was unsure of what it all meant, however she hoped that it wouldn't mean any future awkwardness between herself and the young nurse.

As she sat churning these thoughts in her head Patrick entered with a wry smile.

"I really wonder how many times you can listen to one record before even the record player decides it can't play anymore," Patrick lamented.

"I happen to like Stevie Wonder so I don't mind," Shelagh demurred. "Will you please just tell him that he's not grounded anymore? I think having his heart broken was lesson enough," she asked her husband.

"We have to stand firm or he won't take us seriously," Patrick refused to yield.

Shelagh did not like to disagree with her husband regarding his discipline of Timothy, however she did audibly sigh at his stubbornness. As they sat in silence a new record came on blasting "Walk Like A Man" throughout the house.

Patrick groaned and laid down his medical journal.

"Fine. You win. I'll free him from captivity, however only so that he can join me this afternoon," he capitulated.

"To do what dear? I thought you had the afternoon off," Shelagh asked.

"He can help me and Fred make some repairs at Nonnatus," Patrick declared.

"Patrick, I don't really think that's a good idea," Shelagh replied with a worried look.

"Why not?" he queried.

"Don't you think that's rubbing his nose in it? Suppose that she's there. It would make it all terribly awkward," she explained.

Getting up from the parlour she headed to the kitchen to put on the kettle. Patrick followed her in and leaned on the counter watching his wife as she grabbed she grabbed the caddy and spooned tea into the teapot before retrieving some cups.

"That's all over and done with dear. I believe Nurse Busby gave him a stern talking to and he has pledged to me that he has a new plan," Patrick reassured her.

Patrick had checked in with his son the next day when he had come home from the surgery. He could clearly see that Timothy was not his usual self. It wasn't easy to see him broken-hearted, however he wasn't interested in molly-coddling him either.

"All right dear, but will you please keep track of him? I don't like the idea of this escalating any further. If Sister Julienne ends up becoming involved…" she fretted.

Patrick leaned in and took her hand.

"Dear, Sister Julienne is wisely keeping her distance. And really I think Miss Busby has the ability of handling anything that is thrown at her," he reassured.

"I certainly hope so," Shelagh replied.

During the day, Trixie had slipped into the brunette nurse's room. Delia looked a bit surprised as she looked up from her novel as the blonde closed the door behind her. It was unusual to gain a visit to her room from anyone other than Patsy. Especially from Trixie whom she knew but wasn't close with in the same way as her girlfriend.

"Trixie, what brings you here? Patsy's not here, she's on district rounds," Delia said gesturing around the otherwise empty box room.

"No, sweetie, I'm not looking for Patsy. I'd like to talk to you, if you have a moment." She moved to sit on the bed. Delia made room for her and placed her novel on the night stand. She grasped her cardigan nervously.

"What about?" she asked.

Trixie had to take a moment to consider how to phrase her thoughts. Words had to be carefully chosen when talking about certain relationships. The blonde nurse was aware of the tricky rope on which she was trying to balance.

"I know what it's like to put on a show. I believe that Patsy does too. It's why we get on so well. A mutual agreement to put on a bright face and crack on," she smiled broadly in a way that she'd done a million times.

"It's true that sometimes I get wrapped up in my own little troubles, I know that Patsy has not been happy for some time," she paused gathering up her strength. "And I know that her happiness is intertwined with yours" she arched her eyebrow toward the younger nurse. Delia sat motionless, but Trixie could see a flurry of activity beneath the surface.

"As a nurse I'm trained to help, so how can I help?" Trixie asked reaching out her hand toward Delia's which rested on the bedspread.

The Welsh woman paused for a moment considering her response.

"You are a good friend. Pats is lucky to have you," she said assuredly. Looking downward, Delia shook her head.

"I think that I am the cause of her distress," she sighed. "Have you ever felt as if you were so close to having everything that you had every wanted?" she asked.

Trixie nodded.

"Of course sweetie," she answered.

"She is so afraid of losing happiness that she has lost the will to risk grasping it," Delia smiled. "But I'm not and I fought like hell to get here. I can't help it. I want it all," she concluded. "Do you understand?" she concluded.

"Yes I do," Trixie said slightly choked up. "So, how can I help my friends?" she asked earnestly.

"I don't know. It just feels as if this business with the Turners has rattled us both," Delia sighed. "It's dredged up an urgent fear which has me on edge."

Trixie listened to Delia outline what had happened between her and Timothy Turner. While she already knew half the story from Patsy, she had not heard the new developments. Delia seemed unsure, fearing that her warning needed reinforcing with the young man. And she feared that Patsy's protectiveness would lead to dire consequences.

"Perhaps a film might be able to ease the tension? We can go see something frivolous and superficial," Trixie offered.

"A film? You don't need to twist my arm," Delia smiled.

"I'll arrange it," Trixie nodded with certainty.

A day later, the blonde nurse was parking her bike having done some errands around Poplar. Trixie had long found all the hiding places at Nonnatus. It had never been her plan to be living with a group of nuns as she neared the age of thirty. Yet, she loved being a part of such a community of women doing good works in a community that needed it. It provided her with a purpose that fulfilled her. And often saved her from her own worst tendencies.

Still, even she needed some solitude and a break from all the wimples. Grabbing a quick cigarette while off duty out by the garden shed, she allowed herself some time to breathe. She was quite put out when a heavy clatter disturbed the one moment of quiet that she had been allowed all day.

"What is that clatter?" she demanded as she approached the young man who seemed to be the source of it all.

Of all people she was flummoxed to come upon Timothy Turner searching frantically around the Nonnatus shed. He froze while holding in one hand a bird cage and in the other a bike tyre. Despite herself, Trixie let out a giggle at such a sight.

"So? Go on. I haven't got all day," she demanded.

"I was trying to find some roof tiles that Fred said are back here," he explained.

"No luck sweetie?" She giggled and took a drag off her cigarette. He nodded in reply and ditched the junk that he had been holding into an already growing pile.

Tim looked back at the pile considering himself dismissed by Trixie's silence. Having finished her cigarette, Trixie dropped it to the ground to stub it out. Turning to exit the shed, Trixie stopped. She knew that she should not meddle, but she couldn't help but speak.

"Tim," she waited for him to turn around. "I shouldn't do this. But I need to tell you," she paused dramatically. "Nurse Mount might be arriving here at anytime. And she's not too keen on you at the moment."

"Why?" he gulped.

"I think you know why sweetie," she smiled. "She and Nurse Busby are very close friends. Joined at the hip even. She's not pleased with being surveilled either, so I'd make yourself scarce," she warned.

She saw his face drop and took pity on him.

"You really didn't think that Nurse Mount wouldn't be perturbed that you had been following around her best friend with a camera? Not to mention taking pictures of her as well? Tim, it is unseemly," she stated. "And saying that it was because you had a crush doesn't redeem you."

"I wasn't thinking straight," he said into the floor.

Trixie leaned down to the teenage boy's level and lifted his chin to meet his eyes head on.

"Tim, why do you think they call it a crush? Because that is how you feel when the other doesn't feel the same way," she said softly. "And Delia Busby will never feel the same way."

"Is she really seeing someone else?" he asked in a small voice.

"Sweetie she is taken and very lucky to find someone so devoted." She raised herself up. Heading out the door she looked over her shoulder.

"And Tim," she looked him up and down. "You're never going to get any girl if you look so old hat. Try a change with your hair," she smirked as she exited.

Given her charge, Trixie had made film night happen that weekend.

She had managed to get Sister Julienne to work the rota so that at least herself, Barbara, and Patsy had the night off. It had required some sacrifice during the week ahead. Trixie had insisted that the nurses needed a break after a great many difficult births. Sister Julienne had capitulated and it seemed that an evening at the cinema was now in the works.

She knew that it wouldn't take much to get Barbara to agree. Just a simpering look and the brunette fell over like a tipped domino. And once Delia was in, then Patsy's inclusion was a foregone conclusion.

They had gone to see an Elvis feature. It was unremarkable and forgotten quickly.

However it had been an evening that Patsy and Delia had dreadfully needed. Giggling at the silly antics, Patsy felt her heart lighten. Judgemental eye rolls were more fun when one had someone to share them with and it didn't stop when they arrived back at Nonnatus.

Lying beside each other in Delia's bed, they had tangled up in each other although they were still fully clothed. A teasing look in her eye, Patsy smirked as she stroked her girlfriend's cheek. She found it hard to control her need to feel her girlfriend everywhere. Her lips wanted to feel the brunette's skin. A sigh escaped her lips.

"You are so beautiful tonight," she whispered as her hands drifted to her girlfriend's waist.

"Such flattery, Patience Mount," the brunette purred. "If you think that such talk will make up for the fact that you made me sit through an Elvis film than you are mistaken," she grinned.

"Deels, it wasn't my choice. Trixie was in charge of the film," Patsy protested.

"Do you think that I should wear bikinis like those girls in Acapulco?" Delia asked in a low voice.

"Deels!" she laughed as a red blush creeped across her cheeks.

Delia leaned in closer as she whispered in Patsy's ear.

"You seem to be getting a little hot under the collar Nurse Mount," Delia laughed as her fingers trailed up to unbutton her girlfriend's shirt. Patsy shooed away her wandering fingers.

"Not tonight darling. There's no time for such cavorting," Patsy warned.

Delia could only pout.

"Fine. I'll just have to keep myself warm tonight then," she smirked. "But thank you Pats, despite the film being dreadful it was good to get out."

"Speaking of getting out, when do you think that you will next be free to go out?" Patsy asked with a lopsided smile.

Delia huffed and laid her head back working through the rota in her mind.

"I'll next be free on Wednesday provided there is no catastrophe, then I'm all yours," she offered. "Why what are you planning in that gorgeous head of yours?" she whispered into her girlfriend's ear.

"It's been awhile since we've been to the Gates. I think we're long overdue," Patsy grinned.

"Pats! If you're teasing me…" the Welsh brunette rolled herself on top of her girlfriend trapping her with her thighs on each side.

"Deels!" she said breathlessly but with a hint of lust in her eyes. Despite her protestations her will was weak in the midst of such contact.

Delia leaned back as she straddled Patsy's lap.

"You know it's too bad that I can't show you how pleased you've made me," the brunette said with a hint of mischief.

"Trixie's waiting down the hall to talk all about Acapulco, so it'll have to wait," Patsy protested.

"Fine," Delia huffed. She lifted herself off Patsy and settled in again beside her. Another put upon pout came over Delia's features. "Gateways on Wednesday it is then. Go on," she shooed Patsy away with a playful smile on her lips.

Patsy put on a look of mock outrage as she got up and straightened her clothes.

"If I can't have you now, then I'll just have to settle for my own fantasies," Delia smiled. "And I can assure you, there's no Elvis Presley involved."

TBC...