Despite Delia's best efforts, she was unable to visit Gwen Robinson in hospital before her and Patsy's trip to Wales. Doctor Turner had passed on a reassuring message however, that her patient was doing well and would be going home within the next week. This helped ease a little of the Welshwoman's anxieties as she still felt partly responsible for not staying with Gwen for longer that day. She supposed that was the thing about district and community based nursing, as opposed to hospital nursing. You couldn't help but get involved. It was this closeness an ability to follow through that drew Delia to the concept in the first place. But she was still learning to walk the fine line between being a professional nurse and friend.
Worries of Gwen still plagued her mind, even as her and Patsy boarded the train to Swansea on a rainy Monday afternoon. Delia was so lost in her thoughts, that she completely forgot to mind her way through the crowds at Paddington Station and bumped into a man hurrying in the opposite direction.
She yelped with the sudden pain that radiated through her shoulder.
"Deels!" Patsy was by her side in a flash.
"M'alright." Delia muttered darkly, rubbing her shoulder and glaring at the man.
Patsy insisted on shielding her injured side for the rest of their walk to their platform.
Once seated on the train, they began to both relax. Patsy had booked them tickets in the first class carriage, much to Delia's delight. She'd never travelled in first class before and the whole experience was quite something to behold; Everything from the leather seats to the little embroidered napkins and lace tablecloth. Patsy just sat back and basked in her girlfriend's wide eyed wonder.
An hour into the ride and afternoon tea was served on silver platters. It consisted of a (rather small) carton of milk, a variety of herbal and british teas as well as some sort of salmon hors d'oeuvres. Delia nearly asked the waiter to bring more milk but Patsy took one for the team and had her tea black, allowing the Welshwoman full rein on the milk jug. After polishing off her tea, Delia ate the oat biscuit but surreptitiously discarded the salmon.
Before the waiter came to collect their empty plates and mugs, Patsy leaned over and whispered cheekily, "are you going to eat that?"
Delia blushed and handed Patsy her napkin under the table which hid the offending morsel.
Soon the countryside welcomed them and all remnants of the CIty faded away. Smoke stacks turned to sheep and concrete to grass as they left behind the smog of London. Delia was buzzing from excitement. She had not been home since her accident and now she was returning on much more favourable terms. And of course, with Patsy. She had long dreamed of the day she'd get to introduce the taller nurse to her hometown. But as the rolling hills engulfed them a cold shiver of doubt crept unbidden into her mind.
Was it insensitive of her to show Patsy her happy childhood, especially when the redhead had suffered so much in her own? But the trip had been Patsy's idea hadn't it, if she didn't want to go she wouldn't have offered. Perhaps she should keep the sentimentality and mushy stuff to a minimum, just in case. There was no reason they couldn't still have a lovely holiday together.
Patsy's foot nudged hers and Delia looked up, smiling away her anxieties.
Finally, after a whole afternoon of travelling, a conductor in a smartly pressed uniform informed them the next stop was Swansea and would they like some help with their bags.
Delia was starting to tire already. She caught a reflection of herself in the window as the light was fading and noted her pale, drawn skin. Travelling was exhausting, even when fit and well. She was looking forward to curling up with Patsy and a nice warm duvet tonight.
They disembarked the train and headed for the local bus station. Patsy was now entirely at the mercy of Delia's local knowledge. Fortunately the brunette knew exactly what bus would take them to Tenby.
By the time the bus arrived, the sun was setting, casting a glorious orange glow across the little houses of Swansea. They hauled their luggage onto the small single decker bus and paid the fare. It was decidedly much more uncomfortable than the first class train ride had been and every time the bus and its poor suspension hit a pothole in the road, Delia winced. Patsy was looking increasingly concerned for the poor Welshwoman and kept asking if she wanted to get off.
"I can always get us a taxi." She offered.
Delia shook her head. "I'm okay. Besides, we're nearly there."
Patsy looked out the window and saw nothing but darkness. "How on earth can you tell?"
Delia tapped the side of her nose knowingly. "By mathematically calculating the density of sheep numbers of course."
She burst out laughing at Patsy's bewildered gaze. Four pairs of eyes were suddenly on a swivel, staring at her. All belonging to little old women who were heading home for the night, packed to the gunnels with grocery shopping.
"Here we are!" Delia almost squealed.
Patsy caught a glimpse of a sign that read 'Tenby' before Delia pulled the cord and sounded the bell. The bus drew to a halt and they heaved their luggage off. It pulled away, leaving the couple in darkness, surrounded by the quiet mooing of nearby cattle.
They stood for a moment, breathing in the fresh, countryside air. And the quiet. Oh the quiet.
Wordlessly Patsy took Delia's hand and nodded in the direction of streetlamps.
It took another hour of walking before they finally located the cottage that Patsy had rented. The redhead fumbled around in the dark, trying to find the key that had been left for them. Eventually she upended a flowerpot and spotted it buried in the soil next to a large laburnum bush.
Unlocking the front door, the two weary travellers fell over the threshold. Delia flicked on a lightswitch and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.
The cottage was beautiful. It was, in a word, quaint. The wallpaper was flowery, the armchairs plush and comfortable looking and the kitchenette off the to the side looked like something straight out of a Housewife magazine. Patsy darted backwards and forwards, ferrying all their luggage upstairs while Delia tried to soak everything in. It was a lot nicer than her parent's house, that was for sure, but it did scream 'holiday guest house'. A few little personal touches of the owner were scattered around here and there. Some ornaments dotted the mantelpiece, mainly gaudy sheepdogs and chubby looking cherubs. Just as Delia snapped out of her daze and realise she should probably be helping unpack, Patsy wrapped a pair of warm arms around her and kissed her neck gently.
"Dinner then bed?" she whispered. "The lady who owns the cottage left us a note saying there's some basic supplies in the cupboard."
"That sounds perfect." Delia replied, turning her head and capturing Patsy's lips with her own.
It felt utterly glorious to kiss without worrying about who was watching. Almost as glorious as it felt to be kissing in a house with a kitchenette and a wood stove - the domesticity of the situation they were in was making Delia feel so much warmth inside. It was their house, even if it was for just a week. She felt herself relax into the kiss as a wave of tiredness suddenly swept over her. She broke apart, grumbling a little.
"What's wrong?" Patsy nuzzled her nose.
"I really want to make the most of our time alone tonight," Delia stared deep into those ocean blues, "but... I'm quite tired."
Patsy chuckled. "I'm tired too. Travelling is awfully taxing," she pecked Delia lightly on the nose, "I vote we go upstairs and get into our pyjamas, then I'll make us some jam on toast and we can fall asleep together. How does that sound?"
"Perfect." Delia buried her head into the crook of Patsy's neck. "I would quite like to test out this famous shower," she yawned loudly, "maybe tomorrow..."
"Go upstairs, I'll join you with toast in a bit."
Delia did as she was told and trooped up the little rickety staircase. The master bedroom was quite large considering how small the cottage was. There was a lovely double bed, freshly made with clean white linen. Delia just wanted to flop onto it but she restrained. Patsy had already packed away all their luggage neatly into the dresser and wardrobe. She'd even placed the book Delia was currently reading on the left nightstand, bookmark still intact.
It all just felt so natural and wonderful to be alone with Patsy in a house. Certainly, the hotel room they'd rented overnight at Christmas had been quite the experience (one Delia was unlikely to forget in a hurry) but this felt even more intimate.
She shrugged off her outdoor coat, letting it fall on a chair and perched on the edge of the double bed. The mattress was doing its best to swallow her up and she was trying her utmost not to yield to the temptation. Patsy was right, they needed some dinner before going to bed.
The smell of toast wafted up the stairs, closely followed by a beautiful redhead carrying a tray in her hands.
"Dinner in bed?" she winked.
"Not toast!" Delia said in mock horror, "think of all the crumbs in the bedsheets."
"Oh gosh, Busby, you're right. We can't have that."
Patsy repositioned Delia's coat on the back of the door, alongside her own, before moving the two chairs in the room together and propping the tray on the end of the bed.
They ate their small dinner carefully, managing to spare the bed from any unwanted crumb visitors. Delia managed to polish off the toast with surprising speed. As soon as she'd drunk her tea though, her eyes felt heavy again and she tried to suppress a huge yawn. Patsy, ever astute, put the tray down and ensured Delia had taken her painkillers before helping her into her pyjamas.
The pyjamas felt lovely and soft against Delia's skin, a stark and more than welcome contrast to her travel clothes. Finally she allowed herself to flop backwards onto the double bed and be engulfed by the mattress. Just the right amount of bounce, she noted, not too firm, but firm enough to feel like she was being supported. Perfect. Her eyes were closed, but she felt the shift next to her as Patsy joined her. The remaining light patterns on her eyelids disappeared as the redhead turned off the lamp. A long arm snaked its way around her waist and held on tightly. Delia sighed in contentment as their feet tangled together, Patsy's foot running up and down her calf.
They'd made it. They were in Wales!
The pitter patter of rain on the window woke Delia up the following morning. She rolled onto her back and much to her utter delight, Patsy was still in bed with her. It was a sight she'd only ever witnessed twice before, once in their old flat and once at the hotel. Taking a few moments, she observed the redhead sleeping. Her chest rising and falling softly. There was no crease in her brow or jerkiness about her movements. She seemed completely peaceful and calm. Whatever demons plagued her dreams had not come trespassing that night it seemed.
Patsy stirred, her eyelids flickered open to be met with Delia staring, unabashed.
"Were you watching me sleep?"
Delia's heart clenched in her chest. Patsy's husky morning voice was an absolute hidden delight.
"Maybe." Delia reached out her good arm and stroked the tousled copper hair.
Patsy's fish-hook smile made its morning debut.
"I wish we could wake up like this every day." Delia admitted.
The smile faded a little. "I'm the same." Patsy whispered.
The moment was interrupted by a rather large gust of wind and rain hitting the window pane. Patsy turned and looked towards the source of the noise.
"April showers, indeed. I thought Wales was supposed to be sunny?"
"It is, most of the time!" Delia defended.
Patsy chuckled. "Well, if it means we have to have a day indoors, I'm sure we'll make the best of a dire situation."
"I think this situation is far from dire," Delia indicated their position.
Patsy smiled, "I take it back."
Delia tried to sit up a little, which proved rather difficult with one arm. 'And if I hadn't broken my bloody shoulder, this would've been perfect,' she thought. With a little more force than was completely necessary she shoved again, trying to rest her back against the headboard. There was far too much frustration in her movement however, and the only result was a painful twinge that travelled down her right arm.
"Oww..."
Patsy propped herself up (with much more ease) and attempted to support the brunette.
"I really don't want to be 'Nurse Mount' this holiday, Deels, at least not if I can help it. But your poor shoulder went through the wars a bit yesterday. Is it alright if I take a quick look at it?" she asked softly.
Delia sighed. She didn't want to spoil this perfect moment of waking up next to Patsy with a clinical exam, but the taller woman was right, her shoulder had taken a bit of a battering.
"Alright. On one condition though."
Patsy raised her eyebrow in question.
"I get to use that shower afterwards."
Patsy's fish-hook smile returned to center stage for an encore.
Satisfied Delia's shoulder was still (mostly) intact and no further damage had been done, Patsy returned the limb to its owner. A bright purple bruise had began to form, the likes of which Phyllis would refer to as 'a real bobby-dazzler'. Delia caught a glimpse of it in the mirror as she shrugged her pyjama sleeve back on. At least it would fade, she thought grimly, reminded of Patsy's not so fortunate souvenirs of her childhood horrors.
With Delia being supported with one arm and a bunch of soft towels in the other, Patsy led them both in the hunt for the infamous shower. They came across two broom cupboards and a spare bedroom but at last they located it. The bathroom was much nicer than the stand alone toilet under the stairs they'd seen earlier. It was rather large, consisting of bright polished white tiles and a warm fluffy bath mat. There was a very generous sized modern walk in shower, the likes of which Delia had never seen before.
"Oh wow," Delia gaped, "you weren't exaggerating."
Patsy smiled and set the towels aside carefully. "There should be enough hot water for quarter of an hour, it said in the note that was left downstairs. Do you want me to help you out of your pyjamas?"
Delia turned, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "What about you?"
"Oh, I'll just wait and have one this evening, boiler should've reheated by then."
Delia rolled her eyes, Patsy could be slow on the uptake sometimes.
"What?"
"It would save water if we... you know." Delia nodded towards the shower.
Patsy's mouth opened in surprise. "Oh." She blushed a deep shade of crimson. "Yes. I suppose it would."
"So in the interests of water conservation...?" Delia sideled closer.
'I highly doubt Wales has a water shortage." Patsy looked out the window to the rain lashing down outside.
"Patience Mount, stop killing the mood." Delia scorned playfully.
"There was a mood?" Patsy grinned and pulled the brunette towards her. "In that case, let me get your pyjamas for you, madam."
The bathroom was quite cold, Delia soon discovered, as her newly exposed skin erupted in little goose pimples. Patsy was focusing on removing Delia's pyjamas without causing any discomfort. Finally she stood back and drank the petite Welshwoman in. Delia watched Patsy's eyes roam around her body, from her toes, pausing a moment in two particular places, before returning to her eyes.
"You really are so beautiful." Patsy breathed huskily.
Delia felt a delightful tug between her legs. "Even with my purple shoulder?" she ventured.
Patsy nodded. "If anyone asks, I shall say you saved a damsel in distress from a burning building."
"Oh, and who might that damsel be?" Delia winked.
"Me." Patsy drew in closer still, running a hand through Delia's hair. "You saved me Deels." she whispered softly.
Delia couldn't help herself, even if she tried. Before either knew was happening, Delia was kissing Patsy deeply, trying to pour as much love as she could into each contact their lips made.
"One moment..." Patsy gasped between kisses.
Delia reluctantly pulled back.
Patsy made quick work of her own pyjamas, letting the blue striped flannel fall to the floor with a soft flump. Delia's eyes darted around quite happily, drinking in the newly revealed curves in front of her. However, she retained the self control not to reach out, just yet anyway.
Patsy fumbled for the shower controls, turning on the water. The boiler groaned and it spluttered into life, a high pressure stream of warm water splattering loudly on the floor tiles. She opened the curtain wider and stood back, offering a hand.
"After you, my dear."
Delia grinned. "Why thank you Patience, how kind."
Taking Patsy's hand, she stepped into the walk in cubicle and allowed the hot water to cascade over her exposed skin. It was utterly glorious. She closed her eyes, feeling the dirt and grime of travel wash away down the plug hole. The pain in her shoulder instantly eased from the warmth. Nonnatus house had many things going for it, but a shower like this was not one of them. Delia was about to suggest when they moved into a new flat, it should have one similar to this, but the thought never made it out of her mouth.
Patsy had stepped inside as well, closing the curtain behind her. The bright opaque white of the curtain diffused the daylight in such a way that Delia's next breath caught in her throat. Pasty looked absolutely stunning, her hair ever so slightly damp from the splashback, expression dark and stormy. The brunette's eyes travelled downwards, past perfectly formed collar bones to the swell of Patsy's breasts. Perhaps it was the temperature of the room, but the light pink tips of her nipples were already standing to attention. Before she could touch where she most desperately wanted to, Patsy took her hands in her own.
"Do you want me to wash you?" she whispered.
Delia nodded, all power of speech having departed long ago, along with the rush of blood to her groin.
Patsy lathered a bar of soap in her hands. "Turn around," she instructed.
Delia obeyed and was instantly rewarded by gentle, yet firm hands running over her back. Their pressure eased when they met her bruised shoulder, softly caressing the sensitive skin before moving on towards areas still to be covered. Soon, Delia's whole back was covered in lavender smelling soapy bubbles. Patsy's hands became more daring, reaching lower and running over Delia's toned buttocks. The smaller woman felt her knees tremble and bit her lip to try and stop any sound escaping.
Then, she realised suddenly, she didn't have to be quiet. There was absolutely nothing or nobody stopping her from making as much noise as she wanted. Patsy's hand squeezed slightly and Delia let out a contented sigh.
A pair of warm lips met her neck and a low voice muttered in her ear, "You have no idea how much I wish we could do this every morning."
Delia smiled to herself. Oh she had a pretty good idea.
Patsy's hands were gently directing her back to face the other way and she obliged, allowing the water to wash away the soap on her back. Now she was face to face with the redhead again she noticed Patsy's eyes appeared to be even darker than before. Repeating the same process, she gathered soap suds in her hands and began working her way down Delia's front. Delia fought the urge to close her eyes and instead watched the taller woman with interest. Patsy's brow was furrowed in concentration as she gently lathered Delia's shoulders and collar bones with the soap. It was achingly gentle, Patsy knew exactly how much pressure to apply to not cause even the slightest bit of discomfort.
Her eyes flicked up again briefly, seeking consent. Delia smiled, wanting her desperately to continue this exquisite torture. Instead Patsy leaned in and kissed her softly. Their tongues swirled together in a beautiful dance as the shower water cascaded over their heads. It felt like kissing in the rain, but a warm and pleasant rain. Patsy's breasts pressed into Delia's and she felt a surge of heat again, pulling at her. She grunted into the kiss, attempting to deepen it further, but Patsy had other ideas. Breaking apart, the redhead turned Delia around again, this time pressing her breasts to the smaller woman's back and supporting her safely under her injured arm.
Delia's eyes finally flickered shut as all her nerve endings enjoyed the wondrous sensations happening around them. Patsy's soapy hands were back on her now, palming her breasts, taking a handful and squeezing gently. Delia sighed again, louder this time. She let out a little gasp as the redhead's thumb and forefinger found an already hard peak and rolled it between them. The soap suds made skin slip and slide easier, heightening each growing sensation.
Again, Patsy's lips found Delia's neck, but this time she was a lot less gentle. The smaller woman moaned quietly as she felt Patsy suck hard at her pulse point, before teeth grazed her skin and eventually light feathery breath eased the sting. It felt utterly devine and Delia thought she might fall if it hadn't been for the redhead supporting most of her weight. Patsy was breathing heavily, her hand dipping into the shower water and rinsing off the soap from Delia's torso. Delia gasped as fingers grazed her nipples once again. She'd never felt more turned on in her entire life.
But, Patsy it seemed, was more than content lazily reacquainting herself with her girlfriend's body, unwilling to push further just yet. Delia groaned a little as her frustrations bubbled to the surface. She felt her heart hammering in her chest and she was sure Patsy could feel it too, they were so close together.
"Deels?" Patsy whimpered.
Delia was happy to hear the redhead sounded very much as flustered as she herself felt.
"Mhm?"
"Is this alright?"
Delia nodded, resisting the urge to grab Patsy's wrist and direct it to where it was very much needed. She ached for release but at the same time was very much enjoying the languid, slow pace of exploration.
"I don't want to hurt you - your shoulder..."
"Shh. It's okay, I'm fine," Delia wheezed. "Keep going."
Patsy's lips closed on that same pulse point on her neck again and Delia whimpered loudly, her legs parting - inviting Patsy closer. She heard the redhead take a deep breath and then a hand snaked down past her breasts, over her abdomen and lower still. The brunette was shivering, not from the cold, but from the desire. Patsy's hand stroked the mound of curly hair at the apex of the brunette's legs. She knew Patsy must been able to feel heat radiating from her core.
Delia gasped loudly as she finally she felt the gentle probing of Patsy's fingers beginning to explore her. The brunette felt her knees buckle, threatening to send her off balance. Patsy adjusted her grip with her arm, ensuring the smaller woman was safely secure. Her other hand dipped into Delia's warm folds again, stroking along her length gently.
"Oh my god, Deels." she gasped in awe, "You're really wet."
Delia didn't even blush. She knew it wasn't just the shower that was the cause of the pool of moisture gathering down below.
"Mhmm..." It's your fault, she thought.
Patsy explored further, her fingers stroking the wet folds with a maddenly light pressure. Delia bit her lip, her eyes tight shut. She was so ready, she needed... she needed more. As if she heard the silent plea, Patsy stroked upwards and circled the swollen nub once. Delia's hips bucked against the redhead's hand and she felt Patsy take a sharp intake breath as hers subconsciously followed suit, bumping into Delia's back. They both groaned quietly at the brief contact. A growing ache was building to a pressure so high Delia was unsure she could take it much longer. She wanted to crawl inside Patsy's skin, wanted her with more passion than she'd ever wanted anything before.
Then Patsy's fingers drifted lower, teasing at Delia's entrance, dipping in ever so slightly before pulling out and stroking up again. Again, Delia let out a tiny gasp. The pace was driving her mad. 'Teasing Pats' was making an appearance and it quite frankly wasn't fair.
"Fuck! Patsy... please!" Delia managed to pant.
She sensed, rather than felt the smile tug at the corner of the redhead's mouth at that exclamation. The Welshwoman never usually swore in English. Delia's muscles contracted almost painfully, the ache growing to an almost unbearable level.
"Ever so polite, Busby," Patsy sighed, enjoying one last gentle stroke before finally, oh so finally, sliding two fingers deep inside.
Delia moaned, louder than she had intended - the sound echoing off the tiles of the bathroom. Patsy stayed still for a moment, allowing the brunette to adjust to the sensation of her fingers. The Welshwoman's walls clamped down over Patsy's digits, encasing them in a wonderful warmth that was uniquely hers. Delia took a few shuddering breaths, trying to regain a sense of equilibrium. The bathroom was just coming back into focus when Patsy moved, curling the tips of her fingers ever so slightly. It was a tiny motion but Delia cried out nonetheless. Seemingly satisfied with the reaction she'd provoked, Patsy slipped her fingers out, coated them with more moisture and then slid back in again.
"Ohh..." Delia groaned, as Patsy began to set a delightfully slow rhythm.
"Is this alright?" Patsy asked huskily, into her right ear.
"Mhmm... yes." Delia replied, "Duw, Pats, mae eich bysedd yn teimlo mor dda."
Using her good arm, Delia braced herself against the wall as she felt her knees start to buckle again. Patsy felt the shift and increased her pace, allowing the heel of her hand to put pressure exactly where Delia needed it. It did the trick. Delia felt a familiar pressure begin to build inside her at an almost alarming rate. In just a few moments she was grabbing at Patsy's hand, trying to increase its speed.
"Oh, faster, Pats," she moaned.
Patsy obeyed, her fingers pumping quicker as the woman in front of her began to fall apart. Sensing she was close, Patsy curled her digits, searching for the small patch of rough skin, the spot that would bring the most pleasure. She found it easily and began a gentle tugging motion. Delia's eyes rolled back into her head and she keened loudly.
"Ahh! Anoddach, cariad! Os gwelwch yn dda- " Her muscles tightened, everything just felt like it was going to explode. Delia's breath came in short and shorter pants as she climbed impossibly higher.
And then, unable to hold on any longer she hit the peak. With a final cry of her lover's name, Delia felt her entire body contract, her legs jerked and muscles clamped down rhythmically over Patsy's buried fingers. Ecstasy flooded through her nerve endings and blood thundered in her head as she shook - safely held by the redhead.
For a moment she couldn't hear anything - sounds were muffled and it felt as though she were floating. She was vaguely aware of Patsy's fingers leaving her. Water splashing over her exposed skin, sending tiny aftershocks through her nerve endings. Then the water stopped. She was being lead backwards, into a brighter light. Blinking, the room came back into focus and with it, Patsy's smiling face.
"Wow." Delia grinned goofily.
She felt giddy, drunk almost. Patsy had turned off the shower and was now holding out a large soft towel. The brunette allowed herself to be wrapped up in it tightly, the occasional pulse of pleasure hitting her still recovering body.
Patsy dried her gently, taking care to lovingly caress her with the towel, each movement making Delia sigh and relax more and more until she felt like she might turn into jelly.
"We really need to get one of those." Delia giggled shakily, nodding towards the shower.
"I'll say." Patsy winked cheekily. "I'd do anything to see that every morning."
"You forget we're here a week, Patience. I'm sure this shower will see a lot more use before we leave." Delia replied saucily before darting for the exit.
Patsy blushed and despite her best aim, was unable to hit Delia with a wet flannel as she pranced happily from the bathroom, still clad in her towel and dripping all over the floor.