Sorry this has been so long coming, but I hope it's worth the wait!

It was with a shock that Shelagh woke up. In her mind she had been back in her old bed, back in Nonnatus House. The bed was narrow, the sheets tightly stretched across and stiffly starched. Her heart was aching, as ever, and she had felt alone. It had seemed so real that for a few moments she could do nothing but breathe deeply and compose herself. Worst had been the mirror she could see from the bed. However deeply she stared into it there was something shuttered off in her reflection, something she could not make out. Through all those hours of searching she had worn the carpet in front of it thin, but no matter how hard she looked something was obscured. Only when she took off her wimple was there any relief from the heartache.

But as the feeling of anguish receded another, even more powerful one took its place. Where are my babies? she thought, at first contemplatively, then suddenly, with a jolt of fear animalistic in its intensity. She sat up, slight pain coursing through her as she did so, and looked around the room. The bassinet sat by the bed certainly, but there were no babies within it and no blankets. Wincing, she carefully slid out of bed and walked across the room. Leaning on the banister for support, she made it downstairs slowly. Something prevented her from calling out to Patrick, and she was glad of it when she reached the door to the living room. Looking past it she saw Patrick sitting on the sofa holding one of the twins with more care than she had thought possible. And, sitting next to him and mimicking his gestures was Timothy, also holding a twin. He looked up at the movement, and beamed at her, moving to stand up before he remembered the baby and sat down again.

"Mum!" he cried, and Patrick whipped his head round.

"How are you darling?" he asked, standing up with more grace than his son and walking over.

"I feel fine - a little pain but nothing extraordinary. How are they?" she asked.

"Wonderful, like their mother. Here." he said, and handed her the baby. She could see now the pink ribbon that edged the blanket - but more than that, she could see her daughter's face. Her eyes were wide open and she looked around with bright eyes. Her nose had a familiar look to it she recognised from the man in front of her, and for a few seconds she was choked with emotion.

"She's beautiful." Shelagh finally whispered, still staring.

Timothy stood up and walked over.

"How do you like your brother?" Patrick asked, leaning over to move a corner of the blanket away from the baby's face.

"He's great!" Timothy said, smiling.

"And no greater praise could there be." Patrick said, shaking his head and ruffling Timothy's hair.

Timothy pulled a face at him and turned to Shelagh. "Have you decided on names Mum?" he asked.

She looked at Patrick. "Well, we have a few ideas, but I think it depends on what name they look like. Timothy, we were going to ask - do you have any ideas?"

He looked thoughtful as he handed his brother over to Patrick.

"Well, I like Robert." he said eventually. "That's the name of one of my favourite book characters. I'm not so sure about girls' names though."

Patrick nodded equally thoughtfully, and turned to Shelagh. She looked white as a sheet and, scared, he quickly asked Timothy to fetch her a cup of tea as he guided her over to the sofa.

"What is it?" he asked quietly as the sounds of Timothy clattering the kettle around floated through the house.

"Robert was my father's name. Robert MacDonald. I hadn't even considered it."

Together they looked at the bundle in Patrick's arms.

"Well, I think it has to be Robert, don't you?"

Shelagh sniffed slightly and he looked up to realise she was silently crying.

"What's wrong?" he asked, terrified that there was something she hadn't mentioned, some complication that no one had noticed. His veins flooded with adrenalin and he was ready in an instant to support her if she fainted.

"I'm just - so happy. I didn't know you could be this happy." she stuttered out, and his heart melted all over again. They sat like that for a few minutes as her tears slowed, until finally he looked up again.

"So Robert's decided then. What about his sister?"

The baptism was held - of course - in Nonnatus House. Everyone was there, including Freddie, who had just discovered walking and was keen to practise. Chummy had to hold him through much of the proceedings, every so often dangling the knitted lion in front of him to hold his attention and stop him from toddling down the corridor. Robert went first, with Patrick carefully reciting his name - "Robert James Turner". His sister followed, held by Shelagh, and it was she who announced the much deliberated name to the congregation.

"Julie Rose Turner." she said firmly, and sneaked a look up to see Sister Julienne on the front row, her hand at her mouth as her shoulders shook slightly. Her eyes spoke for her, and Shelagh almost cried herself as she saw the gratitude and pride within them. Next to her Sister Evangelina bawled (all pretence of allergies long gone), and even Sister Monica Joan's eyes were glistening. Jenny, Trixie and Cynthia were covered in smiles, while Jane and her Reverend sat contentedly to the side. Chummy, Peter and Freddie were just next to them, and she could see even from the front that Chummy was holding hands with her policeman. Everyone was content.

Timothy stood by her side, Patrick to the other. Their babies were in their arms, and she was home at last.

Everything was truly wonderful.

And that (I think) is the end of Wonderful, Wonderful! I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I have adored writing it - there is the possibility of a sequel, but I'm heading off to Uni in a month and I don't know whether there'll be time to write as much as I'd like to. I didn't want to leave this unfinished (I hate it when you find amazing but unfinished and unupdated-for-two-years stories), but if I do decide on a sequel I will post a notification here - I promise.

So with that, goodbye - any reviews are, as ever, as welcome as a large chocolate chip muffin on a bad day, a cup of tea in the morning, or a Turnadette wedding at Christmas. Thank you, and goodnight! (...for now.)