Prompt 3: "You come into my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?"

Summary: Takes place in between Timothy's hospitalization for Polio and the Turnadette wedding (a period of time I'm still sad was never explored in the show, but whatever, that's what fanfic is for I guess….definitely not bitter about it what are you talking about?)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Shelagh hadn't expected to be out so late, but she supposed with the nurses' hectic schedules (which she fully understood), it wasn't entirely surprising. It had actually been a lovely evening. Trixie, Cynthia, Jenny, and Chummy had all come together since Shelagh's reconciliation with Nonnatus and delightedly taken her in as one of the girls. That night, Shelagh had gotten to fulfill one of her dreams of going out dancing with her friends and it was everything she'd ever dreamed it would be.

It certainly felt strange at first. Her instincts told her she shouldn't be there, but the nurses quickly overrode any feelings of trepidation and made her feel so incredibly welcome that when they left, she automatically moved to follow them back to Nonnatus after dropping Chummy off at home. She made it all the way there - partially out of the need to make sure Trixie and Jenny made it home without falling over - before she realized she no longer lived there and it was far past curfew at her boarding house. In hindsight, she probably could've simply asked Cynthia if she could stay the night, but the truth was, she didn't fancy having to explain to the Sisters that the reason she was eating breakfast with them was because she'd spent the night dancing and drinking a bit more than she ever would've dared as a nun. She'd also shamelessly accepted one of Trixie's cigarettes, but that was a secret she was no stranger to keeping.

From her father, to Patrick, to now the nurses of Nonnatus, it seemed Henleys marked a great deal of pleasant memories with the people she loved.

Shelagh's musings on love and cigarettes occupied her slightly buzzed and sleepy mind until she found herself standing outside the Turner flat. She smiled to herself. She hadn't even known that was where she was heading, but it seemed her body knew exactly how to take her home.

She fished Patrick's spare flat key (now her most prized possession) out of her purse. It wasn't entirely proper for her to have it as they weren't to be married for another two weeks, but Patrick had insisted and between Timothy's recovery and Patrick's long, erratic work hours, she couldn't deny it was practical as well as sentimental.

She opened the door as softly as she could and crept inside with the silent practice of years of late night deliveries.

Despite her exhaustion, her first stop was the guest room downstairs to check on her soon-to-be son. Timothy was finally home from the hospital, but he'd been sleeping in the guest room to avoid struggling up and down the stairs in his calipers. Shelagh's heart broke for the boy. Mentally, he was just as feisty as ever and the confinement was driving him insane. She fully understood. Her stay in the Sanitorium was necessary, but she was losing her mind from boredom and anxiety by the end of it.

Shelagh gently pushed the guest room door open and the soft light from the hall illuminated a deeply sleeping Timothy. She walked over and gave him a kiss on the forehead as she smoothed the hair out of his eyes. He could rant as much as he wanted about his father, but the truth was, Timothy was far more like Patrick than he would ever admit - stubborn floppy hair and all. At least he was sleeping peacefully, that was good. He must've tired himself out in physical therapy today.

She sighed as she walked into the sitting room and stared at the couch. She'd gratefully slept on it during the bomb scare, but afterwards she'd realized that the slight ache in her back was likely caused by the lumpy, old, reliable couch. It would be better though. She'd be close to Timothy if he needed her (not that he even knew she was there) and she'd maintain the strict lines of propriety she and Patrick had set for each other.

But she was so, so tired.

And Patrick's room was so close.

And after an exhausting night with the girls, all she wanted was to cuddle in his arms…

Her body made the decision for her as she turned from the couch and made her way up the stairs. She'd moved some of her clothes into her future room the other day, and she felt her heart warm as she approached the door.

Shelagh had to bite back a laugh as she entered the room. Patrick had his arm flung above his head, mussing his hair in almost the exact same position as his son. His soft breathing beckoned her closer and her smile widened impossibly when she saw he was wearing the top he'd lent over Christmas.

She quietly grabbed a nightgown she'd stored the other day in the closet and made her way to the bathroom to change. Gazing at her pajama-clad self in the bathroom mirror, she paused in wonder. The girl looking back at her was not at all the girl that left the Sanitorium months ago, nor was she even the girl that stayed with her fiance over Christmas. The woman in the mirror was relaxed and exhausted, but confident, and she felt completely at home. Any doubts about her decision to stay with Patrick that night vanished and she happily made her way back to her future bedroom, eager to lie down.

Patrick hadn't moved since she left, so she gently slid under the covers on the side he wasn't occupying. Likely to be her permanent side, she realized, as she saw the pile of unkempt Lancet's on the nightstand by his head. A giggle escaped her and she gently prodded his shoulder, suddenly desperate for him to know she was there.

Patrick sleepily blinked awake.

"Shelagh?" He asked, incredibly confused, but also secretly thrilled. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Patrick." She apologized. "The nurses took me out and it was past curfew and I didn't know where else to go, so I thought I would just come here. I missed you."

Patrick beamed and pulled her close to cuddle against him, smiling further as she quickly curled herself completely into his body like a little koala.

"You come into my room and wake me up at 4am, to cuddle?" He asked with a grin.

Shelagh blushed.

"I know it's not proper, but I just wanted to be close to you..."

He felt his heart melt.

"...and frankly, that couch is terribly uncomfortable." She finished with a smirk.

"Such cheek, Ms. Mannion." He teased.

"I felt you deserved to know the truth." She quipped back. "I really am sorry for waking you up, Patrick."

"It's alright, Shelagh, really." He assured. "You're always welcome here. I just didn't expect to wake up to the sight of you in my bed for another two weeks…"

"Patrick." She admonished and tucked her flushed face into his chest.

He laughed.

"Go to sleep, love. Just cuddles, I promise." He kissed her forehead and waited for her retort, but she was already lost to her dreams.

Patrick gently hugged her one last time and thanked God for the miracle in his arms before falling back into his own daze.

Three down, 47 to go! Writing these is definitely the highlight of work now. :D I hope you enjoy!