Prompt 15: Is that my shirt?"

Summary: Season 7 speculative Teddy Turner fluff.

A/N: I'm super making up where doors and furniture are in this new house because how even do any of these rooms connect?

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

"Shelagh, we'll be fine, I promise." Patrick attempted for the fifth time as his wife readjusted Teddy's cot once again. Poor Teddy, meanwhile, was fussing in his father's arms, not at all pleased with being removed from his bed even if it was in the name of additional blankets. "Darling, you'll only be gone a couple of hours and he'll probably just sleep through it."

"What if he needs me, Patrick?" she asked worriedly. "What if he gets hungry? What if he's too cold? What if the stove catches fire? What if-"

"Shelagh. Shelagh, stop." Patrick said firmly. "You fed him just a little while ago and we have formula in the pantry, I don't see how he could possibly be cold with (he counted) five blankets in his cot, and unless Teddy has suddenly developed a penchant for cooking, I don't believe either of us will be going anywhere near the kitchen, let alone the stove."

"But I'm his mother." she protested.

"And I'm his father." Patrick countered, surprisingly not hurt at her implication. He'd gone through this dance when Tim was born. With Angela, they'd immediately felt like a team and while Shelagh loved her daughter with her entire soul, she didn't have to deal with the insanity of post-natal hormones, so she was more easily amenable to leaving Angela with Patrick now and then. Teddy, however, was her miracle baby boy. Her boy that she still couldn't always believe wouldn't fade away into a distant dream. "Love, you have to leave him sometime. It's been two months since you've taken a moment for yourself. Go have coffee with Nurse Franklin and talk about...well whatever it is you two talk about when I'm not with you."

"It'll be about your snoring if you don't hand him over." she threatened lovingly. Patrick willingly relinquished the squirming baby knowing that if she had rediscovered her sense of humor, she was likely on her way to agreeing to go.

Shelagh cuddled Teddy tightly to her and grinned when he immediately stopped fussing.

"That's not fair. I don't know how you do that." Patrick muttered. Teddy loved his father and would gladly cuddle and laugh with him, but Patrick still hadn't mastered getting his son settled and was slightly put out that Shelagh could do it almost instantaneously.

"I told you, Patrick." she only partially teased. "He needs his mother." She gently rocked the bundle of cream blankets.

"And he will have her." Patrick acquiesced. "In two hours when she's back from coffee with her friend."

"I suppose you're right." Shelagh sighed. "I will be back in precisely two hours though, and if he needs me, we'll be near Nonnatus, so you can call there."

"Of course love." He assured knowing he was in no way going to do any such thing. She was such a devoted mother and he loved her for it, but he knew she got restless and even a couple of hours in Trixie's company would do her a world of good. She reluctantly passed Teddy back to Patrick, who was thrilled when his son didn't start squirming again.

"See, we'll be just fine, won't we son?" Patrick asked, playing with Teddy's hand. "Wave goodbye to mummy!" Teddy just gurgled as his father waved his hand back and forth and Shelagh laughed warmly.

"Alright, you ridiculous man." she kissed her smallest boy on the forehead and her largest boy on the lips before finally making her way out the door.

An hour later, Patrick didn't know what to do. Teddy had started crying merely five minutes after Shelagh left and he would not be consoled. Patrick had tried feeding, changing, burping, cuddling, not cuddling, the radio, reading to him, absolutely nothing was working. He even tried doing the silly voices when reading, but apparently that was only soothing to his daughter, not to Teddy. At least Tim and Angela were with their grandmother for the weekend and were not here to make fun of him…

"Come on, Teddy boy, what do you need?" Patrick desperately asked the screaming infant. He knew from experience that sometimes babies did just cry and there was no rhyme or reason to it, but it seemed particularly brutal that Teddy would have a spell on the first day Shelagh left him alone. Shelagh... maybe Teddy really did just miss his mum?

"Do you miss mummy?" Patrick asked hopefully, an idea springing to mind. "Let's see what we can do, huh?"

Patrick swiftly carried Teddy upstairs into the master bedroom and began rummaging around in the laundry bin. He let out a cry of triumph when he found his prize - the soft cotton shirt Shelagh was wearing the day before. The shirt had miraculously made it through the day without being covered in any questionable fluids, but they were both so used to throwing all their clothes in the bin with a new baby around that she must've tossed it out of habit.

He lay Teddy down on the bed and wrapped him tightly in the light blue fabric. He and Shelagh both tended to cuddle the other's pajamas if one of them was out late and he prayed taking comfort in scent was hereditary.

The effect was instantaneous. Teddy's cries turned to soft whimpers as he subconsciously snuggled his head into his mother's scent. Patrick nearly cried.

"I guess you really do need your mum." he whispered. "I need her too. You look almost as cute in her clothes as she does."

Teddy sleepily smacked his lips in response and Patrick gently bounced him as they made their way downstairs to settle on the couch. He loved watching Teddy sleep. He did the same thing with Tim and Angela when they were infants (and sometimes now, but he'd never admit it). No matter how much terror they caused during the day, there was something so serene about watching the rise and fall of their tiny lungs and the small drool bubbles at the corner of their mouths. It was as though nothing bad could exist in a world with something so beautiful in it - even though he knew the notion was far from true.

He didn't blame Shelagh for not wanting to leave him, not one bit. Why would anyone want to be anywhere else?

He gently stroked his finger back and forth against his son's head. Teddy's hair was starting to come in, though he couldn't quite be sure who's coloring it would take. Right now, it was a kind of soft brown which could easily become darker like his or blonder like his mother's. Secretly, he hoped Teddy would end up with his hair. The boy's eyes and nose were all Shelagh and he knew it would drive her crazy to have yet another Turner male with disobeying, floppy locks while her own hair and Angela's hair always fell so perfectly.

"And then," he playfully whispered to Teddy, "at the rate your brother's chasing girls, you'll be just old enough to wear Brylcreem at his wedding and we can take turns embarrassing him while mummy cries and glares at us."

"Patrick, I'm home." Shelagh's melodic voice floated into the living room along with the soft closing of the front door.

"We're here." he said softly over his shoulder.

Shelagh walked quietly, but quickly into the room and beamed at the sight of them on the couch before tipping her head in confusion.

"Is that my shirt?" she asked, thoroughly perplexed. Patrick flushed.

"Yes." he begrudgingly admitted. "Turns out there are now two Turner men who can't sleep without you beside them."

"Oh, Patrick." she smiled with tears in her eyes.

"I hope you don't mind. He was crying, and none of the usual things worked, and I thought it might comfort him." he explained.

"Darling, I would never mind anything like that." she gushed. "I think it's incredibly sweet."

Shelagh tucked her legs up under her and leaned her head on Patrick's shoulder, both of them watching the now-content Teddy in his mother's cardigan.

"I told you he needed his mother." Shelagh teased.

"Hush."

15 down, 35 to go! Hope you enjoy!