Prompt 19: "You're getting crumbs all over my bed."

Summary/AN: This one is kind of cheating because I'm playing around with a longer fic in this AU, but I also wanted to get a feel for if people wanted to read the monster-long version of it! Basically in this AU, Shelagh is orphaned at six and taken in by Nonnatus and Patrick was born and raised in Poplar before he goes off to war. It's a really long fic that's been bouncing around in my head for awhile, but I wanted to kind of test it? The whole story is mostly about Shelagh and her journey, but everyone else is there too. Anyway, this chapter is Shelagh and Patrick's first meeting when she's seven and he's 24.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but I did invent some nuns, nurses, and doctors.

Poplar, 1933.

The harvest festival was one of Shelagh's favorite times of year. She always loved the smell of fall and fresh fruits and vegetables. It smelled like the farm; like home. The sisters were hard at work in the kitchen preparing for the harvest feast and she'd been strictly told she was not to mess around with any of the food. The community had very little and they didn't want anything wasted. Still, she wanted to be a part of it all. Shelagh spent most of the morning and the afternoon perched in the kitchen doorway on top of a chair so she could watch the growing bounty on the counter tops. Sister Mary Prudence had tried to shoo her away several times, but Sister Evangelina eventually said she could stay as long as she didn't get underfoot. Sister Monica Joan understood her plight of not being as included as she would've liked and frequently winked her way as she snuck cranberries into the excited girl's hands. The kitchen smelled like magic and for the first time, Shelagh didn't feel the crushing weight of grief and homesickness in the back of her heart.

Soon, there was nothing to do but wait and the rest of the Sisters left the kitchen to wash themselves and see to patients. Sister Julienne came back in to grab tea for a visitor at some point while Sister Evangelina took the duty of tidying the kitchen itself.

Shelagh didn't find the cleaning as interesting as the cooking, so she sat with her small handful of cranberries and lost herself in the sweet smells. Eventually though, she got bored and was going to leave when a thought occurred to her. Sister Evangelina always looked to be the toughest of the nuns, but she was also the most susceptible to Shelagh's charms and that meant opportunity was ripe. Sister Evangelina could feel Shelagh watching her from the doorway and knew exactly what kept the tiny scot in her place.

"Alright, you little scamp, come here, I know what you're after." Sister Evangelina waved her over from her loitering spot by the door and Shelagh gleefully skipped back into the kitchen for her prize. Dinner wouldn't be for some time, but she had high hopes of a special biscuit beforehand and it seemed her prayers were going to be answered. Sister Evangelina shook her head as she pulled out the hidden tin in far less time than it normally took. "You're worse than Sister Monica Joan, you know? At least you never eat them all in one sitting."

"Only because you won't let me!" Shelagh protested with a grin.

"And for good reason, Mannion." Sister Evangelina teased as she snatched the tin away before Shelagh could sneak a second one. "You're trouble enough as it is, no one needs you on a sugar rush."

Shelagh hugged the woman who had quickly become one of her many mothers and darted away with a chipper "Thank you, Sister Evie!" Now alone with her biscuit, she realized why Sister Evangelina had been able to get her the treat so quickly. The tin wasn't hidden at all! Why was that? How had she not noticed? She knew no one would ever leave it around for her or Sister Monica Joan to plunder, so why was it out? Did someone else eat her special biscuits? Shelagh didn't put much stock into personal possessions, but she didn't have very much that she could call her own and those were her special Nonnatus biscuits that Ms. Violet made especially for her from an old Scottish recipe. She didn't like the idea of someone having one and her not knowing about it. Sister Julienne would tell her to not be selfish and to share and she sighed as she tried to remember her lesson. She supposed whoever needed the biscuit must've needed it very badly or they wouldn't have been allowed. Assured by her own logic, she happily turned the corner into the sitting room only to be confronted with the extremely confusing image of a strange man sitting on her bed and eating her biscuit!

Shelagh was shy outside of the walls of her new home, but inside, her fiery spirit reigned free.

"Excuse me, you're getting crumbs all over my bed!" she pointed to the blankets on the couch beneath the stranger and the man immediately lept up.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize anyone slept here." he hastily apologized.

"It's okay." she accepted his apology. She had already been ruder than she meant to be and he did seem genuinely sorry. There was a kindness about him that she hadn't seen from most men in Poplar. Plus, he was allowed to sit inside Nonnatus and as far as she knew, men didn't really come in here. He must be very special. "I'm Shelagh." she stuck her tiny hand out in greetings.

"Patrick." he met her hand with his and gently shook it. "I've heard about you. Or rather, read about you I suppose. Sister Julienne wrote about you in her letters."

"She did?" Shelagh asked in wonder.

"Yes, you've become quite famous in these parts." he joked. Shelagh's smile faltered.

"I don't want to be famous." she said softly. "The other kids make fun of me because I don't have a mum and dad and they say my accent's funny."

"That's not very nice of them." Patrick tried to comfort the little soul who was rapidly opening up to him for reasons he couldn't understand. "You know, I don't have a mum or dad either."

"Really?" Shelagh knew she shouldn't be happy at someone else's misfortune, but the only other people she knew whose parents had died were the older nuns and that was to be expected. This man, Patrick, was older than her for sure, but much younger than Sister Monica Joan.

"Really." Patrick sighed sadly. "My mum died when I was very little and my dad died in the war."

"Oh. I'm sorry." She knew she was supposed to say she was sorry, though she still wasn't sure why. Lots of people had said they were sorry when her parents passed, but it confused her. It wasn't their fault.

"Thank you." he smiled.

"Oh, Patrick, I see you've met our Shelagh." Sister Julienne said cheerfully as she walked into the room to greet the young man. Shelagh stared. She'd never seen Sister Julienne hug a man before! "Shelagh, this is Patrick Turner. His mum was a nurse with us and he's just come back from medical school. He'll be observing with Dr. Andrews until he leaves us again for the London to do his residency."

Shelagh wasn't sure what to say. She didn't know what a residency was, but it was clear that this Patrick was part of the Nonnatus family and she supposed that meant he was part of her family in a way?

"Does that mean you're going to be a doctor?" Shelagh asked, suddenly more shy with two adults in the room to her one child.

"I hope so." Patrick laughed. "That is if Dr. Andrews doesn't throw me out for tardiness."

"We hoped university would cure of you that." Sister Julienne joked.

"Alas, it seems I cannot be cured." Patrick sighed. "I should be going. Thank you for the tea and biscuits, Sister." he knelt down and held his hand out again. "It was lovely to meet you, Shelagh." Shelagh shook his hand and watched Sister Julienne walk him to the door.

He'd said 'biscuits'...plural...as in more than one...she would have to keep an eye on him.

19 down, 31 to go! Hope you enjoy!