Prompt 24: "You're mine. I don't share."
Summary: Patrick has to leave on a conference, so Shelagh runs the surgery with a locum. Patrick really doesn't like it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Dr. Gibson.
Patrick rolled over once again to look at the clock. 3am. He was going to be exhausted and irritable again when he woke up, but he couldn't help it. How could he possibly be expected to sleep when Shelagh was being forced to work in close quarters with Dr. 'I-qualified-first-in-my-class-aren't-I-impressive' Gibson. God, he hated that man. He would've hated leaving his wife with any of the locums - whether or not she wanted to admit it, she was a young, pretty nurse and he was a jealous man - but he'd despised Henry Gibson long before he'd ever met Shelagh.
The two of them were in medical school together and while Patrick spent most of his time studying and pursuing an honest passion for medicine, Henry spent his time skating through classes on his father's money, easy intelligence, and charm, and pursuing a less than honest passion for girls. It just so happened that Gibson was the only one available for the entire week that Patrick would be gone and so he reluctantly didn't have any choice except to hand over his surgery. The day Henry came to take over the reigns would be forever burned in his brain.
"Shelagh, it's not too late. You could come with me to Liverpool." Patrick nearly begged.
"I wish I could, Patrick, I really do, but I'm needed here. I know how much you don't want Dr. Gibson running about the surgery and I think you'll sleep better knowing I have everything in hand." she tried to reassure him.
"I'll sleep better with you next to me instead of having to answer to that bastard's every beck and call." he muttered.
"Patrick," she warned, "it's only for a week and I'd like to think you know me well enough by now that you know I won't let Dr. Gibson walk all over myself or the surgery."
He sighed deeply.
"I do you know you, love." he apologized. "I trust you wholeheartedly, I just don't like the idea of leaving you alone with him. You don't know what he's like."
"I managed Sister Evangelina and Sister Monica Joan perfectly well when I looked over Nonnatus, I'm sure he can't be any worse." she smirked.
He was going to argue with her. He was going to make her see reason and give her an extensive list of evidence to prove just how much of a rakish, lying, manipulative, bloody brilliant arse Henry was when the man in question waltzed through the doors of the surgery.
"Ah, Patrick, long time, no see." Dr. Gibson strutted over and gave Patrick a heartier-than-called-for pat on the back.
"Henry," Patrick forced himself to smile through his tensing jaw, "what a pleasure. May I introduce-"
"Of course, they told me I'd be working with another Turner. I say, you must be incredibly proud to have such a beautiful daughter taking up the family practice." he reached his hand out to take Shelagh's and gently brought it to his lips. "Dr. Henry Gibson, Ms. Turner. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Patrick looked on the verge of a stroke, so Shelagh quickly interceded. Not that she would've blamed him for snapping and punching the man. He'd barely introduced himself and suddenly she was deeply regretting not going with Patrick to Brighton.
"Mrs. Turner, Dr. Gibson. I run the surgery here in Poplar with my husband." Shelagh corrected with a hard stare.
"Well, well, well, you've certainly done well for yourself, Patrick." Dr. Gibson sleazily suggested as he kept his eyes on Shelagh.
"Shelagh, may I have a word in my office before I go?" Patrick instructed more than requested as he grabbed her arm and led her towards office before quickly shutting the door.
"Patrick, I know what you're going to say, and you already know my answer." she stopped him before he could beg her once again to come with him. "It's the middle of the school term, it's too late to ask for help, and honestly, now that I've met him, I don't trust him with the nurses."
"You're a nurse!" Patrick shouted, completely frazzled.
"I'm a happily married nurse." she corrected. "It's different."
"Not to him." he spat.
"It is to me." she insisted. Shelagh sat him down on the desk and stepped between his legs so she could hold him. Hands caressing his face, she stared determinedly into his eyes. "I love you, Patrick Turner. I know you're worried that he'll do something untoward, and I know that you trust that I won't, so I'm not angry with you. If he tries anything, I'll have him thrown out."
Patrick hugged her close and let himself be comforted as he rested his head against hers and breathed her in.
"I love you Shelagh Turner. I'm not just worried about him being untoward, I'm worried about how he'll handle the practice, I'm worried about him asking for more of your time than he's allowed, I'm just...I don't trust him. I never have."
"And you still don't have to." she said. "You don't have to trust him as a person and you don't have to speak to him again. All you have to do is trust that he'll do his duty as a doctor for a week and leave the rest up to me and the sisters and the nurses. You said yourself that despite everything, he's very intelligent. What he lacks in manners, we'll make up for."
"You really are a miracle, you know that?" he observed lovingly. She blushed. She wondered if she would ever learn to simply accept a compliment from him. "Will you call the hotel when you get home?"
"I'm already looking forward to it." she whispered. She gently pulled at the back of his head and met his lips with all the love and promises she didn't have time to speak. "Travel safely, my love."
That was nearly a week ago and tomorrow couldn't come soon enough. One more morning of talks and then he could hurry home and kick Dr. Gibson out of his surgery literally and figuratively. Shelagh had gladly kept her promise and called him every night when she got home, but he still felt unsettled. It wasn't fair to her. He truly, absolutely, unequivocally trusted her and knew she would never even consider Dr. Gibson, but he knew his ex-classmate well and he couldn't shake the worry that he might hurt Shelagh or one of their colleagues. She didn't seem shaken on the phone. She was angry and frustrated, for sure, but not in the way she would be if he'd done something truly awful. Still, he needed to go home.
Patrick flew out of the departing luncheon so fast he wouldn't be surprised if everyone thought he was exceptionally rude and never invited him back. That would actually be fine, he thought. He would never have to be in this ghastly position again. Hours later, he haphazardly parked the MG back in Poplar and ran into the surgery to find it empty. He was thoroughly confused until he glanced at the calendar on Shelagh's desk and realized it was Tuesday afternoon. Damn, it was clinic and he'd completely forgotten.
Several honked horns and shouted curses later, he found himself at the community center.
He was about to walk through the door when Sister Winifred burst through it and nearly knocked him to the ground.
"Oh! Doctor Turner, I'm so sorry!" she quickly apologized and then seemed to truly realize who she was talking to. "Doctor Turner! You're back! Oh, thank heavens. You better go inside."
"Is everything alright?" he asked with significant concern.
"It was." she said sheepishly. "I think they held on as long as they could, but well…"
"How dare you?" Sister Evangelina's voice echoed from inside. Patrick took a deep breath.
"Are you by any chance going to fetch Sister Julienne?" he asked hopefully.
"As quickly as I can." she answer affirmatively.
"Good. I'll see what I can do." It wasn't much, but it was all he had to offer before he hurried inside.
The scene that met him instantly assuaged any fears he'd ever had about Shelagh holding her own. All productive work had completely ceased as everyone watched Nurse Turner and Doctor Gibson practically scream at each other. Sister Evangelina had clearly come in a little later, but was now firmly on Shelagh's side. He'd never seen Shelagh genuinely angry before and while he was immensely proud, he was also a little frightened. He guessed the argument had something to do with Sister Mary Cynthia, who was standing behind Shelagh looking extremely uncomfortable.
Minutes prior:
Dr. Gibson stormed over to Shelagh in the kitchen.
"That's the fourth consultation Sister Mary Cindy's needed in an hour!" he shouted. Shelagh felt the familiar armour solidify in her skin. Normally, she wouldn't be so rattled, but it had been an unbearable week.
"Sister Mary Cynthia, and I don't see what the problem is."
"What is the point of having all of you nurses if you can't even run a clinic without a consultation every five seconds?" he asked indignantly.
"It is our job to call you for consultation when we feel it necessary!" she bit back.
"You mean when you don't know the answer and you need your precious husband to do your job for you?" he snarled.
"Doing our jobs for us?! The nurses and the Sisters have been swamped with additional cases this past week because you don't finish your rounds!" she nearly shrieked. She couldn't do it anymore.
"I didn't qualify as a doctor to run around like an errand boy administering insulin shots!" he shouted. "Perhaps that's all Patrick thinks he's good for, but not me. God, I can't believe I ever agreed to come to a cesspool like Poplar."
He turned and marched out of the kitchen, intent on leaving, but Shelagh was nowhere near done.
"Doctor Turner is a good doctor because he values complex surgeries just as much as a simply shot and maybe you could learn something if you bothered to care about any of your patients!" she yelled.
"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize part of the job was hand-holding." he mocked. "Maybe I should pay more attention to Sister Mary Clementine."
"Sister. Mary. Cynthia." Shelagh was shaking. "Who happens to be an extremely qualified nurse."
"An extremely qualified nurse who needs a consultation on a common venereal disease?" he laughed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The worst mistake the national health made was allowing nuns to continue practice. You can't practice what you'll never understand."
"How dare you?" shouted Sister Evangelina. "She didn't ask for a consultation because she didn't know the bloody disease, she asked because she can't prescribe the antibiotics, you fool!"
"She could've written it up for me to deal with later."
"When?" she fumed. "When you're drinking in your office?"
He stalked towards her.
"I would've thought a deflowered nun would be more forgiving of vices." he whispered menacingly, but loud enough that the people close by heard it all and gasped.
Shelagh's hand made contact with his face before she even knew she was moving. Patrick's jaw dropped, but he knew this was going to end badly if someone didn't stop them, so he only allowed a second of indulgent pride...and arousal?
"Why, you little-"
"I'd be very careful about the next word that comes out of your mouth, Henry." Patrick warned.
All eyes turned to Patrick.
"Turner." Dr. Gibson fell immediately back into his deceitful persona. "Welcome back."
"Interesting welcome to come back to." Patrick quipped.
"Yes, well, you're little wife's a bit of a fire cracker." he joked sinsterly.
"Henry, I've known Shelagh for over a decade and I've never seen her so much as hit a fly, so whatever you did, if it was enough to make her slap you, it was enough for me to do much worse. I suggest you leave now that your services are no longer required." Patrick waited for some annoyingly clever remark, but it never came. Humiliated for possibly the first time, he grabbed his medical bag and stormed from the hall.
"I never thought I'd be happy to see you, Patrick, but welcome home." Sister Evangelina gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder and started yelling at everyone to get back to work.
Shelagh and Patrick stared at each other before desperately trying to hide their laughter.
"I think that's the first time she's ever touched me." he remarked cheekily.
"Don't get any ideas, Patrick." she teased.
"Never," he heartily agreed. "So long as you don't go chasing after anymore doctors."
Shelagh looked at him incredulously.
"Were you actually worried I would run off with that?"
"I can't help my jealous nature, love. You're mine, I don't share." he enhanced the statement with sweet kisses to her forehead until she smiled.
"You'll never have to, my love." she promised with a quick kiss to his lips that was not nearly long enough for what she wanted to say.
They both made their way towards the intake table so Shelagh could get him caught up on the day's cases. She picked up her clipboard, looked up at his expectant face, and rolled her eyes.
"Once." she relented. "You can say it once."
"I told you so." he whispered. He would pay for that later.
24 down, 26 to go! Hope you enjoy!