Prompt 42: "Bite Me"
Summary: Trixie and Phyllis aren't the only ones afraid of spiders in South Africa…
A/N: I'm writing this on the beach in Florida knowing I have to go back up north soon...BUT NOT TODAY!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Their mission to South Africa was turning out to be a huge spectrum of experiences. For every moment they spent agonizing over how to help people who needed so much more than they could give, there was another moment of sheer wonder over a herd of zebra or amusement at how the local children tormented Fred. At times, and especially the other night with Shelagh's daring new nightgown that she insisted she bought "for the climate", the couple felt like they were on vacation. No children (though they missed them), no endless Poplar babies (they missed that slightly less), and most of all, the beautiful feeling of fresh, warm air and serenity rarely found at home - until that horrid Sergeant came and told them they had to move their broken down truck in the middle of the night because it was blocking traffic...right.
In the time it took them to move the truck and make it back to their room, Shelagh had progressed from thinking uncharitable thoughts, to practically plotting how to overthrow the South African government.
"It's just cruel, Patrick. They can't do this." she fumed, slamming the wooden door to their room open.
"I think you'll find they can, darling." he sighed with a smile. He'd given up on trying to calm her down and was now slightly enjoying watching her tiny frame shake with more anger than it could hold. Angry Shelagh, due to her size and consternation, was utterly adorable - when he wasn't the target of her anger, of course.
"They shouldn't be able to, it's barbaric." she spat. "Did you see them the other night? Before they commanded us out of our meeting, they told Roza and Fezeka that they couldn't be around the nurses or Sister Winifred. It's disgusting, Patrick. Oh, I wish I could just - ooh!" She flopped down, frustrated, on the bed and Patrick sat beside her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Despite his amusement, he too was horrified by the societal conditions that surrounded them and he did feel for her.
"Shelagh, there's nothing you can do about it right now." he spoke softly as he gently rubbed his thumb over her palm.
"I know." she sighed. "But it doesn't stop me from feeling horribly guilty that we get to go home to luxuries our patients here can barely conceive of."
"I understand. Although, I hate to break it to you, darling, but we kind of do that at home as it is." he admitted with a chuckle. "I'm afraid we've become just a bit bourgeois."
"We have not!" she insisted. Though, as she thought about it, she realized he was absolutely right. The Shelagh Turner of 1959 would never have dared suggest flying to South Africa with a suitcase full of new clothes. The Shelagh of four years ago would have insisted they take the boat with the others and probably altered second-hand clothes from Nonnatus to fit their summer needs. "I suppose that was always a risk with you being the only resident GP."
"I hope becoming 'the doctor's wife' hasn't become too glamorous for you." he teased gently.
"I think our current whereabouts more than make up for it, dearest." she laughed with a look around their room. "Though, I do think there's a certain charm to - PATRICK!" Shelagh screamed as she pushed off Patrick's shoulders to launch herself completely onto the bed as fast as she could.
"What happened?" Patrick asked, afraid she'd hurt herself. He whipped his around to find her now standing on top of their pillows and desperately trying to push her way through the wall behind the bed. "Shelagh?"
"No, no, no, no, no." Shelagh muttered, terrified, as she continued to shift her weight and dig her fingers against the wall.
"Darling, what on earth are you going on about?" he asked, confused, until she shakily pointed to the floor behind him. He slowly turned, convinced a lion must have somehow found its way into their compound. Instead, he found himself staring at a spider, perhaps the size of Angela's hand. Bigger than any they had in Poplar, but nothing to write home about. Realization dawned. "Shelagh Turner, are you afraid of the little spider?" he asked, smile quirking.
"This isn't funny, Patrick. Can you please, please just get rid of it?" she nearly begged with a hint of her former anger brewing behind her eyes.
"You've never been afraid of spiders." he observed.
"I don't like spiders, alright!" she nearly shrieked. "Yes, I grew up on a farm. Yes, I am always conveniently busy if Timothy or Angela sees one. No, I am not moving until that...thing is gone."
"Shelagh, it's not even poisonous. It can't hurt you." he laughed as he casually scooped up the spider into his palm. Shelagh visibly paled and he might have been offended by the disgust in her eyes were the situation not so absolutely hilarious. Knowing she would likely be too paralyzed to inflict bodily harm, he moved towards the bed, spider in hand.
"Patrick what are you doing?" she panicked, eyes going wide and darting between his face and his cupped hands.
"I just want you to see that it can't hurt you, love." he promised, somewhat truthfully.
"I am not Angela, Patrick Turner! I do not need to learn about how animals are my friends, and I certainly don't need you to take another step towards me." she argued.
"Shelagh, I don't think you're a child." he insisted. "I just think if we're going to be here for some time, it would do you good to - Shelagh!" he shouted as she tumbled off the side of the bed. He'd been so focused on her face that he hadn't noticed her subconsciously moving further and further away from him and closer and closer to the edge of the mattress. He quickly threw the spider out the window and hurried to her side. "Are you alright?" he moved to help her off the floor and check for bruising but the glare she sent him told him to stay exactly where he was.
"Do not even think about touching me before washing your hands." she warned lowly. "I'm fine."
He refused to move until he saw her successfully get herself up, but then he relented at went to rinse off.
"What were you thinking Patrick? It could've bitten you. It could've bitten us both, and then who would take care of Timothy and Angela?" she continued her tirade as he walked back to bed.
"I don't think it would've come to either of us dying, love." he countered, accepting that he shouldn't have pushed her and watching her deflate a bit. "I am sorry though, I should never have scared you like that."
"It's alright." she sighed. "I'm sorry I panicked. I know it's silly, but I can't help it."
"Can I ask why?" he wondered.
"My brother, the one who passed, thought it would be funny when we were wee ones to catch spiders in the barn and put them in my bed." she reflected sadly. "I was about five or so when he started and no one ever really told him to stop, so it just kept happening and now everytime I see one-"
"-you're back in your five-year-old bed." he finished for her. She nodded and curled into him, suddenly smaller than she'd been in a very long time. "I'm sorry, Shelagh, I should've been more sensitive."
"You didn't know." she accepted his apology. "I really did try and hide it back home. They're just so much bigger here…besides, it's only fair that you laugh at me a little. I still think it's a bit funny that you're afraid of the dentist."
"I am not afraid of the-" he tried to defend himself.
"Marianne had Sister Evangelina and I take you kicking and screaming when you had a toothache in 1951 and even then, Sister Evangelina had to force you to take a sedative in the car because you wouldn't stop hyperventilating." she smiled at the memory.
"I forgot you were there that day…" he mumbled wryly.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else." she teased. "Aside from me, Sister Julienne and Sister Monica Joan are the only ones left who even know it happened."
"Oh good, then my secret is safe." he replied sarcastically.
"As safe as mine is." Shelagh remarked pointedly.
"Touche." he chuckled. "Bed?"
"Gladly." Shelagh sighed. She was exhausted after the night they'd had. Patrick leaned over to turn off the light and Shelagh rolled slightly so he could cuddle up behind her.
He waited about two minutes before running his fingers like little spider legs across her stomach and she yelped. "Patrick!"
"Sorry, I couldn't resist." he laughed. "I promise, just sleep now."
"Oh no you don't." Shelagh replied, turning on the light. "I can't possibly go to sleep after that."
"Oh, what a shame." Patrick replied with a grin. "What would help you fall asleep, darling?"
"Patrick…" she rolled her eyes and for a moment, he thought she was angry again, but then she smiled and cast her gaze up to meet his. "Bite me, Patrick."
The eagerness in his eyes as she pulled him to her neck more than made up for his wandering spider fingers.
42 down, 8 to go! Hope you enjoy!