When I Found You, My Heart Found a Home, a call the midwife fanfic

Title: When I Found You, My Heart Found a Home

Pairing: Patsy Mount/Delia Busby (Pupcake)

Rating: T

Word Count: 10,000

Disclaimer: None of the Call the Midwife characters belong to me; I'm just borrowing them for a bit.

A/N: Just a little something I've been working on since the final. I couldn't get the 'what ifs' out of my head, so I wrote them down.

Summary: Alternative ending to 4x08 – What if Delia never borrowed Patsy's bike?

"Should I take the keys and get a set cut for you?" Patsy asks as she watches Delia pull the door closed to the building that houses their flat.

"Yes," Delia returns with a happy smile, sharing in Patsy's excitement as she passes the keys over and allows her touch to linger a moment longer than she should in public. "I'd come with you but I'll be late on duty if I don't fly."

Patsy glances down at her watch as reality slowly starts to creep back over them. "Gosh, yes. It's twenty-to," she replies, a hint of amazement in her voice at the growing familiarity of the way she and Delia can seem to lose track of time so easily in their private bubble.

"Twenty-to?" Delia echoes incredulously, her eyes instantly falling down to check her own watch. "I thought it was about quarter-past. Oh, I must have got water in my watch," she adds with a frown, perplexed as to how she's managed such a thing.

"I'd say you could borrow my bike but we both know what a menace you are on two-wheels, Deels," Patsy sing-songs with a cheeky smile.

Delia shakes her head in refute but ultimately fails to hold her smile back when Patsy grins even brighter at her. "It's not entirely my fault that the front tire got a puncture," she retorts, her voice slightly raised in mock-offence that only serves to make Patsy's eyes twinkle in amusement. "How was I supposed to see that rogue nail in the road?"

"I did warn you there was a knack to riding the bike," Patsy chides playfully, her eyebrows quirking and her smile widening at Delia's adorable defensiveness.

Delia shakes her head in response to the remark, her smile big and beautiful and showing off the cute little dimples in her cheeks. "Perhaps you're right. I may not quite have the knack for cycling proficiency just yet, after all."

"I could always give you some one-on-one lessons, I suppose," Patsy offers with a kind smile, and then jestingly adds, "Once you have your own bike of course. I couldn't possibly risk more damage to mine, Fred would never forgive me."

Delia's eyes soften at Patsy's thoughtful proposition, her smile turning fond. "You really are a sort of angel, Pats," she hums appreciatively. "Tragedy is no one will ever know."

There's a hint of sorrow in Delia's voice that Patsy recognises instantly; it's a sorrow that comes sometimes from their tiring facade, and it makes Patsy's heart pinch in remorse, knowing that the heartache Delia feels for always having to keep her emotions in check can sometimes be just that little bit too much even on the best of days.

She lets her hand reach out and clasp Delia's, urging Delia's eyes to her own, and strokes her thumb soothingly across the back of Delia's knuckles, a silent acknowledgement that her sorrow is shared.

"But you'll know," Patsy murmurs affectionately, the corners of her mouth curling into a tender smile. "And that's all that truly matters."

Delia releases a heavy breath at the reminder, letting the weight that was crushing her float away, and squeezes Patsy's hand back. "I suppose you're right," she confirms with a small smile.

"Aren't I always?" Patsy quips with a grin, attempting to bring the air of excitement and joy back between them. "Since my bike is out of commission until Fred decides to embrace his handiness again, you'll just have to settle for my sterling company on your walk to The London."

"I can't think of anything better," Delia replies, grinning at Patsy's chivalry as she offers her arm out for Delia to take.

Delia immediately links their arms together, bumping their shoulders against one another with a grateful smile before letting Patsy lead them towards their destination.

They're lucky enough to both have Sunday off, and with their cleaning supplies at the ready, they begin their endeavour of sprucing up their flat.

Delia busies herself with hoovering the small space with a vacuum cleaner they've borrowed from Chummy, while Patsy sets about wiping down the walls, cleaning the windows and dusting every surface in sight.

She's hard at task, her focus narrowed in on scrubbing a stubborn mark from the windowsill when she hears a soft laugh escape from Delia's mouth. Her eyes flick up from the mark they're trained on and instantly fall to the doting smile illuminating Delia's face.

The enamoured gaze Delia's gracing her with makes Patsy's heart stutter in her chest, her body filling with a delightful lightness that leaves her bursting with utter happiness.

"What is it?" Patsy questions in a low hum, not wanting to break the pleasant moment, her eyes refusing to leave Delia's even for a second.

Delia closes the gap between them in response and lets her fingers gently caress away the stray hairs that are falling into Patsy's sky blue eyes.

"It just feels like home already," Delia confesses in a happy murmur, her fingers delicately tracing the soft line of Patsy's jaw before her hand cups Patsy's cheek. She lets her eyes fall shut briefly as she takes a deep breath in. "I really do love that smell," she whispers contentedly, her eyes fluttering open to find Patsy's once more as the scent of bleach hangs in the air between.

Patsy hears the unspoken emotions behind Delia's explanation, the astonished 'you really are here with me, aren't you?' answered in the simple, reassuring kiss she presses to the palm of Delia's hand.

Thankfully they have just over a week to ready the flat before the council begins work to knock down Delia's section of the Nurses' Home, and Sister-Julienne is more than happy to allow them to store their belongings at Nonnatus House until they're ready to complete their move.

A few days after they've completed their spring-cleaning of the flat, on a rather unexpectedly sunny Thursday afternoon, Delia drags Patsy out to the shops to search for paints. She spends a good hour looking at all the different colours they have to choose from, completely overwhelmed, before deciding to purchase a couple of brochures with different colour palettes for them to look over.

Once they're back at the flat, Delia passes Patsy the brochures, turned to the pages filled with different shades of yellow, and nudges her towards the wall opposite the window.

"Is this entirely necessary, Delia?" Patsy questions as she holds the brochures up against the wall as instructed. "Can't we just pick one over a cup of tea?"

Delia shushes her complaining with a smile, and urges Patsy to hold them higher so that the sunlight shining in through the window catches against the selection of colours. "We can't have any old yellow on these walls, Pats," Delia says seriously. "This is going to be our home for the foreseeable future, so we can't wake up each morning to the wrong shade of yellow. We wouldn't want to start our days off on the wrong foot, would we now?"

Hearing Delia speak so confidently and so certainly about their future makes an adoring warmth expand throughout Patsy's body, igniting her heart with overwhelming love for the woman standing before her.

"Here," Patsy says, stepping forward to pass Delia the brochures and guiding her back against the wall before stepping back herself to carefully regard their choices. "Well, I can tell you now that I'm not a fan of that ghastly 'Canary', it's far too glaring for one's eyes."

Delia turns her eyes towards the brochure, finding the offending colour and considers it for a moment before nodding in agreement. "I think we need something subtler; something happy but also warm and inviting."

Patsy smiles in response, watching as Delia's brow crinkles in thought as she considers the other shades on the palette. "By that description we need a yellow that captures your essence," she replies affectionately.

Delia blushes at the compliment, and then her eyes suddenly glimmer with playfulness. "'Lemon' then?" she teases with a grin.

Patsy laughs heartily at Delia's jesting response, and shakes her head. "I was thinking more of the one so aptly named 'Autumn Sun'," Patsy confides thoughtfully. "It's happy, warm, inviting, and every bit as beautiful as you are."

Delia stares back at her in awe for a moment before stepping away from the wall and placing the brochures wordlessly onto the table, and closes the remaining gap between them. Her hands reach out to take Patsy's own when she's close enough, and she tangles their fingers together, squeezing affectionately.

"I adore you, Patience Mount," Delia murmurs in a hushed voice, her quiet confession whispering against Patsy's lips and causing a heated flush to creep up Patsy's neck and settle high in her cheeks.

She watches as Delia's eyes flicker down to her mouth, lingering for a longing moment before returning to her own. The intensity of Delia's gaze makes Patsy's breath hitch with the overwhelming and palpable desire that always surrounds them whenever they allow themselves a fleeting moment to be this close.

Patsy answers Delia's silent yearning request by squeezing her hands back and lowering her head enough that she can brush her nose wantonly against Delia's own. She feels more than hears Delia's sharp intake of breath at her bold caress, and feels a shiver ripple down her spine as Delia presses upwards on her toes and presses her lips softly to her own.

It's a gentle kiss; tender and sweet and every bit as intoxicating as the kisses they've shared previously, the only difference this time is that they don't have to worry about being seen. It's with that knowledge that Patsy lets herself relax fully, her lips following after Delia's as she begins to move away, and kissing her softly once more.

Delia melts into the touch, letting her lips return Patsy's kisses just as eagerly, and sighs happily when they finally break apart, their foreheads resting together as they attempt to steady their racing hearts and uneven breaths.

"I very much adore you too, Delia Busby," Patsy whispers as their eyes flutter open and meet.

Delia smiles softly back at her, her hand drifting up to rest over Patsy's heart, feeling the racing rhythm beneath her palm and breathes, "Welcome home, my love."

Hearing those words makes Patsy nuzzles their noses together again with a carefree smile, drawing Delia in for another delicate, lingering kiss, just because she can.

They purchase two tins of 'Autumn Sun' yellow the following morning, Patsy grasping the handle of a tin in each hand as Delia practically skips back to their flat, her face lit up with an excited smile as she twirls their new paintbrushes through the air as if they were sparklers.

Patsy can only smile at Delia's animated actions, her happiness utterly contagious and entirely welcome.

"Have you ever actually done this before?" Patsy questions as Delia slips her newly cut key into the lock and opens the door to their flat, making sure to hold the door open wide enough for Patsy and the tins of paint to pass through.

"Painted a room?" Delia replies as she sets her paintbrushes down on the table and then reaches to free Patsy from one of the rather heavy tins. Patsy nods as Delia catches her eye and sets the other tin alongside Delia's. "Once," Delia confesses, her eyes softening and her lips curling into a fond smile. "I helped my father repaint our kitchen when I was twelve."

Patsy raises her eyebrow questioningly. "Repaint?" she asks, sensing more to the story.

"My mam accidentally caught a pan of oil on fire one evening and the flames just went up, coating all the white walls in a black smoke," Delia explains with a slight grimace, remembering the heat. "My mam was mortified that she'd been so careless, but my dad was just grateful she wasn't hurt. He let her pick whatever colour she wanted to paint the kitchen then, to reassure her he wasn't upset. She picked out a lovely shade of peach and my dad enlisted my help one afternoon when she was out to tea with my aunt to surprise her."

Patsy smiles as she watches Delia recall the memory, enjoying the way Delia's eyes light up as she talks about her family. "So, you became an expert painter in one afternoon," Patsy says, watching as Delia lets out a little laugh and shake her head in refute.

"Not quite Michelangelo, I'm afraid," Delia replies as she begins to pry the lid off one of the paint tins with a screwdriver. "But my dad had me follow his technique exactly, and kept reminding me to make sure I did the edges first so that I had a boarder to work within. I can show you how it's done if you'd like? Help you get to started."

"I think that would be for the best," Patsy agrees, accepting the paintbrush Delia passes to her. "But I really do think we had better put some old newspapers down before we start, just in case. We wouldn't want to get paint anywhere it doesn't belong."

Delia eyes her curiously for a moment, her head tilting to the side when she asks, "Are you doubting my technique and implying I'll make a mess?"

"Of course not," Patsy retorts quickly, her mouth curling into a sheepish grin as Delia stares her down. "But I'm afraid I might," she confesses in a low voice. "I wasn't joking when I said Sister-Winifried was a Picasso with the poster-paints... but I may have purposely omitted the part of the story where she insisted on taking over the square-dance posters because I was making far too much mess in the craft-room."

Delia bursts into a fit of giggles at her admission and plucks the paintbrush from Patsy's hand.

"Well, we'll have no mess on my watch, Pats," Delia says, reaching down to drag a stack of newspapers out from under the table and passing one to Patsy to begin unfolding. "Only clean lines and even coatings will be acceptable" she adds, tapping Patsy flirtatiously on the bottom with her folded newspaper, and grinning cheekily over her shoulder as Patsy gasps in shock before heading over to the wall and beginning to line the floor with a smile on her face.

"I think we've made quite a job of it," Delia comments approvingly later that afternoon when they've all but finished. "It looks lovely in here with the sun shining in through that window, doesn't it?"

Patsy nods, stepping back into the centre of the room to get a better overall look. "I definitely think we've made the right choice," she agrees, letting her eyes trail over every inch of their work. "Oh no," she adds a second later, hurrying over to the corner of the room next to the window. "I fear we've missed a rather important spot."

"What? Where?" Delia demands in disbelief, darting at once over to Patsy's side, her eyes wildly searching for the part they've missed.

"Right..." Patsy begins, pointing out towards the wall with her paintbrush. "...there," she adds with a playful laugh, swiftly turning her paintbrush on Delia and leaving a streak of yellow paint across her cheek.

Delia shrieks at the unexpected move, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open in utter surprise. "I can't believe you just did that, Patsy Mount," she replies in an astounded breath, her lips quirking into a small, incredulous smile.

"I just knew yellow was your colour, Deels," Patsy jests with stifled laughter, stepping backwards as Delia points her paintbrush at her.

"You really are a dark horse, Pats," Delia murmurs calmly before launching forward without warning and swiping Patsy's arm with her brush.

She bursts into a hearty laugh at Patsy's equally shocked expression, before poking out her tongue tauntingly – a wordless challenge – and darting just out of reach as Patsy hurries after her with her brush at the ready.

As the afternoon sun gives way to the growing shadows of dusk, the only the sound that can be heard echoing from their flat is the noise of their joyous laughter.

It's with the help of Peter Noakes and Tom Hereward that Patsy and Delia manage to successfully transfer all of their belongings into their flat in one hard-working afternoon. Tom lets them have use of his bus, helping Patsy to pack things up and move them over from Nonnatus House, while Peter helps Delia to put together their bed frames and move all of the furniture into the correct place.

By the time Peter and Tom bid them farewell and leave them to the peace and quiet of their new home that evening, Patsy and Delia are exhausted; happy, but exhausted nonetheless from their long week of settling in.

They sit at their little table in front of the window sharing fish and chips, and staring around the room in wonder.

"We really did it, Pats," Delia beams, turning to meet blue eyes. "This place is actually ours, and here we are, alone, just being together. Isn't it wonderful?"

Patsy lets out a relieved breath and smiles, reaching over to cover Delia's hand with her own. "It's perfect."

"The only thing that might get a little taxing is having to move that bedside table each night so we can push our beds together, and then having to put them back again each morning," Delia says, noting the annoying reality of their facade with tired disdain, and hating the way their home still isn't, or won't ever be, entirely just their own.

They'll always have to play the part for any prying eyes that may stumble upon them, always hiding away the part of themselves that wants to be free the most.

Patsy purses her mouth together sympathetically, understanding Delia's burst of frustration. "Small sacrifices, I suppose," she offers up with a hint of a smile. "At least we've found a way to be together, Delia, just like we wanted."

"I'm sorry," Delia murmurs, squeezing Patsy's hand at the reminder. "I don't mean to be a sourpuss, it's just... difficult sometimes. But I am happy that we have this place to be together, truly, I am."

"I think we're both just a little tired," Patsy comforts with a smile, gently drawing her hand away from Delia's so that she can crumple up the paper containing the remainder of their supper before getting up and putting it in the bin.

Delia follows Patsy's lead, drawing the curtains closed before heading over to where their beds are placed and pulling the bedside table from between them and setting it off against the wall. She flashes a smile at Patsy and waits for Patsy to come over and help before she pushes their beds together, eliminating any space between them.

"There, much better," Delia declares, curling her fingers around Patsy's wrist and tugging her close.

Patsy goes with the movement, letting herself fall against Delia's smaller frame, and smiles down at her reassuringly before leaning forwards to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

"Let's get changed into our pyjamas, darling, and then we can curl up together and forget about the rest of the world, if only for a few hours," Patsy murmurs lovingly, her lips brushing against Delia's hairline as she peppers her face with tiny kisses; her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her chin, and finally her soft, waiting lips.

When she finally pulls back to meet Delia's gaze, Patsy's greeted with a beautiful, content smile, and eyes that glimmer with happiness and a hint of hope.

It's that little hint of hope that helps them both sleep soundlessly.

Patsy wakes just as dawn is breaking, her eyes fluttering open to the watch the remaining darkness give way to the glowing, morning sunlight. Her lips curl into a sleepy smile as she realises where she is; her arm curled protectively around Delia's waist and her nose nuzzling into the soft skin at the nape of Delia's neck.

She takes a moment to breathe her in, letting her senses fill with the heady scent of Delia's lingering lavender perfume, and feel the comforting warmth of Delia body nestled closely against her own. There's no need to rush on this morning, and Patsy allows herself to take the time she's never had before and delicately traces her fingertips over the smooth skin of Delia's arm. Her caress is feather-light as she follows the lazy motion back down, her eyes watching her movement intently, imprinting the peaceful moment to memory as her fingers repeat their loving path over and over again.

Delia sighs contentedly, stirring slightly only to relax back into slumber as Patsy draws her impossibly closer, ghosting her lips to the sweet spot where Delia's neck curves into her shoulder.

Patsy lies that way for a short while, letting her body wake up slowly and soaking Delia in. She listens to the soothing, steady rhythm of Delia's breathing and takes the time to fully appreciate the novelty of getting to wake up next to the woman she loves. It's such a simple pleasure, and yet Patsy knows just how precious moments like these will always be between them. They'll have to learn to cherish the intimate moments they share protected inside the walls of their flat, because once they step back outside into the real world, Patsy knows they'll have to slip their masks back into place and be ready to act as if everything is as it's expected to be. Two female nurses; friends, sharing a flat, rather than the loving partnership they truly are.

It's that knowledge that makes Patsy want to treasure their love even more, to always let Delia know in any small way that she can just how genuinely happy she is to be with her and share such an overwhelming connection. To utterly embrace being truly known and loved, and being able to return that love in kind.

She slips out from their bed as cautiously as she can, an idea whirring loudly in her head as she carefully tries not to wake Delia as she dresses and pulls on her shoes. It's with slight reluctance that she leaves their home, lingering for a moment in the doorway to ensure Delia is still asleep before pulling the door closed behind her.

By the time Patsy returns, the sun is slowly rising high in the sky, its rays warm and bright and lighting up the streets of Poplar, preparing people for their day. It makes her smile to herself as she re-enters the flat just as quietly as she left, relieved to find Delia still sleeping peacefully.

With soft footsteps she pads her way over to the window and gingerly plucks the jug from the ledge, and sets about making Delia's morning one to remember.

When Delia finally wakes, her eyes squinting against the light trickling in through the window, it's to the smell of fresh coffee floating through the air. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and pushes herself upright, a smile forming on her lips as she takes in the sight of a beautiful bunch of white chrysanthemums arranged in the jug on the windowsill, their silhouette illuminated by the sun's angelic glow.

Delia allows herself to be drawn over to them as she rises from the bed, her fingers reaching out to rub over the silky softness of their petals, and lets her eyes fall shut as she dips her head down to breathe them in.

It's with a blissful smile lighting up her eyes and creating dimples in her cheeks, that Delia turns to find Patsy watching her from the armchair they'd tucked away in the corner.

"Good morning," Patsy murmurs bashfully, her smile fond and her eyes soft and full of adoration as she clasps a cup of coffee in her hands.

Delia sighs happily at the sight of her. "Good morning," she echoes, dropping her hand away from the flowers and languidly strolling over to Patsy.

"Sleep well?" Patsy asks as she watches Delia come closer.

"Like a baby," Delia replies, her eyes never straying from Patsy's gaze as she braces her hands on the arms of the chair and presses forward to brush a gentle kiss to Patsy's lips. "And I can't think of a better way to wake up," she adds pulling away slightly with an awestruck smile. "Fresh flowers, brewed coffee, and you."

Patsy blushes at the sentiment. "It's all rather pleasant, isn't it?" she says in a dreamy breath, watching as Delia fetches herself a cup of coffee. "Falling asleep in each others arms and waking the same way, no prying eyes upon us."

"I told you it'd be easy," Delia hums with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee and glancing over at the clock. "What time are you on shift today?"

"I have to leave shortly," Patsy replies, standing up from the armchair and settling her now empty cup on the table. "I have to get my bike back to Nonnatus before my shift and see if Fred is back on the scene to replace the wheel, otherwise I'll be walking to all my appointments."

Delia grimaces slightly at the mention of the puncture. "I'm terribly sorry about your bike, Pats," she says with a frown. "It wasn't my intention to make your day any harder or any longer than it has to be."

"Don't be silly, Delia, it was an accident," Patsy chastises softly, reaching out to squeeze at her elbow. "I'm sure one of the nuns will let me borrow a bike until mine is back in full working order."

"I hope so," Delia responds, watching as Patsy leans in close to the mirror and finishes pinning up her hair before fixing her little red hat into place.

"Everything will be fine, Deels, stop worrying," Patsy says, noting the way Delia's brow is still furrowed slightly, and moves to picks up her bag and slip into her grey nurses coat. "Now, come wave me off so I can start my day on a high."

Delia shakes her head fondly as Patsy passes over her coat and then extends her hand out, waiting for Delia to take it before leading her through the quiet hallway and out onto the deserted street.

"What time do you start today?" Patsy questions as she releases Delia's hand, not daring to chance their newfound happiness by raising the suspicions of any unexpected prying eyes.

"I still have an hour before I have to leave," Delia replies, her gaze glancing around to ensure they're completely alone before she takes a step closer to Patsy and reaches out to do up the button she's missed on her coat. She smooths her hands up along Patsy's arms then and back down her shoulders, tucking her red scarf in neatly before grasping at her coat collar and giving a gentle, affectionate tug. "I don't want you catching cold," she murmurs in explanation, her eyes softening with adoration as she gives Patsy a timid smile before letting her hands drop away again.

Patsy flashes Delia a thankful smile in return before loading her bag onto her bike and clasping the handlebars. "I'll see you this evening?" she asks unsurely, still not quite used to their new reality even though deep down she knows that she will.

"Of course, you fool," Delia retorts in an amused breath. "Now, off to work with you. I don't want you being late on account of me."

"Until this evening then," Patsy says with a happy grin, wheeling her bicycle to face the right direction so that she can begin her morning journey to Nonnatus House, and feeling her heart expand with utter joy as she glances back to see Delia watching her depart with a wave and a beaming smile.

She can feel the excitement radiating from Delia the second she steps back into their flat later that evening, and it makes Patsy raise her eyebrow questioningly as Delia's eyes meet hers.

"You'll never guess what, Pats," Delia exclaims with a giddy smile, reaching out to take the bag from Patsy's hand and immediately depositing it onto the table.

Patsy shrugs out of her coat and hangs it up before letting Delia grasp her hand and draw her further into the room. "Whatever happened to my promised greeting of 'welcome home' after a hard day's work?" she teases, her mouth curving into a smile at Delia's uncurbed elation.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," Delia mimics with a cheeky grin, quickly pushing up on her toes to press a chaste kiss to Patsy's cheek.

Patsy smiles in response to the gesture and draws Delia's hand up to her lips so that she can dust a kiss to the back of her knuckles. "Hello," she greets fondly, feeling her heart race as Delia blushes coyly at her touch.

"Guess what?" Delia repeats with emphasis, indicating for Patsy to actually venture a guess as she pulls her hand free and moves to stand in front of an object covered by a white-sheet.

"I couldn't possibly, not when everything appears to be as it was," Patsy jests, her lips pressing together into a playful smirk. Delia frowns back at her response, making Patsy chuckle and hold her hands up in defeat. "My apologies, darling. What do you have there," she drawls out, taking a second to think about her answer. "Well, it's not big enough to cover a bike, so I'm assuming that's not it... what about new china? That geometric set we passed by the other day when we went to fetch the paint?"

"No, it's not a bike, don't fear," Delia replies with a soft laugh. "And no, it's not that china that caught my eye the other day." Patsy lets out a defeated breath, her mind utterly at a loss for what else it could be, and shrugs her shoulders at Delia. "Close your eyes," Delia orders, her eyes gleaming. "I want it to be a surprise."

Patsy smiles fondly and shakes her head at their little charade but closes her eyes as she's been bid to do, and waits patiently for the reveal.

She hears the rustling sound of the sheet being pulled away and then the room is silent for a beat before it's filled with the upbeat notes of music. Her eyes instantly flutter open to find Delia's, and she can tell she's grinning like a fool when Delia beams back at her and extends her hand, drawing Patsy to her so that they can dance together to the fun rhythm of Chubby Checker's The Twist.

As the song finishes and is replaced by the soft scratching of the record spinning aimlessly, Patsy releases a joyous laugh. "Surprised?" Delia asks as she moves to lift the needle off and put it back in its place.

"Quite," Patsy replies with another chortle of laughter. "Wherever did you manage to find an affordable record player?"

"It was in that little charity shop I pass each day on the way to The London," Delia explains with a smile. "I saw it in the window on my lunch break and just had to go in and ask about it. Apparently it had been donated this morning by a poor gentleman who'd lost his wife to cancer." Delia pauses, frowning sadly. "The record player had been a gift for her and he couldn't stand the thought of it being in the house if she wasn't going to be there for him to dance with any more. He made the owner promise to sell it to somebody who would dance with their love at every chance they got, and I assured him that my partner and I were just the couple to look after it. So, he let me have it for a good price, and now we won't just have to dance together in our heads."

Patsy purses her lips together sadly at the thought of the man who's lost his wife, her heart aching with the notion that he would now be alone, cruelly forced apart from his life's companion. She and Delia didn't have the perfect situation, but they still had each other, and they were still finding a way to be together despite all the odds against them.

Once again Patsy feels a familiar stirring in her stomach, her heart steeling with determination to cherish what she and Delia have, and so she moves over to lift the needle back onto the record, filling the room with music again. "Well, now that we can, we must always dance when we have the chance," Patsy murmurs, taking Delia's hand and pulling her close. "In honour of their love, and to celebrate ours."

Delia lets her body follow Patsy's pull, and smiles warmly at her as Patsy holds her close for a long moment, taking an extra second to truly savour what they have before stepping back and twirling Delia to the music. She releases a gleeful giggle as Delia shrieks happily and spins with all her might, and for the rest of the evening they find a comforting contentment as they sway in each other's arms, more than happy to let themselves get lost in the hypnotic rhythm of the music.

Despite all of the chaos created by Marlene, Fred and Violet get married on a mild Friday afternoon, just as planned. Their ceremony at the local church is only small, an intimate gathering of their family members and their closest friends, and yet it's an affair that feels larger than life, filled to the seams with love and happiness.

Patsy sits next to Delia during the ceremony, on the row behind the nuns, with their shoulders touching as they press as close together without seeming out of place to anyone who may glance their way. It takes all of Patsy's strong will to keep her eyes forward and not constantly glance over at Delia who looks utterly lovely in her simple, white and blue spotty dress, with her soft, white cotton cardigan draped across her shoulders like a shawl.

She holds out quite well until Delia's hand stealthily slips into hers and squeezes as they watch Fred and Violet begin to share their vows. Patsy feels Delia's thumb stroking lovingly against her skin as Fred and Violet repeat their 'I-do's' to one another, and it's at that point that Patsy can no longer resist her temptation. Her eyes glance down to their entwined hands before she flicks her gaze up and sneaks a glance at Delia, her heart skipping a beat as Delia's beautiful blue eyes meet her own and instantly mirror back at her the adoration and longing she feels rushing through her veins.

After the ceremony finishes, they follow along with everybody as the group heads towards Nonnatus House for the after-party, their hands bumping together every few steps they take as they both resist the urge to just tangle their fingers together and hold hands like they want to.

The nuns have prepared a fine spread in honour of Fred and Violet's marriage, and after the cake is cut, the large living-space of Nonnatus house fills with music and the group slowly disperses into smaller parties. It's at this point that Patsy gets momentarily separated from Delia as Timothy asks her to dance with a charming, boyish smile and a cheeky glint in his eyes.

She lets Timothy lead, ducking her head under his arm as he attempts to spin her and laughing when he clumsily lets go of her hand. Dr. Turner steps in then, drawing Mrs. Turner into his arms and commanding Timothy to watch and copy his dancing technique, shooting Patsy a thankful wink for indulging his growing son.

As her dance with Timothy comes to an end, Patsy catches sight of Delia with Barbara, Sister-Mary Cynthia, Nurse Crane and Marlene, all surrounding the newly married Mrs. Buckle as she holds out her hand to show off the late engagement ring Fred had surprised her with the evening before the ceremony.

Patsy hears their hushed murmurings of awe as she moves closer, and it's only as she reaches the group that she notices the thinly veiled distant look that's overcome Delia's expression, the radiant smile that had lit up her beautiful eyes only an hour earlier replaced with a forlorn sadness.

Her brow furrows in concern at the sudden, unexpected change in Delia's demeanour, and as she steps in next to Barbara to join the group, Patsy feels her gaze instantly drawn to the way Delia is fingering the chain around her neck. She feigns a smile at Mrs. Buckle, pretending to be involved in the conversation before sneaking a glance back over at Delia, watching as her thumb and forefinger tightly clasp the ring that hangs from her necklace as her gaze blindly stares at a spot just over Mrs. Buckle's shoulder.

The sight makes Patsy's heart clench achingly in her chest, knowing at once the reason behind Delia's sorrowful expression as her mind floods with a memory not all that long passed.

It had felt like she'd come so close to losing Delia for good, all that talk of being like ghosts and taking the easy way out with marrying a nice chap like they were expected to, and despite her promise the previous evening that they'd find a way to be together, Patsy can't help but feel like she's made a vow she won't ever be able to honour in the light of day.

Of course they'd find time to be together if they tried, but Patsy knows their relationship consists of stolen moments. She also knows that Delia's desires for something more aren't unreasonable, in fact she wants more too, yearns for it daily even, but Patsy knows the reality that prevents them from just throwing caution to the wind. She saw the results that trying to just be had for Mr. Amos, and she knows it was a moment of freedom that's only led him to a lifetime of pain now that he's been forced back into his darkness.

And yet despite all of the warning signs telling Patsy to remain cautious, she can't help but feel the need to prove herself to Delia in some way; to prove that what they have isn't just any old thing to her, that it's quite the opposite in fact.

Patsy doesn't have much from her childhood in the terms of material things, but one thing she has in abundance is memories, some she purposely buries and tries not to revisit, but also wonderful, happy memories that she often dreams about.

The memory that fills her head now is one of her mother crying after losing her wedding ring and her father drawing her into his arms and telling her not to worry, that the ring was just a token of their love, and that although the ring may be lost, their love wasn't, it still remained just as deeply and that was what mattered the most. His wise words had made her mother's tears stop instantly, and she had smiled and told her father she was a lucky woman, to have somebody love her so.

Patsy had thought it a sweet, sappy moment as she witnessed it as a young girl, but now she finds herself understanding the true sentiment behind her parents exchange, and it sets a rather bold plan stirring in her mind.

If Delia is surprised by her presence outside the Nurses' Home later that evening she hides it well, instead she takes Patsy's wrist and tugs her gently behind her as she leads her into her room, making sure to close the door behind them and flick across the lock.

Patsy watches silently as Delia hangs up her coat and hat, and unbuttons the top button on her uniform before filling a glass with Bourbon.

"Do you want one?" Delia finally says, lifting her eyes to Patsy's. When Patsy shakes her head in response Delia merely shrugs back at her and downs her own. "I got a letter from my mam this morning, she wrote to tell me my younger cousin Susan got married recently and wanted to know if I'd found myself a handsome chap yet to settle down with yet."

"Delia..." Patsy breathes pleadingly taking a tentative step towards her, sensing the exhaustion in Delia's tone as she watches her shoulders sag, her eyes glassy with tears when they turn back to meet Patsy's gaze.

"I don't know what to write back," Delia rushes out, halting Patsy's movement and preventing her from saying anything more. "That's a lie actually," she adds a moment later, shaking her head. "I want to write back and tell her that I've fallen in love with a beautiful woman and that I'm happy, but I know I can't because she won't understand. Nobody will, Pats, and it's not fair because all I want is to settle down and get married like everybody else, but because I want to do it all with you, I can't. It's just not fair, Patsy. It's not fair at all."

Patsy closes the gap between them as Delia's tears finally overwhelm her and escape down her cheeks in waves. She pulls Delia into her arms and shushes her, murmuring words of comfort and letting her lips delicately place loving kisses against the crown of Delia's head.

When Delia's sobs have quietened slightly, Patsy draws back to find her eyes, her hands reaching up to cup Delia's face and brush the last few tears rolling down her cheeks away with the pads of her thumbs.

"It's not fair, Delia. None of it is, and I feel the same way that you do," Patsy agrees softly, her eyes willing Delia to believe her. "But that doesn't mean that what we have is worth any less than everybody else's love." She drops a hand from Delia's face then and reaches into her pocket, pulling it back out to reveal a simple gold chain holding a beautiful gold ring.

"Pats..." Delia whispers shakily, her heart racing as Patsy smiles warmly at her, willing Delia to trust her as she unclasps the chain and reaches to place it around Delia's neck.

"I can't buy you an engagement ring for you to tell your mother about, we both know that," Patsy says with a hint of sadness that she quickly shakes away, her fingers lovingly following along the chain that now rests against Delia's skin before drawing the ring out between them slightly. "But I can offer you this ring as a token of my love for you, and hope that it helps you manage to find some contentment in having it close to your heart."

"It's beautiful, Pats," Delia breathes in awe, her fingertips brushing across the light pink stones.

"Not diamonds I'm afraid, as you can imagine they were a little out of my price range," Patsy says with a smile. "Those are rose quartz gemstones, known as 'the stone of the heart'. They're meant to represent unconditional love," Patsy explains further, drawing Delia's eyes back to hers. "I know I don't tell you often enough just how much I care for you, but I want you to know now more than ever that you mean the world to me. You're my heart, Delia," Patsy confesses shyly.

"And you're mine," Delia echoes softly, reaching out to trace her fingertips along Patsy's jawline.

Patsy swallows thickly, dropping her eyes away from Delia's for a second before whispering,"I don't ever want you to doubt what I feel for you."

"I never have for a single moment, you lovable fool," Delia assures with a watery smile, and lets her hand slide up to cup Patsy's cheek. "As beautiful and as treasured as this ring is and always will be to me, I never needed one as a token of your love, Pats. My heart already knows you love me, whether you speak it aloud or not; it's in all that you do when we're together. I'm just so... frustrated..." Delia breathes, her eyebrows furrowed together and a frown on her lips. "That the world won't let us just be, that people haven't figured out quite yet that love should always be cherished and celebrated, no matter who it's between."

"Perhaps one day it will be," Patsy says hopefully, her hand reaching out to hold at Delia's waist and keep her close. "But as we don't know when that day will come, we have to find a way to find peace in what we do have together, Delia, or we'll never truly be happy. And we deserve to be happy, don't we?"

"We do," Delia agrees, nodding her head and moving further into Patsy's arms. "More than anything. I know you're right, Pats, and I'm sorry for letting it bother me, I'm just so proud to be with you and I wish it didn't have to be a secret," Delia replies, pausing to release a deep sigh before forcing herself to let all of her grievances go. "I suppose I should count myself lucky really, that at least I know in my heart what it's like to love and be loved," she murmurs, smiling softly up at Patsy. "That's more than some people ever get."

"Yes, it is," Patsy answers, returning Delia's soft smile and reaching up to brush her thumb lovingly across Delia's cheekbone. "So, no more tears?"

"No more tears," Delia promises, wrapping her arms tighter around Patsy's body and holding her so close that she's sure their hearts must have merged into one. "One day soon we'll find a way to be together, Pats, I know we will."

Patsy doesn't respond with words, instead she gently guides Delia's face up towards her own and dips her head to kiss her sweetly, letting her lips imprint promises against Delia's own.

As the memory begins to fade, Patsy lets her gaze seek out Delia once more, and feels the depth of her sadness reflected in the consuming ache that overwhelms her heart. They may have found a way to be together now that they share their flat, but Patsy knows in her very core that both she and Delia will always long for just that little bit more, and the more that Delia desires more than anything is a marriage that Patsy's unable to give her, no matter how much she may want to.

Luckily for them both, Fred interrupts Violet's showing off of her engagement ring and steals her away to dance. Their departure onto the makeshift dance-floor diverts the attention of the rest of the guests and Patsy uses their distraction to take Delia's hand and lead her away from the party.

Delia follows along behind her with confusion etched on her face, but allows Patsy to lead her up the stairs and into the privacy of the room she used to share with Trixie.

"I'm sorry," Patsy says emphatically, her eyes staring intensely into Delia's own as she implores her to believe her. "From the bottom of my heart I'm sorry, Delia. What do you want me to do to make you happy? Tell me and I'll do it."

"Oh, Pats, come here, sweetheart," Delia breathes out, shaking her head at Patsy's frantic pacing, her eyebrows furrowed together as she reaches out to grasp at Patsy's hand, recognising her insecure panic. "I'm alright, we're alright, I don't need you to do anything more than you already are."

"You're far from alright, Delia," Patsy objects even though she allows Delia to pull her towards her and soothingly run her hands up and down her arms. "You looked positively stormy down there when Mrs. Buckle was showing off her ring."

As Patsy's words fill the stillness of the room, Delia realises that she's fumbled in her role as the strong one lately, that she's allowed Patsy to be the one holding them together with hope. It's a heavy burden, she knows, to feel your partner struggling under the weight of the facade they must adopt, and it isn't fair that she's allowed her sadness to engulf her so and leave Patsy paddling against the overwhelming tides of their daily expectations alone.

"I'm sorry that I can't give you a day like this," Patsy continues as Delia loses herself in thought for a brief moment. "If I could propose properly, I would get down on one knee in an instance, and if I could stand up in a church and marry you in front of everybody and have you as my wife I'd do it in a heartbeat, Deels, but I-"

"I know you would, love," Delia interrupts assuredly, sliding her hand up to squeeze at Patsy's neck and holding her gaze beseechingly. "I am sad, Pats, but not because you haven't done those things, because I know you would if you could. I honestly do." Patsy releases a deep breath, her shoulders deflating at Delia's reassurance, and letting herself draw Delia into her arms, holding her close for a long moment. "I'm sad because we can't," Delia explains as Patsy's eyes meet her gaze once again. "I'll always be sad that we have to hide away, that our friends and family will never know about our love or be able to celebrate it with us."

"So will I," Patsy hums softly, her eyes welling with tears.

Delia brushes her thumb gently against Patsy's cheekbone in response and smiles lovingly up at her. "But as sad as it makes me that we'll never get to experience a day like this, where we proclaim our love for one another in front of everybody who's important to us, I know that in our hearts we are married, Pats," Delia murmurs undoubtedly, her eyes soft and full of unbridled love and her smile happy and content. "And that's all that truly matters."

Patsy sniffles at hearing Delia echo her words from the previous week back at her, the sentiment behind them still as true now as it was then. "I love you," she whispers, staring longingly into Delia's mesmerising blue eyes.

"I love you too," Delia replies instantly, the words falling from her mouth with a natural ease, and pressing up onto her toes to kiss Patsy deep and slow, and letting her touch convey all of the emotions that are too big and too overwhelming to fit into the simplicity of words.

When they return back to the party downstairs, there's a newfound serenity between them now that they've finally come to fully accept and cherish what they have, even if they are more than aware of the limitations that still surround them.

They join in with the dancing taking place, smiling brightly and laughing along with everybody, and despite not being able to dance together during the slow dance – Patsy partnering with Fred and Delia with Tom – their eyes don't leave each other for a single second. A loving smile is shared between them as if they're the only two people in the room, and they both know in their hearts, that on this day, they've become united as one.

Patsy imagines this is how all newlyweds feel on the eve of their wedding, their hearts racing, their palms sweating, their breathing shallow and their stomachs fluttering with nervous excitement.

Her fingertips itch with the need to touch, an urge that is only intensified as Delia's longing gaze reflects back into her own. A beat of stillness passes between them, the only sound in their flat is the noise of their rapid heartbeats thundering in their ears, and then they're stepping into each other, hands reaching out timidly and mouths sliding together in desperate wanting.

Their desire is unrestrained as their love for one another overwhelms them, and for the first time they allow themselves to truly let go of their control and come together.

Patsy releases a shaky exhale as Delia parts from her lips, her eyes heavy-lidded and her head spinning as Delia tentatively slides her hands from their position on Patsy's waist up along her back until her fingertips are toying with the zipper of her spotty dress.

"May I?" Delia asks in a coy whisper that leaves Patsy more than a little breathless.

Patsy swallows away the dryness creeping into her mouth and darts her tongue out across her lips, nervously nodding her head in response. "Yes," she whispers back as though they're sharing a secret that only they know.

Delia smiles softly back at her, her fingers instantly dragging the zipper down and exposing Patsy's warm flesh to the cool night air. Exploring fingertips stroke daringly against her bare skin, travelling down along the ridges of her spine, and Patsy feels herself tremble at the sensation, an appreciative moan slipping past her lips into the stillness of the room.

"Delia..." she whimpers apprehensively, a plea for Delia's mouth to return to her own and keep her anchored in the intimacy they're about to embark in.

The kiss she receives is soft and slow, letting her feel each press of Delia's lips against her own and reminding her that she is safe and free to let go and give in to her desires. Delia's eyes seek hers out again, wordlessly checking that she's okay to keep going, and when Patsy nods in response she feels Delia's hands beginning to guide her dress down her arms.

With her dress pooled at her feet, Patsy releases a shuddering breath, her cheeks flushing heatedly under Delia's intense gaze, and watching as Delia's eyes trace the lines and curves of her body appreciatively.

"You're so beautiful, Pats," Delia confesses in a hushed murmur, her voice full of awe at the sight before her.

Patsy blushes all the more at the compliment, feeling shy and vulnerable as she stands there exposed under the intensity of Delia's appraisal. It makes her fidget slightly, and Delia's mouth curls into a knowing smile as Patsy drops her gaze away from hers.

"Don't," Delia pleas gently, her hand reaching out to cup Patsy's cheek, lifting her head back up so that their eyes can meet. "I want to see you," she says, blushing at her own confession. "And I want you to see me too, Pats."

Patsy feels her pulse racing under her skin, her breathing rushing out from her lungs in a heavy exhale as Delia takes her hands in her own and guides Patsy's hands to the buttons on her dress. She gives Patsy a small nod of encouragement and then lowers her hands, giving Patsy free reign to either take the next step between them or put a stop to what they're doing.

Her fingers shake as she takes a deep breath in, steeling her resolve as she fumbles to undo the buttons, her eyes flicking between the task at hand and Delia's gaze to ensure she's making the right move.

Delia just smiles tenderly at her in response, letting Patsy have full control of the situation, and then feels her eyes flutter shut as Patsy's hands boldly skate across her skin, drawing her dress down her body and stepping forward to press a trail of soft kisses along the skin she exposes; down Delia's neck, across her collarbones and finally to press a lingering kiss to her chest, right over her erratically beating heart.

"I love you," Patsy whispers against her skin as Delia moans at her touch, dragging her lips back up to find Delia's own and letting her hands eagerly explore the soft dips and curves of Delia's waist.

Her skin is alight in the wake of Patsy's adoring caresses, and Delia feels her body grow weak in Patsy's arms as she echoes back, "I love you too."

They exchange gasps of pleasure as they slowly and daringly begin to explore each other's bodies, everything except for them fading away into nothingness as they rid themselves of the final barriers between them and clumsily make their way to their awaiting bed.

On the one year anniversary of the day they moved into their flat, Delia arrives home from her shift at The London to find Patsy sitting on a blanket in the middle of the floor with a basket of wine, bread and cheese, in a makeshift picnic much like they had on the day they'd first set eyes on the place.

"Welcome home, my love," Patsy says, smiling up at her and holding out a glass of white wine for Delia to take. "Happy anniversary."

Delia lets out a happy laugh and smiles brightly, her cheeks crinkling with her adorable dimples. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart," she returns, accepting the wine and clinking her glass with Patsy's as she settles down next to her on the blanket.

It's been a year filled with love and happiness, and a few frustrating realities, but mostly joyful contentment, and they can't help but reminisce over the memories of their first year of living together as they indulge in the food Patsy has prepared.

They trade kisses as they tidy away their picnic, settling themselves in for the night, and as Delia returns from the bathroom changed out of her uniform and into her pyjamas, Patsy presents her with a gift.

"Oh, Pats," Delia says in surprise, accepting the gift and then shooting Patsy a doleful look. "I feel terrible now, I didn't get you anything."

Patsy just smiles fondly at her and urges her to open it. "Don't worry, Deels, it's more a gift for the both of us to enjoy anyway."

She watches then as Delia carefully unties the ribbon, and then peels open the wrapping paper before drawing out the record and looking it over with excitement. "Aww, love, it's our song," she murmurs in awe as she stares down at the record case of The Drifters 'Save The Last Dance For Me'.

"It's our song, and yet we've never been able to dance together to it," Patsy comments, remembering all of the times they've danced with kind chaps and stared longingly at each other over their shoulders while this song played in the background. "I want to dance with you," she adds with a warm smile.

"A foxtrot or a waltz, even a tango?" Delia quips, a smile lighting up her face as she recalls the memory of the square dance, where all they wanted was to share a simple moment together.

Patsy beams back at her and nods. "Whatever you desire, my love," she says, taking the record from Delia's hand and placing it on the record player. As the first notes of the song fill the space of their flat, she steps back towards Delia and holds out her hand. "May I have this dance?"

"You may," Delia replies with a happy giggle, slipping her hand into Patsy's own and letting herself be drawn into the familiar, comforting embrace of Patsy's arms.

They sway and twirl together to the music, smiling and laughing happily as they sing the words along to each other, and find contentment in knowing that they're exactly where they're meant to be; that their hearts have found the only home they're ever going to need.