Summary: Trixie is getting married. It provokes a bittersweet reaction from Patsy and Delia

Disclaimer: Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

Author's note: This was done as a result of a prompt fic BlueBlueBaby provided me. She wanted a fic where Trixie or Barbara were getting married and Patsy and Delia were guests. Although happy for their friend, it also serves as a reminder to something that they cannot do. This has already been posted on Archive of Our Own.

Unbeta'd - so all mistakes are my own!

"The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world's existence. All these half-tones of the soul's consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are."

― Fernando Pessoa

"So sweetie, I have a huge favour to ask of you," Trixie told Patsy as she breezed into the room they currently shared.

Patsy looked up from the book she was reading and exhaled a large plume of cigarette smoke. She looked dubiously at the blonde nurse. "Go on," she prompted noncommittally.

Trixie sat down on her bed and elegantly crossed her legs. "Well, actually it's two favours darling. But I know I can rely on you."

"I haven't said yes, yet," Patsy reminded her, wondering what she was about to get herself into.

Rather unusually, Trixie picked at a strand on her bedspread nervously.

Patsy sat up a bit more and frowned slightly. "What's up?"

After another hesitation, Trixie took a deep breath. "Patsy, you're my dearest friend. I've been thinking about this a lot." She paused again before looking almost shyly at the tall red-head. "Would you be my maid of honour?" She asked tentatively.

"Me?" Patsy was astonished. Trixie had been abuzz with wedding plans ever since Robert Trenton, a watch commander at Poplar Fire Station had asked her to marry him. Patsy rather liked Bob. He was witty and sharp, and very clearly worshipped the ground Trixie walked on. He was no pushover though. In short, he was just the sort of man Trixie needed.

Trixie nodded shyly. "If you don't mind," she qualified.

Patsy swung herself off her bed and sat down next to Trixie. "Why would I mind? I'm honoured."

Trixie hugged her friend in relief before sitting back a bit. "Well, you've never been one for talking about wedding plans, or weddings in general. I don't want you to do something you're not keen on, through some idea of obligation."

Patsy smiled. Trixie had matured a lot since her disastrous engagement to Tom. "Trixie, I will be delighted to be your maid of honour." She raised her eyebrows airily. "I'll just have to work on making sure that the maid of honour doesn't outshine the bride."

Trixie laughed, relieved and delighted with her best friend. "Oh, I can make sure of that. It will be me picking the dresses after all."

Patsy looked vaguely horrified. "You wouldn't?" She asked in mock concern.

"I may very well," the blonde contradicted before they both laughed again.

"So, you asked for two favours, Trixie," Patsy reminded the other nurse.

"Ah, yes. Well, after last time I realised that I had been somewhat over-ambitious in my wedding plans," Trixie admitted slowly. "Robert is a man of," she hesitated as she searched for the right words. "Practical tastes, but he told me to plan the wedding of my dreams."

"That sounds rather dangerous." Patsy couldn't help herself and was rather relieved when Trixie grinned back knowingly.

"You're absolutely right, sweetie. I do recognise that I could very easily go completely overboard with what I want. I need you to keep me in check."

Patsy winced. "You want me to help you plan the wedding?" It wasn't that Patsy didn't want to. She was genuinely happy for Trixie. But Patsy had simple, classic tastes and was a great believer in the 'less is more' philosophy. A more profound reluctance was seated firmly in the depths of Patsy's mind. It was all very well attending someone else's wedding, but helping to plan it and be very involved would be challenging. It was something she and Delia would never be able to do.

Trixie picked up on Patsy's hesitation instantly. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she qualified.

"Don't be silly. Of course I want to help," Patsy refuted immediately. "But you will need to give me the guidelines that you want to follow. I'll need to know what is and isn't acceptable now so that I can remind you of that once you start getting into detail."

Trixie nodded. "Of course. I would ask you to go and speak with Robert. After all, he is the one paying for the wedding. But I know he'll simply say that I can have whatever I want."

Patsy agreed. "Alright. I will at least attempt to wheedle out the budget from him so I know what would be considered an extravagance."

Trixie smiled wistfully. "That's just it, Patsy. I don't think I want any extravagance. I love Robert for who he is. I don't need a majestic wedding to prove that. What I can't help but worry about is what everyone else is expecting. I know what I'm like. I need you to be constantly reminding me that the wedding is for me and Robert, and not other people."

Patsy smiled genuinely and took the blonde woman's hand in her own. "Now that I can manage with absolute certainty," she confirmed.

Patsy held Delia in her arms as the two women took refuge in the brunette's room. It had been a hectic few weeks and Patsy was exhausted with it all. She had attended bridal shops and florists and a baker to commission a wedding cake. Patsy had been relieved that the groom and best man would be wearing their dress uniforms for the wedding. At least that had saved one thing to organise. This afternoon had included a fitting for dresses that had involved a substantial amount of time standing still whilst the tiniest of adjustments were made.

"I don't think I've ever had so many pins stuck in me before," Patsy grumbled.

Delia grinned. "It can't be any worse than when you tried to pin my dress on me. I was tattooed with puncture marks."

"I was not that bad," Patsy protested, returning the other woman's grin. "Besides, at least I kissed each one better," she continued, her grin turning impish.

Delia batted the redhead's arm playfully. "That was because you inflicted them. I'm not kissing wounds inflicted by someone else."

Patsy raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you'd rather the assistant did it, I can go back. Although she was..."

Delia stopped her with a kiss on the lips. "No one gets to kiss you but me," she muttered.

Patsy smiled into the kiss. "Well, that's more like it," she mumbled back. They enjoyed the embrace for a long few moments before breaking apart.

Patsy sighed wistfully as she lay back on the bed.

"What's up Pats? Surely it can't be that bad being Trixie's maid of honour?"

"No, not at all. It's just..." Patsy trailed off, not wanting to voice her thoughts.

Delia rolled onto one side and rested her head in her hand. "What's bothering you?"

Patsy gave a lop-sided smile as she looked at her lover. "I'm just jealous," she admitted softly.

"Jealous of Trixie?" Delia frowned.

"Jealous that Trixie can marry the one she loves," Patsy clarified, blushing slightly at the admission. She had never been one for big declarations of love. They were not in a position to be able to do that. The single biggest thing she had done was to give Delia a ring. She had managed to secretly purchase it in a jewellers some distance from Poplar and had presented it without fanfare to Delia a short while after Delia had declared that she wanted to marry Patsy. The ring had been lost when Delia was knocked off her bicycle. Patsy hadn't replaced it.

Delia nodded. "I know." She sighed. "But I have to keep thinking that one day, things might be different and that we will be able to wed."

"What if we can't?" Patsy couldn't suppress her pessimism.

"Then we make the best of what we have." Delia brushed a few stray strands away from Patsy's face. "Besides, what's the alternative? That we're not together at all?" She shrugged. "That's not acceptable to me. If this is all we can have, then I will take every second and cherish it. I love you Patience Mount. I would love to be able to shout it from the rooftops. But I don't need a piece of paper to tell me what's already in my heart."

Patsy swallowed, her throat constricting with emotion. "I don't deserve you, Deels," she muttered.

"Yes, you do. So don't start thinking any different." Delia smiled brightly, trying to lift the mood. "So, why don't you tell me about the dress you're going to be wearing. I need to know in advance so I can control the look on my face when I see you on the day." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, provoking a burst of laughter from Patsy, which had been precisely her intention.

Patsy inhaled deeply before exhaling through her mouth in an attempt to calm her nerves. Her pulse was racing and her palms were damp with sweat. They were in a side room of the church, waiting for the signal that all was ready and that they should proceed to the altar. The red-haired nurse had never been more grateful for Sister Julienne's ever calming presence. She did her best to listen to the senior nun and allow the older woman's serene stillness to steady her nerves.

Trixie held Sister Julienne's hand with what could only be described as a death grip. "Oh dear lord. I think I'm going to be sick. My legs are like jelly. How can I walk down the aisle?" She knew she was gibbering nonsense, but she couldn't control herself.

Sister Julienne laid her other hand over the ones already clasped and smiled gently. "Trixie, simply answer me this," she requested calmly. She waited for Trixie to nod before continuing. "Do you love the man you are about to marry?"

Trixie nodded hurriedly before swallowing. "With all my heart," she admitted with a shaky voice.

Julienne's smile widened with love. "Then know this. You are in the house of the Lord, about to undertake the most solemn of vows, with true love in your heart. You may be nervous, but there is nothing to fear. Cherish this occasion, Trixie. Show the world what's in your heart and everything will be perfect. Your friends are here to share your joy in this special day. Embrace the moment."

Trixie gave Sister Julienne a watery smile. "Are you sure you don't mind breaking with tradition and escorting me down the aisle, Sister?"

Trixie had asked the senior nun to perform that task after a long discussion with Patsy. She had been determined that her father would have nothing to do with the wedding. She wanted nothing from the man, and certainly didn't want him to be part of something that would mean so much to her. When she told Patsy this, the two had then talked through a myriad different options, from not being escorted at all, to Sister Mary Cynthia walking down with her. Patsy had suggested this, knowing that prior to her taking vows, the two women had been the closest of friends, and she felt as if she may have usurped Mary Cynthia's position as maid of honour.

Trixie had leapt on the idea. But instead of Sister Mary Cynthia, Trixie thought that Sister Julienne would be the perfect person to fulfil that role. After all, she had been looking out for Trixie ever since she had joined the staff at Nonnatus House. They may have had their differences of opinion, but didn't all families? Trixie considered Sister Julienne to be as close to a surrogate parent as anyone else she knew.

The blonde nurse had nervously approached the nun. She wasn't sure how Sister Julienne would feel with such a change to tradition. She needn't have worried however. Sister Julienne had been delighted and considered it the highest privilege to walk Trixie down the aisle.

"As I told you when you asked me to do this, I don't consider that I am 'giving you away'. I am instead escorting you to take solemn vows before God so that you can embark on the next stage of your life." Sister Julienne smiled warmly. "And to my mind, that has always been the most important element of this particular role."

Trixie's smile became more assured and the woman took a large calming breath. "Thank you, Sister. I don't think there's anyone else who could have reassured me so easily. And it's me that's honoured to have you accompany me down the aisle. You've been a remarkable influence on me." The two women embraced carefully, not wanting to do anything to disturb Trixie's wedding dress or make-up.

Patsy nodded. "I'm grateful too. I'm just as much a nervous wreck as Trixie, and I'm not the one getting married."

"Don't be silly, darling. We would have incinerated a pack of Sobranies and then been just fine. Even if we ended up with clouds of smoke billowing round us as we entered the nave."

Patsy smiled. "You look breathtaking, Trixie. Robert will be speechless."

Trixie had gone for a classic, straight cut white wedding dress with intricate embroidery and beading around the bodice accenting her figure perfectly. Her veil, that was currently flicked back over her head was also a simple affair. The whole effect complimented Trixie's beauty, rather than diverting attention away from it.

Trixie looked at her best friend appraisingly. "Well, for someone who is not supposed to be upstaging the bride, I would say that you are very close to doing just that. You look glorious too."

Patsy looked down at her attire before winking at her friend. "What, this old sack cloth? I'm not even sure I should be allowed to accompany such a vision," she replied self-deprecatingly.

In truth, Patsy looked stunning. Her dress was also simply cut, and almost bronze in colour. It contrasted perfectly with her pale skin and red hair that framed her face in loose waves. Trixie had insisted that Patsy wear her hair down, as it was nearly always seen lacquered into submission in a tight beehive or other neat style.

Sister Julienne smiled at both women. "Are you ready?" She asked.

Patsy squeezed Trixie's hand in support before passing her a bouquet of flowers. She collected her own bouquet and stood at the door before looking at her best friend. "Shall we?" She offered.

Trixie nodded, and Patsy waited a moment as Sister Julienne adjusted the veil. Patsy took a deep breath and opened the door, instantly spotting Reverend Tom Hereward standing at the altar with Robert and his best man. They looked resplendent in their uniforms, and there were several other firemen in their dress uniforms standing in the pews.

As the Wedding March played, Patsy began the slow walk down the aisle, knowing that she had to keep the pace steady so that Trixie could manage her train. Her eyes couldn't help but dart from left to right, looking for recognisable faces in the church. The second she saw Delia, standing next to Phyllis in the second row, her eyes fixed upon her and she swallowed down her emotions. With the tiniest element of imagination, Patsy could picture Delia standing at the altar instead. Her heart pounded.

Delia's breath caught as she turned at the sound of the door opening. Patsy looked devastatingly beautiful. She tried to swallow around the massive lump that had formed in her throat, but she could do nothing but stare as her lover walked down the aisle. Delia could feel tears well in her eyes. It was so easy to imagine Patsy walking down the aisle for her. But this could never be.

Eventually she managed to take a shuddering breath and tried to pull herself together. She was here to celebrate the best day of Trixie's life, not long for the impossible. She was about to tear her eyes away from Patsy when their eyes connected. There was an exquisite sort of agony as they held each other's gaze and Delia wasn't sure if she was even breathing. Patsy grew ever closer but still they did not stop staring at each other. For a few short moments, there was no one else present. It was only as they grew almost level that they both snapped their eyes away, as if at some unheard signal.

Delia started suddenly as she felt a touch on her arm. She turned to see Phyllis smiling at her gently. The older nurse held out a handkerchief. "You wouldn't want your mascara to run," she told her.

Delia nodded gratefully as she took the white square of cloth and dabbed at her eyes carefully. "Trixie looks so beautiful," she murmured, trying to excuse her tears.

Phyllis patted her arm. "They both do," she replied before turning away to watch the wedding party approach the altar.

Delia smiled. Phyllis seemed to know exactly what to say without actually saying anything. Delia was convinced that the senior midwife was more than aware of the extent of her relationship with Patsy, but was simply not interested as long as their personal lives did not encroach on their professional ones. Delia had the feeling that Phyllis was someone who had embraced life to the full. It was clear that the nurse from Leeds was quite happy to lead her life in a way that suited her. It would seem that she was equally happy that others did the same.

The Welsh woman dabbed at her eyes again, and forced herself to concentrate on the ceremony, and the bride and groom. Her gaze couldn't help but drift towards Patsy throughout the service. It was both reassuring and heartbreaking that she caught Patsy doing the same thing.

The reception was in full swing. There was a band playing and the dance floor was crowded with people. It was exactly the sort of reception that Trixie wanted. The guests were relaxed and mingling freely. The bar was busy, although Trixie herself was more than happy with her lemonade. She absolutely wasn't going to break her abstinence, even for this special occasion. Trixie knew herself too well now. She drank to forget. She drank to numb the pain. Today, she was feeling both elated and relaxed. She wanted to remember every last second.

As her husband whisked her expertly across the dance floor, the blonde midwife looked over to where Patsy was dancing and smiled gratefully. Her maid of honour had supported her every step of the way, and Trixie knew there was no way her wedding would have come together so successfully without her help. Trixie noticed a melancholy in Patsy's demeanour as she danced with yet another immaculately attired fireman and sighed, wishing that she could help ease the pain she knew Patsy was feeling.

Patsy was exhausted. Being the maid of honour had made her the target of just about every single man, and a fair few married ones too. She had not had a moment to herself since the band struck up and had been dancing almost continually. She had also been supplied with so many drinks, her head was spinning. As the latest tune ended and she broke apart from her dance partner, she decided that enough was enough and that it was time to take a break. Politely rebuffing the latest requests for a dance, Patsy grabbed her bag and headed out to the back of the hall for some fresh air and a smoke.

The titian-haired midwife groaned as she collapsed into a plastic chair and sighed after lighting her cigarette and enjoying the first deep drag. As she exhaled a large plume of smoke, a tall glass of clear liquid was thrust in front of her face. "I think I've had enough gin," she grumbled wearily.

"Lemonade only, I promise." Delia smiled brightly at her as she sat down next to her lover. She had a similar hi-ball glass and took a deep draught. "You looked like you were in need of something to quench your thirst after all that dancing."

Patsy smiled lovingly at Delia. "I appear to be almost as popular as the bride in respect for requests to dance," she commented. "I'm sorry, Deels. I've barely spoken to you all day."

"It doesn't matter. You've had a very important function to fulfil." Delia, as always, was understanding and resigned to the situation.

Patsy downed her drink thirstily. "Oh, that's hit the spot," she gasped as she finished the glass.

"Do you want me to get you another?"

"Absolutely not. This is the first moment I've had to speak to you. I am not risking you disappearing in there and getting whisked onto the dance floor." Patsy paused a beat. "And I don't want anyone else popping out here and then sitting next to me if you're gone. I'm not sure I have the strength to remain sociable for much longer."

"Thanks, I think." Delia smiled wryly.

Patsy sighed more heavily this time. "I am so pleased for Trixie. She, more than anyone deserves this happiness. But I can't help but wonder what we would do for a wedding," she admitted softly.

"Something understated and intimate, I think," Delia answered, leaning back in her chair and relaxing.

"I always assumed you would want a large affair, with as many people as possible to celebrate." Patsy was quite surprised.

Delia shook her head. "Not really. I would want the people that matter to be there, but I'm not sure that some of the people who matter would ever really understand or support us." Delia remained unconvinced that her family would ever really understand what Patsy meant to her, let alone accept the way Delia had decided to live her life.

In a surprisingly open show of affection, Patsy grabbed the brunette's hand. "So, who would be there then?" Being immersed so heavily in Trixie's wedding had affected Patsy and for the moment, she was in the mood to indulge a fantasy they both shared.

"Well, Trixie obviously. And Barbara. And definitely Phyllis," Delia listed instantly.

"Definitely Phyllis?" Patsy queried.

"Yes. I'm sure she knows more than she lets on. And she has an absolute heart of gold," Delia supplied candidly.

"Definitely," Patsy agreed. "Anyone else?"

"Well I would love for my mam and dad to be there, but mam would never approve of something so radical."

"And your father?"

"To be honest, I just don't know. I wish and hope he would. But he's so old fashioned and traditional about things." Delia exhaled loudly, trying to shake the sadness that had suddenly enveloped her. "What about you? Who would you want there?"

"You and two witnesses sounds like the perfect wedding to me," Patsy shrugged.

"Not your father?" Now that they had begun the conversation, Delia was feeling bold.

"He wouldn't come if I was having a conventional wedding," Patsy demurred. "The most I could expect from him would be a cheque to cover the expenses." She shook her head. "It's all rather depressing really. Even if we could do what we wanted, we can only name a handful of people that we'd either want to attend or we think would attend."

Delia shook her head resolutely. "I think sister Monica Joan would be there, no matter what the bible says."

"As long as there's cake," Patsy agreed with a grin. "But you know, I think some of the other nuns wouldn't be bothered by it. Sister Julienne is less of a traditionalist than she would have us believe."

"And sister Winifred?" Delia asked teasingly.

Patsy laughed. "No. I can't see her embracing our situation with open arms." She was about to speak again when the door to the hall opened. Patsy instantly let go of Delia's hand and the distance between them widened perceptibly. "Trixie! What on earth are you doing out here? Surely you don't want to escape your own wedding?"

Trixie snagged another chair and positioned it so that she could join the other nurses. "Well my excuse was that I was hunting down my maid of honour. But the reality is that I'm gasping for a cigarette and my feet are killing me from all that dancing."

Patsy offered the blonde her pack and they waited until Trixie took her first drag.

"Kick your shoes off if your feet are hurting. I've already taken mine off," Delia advised.

"It's not my shoes sadly. More the amount of times they've been trodden on. But it also nice to take a bit of a breather too. I feel like I've been on my best behaviour for far too long."

"Goodness, that must be killing you," Patsy returned with a grin.

Trixie made no bones about it. "It is," she agreed. She took another large lungful of smoke and then smiled warmly at her two friends. "I also wanted to thank you for helping me so much with the wedding."

"Oh, I've done nothing. It's all Patsy," Delia deflected modestly.

"And who's been the one keeping Patsy sane after she has spent all her energy keeping me sane?" Trixie asked astutely.

Patsy shook her head. "You haven't been that bad."

"I've been awful. But I really did need your help, so I truly am very grateful." She reached forward and clasped Patsy's hand. "This really has been the best day of my life."

"So far," Delia added sagely.

Trixie laughed. "Agreed. And that sounds wonderful too. Thank you both."

The women shared a few moments of companionable silence before Trixie looked regretfully back to the door. "I must go back in shortly, or a search party will be dispatched."

Patsy nodded ruefully. "We should too."

Trixie paused for a moment and then took a deep breath. "Listen you two. I know I've been lucky enough to get married today in front of friends and family. But a piece of paper isn't everything. If, one day, the pair of you want to go out for a special dinner on a particular date, and would like to mark that day as a special one... well just know that I would be honoured to toast that day with you." Trixie's eyes were bright with tears and her voice was tight but she smiled and nodded determinedly. "Now, sweeties I must get back. Don't hide out here all night."

She stood abruptly and left before Patsy or Delia could say anything.

There was silence again for a few minutes. "You know, that's not a bad idea," Delia commended.

"It's certainly an elegant solution," Patsy agreed. "Shall we set a date?"

"Are you asking?"

Patsy grabbed her bag and pulled out a small box. She flipped it open carefully to reveal a ring, nestled into a simple gold chain. "Yes, I'm asking."

~Finis~