Author’s Note: My science is off here, friends. I suppose that’s one of the reasons why we call it fanfiction. And all knowledge of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich comes from the internet. But it’s on my list of things to do (certain people should take note).

This story is set very early during Patrick and Shelagh’s engagement.

And apologies for the terrible Cockney accents. Poor Fred deserves better than I give him.

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Eight wolf cubs bounced along the sidewalk waiting for the bus to take them across the river to the Royal Observatory. The promise of a field trip, and in the evening no less, made them all particularly boisterous. Watching over the boys, Dr. Patrick Turner turned to Fred Buckle with a pained expression. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Fred? It’s like herding cats!”

“Where’s your courage, Doc? Afraid of a few young boys? Look at Sis-, I mean, Miss Mannion here. Calm in the center of the storm, she is. Always has been.” He leaned in to add, “Sorry, Miss. Hard to break old habits, ain’t it?” Realizing his unintended pun, he reddened.

“That’s quite all right, Fred, really. And please call me Shelagh. I’d like to think we’re friends,” Shelagh smiled at him. Of all those from Nonnatus, Fred seemed to be the easiest to be with since the “Great Change,” as he called it. His ingenuous nature and straightforward approach to life made everyone feel comfortable around him and Shelagh appreciated the complete acceptance he offered. Which was exactly why she volunteered herself and Patrick for tonight’s event.

Fred puffed out his chest, the too-tight uniform stretching over his great belly. “Not tonight, Miss Mannion. On duty, y’know.”

“Alright, lads, single file,” Patrick called out. “The bus is coming ‘round the corner. Gary, you’ll be squashed under the bus if you’re not careful,” he admonished. From the corner of his eye, he noticed an old man pull to the side away from the group. “You can go first, sir.”

“No thanks, guv,” the old man chortled. “Think I’ll wait for the next bus, if you don’t mind.”

“Wise man,” answered Patrick, grinning. He turned to Shelagh. The cubs had all nearly mounted the steps of the bus behind Fred. Smiling, he said quietly, “Ready, Shelagh? It’s not too late to turn back.”

“Ready, Patrick. I’m looking forward to tonight.” Shyly, she smiled up at him and he could feel his heart lurch. The world slipped away when she looked at him like that, her clear eyes revealing depths of her heart only he could see. Swallowing, he held out his hand to help her up the steps and she took it, embracing the chivalric gesture. She climbed the bus, and he regretted the heavy winter coat she wore, disguising her figure. The sight of her lovely legs was a welcome consolation prize, though, and Patrick’s thoughts took a decidedly “un-chaperone-ish” turn.

“Slow down, man,” he told himself. For over ten years Shelagh had devoted herself to the strictures of her Order. He would need to be patient as she grew comfortable with the developing intimacy of their relationship. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to be too patient.

“You comin’ then, mate?” the bus driver called, and Patrick cleared his head and followed her down the aisle.

“Dad! Bagheera says if we look really hard tonight we’ll see three planets!” Timothy called.

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The grounds of the Royal Conservatory were quiet, the crowds long gone. Neither Patrick nor Shelagh were completely certain how Fred had managed to organize this trip to complete the Cubs’ Astronomy badge, but his schemes had rarely led to real trouble, and the two were willing to put their faith in the handyman.

Their trust was rewarded when they arrived at the gates to find them open, and a friendly caretaker there to greet them.

“ ‘ello, Fred! I knew ye’d use that marker up one day. Never expected it to be fer a pack o’ Cubs, I must say!” Barry Piper joked.

“Always happy to fill in when I’m needed, Barry, my man. Though to be ‘onest,” the large man leant in secretively, “I’d always planned on using this favor to court a lady!”

Impatient to move to their first stop, the Cubs grew noisy. “A’right, lads! Follow me. First stop, the old telescope building!”

The tour took the small group to the site of the Great Equatorial Building, the former home of an enormous 28-inch diameter telescope. Damage to the building during the war had led to the transfer of the Observatory to Herstmonceux the year many of the Cubs were born, and the structure bore little resemblance to its days of glory.

The pack wandered about, closely examining the historic photos on the wall. “It looks like an onion!” exclaimed Billy Wegman, whose father was a greengrocer.

“It does, Billy. The dome had to be wider on the bottom to account for the length of the telescope. And there was a balcony built on top, here,” Patrick pointed to the next photograph.

“Why’d they keep changin’ it?” asked Jack. “They’re as bad as me mum. She’s always movin’ the furniture!”

“Scientists have to keep changing,” a voice piped up from the back. Timothy Turner continued, “We can’t keep doing things the same old way, we’d never learn anything that way. Scientists have to be ready to take risks.”

Patrick caught Shelagh’s eye. “That’s precisely right, Tim. Where would we be if we never had the courage to accept change?” He grinned and was rewarded with the light blush that colored her cheeks. This was fun, Patrick realized. Shelagh was hesitant to draw attention to them as a pair, and throughout the evening they had kept a respectful distance from each other. Now, he thought, he would find more subtle ways to flirt with his new fiance.

The walk along the Meridian offered him another chance. A laughing line of Cubs balanced themselves between two hemispheres, sure that one day they would rule the world. Lanterns and torches flickered as the boys darted around each other playfully in the growing dark.

Bagheera called out, “Right. Who can tell me what an orrery is? No, not you, Timothy, someone else this time. Gary, I’m sure you did yer required readin’ before settin’ out this evening. What is an orrery?”

There was a moment’s pause, then Gary responded, “A model of the universe?”

“Precisely. And don’t think I didn’t see you sneakin’ up behind wif the answer, Timothy Turner. Now, we are goin’ to make a human orrery.”

“I think Fred’s found a new word,” Patrick whispered in Shelagh’s ear.

“Patrick,” she scolded. “Shh!”

Fred continued. “Wif eight cubs, plus me, we make nine. I’ll be Jupiter, for obvious reasons.” He patted his belly and glanced around the group of boys. “Billy, you’ll be Mercury, and Timothy you be Venus…”

“Great. Why do I always have to be the girl?” Timothy muttered.

Soon the nine planets were lined up properly in their orbits, varying sized planets and varying distances. “So you can see how each of the planets lies in relation to the others,” Fred seemed quite proud of his successful plan.

“Sorry, Bagheera, but I think there’s something missing from your solar system,” Patrick pointed out.

Fred looked confused.

“The sun, Fred. The solar system won’t work without its center.” Patrick took Shelagh by the hand and led her to the center of the group. Moving beyond the circles, he explained, “It’s the strength of the sun’s gravity that makes the whole thing work. Without the sun, all the other planets would float aimlessly, cold and barren. The sun lets it all make sense.”

“Your hair is like the sun, a bit, Miss,” winked Tommy Bergen, the flirt of the group.

Patrick almost growled at the boy.

“Right, then, last stop, Mr. Tyson’s telescope. Hands at your sides at all times, I’m sure you’ll remember, Cubs. And wif some luck, we’ll see Billy, Tim and me up in the heavens!”

Mr. Tyson, another old friend of Bagheera’s from other times, stood by a magnificent telescope, high on the hill. Patrick noticed that the handsome astronomer bore little resemblance to Fred’s usual acquaintances. The quick lecture, and the stern warning delivered by their fearless leader reminded each of the boys that the rules regarding the telescope were definitely meant to be followed. One at a time, each Cub would have a turn viewing the visible planets, all conveniently located in the same quadrant of the sky.

“Ladies first, gentlemen,” Mr. Tyson invited Shelagh over to the telescope. Patrick followed her, and when she looked at him curiously, he remarked, “I’ll hold your glasses.”

Which of course alerted Mr. Tyson to the fact that “Miss Mannion” was not a heavenly body to be studied.

Shelagh looked up, delighted by the sight of such natural splendor. “Oh, Patrick. Look! If that’s not enough evidence of God’s power, I don’t know what is!”

He laughed and led her away from the pack. “I’m not quite sure now is the time for existential debate, Shelagh. But no one is looking if you want to show me proof of your own…”

“Patrick,” Shelagh scolded.

“Shelagh,” he answered.

“It’s Timothy’s turn next. Pay attention.”

Despite the darkness, Patrick could sense Shelagh inch closer, then felt the brush of her fingers against his. Heat flushed through his body, demanding he take a deep breath to control himself.

“I’m not an adolescent male. I can control this,” he thought.

Unable to resist, Patrick stole a glance. Despite the darkness, he could clearly see a small smile playing on her lips.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” he whispered.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shelagh whispered in return, her eyes alight with mischief.

He glanced over at the pack of cubs mesmerized by the telescope, fighting for their turn. Certain that their attention was far from their forgotten chaperones, Patrick turned to face Shelagh, but was surprised by her own swift movement. A tug on his tie and his face was pulled down to hers for a quick kiss.

She moved away quickly, only narrowly escaping his arms as they reached to hold her closer. He stood there, stunned, until a slow smile crossed his face.

It didn’t look like he would need to be so very patient, after all.

Later, as they corralled eight tired boys on to the bus home, Fred noted, “Wouldnt’ve thought pink was your color, Doctor Turner.”

Puzzled, Patrick looked at Shelagh. ‘Oh dear,” she fretted.

“What? What is it?”

“Lipstick,” she whispered.

With a sheepish grin, Patrick pulled out his handkerchief and erased the traitorous mark away.

“Patrick,” Shelagh worried. “What if one of the boys had noticed? What if one of them saw us?”

With a grin, he squeezed her hand and leant in to whisper, “They’ll have to get their own lipstick.”