Here’s a fluffy little fic inspired by a gif set MissBergmans posted on Tumblr after S7Ep4.  You can find her blog here.  I’m grateful for both the gifset and her generosity in allowing me to include this here.

This ficlet was so much fun to write I wrote it in (for me)record time!  It’s not all original, I have to admit.  The italicized dialogue is directly from the episode written by Heidi Thomas and Lauren Klee.  The silly nonsense part is all me.

The old wood of the file cabinet drawer closed with a satisfying scrape.  One more task completed, Shelagh thought.  She mentally ticked off another item from her list of tasks to complete and felt a smug smile lift her lips.  She shook the smile off and scolded herself.  “Vanity is a sin, Shelagh Turner.  It’s required of us all to perform to the best of our abilities.”

She heard his footsteps before he came through the door to the maternity home, and she looked up expectantly.  Patrick swung into the room, his arms swinging jauntily.  Oh, he did look quite handsome in his new suit.  This new slim cut did suit him.

And he knew it, she reminded herself.  Apparently, she was not the only one prone to vanity.

He grinned at her and she felt the blush rise in response.  They still enjoyed the connection they felt at work, even after four years of working together at the surgery, but this afternoon she felt a bit more tingly than might be appropriate in the workplace.  

“Here is Sister Monica Joan’s referral letter,” she told him, holding the paper out to him.  “Mr. Greswell doesn’t have a very long waiting list.”

“The sooner, the better, I think.”  He unfolded the letter, checking its contents.  “Before she decides to flee Nonnatus House disguised as a washerwoman.”  He grinned at his own joke.

Shelagh shrugged and tried to disguise a giggle as a sigh.  Confidence was so appealing.  “She needs to be accompanied to hospital by someone she can trust and it sounds as though Sister Julienne is in her bad books.  Let’s see when they can fit her in.  I’ll take her myself is she hasn’t come ‘round to the notion.”

He smiled in approval, and Shelagh relaxed.  She wasn’t sure what he was up to, but she was sure there was some sort of subtext to his demeanour today.  Maybe she was just imagining it.  Patrick’s behaviour was always entirely appropriate.

He reached out to press her forearm, a simple gesture of agreement, but she felt his fingers squeeze her flesh ever so suggestively, and when he step past her on his way to his office she was certain he deliberately brushed up against her breast.  A thrill ran down her spine and she flushed a brighter pink.  

She turned about just in time to watch as he swaggered up the last step.  He turned, catching her staring at him and gave her a Cheshire grin.  

“Well, are you coming, or aren’t you?” he beckoned.

What happened next, behind the locked door of his office, may not have been entirely appropriate after all.