So this is Patch 5 of the Pupcake Patchwork series over on AO3. My predecessors pieces are lovely so do go and take a look at them.

'Because the difference is, now, everyone can know.'

Delia could feel Patsy glaring at her, from the chair next to her. But she didn't care. Everyone should know.

And so switching the microphone to her other hand, she raised her champagne glass. "So please join me in a toast. To my bride!"

A grin threatened to split her face in two. Her bride. She still couldn't quite believe it.

"Patience. Elizabeth. BUSBY-MOUNT!" she roared incredulously to whoops and cheers.

But then she turned to her new wife, who was hiding a raging blush behind her hands. Putting down her glass, she prised one of those beautiful delicate hands away from her gorgeous face and held it solemnly, willing Patsy to hold her gaze.

"Because everyone should know. You really are a sort of angel."

She lifted Patsy's hand to kiss her knuckles, but was surprised when Patsy pulled their joined hands towards her and placed a sweet kiss on Delia's instead. A chorus of "Aww"s rose around the room, mingled with applause. Well if anyone had doubted her declaration, Patsy had just reinforced it. And judging from the smirk, the redhead very much knew it. Slipping her fingers under the collar of Patsy's dress shirt, Delia pulled Patsy towards her, intent on kissing the smirk off her face.

But the ringing of a fork against glass curtailed her mission and she took her seat, clasping Patsy's hand amongst the heap of skirts and petticoats in her lap. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Patsy was allowing more public displays of affection today than they'd potentially had in their entire relationship. And though she knew she shouldn't push it, she was loving it. She was loving being allowed to show the world just how in love with this woman she was.

A throat cleared on the other side of Patsy, and she tore her eyes away from her love to watch Richard Mount get unsteadily to his feet.

"Honoured guests. I shan't keep you long, I believe there's a dance floor waiting to be made good use of."

The gathered friends and family chuckled.

"I regret to say that I don't know my daughter, or my new daughter-in-law, anywhere near as well as I should do. And that is my loss. But, I see just how happy you make each other. And I can't put into words how much joy that brings me."

Delia felt the hand in hers squeeze hard. She looked to her favourite face, and even though she was turned away from her, she could see the tightness in her jaw and around her mouth. But Patsy Mount would never cry in public. So she squeezed back, reassuring her love that she was there, and that she understood.

Richard raised his glass. "To Patsy and Delia."

I love how your heart beats,

Whenever I hold you

I love how you think of me

Without being told to

I love the way your touch is always heavenly

But darling most of all

I love how you love me.

Patsy felt giddy as she swayed with Delia in her arms. Even just a few years ago, the thought that she'd be sharing her first dance with a woman she intended to spend the rest of her life with would have made her laugh out loud. But here she was.

"Thanks for blowing my cover there, love," she snarked.

"Oh will you stop it," Delia giggled, swatting Patsy's shoulder. "More than half the people here know you're a big softie really."

Glancing around the room, Patsy realised her bride was probably right. She'd let herself get close to more people than she'd ever thought possible. And the reason for that was now resting her head on her shoulder, and slipping a hand underneath the stiff fabric of her jacket. Carefully, Patsy buried her nose in the intricately pinned hair. Behind the overwhelming smell of hairspray was the scent she loved so much, unique to Delia. It never ceased to calm her and so she breathed it in deeply and felt a peacefulness settle over her. "I owe you so much Delia."

"You owe me nothing sweetheart," Delia mumbled.

They moved softly together for two more songs, the dance floor gradually filling around them, but their focus was entirely on one another, until a polite cough was heard beside them. She opened her eyes to find her father standing before her, a gentle smile on his face.

"Pati…Patsy, forgive an old man for interrupting, but would you allow me to take the newest member of our family for a turn around the dance floor?"

She received the most beautiful smile when she glanced at Delia, and stepped back, passing Delia's hand into her father's. "Just bring her back in one piece, I remember the whirling dervish you used to be."

"I shall," he chuckled. "And Patsy?"


She watched the man take a deep breath. "I'm so very proud of you."

Patsy's breath caught in her throat as her eyes prickled.

"I regret not telling you that more often."

All she could do was offer a tight smile and a small nod. She felt Delia watching her with concern but knew if she met the woman's eye she'd break her cardinal rule and cry in public. So she simply turned away.

She found herself being intercepted by Trixie, the blonde looking radiant in her floor-length lavender bridesmaid's dress.

"Ohh Patsy, it's all so beautiful, I just can't…"

The redhead was horrified to see her best friend's eyes welling up. She swept the woman into her arms and gave her a twirl. "Don't you dare Franklin, you'll set me off!"

"I'm sorry," Trixie squeaked as she waved a hand at her face to stave off the tears. "I'm just so happy for you!" She took a deep breath and seemed to finally compose herself. "Who'd have thought, four years ago when we first moved into that room together and I accused you of trying to steal Tom from me, that this was where we'd end up?"

Who'd have thought indeed. Back then she was just coming to terms with her sexuality, with her feelings for Delia, angry and shut off from her only remaining family member.

She risked a glance across the dance floor, at the brunette gently swaying in the arms of the man she'd thought lost to her. That was another thing she owed Delia. The welshwoman had insisted that she let her father know that they had gotten engaged, and promised to be by her side regardless of his response, or potential lack of. They'd received a congratulations card a month later, accompanied by a long letter. They had a long way to go, but it was more than she'd dared to hope for.

So to see her wife, dancing with her father, on her wedding day. Well, it was a quite a turn up for the books. She wasn't complaining.