I don't own coupling.

As far as Sally's concerned, there are countless problems surrounding Patrick.

The biggest one is that she's in love with him.

What's the problem with Patrick Maitland?

Oh, where does Sally even begin? She has lists chalked up in her mind as to all the reasons why Patrick is a problematic and utterly useless person, so many flaws memorized that she could fill up a book ranting about them in great detail. Every moment spent in his presence, or even in contact with him over the phone, leaves Sally flustered and frustrated and wanting to slap him across the face- because he can't go a full five minutes without doing or saying something infuriating.

Maybe the biggest problem is that he's a Tory. His political beliefs make her want to clutch her hair and moan because oh, he really doesn't have a clue as to how minorities are struggling. Patrick strides in to the world and expects everything to be handed to him on a silver platter, because that's the way life always has been for him. Who cares about minorities when he's not part of one, after all? He's the epitome of privilege, a rich white man with a sex drive bordering on dangerous addiction. He's seemingly never had to want for anything in his life, and so when Sally tries to discuss immigration with him, or fair trade, Patrick's face takes on a sort of blank superiority, and he responds with childish comments- why does it matter? Or At least conservatives allow freedom of speech. I can say whatever I like, offensive or not, because we live in a country with freedom of speech! Comments that are so sickening that Sally wants to scream her frustration out at him until he gets it through his thick skull that he's wrong. Of course issues like that matter, and to any unselfish person in the world it's a simple concept, but because it doesn't outright affect Patrick himself then he merely sees it as so what? It might as well not exist at all, as far as he's concerned. It doesn't affect his salary, or BMW, or sex drive.

Maybe the biggest problem is that he's so much like a child, stuffed prematurely into a man's body. The world sits in permanent shades of Black and White to him; you see a pretty girl? Sleep with her. You see something you like? Buy it. You don't like someone? Tell them. He may be charismatic, Sally has to admit begrudgingly through clenched teeth, but he's not diplomatic, the way she always tries to be. He says what he thinks even when it means sticking his foot in it to a ridiculous extent and embarrassing all parties involved (except himself). Patrick has no shame in throwing about the claim that he 'doesn't have a subconscious,' and it grates on her nerves because it's the most stupid thing Sally's heard in her life (she herself has no qualms in throwing around the far more accurate claim that Patrick's a bloody idiot.) Maybe the biggest problem is when he looks at her with wide eyes, his curly hair tousled and sticking from his head as if he's just woken up, and he'll give her this smug smile that reminds her of a preteen boy who's just had his first kiss or gotten away with cheating on a test, so full of immature self-importance that it makes her blood boil and she wants to smack that stupid smile right off his face.
Maybe it's the fact that he still plays with toy cars like a pre-school child but tries to justify it as a 'collection', that his obsession with automobiles is so intense that he will literally phone her up or text her at the most ridiculous hours of some night just to inform her that Oh, he saw a really nice BMW he wants to get someday, she would have really loved it! As if Sally cares, as if Sally is even remotely interested in stupid bloody cars.
It's reached the stage that whenever Sally sees a luxury car something tugs the back of her mind like a fishhook, noting that Patrick would really like that, and she'll curse the idiot and his stupid, childlike obsession.

Maybe, though, the problem is something else, Sally thinks. Maybe it's because somehow, despite all his immaturity and narcissism, he seems to get her the way no other man she's ever known has. She's not sure what it is, but somehow Patrick always manages to pick up on her moods, her mannerisms, her opinions. He figures out her berserk buttons too quickly for her liking and uses them against her, teasing her relentlessly about her guilty pleasures and insecurities until she's furious and has to go running to Susan to bitch about him for a solid two hours. He also knows her desires and indulgences without her having to tell him, and so he can tempt her when necessary, or flatter her to her heart's content by going on a spiel about how young and beautiful she looks, how she could be an eighteen year old, how she never ages and her figure is so svelte. And Sally knows it's probably a load of rubbish, but it somehow still manages to appeal to her ego, and she'll find herself lapping up the compliments from the palm of his hand, only realizing later (when the charm has long gone) just how much of an idiot she has been.

Maybe…
Maybe it's the other girls.
Sally doesn't know why it bothers her. Patrick's her friend, nothing more- and it's a strange, unconventional friendship they have anyway, most of it formed on the basis of mocking each other or debating an issue they both disagree about, getting heated and stubborn and headstrong, then sulk at each other like petulant children for days afterwards.
So why does she care about Patrick's sex life? It doesn't concern her, it never really has and that is perfectly fine with her. Sally doesn't care at all, actually. She doesn't care at all when Patrick introduces their group to his latest girlfriend, usually some pretty thing ten years or more his junior with a perfect figure (but nowhere near as intelligent as she herself is, Sally thinks with a dignified sniff, and spends the rest of the evening trying- though usually failing miserably- to showcase her superiority over this girl.). She doesn't care when he brags about the hordes of women he's had in his bed, that bloody cupboard stacked to the brim with 'conquests' (Sally pities the women he's been with- those poor women who had no idea that all they were to him were sex objects.)
She doesn't care when he sits at the bar, pouring charming words and promises out like a fountain to some pretty, young thing on the stool beside him. She doesn't care when the girl (they're always everything Sally feels she's not, young and slim and pretty, and most of all confident in all the ways Sally knows she never will be) happily follows Patrick home like a stray sheep, all too eager to graze in his paddock for a while.

No… perhaps the biggest problem is the strange delusion that people around her seem to have that she has feelings for Patrick.
Absurd. Disgusting. Ridiculous.
Why in hell would Sally have feelings for that silly spoiled brat of a man? She spends so much of her time and energy complaining about him, about how he's so self centred and aggravating, about how he's incapable of seeing the world from someone else's point of view.
complains and complains to Susan, yet when she laments the fact that people have the misguided idea that she, Sally Harper, has an attraction to Patrick, Susan doesn't sympathize the way a so-called best friend should; Susan merely gives her one of those tight, patronising I-am-sensible-Susan smiles that she does, as if there's some big injoke that Sally's missing.
Trying to talk about it to Jane is even worse; if Sally tries to pour out her frustrations about Patrick, gripping her glass of wine and furiously repeating over and over 'he's so stupid and annoying and I hate him how do all these girls find him attractive,', Jane doesn't act condescending like Susan, but merely shoots Sally an airy smile.
"I always thought Patrick was rather nice," she'll say dreamily, shrugging. "It's funny how you're the only person who couldn't successfully have a go with him, isn't it?" And when Sally all but shrieks that it wasn't her fault, that she's certain Patrick does find her attractive and it's just a problem with him, Jane's face curls into a smirk.
"But why does it matter if you're not attracted to him at all?" she'll shrug, leaving Sally flushed and stammering for an answer.
Of course she isn't attracted to him. Again, how could she be? Jane is just silly and doesn't understand…

But deep down, as Sally watches Patrick chatting up another girl at the bar, and the words they last exchanged spiral through her mind, she knows what the real problems are.
The real problem is that Patrick is sitting beside another girl now, pouring his charm on her, and despite all her disdain for him Sally wants to run over and push her out of the way, to yell at him that he's hers and no one else's. She doesn't understand where this possessiveness has come from, and doesn't want to think about it because she fears if she analyses it enough, she will understand where these feelings come from.
The real problem is that when she broke up with her boyfriend at the time, it was not Susan she turned to, or even Jane, it was Patrick and the fact that she allowed herself to be vulnerable around him sickens her. But he comforted her, he actually made her feel good about herself and stayed on the phone with her almost all night until she stopped being the snivelling, insecure mess and managed to compose herself again.
The real problem is that it's been over a week since they last sat together and talked about absolute rubbish for hours, the conversation taking weird, abstract turns that either made them laugh or made them both reveal far more than they intended.

The real problem is that Sally is terrified she waited too late to realise how she feels for Patrick. That the lecture she gave him to push him away, insisting 'It's never going to be you and me, is it?' worked too well. She wishes she could eat those words, erase that moment from history. Why did she give that up? Why did she have to be high and mighty about him?

What's the problem with Patrick Maitland? He's an arrogant, self-centred, immature, womanizing arse. But in some stupid, mocking twist of fate, he's the kind of guy that Sally could fall in love with. The kind of guy who could break her heart. And that's the biggest problem of them all.

A/N:

This is pretty much word-vomit, so I'm sorry for that. But I was thinking about Sally and Patrick, and honestly, I can relate to Sally so much right now that it's not even funny. This is set before they actually get together in the show, obviously. In the show, they get together and according to Moffat they're very happy in the future.

If only real life worked that way, right?