After that, it seemed they were inseparable again. The long nights at Albies, the inside jokes, the 'dream team' dynamic all returned, and AAU ran smoother than ever. Serena allowed Bernie to vent to her about the army whenever she liked, which in time led to other members of staff feeling more comfortable mentioning it around her too as they noticed her and Serena talking about it, and in turn this helped Bernie to process what had happened.

It was early October, the first time Serena got a text in the middle of the night from Bernie, waking her with a jolt.

Are you awake? B.

Serena raised an eyebrow at the words that had flashed up on the screen.

I am now. What's up?

Fancy a breakfast? B.

Serena looked at the clock, her brow furrowing. It was 3am, and she really would rather be sleeping. But she also knew that Bernie wouldn't be asking this for any old reason, so she swung her legs out of bed with a groan, threw on some casual clothes and a bit of mascara, and replied to Bernie that she was on her way.

They met at the service station just after the Holby turn-off on the A1. It was the only place that was open for food at this time of day, and both of them found the distance it gave them, the emptiness of the place and the soothing hum of the occasional car on the motorway, somehow comforting. When Serena arrived, Bernie was already sat at a little table in the corner of the café there, her legs bouncing up and down as she pulled her large, oversized cardigan more tightly around her, her cold fingers disappearing under the sleeves.

"Good morning," Serena introduced, sitting down heavily opposite her. "Or would 'goodnight' be more adequate here?"

Bernie barked out a laugh. "Funny," she shook her head fondly. "I ordered us both a full English. Extra tomatoes."

"Ah, you know me so well," Serena smiled, pulling her own jacket more tightly around her. It was freezing in the service station, and the bright white artificial lighting only served to amplify that. She hoped that Bernie had ordered them some tea, too, to warm her fingers up.

"So, what brings us here?" Serena asked eventually. "I feel like I'm at some secret meet in a spy film. Are you going to tell me that you've been undercover the whole time, Jason is a robot and AAU is bugged by secret space aliens wanting to shoot the earth into the sun?"

Bernie laughed heartily, the sound echoing in the empty hall. "Yes," she joked. "That's exactly it. How did you know?"

"I'm in cahoots with them," Serena teased. "I was possessed about a fortnight ago, actually. There's a spaceship outside waiting to take us to the promised land for free tea and biscuits. Unfortunately, they don't do fry-ups." Serena looked past her as the server arrived with their plates of food, as well as two steaming mugs of tea. They thanked him, both going for the tea first in order to warm their hands for a moment before tucking into their breakfast.

"So," Serena tried again. "Are you going to tell me why we're really here? Or am I actually about to get abducted by aliens?"

Bernie shook her head with a small smile, swallowing a mouthful of hash brown. She looked down at her plate. "I couldn't sleep," she said eventually, her hair falling across her face. She quickly tucked it back behind her ear.

"Well, that makes one of us," Serena said dryly.

"I'm sorry," Bernie murmured, her fork playing with a bit of bacon on her plate. "I just… wanted to see you? I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to be in the house by myself, tossing and turning and what-have-you. So I thought, 'hey, I'll go annoy my old pal Serena Campbell for a bit' instead."

Serena chuckled. "Well, next time just come and knock on my door. I'm good at a fry up, you'll remember. Never tried cooking at 3am though, right enough."

"Thanks, but," Bernie sighed, piling some scrambled egg onto her fork. "I wanted to be somewhere a bit more neutral. No, that's not the word." She looked up into the air searchingly. "Just somewhere away, you know?"

Serena looked across at her sympathetically. "Bad memories?"

"Bingo," Bernie replied, taking another mouthful. They ate in silence for a few minutes, both enjoying the greasy food that they would no doubt regret eating later when it was still on their breath at seven o'clock at night.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Serena asked eventually, cleaning her plate with a slice of bread. Bernie put down her knife and fork, reaching for the rest of her tea.

"Maybe," she said, frowning into the air. "It's just… it's not flashbacks, if you know what I mean. I don't have post-traumatic stress disorder, I'm not depressed, I don't feel guilt. It just gets to me some nights, usually after a hard day at work, and I just… I can't stop seeing their faces, you know?"

Serena looked at her sadly. "Yes. I do." She sat back in her seat, slightly nauseous from the quantity of food. "Nightmares?"

Bernie shook her head. "Not even that," she sighed, looking down into her mug. "It's just… sadness? I see all the faces, the people I saw dying, or dead, or seriously injured. Men, women, children, babies. All these people that had their lives cut short." She paused, her thumbs tapping on the rim of her mug. "It's the statistics, too, you know. I just get so frustrated, so disgusted. Did I tell you how many people there were in my squad, when we were posted?" Serena shook her head, sipping her tea. "Twenty-eight. Twenty-eight mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives, daughters, husbands…" She trailed off, her voice thickening. "Do you know how many of them are alive now? Less than half. And of that surviving half, six of us got off scot-free."

Serena's mouth opened slightly in shock, but words seemed to fail her, so Bernie continued.

"It just really, really disgusts me. It makes me sick. Physically. I watch the news and I'm sick because its all so…" She looked up at Serena, her eyes watery. "It's just so unnecessary. Why does this have to happen? I know that it does have to happen, really. We have to defend ourselves." She stopped for breath. "It's just so… I just struggle with the… with the concept of it."

Serena set her empty mug down on the table, her eyes on Bernie intently. "I'm… I'm sorry to hear…" She trailed off, realising how useless her words were. "How come you never mentioned any of this before? Your squad…"

"I don't like to think about it," Bernie answered, biting her lip. "Never mind talk about it. It's disgusting, isn't it?"

"Are you sure you wouldn't benefit from some kind of support?" Serena asked gently. "Anything. It doesn't have to be counselling as such, there's support groups and—"

"No, Serena. Seriously, I don't need that," Bernie butted in. "I swear to you, if I thought even for a second that that would help I would be there, but I think for now at least I just need…" She looked up at her tentatively. "I just need you. A friend. You know, someone to forget about it with, who I know won't judge me for what I'm feeling."

Serena took a deep breath, steadying herself. She reached her hand across the table. "Well, you've got me," she insisted, brushing her thumb across Bernie's knuckles. "Any time, any place. You know I'd do anything for you." She raised both eyebrows in emphasis and Bernie smiled in response.

"Thanks," she murmured, interlinking their fingers. "You really are too good to me."

"Don't be ridiculous," Serena laughed. "You deserve it all." They smiled at one another for a few moments before Serena spoke again, the words seeming to come out on autopilot. "You know, if you're struggling being alone when you're like this… You could always move back in with Jason and I?" Serena froze, hearing her own voice and immediately regretting it. Why did she have to ruin things?

"Oh, Serena, I don't—"

"In the spare room," Serena interjected, desperate to redeem herself from sounding as though she were propositioning her friend. "I know it's not the biggest room you could have but it's comfortable, ensuite and I know Jason would be thrilled to have you around again." Bernie laughed slightly. "And it would save us both the petrol of having to come out here every time you need it when I have a perfectly adequate shed for when we need to escape the world for a while."

Bernie smirked. "I bet your shed doesn't do a fry-up as good as this."

Serena chuckled. "Well, there's a very good all-night delivery place just opened round the corner which I'm sure would be more than happy to do us a sausage butty if we wanted it." She gave Bernie's hand another squeeze. The older woman held her gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought.

"I'll think about it," she said eventually, letting go of Serena's hand to get her purse out to pay for their breakfast. "I'll let you know in the week. My next rent payment is due in a fortnight so I'll see."

Two weeks later, she moved in.

It wasn't a lot different, really, except that rather than staying out all night drinking in Albies, they settled for the sofa instead. And on the nights that Bernie was struggling with the memories, they would go out in the garden and Bernie could smoke whilst they drank and ate, or if it was raining they would sit in the shed on two old camp chairs in their pyjamas with a flask of tea, only interrupted by whichever poor soul was on the night shift at Domino's.

Bernie would never set foot in Serena's room, though, and vice versa. It was an unspoken rule established from the moment Bernie had set foot in the house, a boundary that they couldn't trust themselves to cross. Instead, Bernie would text Serena if she wanted her, and Serena would keep her phone by her bed just in case. It was a perfect little arrangement.

They got on better than ever, too. Some nights, they would even cook dinner together, Serena focusing on the preparation whilst Bernie was in charge of the hob, Jason kindly setting the table for them and opening a bottle of wine that more often than not was pretty much empty by the time they actually sat down to eat. Serena didn't know how she could wish for more.

But the problem was, she did. Even though they were so close, intimate in their manner and their routine, Serena still itched, after a long day or when they were alone together, to reach out and interlink their fingers, put her arm around her, to have her asleep in her arms. She wanted to kiss her, hold her, love her. Long, sleepless nights were entertained by fantasies of her lying there next to her, of her warm skin beneath her, beneath her lips. The scent of her perspiration filling the air and her breaths short and fast on her neck a she made love to her. Some nights, she would imagine tender, soft, warm kisses and caresses, slow, intricate love-making and whispers of 'I love you' with every breath. Other nights she would work herself up into a frenzy, visions of hot, sweaty, desperate fucking flashing through her mind and making her blush all over as she made herself come, all too aware that the woman of her dreams was lying asleep in the room next to her, completely unknowing of the effect that she still had on her former lover.

How could she continue, like this? Serena wondered daily whether it would be better just to admit it, to tell Bernie her feelings and deal with the consequences. But she knew that she couldn't. Bernie did not want it, and that was that. She had no right to go around stirring up old feelings now, when they were both so happy together. She just had to deal with it, and move on. If only it were that simple.

—

Christmas Eve, 2018.

The festive season had come round again all too quickly, and as usual they were snowed under. Figuratively and literally. It had been the coldest December for more than thirty years, bringing with it severe snowstorms and subsequently an unprecedented number of broken hips and RTCs.

The Christmas Eve shift was always busy, they knew, with the patients already here wanting to be discharged in time for the big day and the new patients coming in more often than not being sicker than ever as they had often left their ailments, wanting to wait until after Christmas Day to cause a fuss. Now, being a surgeon in the NHS for more than twenty-five years, there were not many things that shocked Serena. But this Christmas Eve, two years on, there was one patient that truly knocked her for six.

"Trauma call!"

The shout came across the ward and Bernie was soon rushing over. Serena watched as Lou relayed the details of the patient to Bernie, before the older woman's head quickly snapped around, calling for her to assist.

"Female, twenties, involved in an RTC at approximately thirty-five miles per hour. Thirty-six weeks pregnant and in full labour, by the sounds of it. They were on their way to the hospital when they were hit."

"Oh, brilliant!" Serena groaned, pulling on her gown. "GCS?"

"She's in and out of consciousness. Suspected fractured tib and fib. Pulse in her right leg's weakening."

As if on queue, the double doors to the ward crashed open. Serena snapped into action, taking one of the side rails as they pushed into the trauma bay.

"What've we got?"

"This is Maria Park, twenty-five years old. She's thirty-six weeks pregnant and fully dilated. GCS twelve, BP ninety-two over seventy. She was KO'd at the scene but's been conscious for the last fifteen minutes or so."

"Hello, Mrs Park, my name's—"

"Ms Campbell!"

Serena turned around sharply, her mouth opening as she saw the man before her: Joshua Park. The last time she'd seen him, on Christmas Eve 2016, he had been at death's door. Now here he was, standing before her, clean shaven and in a suit, admittedly looking a little worse for wear with a large gash to his cheek, presumably from where the windscreen had shattered, and blood splattered across his front. He was clutching a pink hold-all in one hand, presumably filled with her hospital things, and her maternity notes in the other.

"Ms Campbell is she going to be okay?" He panicked, rushing over to her and flapping the notes in his hands. "These are all her notes and stuff from the hospital. The baby's gonna be okay isn't it?"

"I promise you we're doing everything that we can."

"Obs and gyne are all backed up," Bernie announced, replacing the phone on the wall in the receiver. "They're sending a midwife from the maternity unit but she could be another half hour with all the traffic."

"We'll have to do it in here."

"Can she really deliver with that fracture?"

"I don't know."

They both rushed round to examine the patient, Serena checking the pulse in her foot and Bernie inspecting the fracture.

"Pulse is weak."

"Oblique open fracture. She'll need surgery."

"We need to prioritise."

Their eyes met as they ran through the possibilities in their heads. What could they do?

A shriek of pain tore them out of their thoughts. They nodded to one another.

"Mrs Park," Bernie began, returning to her bedside. "Do you feel like you need to push?"

The woman nodded, her face bulging purple from the pain.

"Serena?" Bernie looked around. Serena stopped. Could they really do this?

"Okay, we need to get the leg in a splint so that she doesn't do any more damage, and set her up with some entonox."

Bernie rushed to get a splint to bind her leg in place whilst Serena called obs and gyne again, praying that there was someone, anyone to come and assist. There wasn't.

"How are we going to do this?" Serena murmured to Bernie as the both washed their hands. Bernie looked at her seriously.

"We can. We've got this, Serena. We've done this before."

Serena took a steadying breath. "Okay," she replied, following Bernie back to the bed.

"Right, Mrs Park, on the next contraction, we want you to push, okay?"

Maria nodded as Bernie ducked down to check her dilation.

"Serena, I can see the head."

Serena's eyebrows shot up. "Okay. That's fast. Does it look okay?"

"Fine."

"It's coming again," Maria panted, her grip tightening on her husband's hand as her face contorted with pain.

"Right, I need you to push right down into your bottom for me," Bernie instructed as Serena held the entonox to the woman's mouth for her to drag on. "Just like they showed you in antenatal class. Push right down."

Maria shrieked again as she pushed, the veins in her forehead throbbing with effort.

"That's it! The head's out. Well done, Maria. You're doing really well," Bernie praised, her tone warm, and Serena felt a rush of pride run through her at how good Bernie was at this, at everything she did. "Just relax a moment, now. You're doing brilliantly."

"I don't feel good," she panted, her eyes fluttering. She promptly turned her head and vomited all down Serena's front.

"Oh, the joys of childbirth!" Serena groaned, gritting her teeth against the smell. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bernie smirk and made a mental note to get her back for that later on.

"My leg…" Maria groaned. Serena looked over at Bernie worriedly. She placed two fingers on the top of her foot, checking the pulse there.

"Getting weaker," Bernie told, her face screwing up. "Damn."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to have to—"

"It's coming… I can't do this…"

"Please don't let her die!"

"We need to get this baby out, now."

"Push, Maria!"

Serena held the entonox in one hand and a vomit bowl in the other, not wanting a repeat of the last contraction. She reassured the screaming woman that she could do this as she pushed hard, her eyes streaming and sweat beading on her forehead. And with two more torturous contractions, she gave birth to a baby girl, Andrea.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Joshua had tears in his eyes as he held his baby girl for the first time, and Serena felt slightly emotional too. She looked up to Bernie and found her staring across at her, her eyes bright and glistening, her lips turned up into an affectionate smile.

"Well done," she mouthed. Serena wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, though she would be lying if she said that it were entirely due to the baby. The rush of love she had felt when Bernie had looked at her was agonising, like a stab to her heart. She had been so stupid. Where would they be, now, had Serena not ruined things? She wanted nothing more than to be able to walk over, slip her hand into Bernie's, kiss her gently and happily. But she had thrown all that away, her own ignorance taking over.

After allowing her a few minutes with the baby, they rushed Maria into theatre. The surgery took longer than expected, but it went well, and Bernie insisted on closing up so that Serena could go and tell Josh the good news.

"We'd better get that face stitched up, too, young man," Serena asserted, pulling the suture kit towards the bed on which he was lying. They were quiet for a couple of minutes, comfortable silence as Serena put some local anaesthetic into the wound before suturing it.

"I never thought this is how I'd be spending my Christmas," he said eventually, as Serena finished the first stitch. "In a car accident, with a baby…" His lips turned up into a grin as his eyes fell on the cot beside his bed. "Thank you, Ms Campbell. Really. Not just for the baby…" He turned his head, just as Serena was about to start the next stitch. "I never forgot you, you know. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't have got me into that rehab. It was a good one."

Serena smiled. "Ah, yes. Well, a friend owed me a favour. One of the best in the country."

"Thank you," he repeated sincerely. His eyes watery. He sniffed. "So, anyway, enough about me. How are you? Did you ever get that dance?"

Serena's stomach went cold. "I'm sorry?" She feigned ignorance, gesturing for him to turn his head so that she could continue stitching, but he didn't quite get the message.

"You know. You said how you'd always dreamed of dancing to Fairytale of New York under the stars or something, with the love of your life. Did you get to do it?"

"Just turn your head for me," Serena instructed, before beginning the next stitch. She sighed. "No, I didn't," she murmured finally, swallowing back a lump threatening to form in her throat. "I made a right royal mess of that one."

"What did you do, tread on his toes or something?" Josh joked. Serena shook her head sadly.

"I pushed her away, when she needed me the most," Serena told, carefully cutting the thread as she finished the second stitch. "And now she can't forgive me. Well, we're good friends. Living together, actually. But not like that. Never like that…" She trailed off, letting out a deep breath.

Josh frowned. "But, have you told her this is how you feel?"

"Well, not in so many words, but—"

"Tell her," he insisted. "Remember what you told me, there's always second chances."

"I'm not sure that would apply here," Serena huffed, her eyebrows raising. "I think it might be beyond that."

"So?" Josh frowned. "How many time was I in rehab? Six? Seven? Remember you telling me, and me telling you that I wouldn't live to see another Christmas? Look at me now. I've been clean for eighteen months. I have an apartment, a wife, a job, and now a daughter. People can change. There can always be another chance."

Serena swallowed thickly, looking away. "In most cases," she said evenly, her jaw clenched against sadness. "She doesn't want it. End of."

"Not until you've told her how you feel," Josh urged, but Serena wasn't budging.

"Come on, let me finish this stitch," she sighed heavily. He shook his head, but allowed her to begin finishing suturing.

"Mr Park," Bernie appeared after a couple of moments. Expert timing as always. Serena sniffed.

"Maria is out of surgery now. Everything is fine, she's just a little groggy. She's in the side room, if you'll show him the way once you're finished, Serena?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." Serena nodded in Bernie's general direction, but kept her gaze on Josh's stitches, not wanting her to see the emotion in her eyes. She disappeared again, and they were silent for a few moments.

"That's her, isn't it?" Josh murmured eventually. Serena trimmed the thread on the last stitch, before beginning to clear up.

"Really, Josh, it's fine. I'm more than happy with life as it is, thank you."

"But that's not the point, is it?" He persisted. "I was perfectly happy drinking myself to death, all because I was scared to want better than that, because I thought it was impossible." He caught her arm, his eyes wide and assuring. "But it's not impossible until you try."

Serena heaved a heavy sigh, her arms falling slack with defeat. "I'm sorry, Josh. If I thought there was any chance, I'd be there like a shot, but it's just not what she wants."

He held her gaze, until finally he dropped his hand. "Just think about it, okay?" He asked, swinging his legs off the bed. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve that dance!"

Serena smiled warmly at him, giving his shoulder a squeeze before showing him to the side room. His words rang in her ears. There can always be another chance. She shook herself mentally. Bernie didn't want her, and that was that. Better to have loved and lost, as they say. She wiped her eyes, and set back to work.

She didn't see Bernie for the remainder of her shift. A major trauma had come in, so Bernie was wrapped up in theatre for most of the afternoon, and by the time she was finished Serena was in surgery herself. It was a long operation, an emergency aortic valve replacement, and complications meant it took Serena well past her shift finishing time. It was half past ten, by the time she was scrubbing out, her eyes tired and her body aching with fatigue.

With their shift's both supposed to have finished at eight o'clock, Serena assumed that Bernie would be home by now. She hoped that Bernie had cooked something enough for both of them for dinner; she was starving, but too tired to be bothered making much herself. She made a mental note to text her when she got back to their office, so that she could stop for a takeaway on the way home if there was nothing better on offer.

However, there was no need, seeing as when she opened the door Bernie was sat there at her desk, her eyes scanning some unknown email. Her head snapped around as Serena entered, frowning.

"What're you still doing here?" Serena asked, flopping heavily into her own chair, just needing a moment to psych herself up for the walk home. She really did wish that they had driven today, but the car was frosted over and they had been running late as it was.

"I thought I'd wait for you," Bernie replied, her eyes still on the screen as she clicked off the program and began shutting the computer down. "Wouldn't want you slipping and breaking your neck on that ice all by yourself now, would we?"

Serena laughed, shaking her head. "How thoughtful!" After a pause, she swirled around in her chair to pull her jacket from the rack behind her. Bernie stood.

"Actually," she began, pushing her thumbs into the back pockets of her tight jeans. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a quick drink? It is Christmas Eve, after all…" She looked up at Serena, one eyebrow raised in question.

"'Quick drink'?" Serena replied, pulling on her coat. "Does that concept even exist for us?"

Bernie barked out a laugh. "Well…" She shook her head, her gaze falling to the floor. She coughed. "It's almost eleven o'clock now, isn't it. It'll be forced upon us. Don't Albies chuck out at twelve?"

Serena shrugged. "Usually. Don't know if it's different for Christmas, though." She hesitated, before standing. "Fine. But you're buying. And you're responsible for food, I'm starving."

Bernie nodded happily, and they said a quick 'Merry Christmas' to Josh and Maria before making their way to Albies, their coat collars turned up against the icy wind. Serena was only too happy when Bernie suggested they nip into the local chippy along the way to warm themselves up, and they ate their chips in silence as they walked, finishing just in time for their arrival.

"Shiraz?"

"Ah, you know me so well."

They waded their way through the busy pub towards the bar, both of them flushed with the sudden heat. Serena tugged off her scarf and hat, unbuttoning her coat just as they arrived at the bar.

"Dominic Copeland! Just the man I wanted to see!"

Serena jumped as Bernie shouted through the crowd. She frowned up at her friend.

"Sorry, Serena, I'll just be a moment. Here." She reached into her pocket for her card. "PIN number's Charlotte's birthday. I'll be five minutes." And with that she was off, leaving Serena perched on her stool at the bar, her bag resting on the one next to her to save Bernie a seat. Though slightly peeved at being left by herself, she couldn't help but smile at the contrast between the Bernie that had returned from the war six months ago, and who she was now. She had receded into herself, was so detached from the world around her and so bitter towards everyone she met, but now she was brighter than ever. Serena was so proud of her, of how far she'd come. It made her heart ache.

She ordered a bottle of their most expensive Shiraz, seeing as Bernie was buying, and two large glasses to go with it. She was half way through hers when Bernie reappeared.

"Drink up. We're leaving," she announced, lifting Serena's coat for her to put back on.

Serena gaped, her forehead creasing. "But, we've just got here. I've ordered a bottle—"

"We can take it with us," she reasoned, holding out the coat for Serena to put her arms in. The younger woman sighed before obliging, muttering to herself about what a pain in the arse her friend was sometimes. Bernie grinned at her, draining the wine that Serena had poured out for her before taking the bottle, nodding goodbye to the Keller team and leading Serena out onto the cold street.

"Share and share alike," Serena said as she grabbed the bottle from Bernie's hand, lifting it to her lips as they walked. Bernie laughed at her.

"Such a lady, Serena Campbell," she teased.

"Don't you just know it," Serena replied with a smirk, offering her the bottle. Bernie obliged, taking a large gulp for herself, before looking at the label.

"Christ, Serena. This stuff costs a fortune!"

"Shouldn't have left me at the bar with your card then, should you? Merry Christmas to me!" Serena laughed, and Bernie couldn't help but grin at her. They walked a bit further, until Bernie linked her arm with Serena's.

"It's awful slippery," she reasoned, taking the bottle from Serena again with her free hand. Serena just nodded, careful to watch where she was putting her feet in the snow and trying to ignore how wonderful it felt to have Bernie this close to her, trying to ignore the way her heart raced and her head span at the contact.

"Hang on, stop a moment," Bernie announced. Serena's feet skidded slightly as Bernie's strong arm, linked with hers, kept her in place. She turned around.

"Everything alright?" She asked, her forehead creased with worry. Bernie smiled at her shyly.

"Look where we are," she murmured, avoiding Serena's gaze.

Serena blinked, turning her head to take in their surroundings. They were on the Holby canal bridge on the outskirts of the city centre, exactly where they had been standing two years previous.

"I… I don't understand," Serena stammered, her mouth hanging open. Bernie fumbled around in her pockets.

"Just… Oh don't tell me I've bloody lost them…" Bernie's forehead creased and Serena couldn't help a fond smile, though her eyes still widened in confusion. Eventually Bernie fished two small wireless earbuds out of her pocket. With a somewhat shy smile, she placed one in Serena's ear and one in her own.

She cleared her throat. "Um… Dr Copeland showed me how to work these but… Just bear with me." She laughed nervously, tapping her phone as Serena watched in wonder at the impulsive, beautiful, messy, loveable woman stood before her. An icy gust of wind brought with it a fresh falling of snowflakes, and Serena wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth chattering and her shoulders shuddering as she watched Bernie faff about with her phone.

"Bernie, wha—"

Serena stopped dead as sound began to flood through the earpiece, the gentle opening of her favourite Christmas song...

Serena's eyes widened, emotion tugging at the back of her throat as Bernie gazed down at her, her own eyes glistening.

It was Christmas Eve, babe...

"Listen, Serena," Bernie began, her voice low and sincere. "I know... things have happened. We've both done things, said things that we regret and that we shouldn't have and that's fine, and I don't want you to ever think for a minute that I blame you or that I don't forgive you for last Christmas because I know... I realise that it was a lot to take in. We were both to blame, but..." She was rambling now, and Serena opened her mouth to interrupt but Bernie raised her hands, signalling for her to allow her to finish.

"But... I love you, Serena. I am in love with you. I always have been, always will be. I've been so stupid, holding back all these months. I just didn't—"

"Bernie," Serena interrupted her, her eyes sparkling. "I love you." Bernie let out a deep breath, her lips curling upwards into a faint smile.

I can see a better time

When all our dreams come true

She stood back slightly, holding her hand out to Serena, who grinned as the song picked up it's pace. Bernie's hand was firm in hers, tugging her towards her then lifting their joined hands above her head as she spun her around before pulling her back so that their bodies were flush against one another. Serena let out an elated laugh.

They've got cars

Big as bars

They've got rivers of gold

But the wind goes right through you

It's no place for the old

When you first took my hand

On a cold Christmas Eve

You promised me

Broadway was waiting for me

"You were handsome."

"You were pretty."

They mouthed along to each other as they twirled about, unable to keep the shameless grins from their face as they moved together, Bernie with one arm around Serena's waist and Serena with her palm resting on Bernie's shoulder, her other hand intertwined with Bernie's as they danced. She was vaguely aware of somebody passing them on the other side the street, staring in wonder as they made fools of themselves laughing into the night, but she didn't care. She was the happiest she could remember being for decades, in the arms of the love of her life, twirling beneath the stars.

I could have been someone

Well, so could anyone

Bernie slowed their pace along with the music, gazing devotedly into Serena's eyes. "I promise I'll be better, this time," she vowed, her voice low and thick. "We'll take it slow. I've made enough mistakes, I never want to lose you again."

You took my dreams

From me when I first found you

Serena looked into her eyes and knew in an instant that she meant every word. Something seemed to shift in her stomach, the dark clouds of guilt and doubt dissipating and instead being replaced by certainty that this was it; this was the moment that her whole life had built up to. All the mistakes, the agony, the regret, the good times and the bad, all led up to this moment and this woman stood before her.

I kept them with me babe

I put them with my own

She opened her mouth to speak, to confirm her feelings, to tell Bernie it was okay, but words failed her, her heart beating too violently for her to do anything other than lean forward and capture her love's lips in a bruising kiss, a sharp whimper escaping both their lips as they finally gave in, after all these months.

Can't make it all alone

I've built my dreams around you

They swayed to the music until silence descended upon them once more, only the gentle sounds of their shallow breaths and their lips moving against one another filling the air, until the chimes of Holby Cathedral brought them out of their trance as the bells rang out for Christmas Day. They pulled apart, both of them barely able to speak through their elation.

"Home?" Serena eventually choked out, a little laugh following it as she slipped her hand into Bernie's, her heart skipping.

"Yes. Home." Bernie leaned down once more, kissing Serena with all the tenderness in her heart until she had to pull away, afraid her legs might give way.

"Merry Christmas, Berenice." Bernie chuckled at the use of her full name.

"Merry Christmas, Serena Campbell."

She placed a gentle kiss on the cold tip of her nose, before taking her hand and leading them through the falling snow to the soft warmth of their home for Christmas.

The End.

Thank you all for reading! Any feedback gladly received :)