Author: Regency

Title: Two Turtle Doves

Summary: AU. As a consequence of being injured in Afghanistan, Bernie eventually requires a kidney transplant. This Christmas season, her perfect match is closer than first thought, in more ways than one.

Prompt: inspired by that adorable Tumblr post about a woman being her girlfriend's kidney donor. Written for the 2nd Day of the 12 Days Ficfest (Two Turtle Doves).

Author's Notes: Come flail with me about Berena on Tumblr, at sententiousandbellicose!

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, settings, or stories recognizable as being from Holby City. They are the property of their actors, producers, writers, and studios, not me. No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.

Today was the day. Serena was going to tell Bernie the truth. She'd put it off for a week now and daren't go any longer with Christmas just around the corner. Bernie had waited long enough, Serena would just have to do some waiting of her own in the meantime.

She straightened up her desk, cleared the leftover lunch detritus from Bernie's, and moved half of Bernie's admin stack to her side. Bernie was unenthusiastic about paperwork at the best of times, Serena would deal with it before she went home.

Serena rubbed her hands on her trousers. She was sweating, which was ridiculous given the weather out. She was offering her best friend potentially life-saving medical treatment, not proposing. Another thought that was probably best relegated to a dusty corner of her mind. Bernie was in the middle of a contentious divorce and at the tail end of an ill-timed affair, whatever feelings Serena had could wait. They'd have to.

She took another glance at the test results she'd retrieved from the transplant centre earlier in the week when Bernie had been away at a dialysis appointment. She'd spent every moment poring over the details and consulting the transplant coordinator and her own physician. She'd updated her last will and testament. She could do this, give Bernie a fraction of what she'd been given. Rubbing her temple, she tamped down on those thoughts before they had the chance to bloom to unmanageable proportions.

She looked toward the ward floor in search of a certain dishevelled blonde who was an hour overdue for their usual end-of-shift chat. There was nothing usual about the talk Serena had planned for them today.

She caught sight of Raf at the garland-adorned nurses' station first, and then Bernie who appeared in a haze of poor temper and just suppressed irritation. Raf gave Serena a subtle negative signal and Serena discreetly tossed the thin dossier back onto her desk. Now wasn't going to be the time. Fine.

Bernie trudged into their shared office and shut the door behind her with more force than necessary. With a groan of profound exhaustion, she stretched to work out the kinks in her back that had become customary after long hours in theatre. She scratched irritably at the bandaged port under her long sleeved undershirt.

"Another bad one?"

Bernie shook her head and sat down with a pained grunt. She regarded the stack of patient discharge forms awaiting her signature with open disdain. Serena's followed her glance at the clock on the wall. Bernie had a standing dinner date with her children, and Marcus less frequently, on Wednesdays. With her scheduled to work over Christmas this week was particular important. There wasn't any chance she'd make it on time at this rate. Bernie buried her face in her hands.

Serena came round and sat her hands on Bernie's slumped shoulders. "All right?"

Bernie looked up at her. "Sure. Just a long day." The days after dialysis were usually rougher on Bernie than the day of when she'd go straight home to sleep it off after work. Long surgeries without backup taxed her already diminished stamina, not that Bernie would admit it under pain of torture.

"Maybe you should head home. Let me handle all the paperwork."

"You're doing more than your fair share already. Let me handle this much." Bernie was forever worrying she wasn't carrying her weight on AAU and nothing Serena said to reassure her succeeded for long.

Serena began to lightly massage Bernie's straining trapezius muscles in an effort to ease the tension racking her frame. The impulse to look after her co-lead was unrelenting and Serena no longer resisted. "You have dinner with Marcus and the kids tonight. I won't have you making yourself late for nothing."

"I wouldn't say nothing." Bernie rolled her head back, her eyes closed. Serena took her cue and began working her thumbs up the sides of Bernie's neck where the hours of precarious bending had taken their toll. There had been a time when Bernie would have bolted at the first hint of someone touching her in a non-medical capacity. That she welcomed Serena's touch with such regularity was a constant surprise.

Serena jostled her slightly when it seemed Bernie had nodded off under her ministrations. "Bernie? It's not worth it." Not worth the inevitable arguing or the foul mood Bernie would carry around for the next week after the botched family gathering. A contentious divorce was bad enough; Bernie was doing all she could not to add estrangement to the mix.

Bernie shrugged, body undulating in a manner never less than fascinating for Serena to feel under her hands. "Worth it to me. I'll be a little late; tardiness is nothing they haven't come to expect."

Serena held back a sigh of her own, redoubling her efforts to ease Bernie's pain physically, if nothing else. There was no changing Bernie's mind once she was decided. "You've been in theatre six hours."

"Should have been five."

"Complications?"

"A surreptitious tear to peritoneum that concealed several areas of pernicious bleeding in the intestinal tract. We had to weed it out and then repair all of it." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, which still bore the imprint of the surgical loupes she'd worn in theatre.

"A mean feat. You should have called for me."

"You were busy." Paperwork and broken bones, nothing Raf or the junior doctors couldn't have handled in her absence. She preferred operating with Bernie over most anything her job required.

"Never too busy for you. You know that."

Bernie smiled up at her without opening her eyes. Serena was relieved; she knew what Bernie would have seen in her expression and that wasn't a conversation she was prepared to have.

"You don't have to take care of me, Serena. You have enough to do. I can carry my own weight."

"Having each other's backs means neither of us carries only our own weight." Serena worked the pads of her fingers along Bernie's clenching jaw and down her especially tense neck to the straining tendons of her trapezii. Following the path tension cut along Bernie's clavicle, Serena chased down an especially stubborn knot nestled in Bernie's overworked right deltoid. The trauma surgeon twisted, hissing, under the pressurized onslaught only to settle under Serena's apologetic gentling.

Bernie covered Serena's hands before she could return her attention to Bernie's shoulders and laughed, sounding slightly strained. "All right, give it a rest before I propose. Hands of a goddess, you've got."

Serena wiggled her fingers along the nape of Bernie's neck, eliciting another laugh from the other woman. "So I've heard. There's a stack of paperwork with your name on it if you're up for it. I'll pick us up something from Pulses, give you a moment." Give them both a moment, really. Serena enjoyed being close to Bernie too much for her own good. She could use the distance.

Just as Serena passed Bernie to retrieve her wallet, Bernie pulled her back. "I didn't even ask how you're doing. Weren't there some medical tests you were meant to be taking? Did the results come back?"

Serena floundered. She'd taken pains to ensure Bernie didn't know she went in for bloodwork upstairs. Then again, this was Holby; the only thing more traded in than lifesaving was gossip.

"You knew about that?"

Bernie raised her chin. "Not from you. Is everything all right?" She rubbed circles onto the back of Serena's hand.

Serena swallowed. Being touched by Bernie was an animal of a different stripe to being the one to do the touching. "Everything's fine."

"Good news?" Bernie offered a tentative smile.

Serena's answering smile was decidedly genuine. "Good news."

"You'll tell me about it? When you're ready, I mean?"

"You'll be among the first to know."

Bernie squeezed her hand and let go. "I can live with that."

Serena left Bernie to her paperwork and made for Pulses. If she hurried she might be able to get some of their leftover pastries on the cheap. She could do with a sugar rush to finish the shift off strong.

The return trip took longer than expected. She was waylaid first by Henrik and then by Guy Self who was blatantly attempting to curry favour for one initiative or another to be put before the board at week's end. She still had some pull despite no longer being a sitting member. The first matter she gave her complete attention; Guy's matter was not so lucky, Serena had already discarded the details.

Serena hurried back. She'd only gone to give herself time to rethink her approach to telling Bernie her news. Wednesday was clearly a poor idea. Friday, perhaps? That way Bernie would have the holiday weekend to consider….

On returning to AAU, she was intercepted by Raf at the lift. He held his hands up as if to stave off her reaction. "She knows."

Serena swore. "How does she know?"

"She went through all the files on your desk."

"Ah." That was the last action Serena had expected Bernie to take. Bernie was by no means an admin cog; she much preferred getting her hands dirty in theatre and leaving the bulk of the paperwork to Serena who had a head for it. In fact, Serena much preferred when Bernie left her to it as she frequently had to go behind Bernie and fix her administrative missteps. "All of it?"

Raf quirked his eyebrows meaningfully. "Probably as a thank you for that shoulder massage."

Serena was unimpressed. "Watch it."

"I've known you longer than her and I've never gotten a shoulder massage. I'm starting to feel underappreciated."

"I'll show you underappreciation," she groused. "Keep everyone out for the next—oh, I don't know, the rest of my life."

Raf patted her arm in solidarity. "You got it, boss. Good luck."

Serena clutched the duet of coffees she'd gone to retrieve in her suddenly sweaty hands. "Thanks."

Bernie was staring into the distance when Serena came bearing the fruits of her labour. "Anybody up for blueberry Danish?" Bernie loved blueberry Danish due to a decided lack of it in Afghanistan. It was the fastest way to butter her up when one needed a favour. Bernie didn't react to the bribe.

"Were you going to tell me?"

So they were jumping right into it. Serena secured the door and sat her offerings on the desk.

"Of course I was going to tell you."

Bernie flipped open the unadorned file in front of her. It contained a large glossy poster practically shouting in large text It's a Match, and then smaller You and Serena have no antibodies against each other above a pair of candid photos of them at Bernie's surprise birthday celebration at Albie's earlier in the year.

"This was what the tests were for?" Serena was going to have a long talk about patient confidentiality with the haematology labs first chance she got.

"It was."

Bernie stared down at the poster. Serena was torn between the impulse to leave Bernie to digest the news and the need to explain herself. She had planned for the need to explain. She hadn't planned for silence.

"We're a match," Bernie asked, finally, voice strangled.

"A perfect match." The words felt oddly accusatory. Serena wrung her hands.

Bernie gently touched the pictures of them. They were two halves of one photograph. Two perfect equals. She couldn't know that was the night Serena had decided to be tested to see if she was a match for Bernie. That also happened to be the night Serena realized she was in love with her best friend.

Bernie shook her head and looked up at Serena, dark eyes red-rimmed. "You can't."

"I can," Serena countered. "I will if you'll let me. You need a kidney, Bernie. Sooner rather than later. I'm your best shot."

"Why?" Bernie pushed, stubborn to the last in refusing to see her own worth.

"Because you deserve the best possible life! You have so much to do. I can help. Let me help."

Bernie pushed up from her chair, too restless to sit. "Serena, you can't. It's too dangerous."

Serena scoffed. "Please, we both know the risks, and they're no greater than for any other routine surgical procedure. Don't insult me by acting as though I've gone into this ignorant. What's your real objection?"

"You can't risk your life for me."

"That's my choice to make. I think you're worth it. You've had my back, let me have yours this time. Besides, it's Christmas and you're very hard to shop for. It was this or a cap with a fuzzy ball on top."

Undistracted by Serena's attempt at levity, Bernie searched her face. "Why?" she asked again, and Serena couldn't deny Bernie was looking for something specific in asking, though she couldn't say what for the life of her.

"Because you're my best friend, and my life is better with you in it. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you in it. Isn't that enough?" Something Serena dared not read into bled into Bernie's expression and Serena averted her eyes to keep from hoping.

Bernie clasped her hand and nodded. "Yeah, that's enough."