#Serena never moved on from Bernie

[backjustforberena]

Serena Campbell’s reaction to seeing a soldier with Cameron aka Serena knowing Bernie is hurt.

[madam-wakefield]

Historical Apology

Read on A03

TW: Homophobia Military Homophobia Internalized Homophobia

My work for the @berenaadvent Day 5 prompt “Historical”

Based around the The LGBT Veterans Independent review. Please do heed the homophobia warnings if that may be triggering.

Okay - so maybe this is a slightly stretch at the prompt “Historical” but once the thought was in my head it wouldn’t leave!

———

Serena comes home to fine the house eerily quiet. Bernie has had the day off and had told Serena she was planning to do a few of the DIY jobs that she’d got behind on because it’s July and they’ve spent all of their shared days off outside enjoying the sunshine. It’s not overly late just a little past 7pm and the temperature outside is still pleasant, so she wonders if maybe Bernie is outside, but isn’t convinced as she can’t hear any music playing. Bernie nearly always has music on if she’s tending the garden.

Serena places her shoes on the shoe rack by the front door, doesn’t want to walk through the house with her shoes on especially as she has her garden shoes by the conservatory door. She walks slowly through the house listening for signs of Bernie. Dinner hasn’t been prepped or started, though that in itself isn’t an issue, they are both quite used to eating post 9pm due to their shift patterns. Heads through into the conservatory but knows instantly Bernie isn’t outside due to the presence of her garden shoes on the doormat.

Serena doesn’t panic, there have been times before when she’s come home to a quiet house. Knows it might be a sign that Bernie just needs space, knows that Bernie has been part of things and seen things she will never understand. Knows that sometimes even out of the blue these things can play on her mind. She’ll go and find her girlfriend though, see if it’s space or company she needs and go from there.

She walks back through the house, and heads towards the stairs, it’s only as she approaches the last couple of steps that she can hear the faint sound of the telly coming from their bedroom. Wonders if Bernie has somehow got distracted during the DIY.

She pushes the door open, the shelf Bernie was meant to be putting up is discarded left propped up against the wall, though the brackets have definitely been screwed in. There are tools lay haphazardly on the ground underneath. Shes about to glance at the bed, wonders if Bernie has fallen asleep when the words coming from the TV stop her in her tracks.

The voice is unmistakable as the Prime Minister “The ban on LGBT people serving in our military until the year 2000 was an appalling failure of the British state – decades behind the law of this land.” She feels her own throat tighten at the words, can’t even comprehend the thoughts going through her girlfriend’s head. Wants to move, to say something, anything that might help. But she can only stare at the telly as the clip switches from the Prime Minister to the defence secretary Ben Wallace, can only listen to his words come from the TV screen.

“I am deeply sorry for what happened to you the very tolerance and values of western democracy that we expected you to fight for we denied to you. It was profoundly wrong.” Serena cannot describe the feeling in her chest at the words, the deep-seated heart ache that is so unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Knows the way she’s feeling is only a fraction of how Bernie is feeling. She forces her eyes away from the screen then, forces herself to look at the bed, to her girlfriend sat against the headboard, hunched over with her knees pulled to her chest, body shaking with silent sobs.

Serena walks to the telly, turns it off, walks in big strides over to the bed, slides up to her girlfriend and whispers her name more gently than she thinks she ever has in her life. “Bernie.” There is a pause, maybe for thirty seconds, but then Bernie moves her head, looks up at Serena. The sight before her breaks her heart, Bernie’s eyes red from crying, looking so anguished that Serena feels like her heart shatters.

“Cuddle?” Serena offers it as a question, knows Bernie may still want more space. Waits until Bernie nods before opening her arms. Bernie nestles against her, in a way that’s somewhat unusual for them, more often than not it’s Bernie holding her when they cuddle. Bernie settles her cheek against her chest, and Serena brings her arms around her tightly. Holds her close, rubs her hand gently up and down her arm. Doesn’t say anything else, knows from the time they’ve been together that Bernie will speak once she’s found the right words.

“Thank you,” is the first thing Bernie says, still not totally used to a partner who has her own best interests truly at heart. Shifts so that she can look as Serena as she talks, but instead connects their hands, her own way of grounding herself.

“I’ve known something like this was coming, ever since the report was commissioned. I’d known we’d get some big statement, but I didn’t except it to hit me so hard.” Bernie runs her thumb over Serena’s knuckles as she speaks, reminds herself that this is Serena that this conversation is okay, that Serena will never judge her for anything she has to say.

“I knew even before I was gay that I was destined to join the army. My brother, who should have been the one to join, had a form of childhood epilepsy that despite growing out of as a teen disqualified him from joining for safety reasons. We realised this when he was 16, I’d have been 12. I remember overhearing a conversation between my dad and granddad about the importance of the Wolfe family name carrying on, knew then and there that it was going to be me that carried that burden.” She can see the imagine vividly in her head, sat on their stairs of their house, leaning against the wall as her dad and grandad spoke. “I told them a few days later that I was going to join when I was old enough and I’ll never forget the pride in their eyes” and she can see it even now, can’t help but wonder if that pride would be the same now. She’d made it to major, a rank above them both, but would they be proud knowing that despite the fact she was a major that she’s also gay. She shakes her head gently can’t let that thought come into her mind now.

“As I got older the used to tell me stories, of the things they done, of the people they’d worked with. They made it sound glamorous in a way. Talked to me about what I wanted to do, it was a tradition that the Wolfe’s always entered as officers, and in the end, I decided it was medicine that I wanted to do. Of course, as time passed, I realised that I had feelings for women, knew that it wasn’t even really accepted in society and that it definitely wasn’t accepted in the military. But I pushed it aside knew I had a duty to my family, and that came above my own feeling. The army paid for my medical training, on the agreement that I served for at least 10 years, and I agreed because it took so much pressure off the family.” She feels Serena squeeze her hand as she’s speaking a silent sign that she’s listen that Bernie can keep talking.

“It wasn’t until I first attended officer training that I realised just how unwelcome the true me was there. I was dating Marcus by this point, we’d met at med school, but I knew deep down it wasn’t the real me. We were made to read through reams of paperwork, so we knew what we were signing up for, so we realised we had minimum service terms and such like. I’d always known people like me weren’t welcome in the military but having it written in front of my eyes in black and white was another matter. I can see see the image of the writing on the crisp white paper as if it was yesterday. ‘Any person subject to military law who is guilty of disgraceful conduct of a cruel, indecent or unnatural kind shall, on conviction by court-martial, be liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years.’ I was literally facing being found guilty of a criminal offence, if I so much as let my cover slip, it’s the reason I agreed to marry Marcus, I loved him, just not in the way he deserved, and it was the best protection for me. I’ll never not feel guilty for that, it isn’t what he deserved.

She pauses then, a big sigh coming from her lips, Serena places her hand gently under her chin, makes her look at her. “You did what you had to darling, no one can blame you for that. I know he was hurt when he first realised but I’m sure even Marcus understands deep down. Bernie nods minutely, not convinced totally understands that Marcus probably hate her and that her kids don’t think much better of her.

“I hate myself sometimes for staying, for allowing myself to enjoy being part of an institution that would have criminalised the real me. But I did love it, the army, it quickly became part of who I was. I built a big web of lies that at times even I believed. I rose through the ranks, and I convinced myself that that made it okay, that I’d earned respect despite everything. I lost friends though, a couple of good friends. I still remember as clearly as if it were yesterday the day Officer Cadet Richardson was accused of being homosexual, he’d always spoken about Jamie, but everyone though they were a woman, and of course Richardson, Paul, had never corrected them. You have to realise at this time there were literally teams within the army employed to basically witch hunt any gay people they could, and somehow, they found out, that Jamie was in fact a man. They pulled him out of bed in the middle of the night, read his letters in front of us all, made them seem disgusting by reiterating over and over again that they’d been written by a man. They took him away that night and I never saw him again; we’d been friends since the first day of officer training, and we were a week away from commissioning. That was one of the days I hated myself most for staying, I was Married to Marcus by this point, and I couldn’t afford not to, couldn’t afford for that to be me. But it ate me upside every day that I was willing to be so loyal to an organisation that literally destroyed the lives of people like me brave enough to be their true selves.” Tears are shining in her eyes now, can see the way Paul looked at her as he was dragged away, as if pleading with her to help him, and all she’d done is look away, not wanting to risk looking like she felt sorry for him for risk of outing herself, even with her giant web of lies. She’s quiet for a while now, wonders what the future ended up holding for Paul, if him and Jamie managed to stay together despite everything else.

“How long did it take to change?” Serena asks gently, she’d know the military were behind in their acceptance, but she never realised quite how deep it had run. It stopped being a criminal offence in the army in 1994, scary thought when you think all our children were born by then. But it didn’t become allowed until much later still. Every time there was a new act we were forced to agree to it, it’s one of the few times we could get out of our service outside our usual terms, I remember considering it when the 1995 act was given to me, but by this point I’d got a husband and two children, I’d go far too much to lose, so I was the opposite of brave because it was safer and I knew what to expect.

“Again, I can still see the writing as if it’s right under my face. The act stated amongst other things that ‘homosexuality isn’t compatible with securing the aims of the armed forces, because it undermines the order and discipline necessary for military effectiveness’. It went on to talk about how there was no other job like the military, and well as much I can concur with that that I cannot agree with the reasons they then gave as to why being a homosexual soldier was so wrong. They talked about the close proximity that soldiers live in. That they have no choice but to share same sex living quarters, as if implying the awful stereotype that gay people will want to try and sleep with everyone of the same sex. The worst part of it was the comment about the percentage of under 18s in the army, as if being homosexual made soldiers more likely to try and pray on the younger soldiers, stereotypes that within mainstream society were settling but in the army were being written into legislation that made my true self and the true self of so many others incompatible with jobs we’d literally risked our lives to do, in more ways than one.”

Serena can hear the shame in Bernie’s voice can’t help but put her arm around her and pull her close. Bernie rests her head against her shoulder and continues to speak, Serena knows now she’d opened this very deep seated can of worms that she needs to get it all out.

“I lost a few more friends in the coming years, friends who by every admission of the word are so much braver than I’ll ever be. They were tired of living a lie, wanted to be able to be their true selves, risked losing everything to do so. Something I despite over twenty-five years in the army wasn’t brave enough to do. Alex is notwithstanding in all of this because that was such a closely guarded secret because it was totally not allowed due to our ranks, without taking into the fact I was also married.” Bernie lets the feeling of Serena arm rubbing gently at her side give her the strength to keep speaking, some of the things coming from her lips are things she’s hidden in the depths of her soul for as long as she can remember. They are thoughts and feelings that have plagued her being for year but that she’s never shared with anyone before. She’s got better at sharing her emotions since leaving the army, got better and not hiding behind Great British reserve, especially with Serena. But laying herself so bare is still deeply uncomfortable for her, not because she doesn’t trust Serena but because her mind screams at her that what’s she’s doing and saying is wrong.

“It didn’t change for the better until the millennium, when it was finally allowed. But even then, it wasn’t right. The military has such a deep-rooted hatred of homosexuality that people who were out still faced marginalisation and judgement. They got looked over for promotion and such like. Once again, I could have been brave then, the children were older, but by this point I’d hidden my true self for so long I wasn’t even sure who that was anymore. I of course did what I could, made sure that as an officer of considerable rank that I helped the soldiers who were out and proud as much as possible. I Cut off homophobic comments, ensured soldiers under me got a fair go at promotions, but I still don’t feel like it was enough. Can you imagine how moral boosting it would have been for them people if I’d have been brave enough. What it would have meant to have a highly ranked officer be out and proud. But I couldn’t, I’d got to the point where I hated that part of myself, where I’d have done anything to change it, to really be able to love marcus. I’d have given anything to forget that I looked at woman and saw something innately beautiful.” The tears trickle down her cheeks slowly then, she’s not that woman anymore. Not the woman who hated the fact that she’s gay, she’s out and proud and loves Serena more than life itself. But sometimes the self-hatred she used to have for herself, that comes with years of repressing who you are to the point that you believe it is wrong yourself, is enough to overwhelm her.

She feels Serena thumb gently wiping at her face, knows that she won’t comment on it will just be here to listen for now, until its clear she’s finished.

“I kept that stance for the rest of my career getting promoted through the ranks. I was deployed overseas on multiple occasions include to Iraq and Afghanistan, ended up being promoted to Major, each year things seemed to get slightly better for the soldiers who were out, but I always tried to be the best ally I could even if I still wasn’t out. You know the rest of it from there, my affair with Alex, how it all would have stayed a secret had I not been blown back to reality.”

And Serena does know about that part well, they’ve discussed Alex and the affair in detail. It was clear a few months into their relationship that Serena’s biggest insecurity was that, while she trusted and trusts Bernie that the pain and suffering Edward had put her through, we’re definitely made more present by the knowledge that Bernie had too had an affair. Bernie had opened her heart to Serena, admit in a way that could confuse some that it was like she was a different person. She doesn’t excuse her affair, but she could explain it in some way. That it was like she had two separate personalities the one who was married to Marcus, had two children and would keep their sexuality hidden forever. And this second one who was made to come alive by Alex, that she didn’t do it to hurt Marcus or the kids but because she needed to feel something after so long of hating herself. That in some ways it worked but in others it made her hate herself more as she wasn’t that kind of person.

“You know as well as anyone that if it hadn’t had been for the IED and Alex, that I’d probably still be married to Marcus and still burying that part of me. Though it seems we’ve digressed from the initial point of this conversation.”

Serena’s answer is instantaneous, “But we haven’t though.” Serena says gently, and Bernie’s face is enough for Serena’s thoughts to be confirmed, that she herself needs to step in now and help her girlfriend understand.

“Everything you’ve just told me has led to us being here now.” Serena squeezes Bernie’s hand tightly then because there is no one else she could imagine a future with. “But that doesn’t make it okay, and I don’t mean what you did, I’ve already said you did what you had to. But it doesn’t make it okay that you had to. Does that make sense?” Bernie shakes her head gently, and Serena is so glad their relationship is built upon trust and honestly, that it’s allowing them to have this conversation.

“From what you’ve said to me today, I get why you behaved and acted the way you did for so long. I get why you hid the real you. You were forced so wrongly to do what you did; you made a choice to make your father and grandfather proud, but in doing so you were given no choice but to hide who you truly are. By the time you did have a chance to be honest about any of it, you’d been forced for too long to lie about it that it was too late. The damage had already been done. You’d already been forced to be something and somebody you were never destined to be. You should never have been put in that position and no one who hasn’t been in that position will ever understand what the mental torture of that did to you.”

“But it’s partially my fault, I chose to join, and I chose to stay. I can’t complain not when my colleagues were literally stripped of their medals, tortured and criminalised for it. That I at least got a choice to see it through to the end.”

“But that’s the point I’m making, it should never have been a choice the way it was. You shouldn’t have been made to choose between your true self and making your dad and grandfather proud, in continuing the Wolfe family name. Those two things shouldn’t have been mutually exclusive. The fact you were made to hide yourself to the point we both know you hated yourself is wrong. I think right now in your head you think that this apology for all the historic hurt that has been caused doesn’t include you. That because despite everything you managed to stay in the army to become a renowned front line trauma surgeon and medic. I think you don’t think you deserve this apology. I don’t think that you understand that while your colleagues and friends went through their own traumas with their sexuality being discovered that you went through your own kind of emotional trauma. The constant worry of being found out, either by the army or Marcus or the kids. The fact that you took on board so much of what was said to you that you literally hated yourself for being gay, something that you know as well as I do, you have absolutely no control over tells me that you deserve this apology just as much as anyone else. That you were hurt by the historic ban and far from thinking you aren’t brave you should know just how bloody brave you were, you are, be here where you are right now.”

She’s not sure at which point during Serena’s words the tears come, but come they do and they don’t seem to stop. She is pulled into Serena arms allows the steady beating of Serena’s heartbeat to calm her, to remind her that she did make it thought. That maybe Serena is right and she does have a right to accept the apology for the unacceptable historical chapter of the armed forces that was part of so much of her service. That she isn’t the one who needs to be ashamed, she’s risked her life for her country and that the only thing that was wrong in any of it was the institutionalised hatred she was forced to face every day. That on the contrary she has so much to be proud of, that she won’t ever let anyone make her ashamed again for being the LGBT veteran that she is and always will be.

[pers-books]

Top 10s Meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit - thanks for the tag (I think! 😜)

Rules: List your “top 10” (or up to 10 if you haven’t written that many) fics ranked by kudos on AO3. Are you surprised by what’s most popular to your readers? Then, under a cut, provide your ranking of your personal top 10 fics (with explanations if you want!), and then tag a few fellow writers!

My top 10 fics by kudos:

Letters to a Naturalist (Holby City) (30,350 words) Kudos: 203

Jason Haynes: Matchmaker (Holby City) (17,560 words) Kudos: 186

The Red String of Fate (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)) (51,896 words) Kudos: 183

One Life Stand (Holby City) (33,815 words) Kudos: 161

The Hacktivist, The Agent, and the Clairvoyant (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Thor (Movies)) (35,849 words) Kudos: 155 

The Locum (Holby City) (9,202 words) Kudos: 148 

Bean and Gone (Holby City) (11,880 words) Kudos: 147 

It's not a date - it's just dinner at a fancy restaurant (Holby City) (9,100 words) Kudos: 138 

Action and Reaction (Star Trek: Discovery) (1,783 words) Kudos: 135 

Berenice Wolfe's Romantic Heart (Holby City) (6,000 words) Kudos: 13

I guess my only surprise is that there’s only one Disco (Star Trek: Discovery) fic in there, but it’s rather nice that apart from #3 and #5, they’re all Sapphic fics! Actually, I’m slightly surprised there are no James Bond (Craig)/M (Dench) fics in my Top 10 - in fact, I’ve just checked and I’d have to list my Top **40** before I hit a Bond fic - and then it doesn’t even have 100 Kudos! (Mind, I’m not complaining that my Holby fics are vastly more popular!)

I haven’t really considered which are my Top 10 fics - I like things when I’m writing them, then I don’t tend to give them much thought because I’ve already moved on to writing something else!!

But, that said (and in no particular order because Dammit, Janet, I am not gonna try to rank my own fics!):

Letters to a Naturalist (30,350 words) (Holby City) - this one is ALWAYS gonna be a fave because it was a fic I wrote over several months, sending copies of physical letters used in the fic to a member of the Berena fandom and at the time I got a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction out of doing it that way.

Snapshots: Four New Beginnings (12,960 words) (Holby City) - I had great fun giving Bernie different careers in the Arts and finding ways for her and Serena to meet.

The Name's Wolfe, Berenice Wolfe: 007, Licensed to Thrill (3,200 words) (Holby City) - and on the topic of AUs, Bernie Wolfe as a 007 Agent was just a fun way to combine an old fandom (Bond) with a new one.

The Long Road to Happiness (8,140 words) (Holby City) - oh look ANOTHER AU! Quelle surprise! 😜 This time Bernie and Serena were child actors together and Bernie fell in love, but Serena gave up acting, got married, had a child, and Bernie continued to carry a torch...

McKinnie and Wolfe: Monster Hunters (6,000 words) (Holby City) - written for a Holby Monster Mash and inspired by a collection of short stories by a favourite author, I just had great fun with this one.

Lascia Ch'io Pianga (Let Me Lament My Cruel Fate) (750 words) (James Bond) - the first time I’ve ever written a fic with an ambiguous ending. Funny thing is, some readers asked me to write a second chapter or sequel fic and I did try, but I just couldn’t make it work.

Sing In Me, Muse (1,362 words) (Star Trek: Discovery) - this was an AU fix-it for S1 of Disco and I love its simplicity and tenderness.

Beyond the Battle at the Binary Stars I (768 words) & Beyond the Battle at the Binary Stars II (1,379 words) (Star Trek: Discovery) - another AU fix-it for S1 of Disco in 2 parts that I found deeply satisfying to write.

Joy Is Not Made To Be A Crumb (8,500 words) (Doctor Who 2005) - a rarepair ship (Kate Stewart and Martha Jones) that I’ve always known will never attain any kind of popularity, but I don’t care - I just love writing them!

The Winter Queen, The Summer King, and the Spring Knight (9,536 words) (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.) - this only has 30 Kudos, but I like it because it takes the mythology of AoS and combines it with fairytale and I think I did that rather neatly.

Who to tag? Well: @slightlyintimidating @doctorjameswatson @lapalfruity @daisydoctor13 @ceridwyn2 @riversofmars @meluisart @onaperduamedee @backjustforberena @hokuspokusthings - with the usual caveat that you don’t have to participate if you’re not feeling it.

[eraisme]

88, plz

88. What color looks best on you and why?

AN: I realize I never actually answered the question in this fic, but I didn't realize it until it was finished. So...here. I'm sorry. LOL.

“I was going through the things you ordered.” Serena says with an amused smile, a box in front of her as she sits on the sofa in the living area of their Spanish villa.

Bernie holds the mug of tea between her hands, lidded because of the tremors which her hands constantly seemed to display. It was something she was getting better with, something she knows therapy would help in the long run, but it was still frustrating. “Was it too much?”

“No, of course not.” Serena shakes her head, watching as the woman takes a seat, “I was just taking a gander at the jumpers, among other things, that you chose.” There’s still a smile on her face as she sets each one on the table, still within their plastic coverings, “matcha, alpine, seaweed, clover...notice anything?”

“They’re all green.” Bernie sighs to herself, just looking over the jumpers as she lowers herself to the sofa, “I just...didn’t realize, I suppose.” She carefully takes a sip of her tea before setting it on the other end of the coffee table. Bernie appears disappointed in herself and her decisions regarding her first real purchase since the start of her recovery from captivity. 

“Well, you look quite fetching in all things green.” Serena pulls out a few more, “and the different sizes help in other purchases.” She knew the woman had lost weight, which there wasn’t much to lose in the first place, “meaning, if you realize the green one isn’t something you like, we could either return it for another color, or buy another color in the proper size.”

Bernie nods a little, “I just...I was hoping I wouldn’t muck it up too much.”

“Bernie, it was a mistake.” Serena shakes her head, “and a humorous one at that. Nothing we can’t return, nothing that isn’t easily solvable.”

“Okay.” Bernie leans back against the sofa, just watching each piece of clothing as Serena removes it from the box. “I-I hadn’t realized that I-”

“Bernie, you have nothing else. Just a jacket that I kept of ours. Otherwise, the rest was donated to a charity shop.” Serena sighs softly, watching the other woman, “there is nothing for you to apologize for. What there is, is a significant number of things for you to try on.” She smirks, “so, would you want to do that now or wait...” Serena pauses, “what doesn’t fit you, I can take right back to the shop for a refund and you can try something else.”

Bernie was incredibly thankful for Serena since she was far too anxious to venture into public just yet. Nothing on a large scale like the expensive department store from which they were purchased. She hasn’t even been comfortable enough to see the others in her family just yet, and a part of her even dreads seeing them. Disappointing them with her living status.

Just Serena.

“You shouldn’t coddle me like you do.” Bernie shakes her head a little, “I-I’m being weak and...pathetic. I’ve forced you to care-”

“Bernie, I can’t be forced to do anything. You know that as well as anyone.” Serena pauses, “in fact, you probably know that better than anyone...in the world.” She smiles to herself, the thought bittersweet. Had she not broken things off with Bernie because of Serena’s own selfish behavior, Bernie wouldn’t be in the predicament that she was. “What do you think about a walk?” She offers, “either around here or we can go to a park. Just...somewhere that isn't in the house.” Serena watches the other woman, “I know you might not be comfortable with that, and if you aren’t, that’s absolutely fine. We can try another day.”

“Let’s...let’s try another day.” Bernie moves her gaze to look at the clothing more closely, unable to meet Serena’s eyes at the moment, not wanting to see her disappointment, “I don’t think I’m up for that at the moment.”

“Absolutely. It’s a tad warm outside anyway.” Serena attempts to lighten the atmosphere, “so, how about a bit of a try-on session?” She pauses, “do you need help with the jumpers?” Serena absently motions to her own shoulder, knowing how it was an issue for Bernie when she had been released from hospital. Since then, though the action may be absent, she’s been wearing button up tops. Serena is well aware that it’s probably so that she doesn’t need to ask for assistance.

It’s the way Bernie hesitates, the way she looks past Serena without looking at her when she speaks to her...and that’s weeks, nearly a month after her release from hospital. San Sebastián de los Reyes was the perfect town to settle in for them, just along the outskirts of Madrid. It allowed Bernie to watch from a window, to feel at one with the people, while not actually being present with them. The perfect place to heal.

“Bernie?”

It’s when she hears Serena call her name that Bernie realizes she was just staring, “sorry.” She sighs softly, mostly frustrated with herself. “I can do that.”

“How about I help you as well?” Serena offers, and when it seems like Bernie is about to argue, she shakes her head, “I insist.” She waves her brow, teasing her former lover. “Also, I’m joking about any ulterior motives. All of my motives are absolutely pure, cross my heart.”

Bernie thinks about it for a moment before nodding, “and you won’t...” She pauses, “you won’t overreact?”

“Why would I overreact?” It isn’t lost on Serena just how childlike Bernie appears at this moment. How nervous she currently is. Serena shakes her head a little, “of course I wouldn’t overreact.” She stands, wanting to be closer for the woman, “did you want to try these out here or-”

Leaning in, Bernie captures Serena’s lips suddenly, softly, before pulling away after a moment. Her chin trembles with anxious energy, ready to hear Serena’s chastising or teasing voice after. Something to show her that she was barking up the wrong tree. Serena’s probably moved on, she should have moved on.

Serena just stares at Bernie’s face, noticing the blonde averting her gaze after a moment. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you in hospital.” She doesn’t try instigating another right away, “is that something you want, Bernie?” Serena pauses, “is this something you’d...you’d like to try again?”

“Having lived it...I can’t imagine my life without you.” Bernie’s voice is just above a whisper, “but I’m...in no shape to-���

“I can wait.” Serena nods a little, “I can wait until you’re ready...even if that’s until the end of time.” She starts to grin, noticing Bernie’s blush and subtle smile. “You’re stuck with me at this point.” Serena decides not to continue to focus on what just happened much longer, motioning with a tilt of her head, “in here or bedroom?”

“Can we...wait until later, actually?” Bernie asks cautiously, “I won’t...I won’t wait until-”

“We will get to it when we get to it.” Serena nods a little, motioning to the mug of tea sitting on the coffee table, “finish your cuppa and we’ll watch a bit of telly. How does that sound?” Seeing Bernie’s nod, Serena gently moves the box of clothing behind the sofa, “would you like to sit together?”

“Yes...I think I would.”

[sarahlancashire]

i'm extremely upset about what the shortland street writers have done to leanne and rosalyn.

ros cheating on leanne is antithetical to her character; besides which, they were madly, head over heels in love. and now, apparently, the same woman who told leanne she'd love her until her dying day, who proposed to her in front of everyone she cares about, was having an affair only months later? really???

it really hurts me that rosalyn is being treated this way, because i love her so much. she's honestly one of my most favourite sapphic characters that i've ever come across, and they're doing her such a disservice by making her out to be the kind of person that would do this.

what also bothers me is the way this parallels what the holby writers did to bernie and serena. serena, another character i loved very deeply, whose philandering husband had broken her heart, and who was so fiercely loyal and deeply in love with bernie, who would have given up her whole life to move across the world with her, told her she chose her over everything else, would never have cheated on her, but, apparently, when tv writers want a plot device to break a couple up, characterisation goes out of the window!!!!

unsurprisingly, the whole ros / leanne breakup is happening while ros remains offscreen. i understand that theresa was a guest cast member, but really, this is another knife in the back. they're telling us ros has left leanne, but they're not even letting us see her, hear it from her, try to make sense of it; but that's part of the problem, isn't it, because it doesn't make any sense. and, in the same way that bernie died offscreen, another sapphic character is destroyed from behind the scenes.

i realise that bernie was revealed not to have died eventually, and that she and serena reunited, and, yes, i am glad, but that doesn't make up for their having broken them up in that way or having killed her off in the first place. it doesn't ameliorate the damage which had already been done, and it doesn't mean they didn't conform to the bury your gays trope after what they'd already done with elinor's death.

so, is this what we're doing now, soap writers, when we want to break up two women? just deciding, arbitrarily, that one of them has an affair, and / or making something awful happen offscreen, where the viewers can't see it?

because that doesn't help. it doesn't make it better. it still hurts, very deeply, even if we can't see where the pain is coming from.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

A really good episode tonight, all things considered.

I will say, though, it still doesn’t compare to Holby’s “We Need To Talk About Fredrik”. In all fairness, very few things could. WNTTAF was a brilliant episode with exquisite writing. It’s one of the best episodes for Henrik as a character ever. In addition, WNTTAF was before the “murderous son” trope got overused and overused again and again. There was a very strong impact back when Henrik was completely alone and isolated, when no one else around him could possibly relate to what he was going through, not even people who had lost a child themselves (e.g. Ric and Serena).

Compare to now. Someone could just give David Henrik’s or Bernie’s phone numbers and he’d have not even one, but two people to talk to who have been in his EXACT position. It makes the Ollie story lose so much of the impact it might’ve had.

Also, what has the school shooting aspect added to the storyline except for ~shock value~? I don’t think they should ever have killed Ollie off, I think it’s a stupid decision because he was one of the Casualty kids with the most potential. But if they really wanted to... what have we gained from this storyline, what has it done for the characters, that Ollie simply committing suicide (possibly even a suicide pact with Rob, if you still wanted to have him as part of the story) could not? Now THAT would have been realistic, and it would’ve been just as dark and horrific and sad. And you still have the whole idea of the unanswered question of “Why did Ollie do this?”. I’m thinking of something like the Aidan suicide story on Corrie, where he just killed himself, seemingly at random, leaving no explanation for why and his family had to come to terms with that... that would’ve been powerful.

And it would’ve kept David’s normality and relatability as a character. The tragedy of a teenaged child committing suicide is far more real and something far more people can identify with than the tragedy of a child shooting up their class.

I have a lot of thoughts on how this takes away from David’s normality and relatability as a character in general, actually. I think I’ll put them in their own separate post though, but it fundamentally boils down to “part of what made him so engaging, and so important for representation, was that he was just an average dude dealing with bipolar and this takes away from that”. Henrik could get away with this storyline because he was never ‘average’ or ‘normal’ as a character. (I’m not using that as a synonym for his autism - I’d call Dylan, for example, an ‘average’ character, and he’s autistic. I mean it in the sense of the kind of character Henrik was.) He always felt slightly like he was in the wrong kind of show, and belonged in a piece of media with more heightened drama, something much more unrealistic than the show he was in was supposed to be. Therefore, having an unrealistic, heightened-drama shooting storyline with his son worked.

That is not true of David Hide. (Nor was it true of Bernie Wolfe.)

At any rate, the biggest aspect of this storyline - David’s grief for Ollie - has been written very very well, and of course acted very very well. That trend continued tonight.

The scenes with David and Rosalene were just FANTASTIC. Loved them. Although I still feel like recasting Rosalene was a mistake... I hope they tried to get the original actress back, because if they tried and she said no, then I get it - it’s better to recast Rosalene than not have her involved at all. But I just feel like the original actress would’ve been able to play this storyline better, since she’s actually acted with Harry Collett before.

Jason Durr was wonderful, as always - whoever it is that decides who to nominate for BAFTAs, I hope you’re watching, because Jason Durr needs a BAFTA.

And the writing... Rosalene essentially in denial, David wanting to move on and try to forget Ollie entirely... gah, it was brilliant. Lindsey Alford is a great writer - she did the episode where Paula gave birth too, which was also magnificent.

These are the kinds of scenes I wish we’d had with Henrik and Maja. Maybe not this exact dynamic, because it wouldn’t ring true for those specific characters, but just the whole general idea of them both trying to deal with what Fredrik did in different ways.

I’m surprised how much hate I’m seeing for Rosalene on social media. She did say a lot of awful things to David tonight, a lot of them very ableist, and I cannot defend or excuse that but... is she really a “bitch”? Really? She’s grieving her son just like he is and that needs to be accounted for IMO. (Granted, I don’t remember a lot about her previous appearances and I haven’t seen her very first episode. I don’t know what she was like before this. But my point still stands.)

Susan is cute, albeit a random choice of a character to bring back. And there’s a continuity error that annoys me (I went back and watched her original appearance from Christmas 2019 again to remind myself who she was before this episode aired) - David did actually tell her he had a son in her first appearance. Still, I suppose maybe she forgot details like that.

Also, them bringing in a love interest for David, first of all, makes me sad about what they did to his and Rosa’s relationship again, and second, makes me sad because you know this storyline isn’t gonna end well. No way he’s in any state for a relationship at the moment.

Also... I want Susan’s quote “Why can’t people understand that psychosis doesn’t mean you’re dangerous?” on a t-shirt or something. I also want to yell that quote at the top of my lungs whenever I think about the Gaskell storyline from Holby. And whenever I think about how many people were FINE with that storyline, and how many people STILL say “Oh, Holby was so good at handling mental health!!”, as though a show handling depression well on occasion makes it totally okay that they portrayed psychotic people as evil (it does not).

Anyway, even after that line tonight, I expect people to still keep performatively shouting about how “Casualty is saying mental illness makes you a bad person!!” while continuing to say nothing about Holby’s Gaskell story, because no one cared about John and his portrayal, because John was an older psychotic man and not a sad teenage boy like Ollie.

Moving onto the other storylines, I really liked the patient story with the young boy and his brother (the actor playing the older kid was very good too), and I liked how Dylan dealt with the situation. His quote about some children being way too loyal to parents who don’t care... that speaks volumes. Gah. It always gets me when Dylan alludes to his childhood.

If the rest of series 37 is going to keep up this theme about the government screwing over the NHS, good. The fact that it’s making people on Twitter whine about Casualty “becoming too political” is a good sign. Casualty was literally made to be political, that’s the whole point.

Also, they’re still really doing a good job of making the ED feel busy. Props to them for that.

Also also, it still amuses me that I joked they’d go full-on with the whole ‘ripping off the Fredrik storyline’ theme and name an episode “We Need To Talk About Ollie” and then they... actually did. I get it, it’s an obvious reference, but it’s also a bit too specific a title to use twice, I think.

Anyway, next week we get 2 episodes, which is wild because I thought they’d stop the double episodes after they went back to 50 minutes.

[fortytworedvines]

A failed escape

It was a gentle, warm morning. The sunlight filtered through the shutters and Bernie sighed into the comfort of her pillow, the reassuring weight of Serena pressing against her back, one leg slung over her hip.

It was perfect.

They never moved fast in the mornings but eventually they drifted together into the kitchen, to put on the coffee and make some toast. And then -

“What’s that?” Bernie asked, sudden fear making her voice raspy.

Serena followed her gaze to the innocent looking envelope lying by the door. “Oh no,” she breathed. “Oh no.”

“You said you’d left!” Bernie picked it up as gingerly, holding it as though it was burning her. The Holby City logo threatened them from one corner.

“I did!”

Bernie put the envelope on the table and they stared at it.

“Well then,” Serena said briskly. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.” She tore the envelope open and tugged the contents out, then stared at it blankly. “Bernie – it’s...”

Bernie’s throat closed up at the look on Serena’s face. “Bernie, it’s you.”

Bernie reached out for the papers and they were crisp in her fingers. Real. She scanned the top page slowly.

“How did they find me?” she breathed. “I tried so hard.”

“I remember,” Serena said wryly, but Bernie carried on.

“I planted the dog tags, I made sure my blood was all over the body armour. I was gone, Serena.”

Serena’s hand covered Bernie’s clenched fingers. “What do they want you back for? How long?”

Bernie flipped through the pages rapidly. “A couple of weeks.” She leant her head against Serena’s, turned another page. “They’re blowing me up again!”

[honeycombwerewolfe]

Bernie’s New Journal

The binding creaked, pages flitting from her thumb like the shuffle of a worn deck of cards as she opened it. It wasn’t thickened by damp ruined pages or mementos shoved between pages. The leather bound journal was crisp and new...pages unfilled. White textured paper staring back at her: waiting. Serena had tried to give Bernie’s journal back a while ago but Bernie had told her to keep it. That -

“- it was always meant for you, Serena.”

She had plenty of opportunities to start up again when she moved in with Serena but she never even took the plastic off the new one Serena bought her. There were plenty of excuses she could give but the truth was Bernie was afraid of the words she would fill those pages with. Afraid even if she tried to fill it with plants and Serena...that the militia would bleed through until the journal was saturated with everything Bernie wanted least to think about.

A little over a month had passed since the explosion at Holby. There had been plenty to keep her busy...but now there was too much quiet for her thoughts to spill into. Instead of spending another day crying out all her energy until she was a zombie...instead of allowing herself to drag Serena through the pain of being the only thing carrying Bernie through her grief...Bernie picked up the journal and decided to at least try to pick up some of the slack. Sat curled up in a reading chair with a hot cup of coffee and a pen, she stared warily down at the first page.

She scribbled the city and date at the top, mostly so she wouldn’t have the blank page looming there.

.

I’ve only melted down once today. All things considered, a better day than yesterday. I’m worried about Charlie. Some time away from that flat would be good for her. People have the potential for such cruelty under the cowardice of anonymity. Crueler still when the mob feeds into it. I swung by again Tu Wednes no, Tuesday to help clean up the latest graffiti and make sure she was eating. The inside of her flat may have actually been worse off than anything anyone else did to the outside. She’s still refusing to come stay with Serena and me at the B&B. It may have been a tight fit when she slept on the bed here with Serena and me the last time but it was good to have her near again.

.

The pages filled on the days that followed were much the same. Entrees that followed the footprints of one Major Berenice Wolfe through dreary day after dreary day. Cam’s death and the events surrounding it were never mentioned but they were still present underneath each entree...permeating every activity, action, and emotion of herself and those around her.

[bonnissance]

currently untitled ~1k teen rated stocking filler for @berenasecretsanta

I wanted biscuits, Jess wanted mistletoe, the kitchen was compulsory, the tradition was accidental, and the ornament is direct in concept if oblique in execution.

CW: sensory overload, some sort of panic flare/anxiety attack, body feels, canon deaths (just the Serena’s family ones don’t worry), serena’s internalised unworthiness rears an ugly head, but it’s mainly some kitchen antics angst with a happy ending

It was Bernie idea, to begin with; once Charlotte asked to bring her partner to Christmas lunch before any of them had really decided on who should host what and where this year, Bernie leapt at the chance without really thinking.

She hadn’t spent that night on the sofa, but it was a near thing, after informing Serena they were due to host a verifiable banquet in a fortnight without so much as a shopping list in preparation.

Once the dust settled, though, Serena rather came round to the idea, of having an enormous spread and a trussed up tree, the house full of people and food and joy.

It was exactly what they needed, to put the years past behind them.

So when Bernie asked to decorate the tree in edible decorations, and to bake those decorations themselves, Serena was the one who leapt at the chance: not just to fight off the spectors of her dead dearly departed and the decorations three generations of McKinney women hung every year till Adrienne decided Elinor was old enough to do without Serena’s presence currently burning a hole in their attic because she still can’t bring herself to throw them out; but also to give her and Bernie a way forward after, well, everything.

A fresh start for the two of them, together.

So off she went to find the sturdiest looking recipes she could, plus a gluten free alternative for Charlotte. Researched everything they would need for everything to be perfect. Even managed to get them most of the same afternoon off work, barely a two hour lag between the end of their shifts, to have the evening to do everything together.

She should have known it would end in disaster.

Opening the front door to a noseful of cinnamon and clove wafting thick in the air should have been the first clue. The off key humming floating from the kitchen should have been the second; though, indeed, that did bring a frown to her brow as she tip toed up the hallway, suspicion beginning to crawl up her spine.

She would never have imagined what was waiting for her till she saw it with her own eyes: dishes stacked high on the sink, the washer ajar and waiting to be emptied, every bench space covered with something from wire cooling racks to cracked egg shells to spilt icing.

And in the middle of it all: Bernie, a halo of flour around her head, a smudge of food colouring on her cheek, dried batter on her neck as she rolled out a sheet of dough.

Serena gapes, horrified, at the state of the room before her. Inhales deeply, struggling to keep her composure, and steps over the threshold.

Sugar crunches under the sole of her shoe.

A shiver grates up her spin, locking her jaw and wrenching at the back of her throat. She swallows, thankful she left her shoes on, that she can’t feel the granuals under her socks, pressing into her flesh, as the second to last tie of her temper begin to unravel. 

She opens her mouth, intent on giving Bernie a piece of her mind—specifically, the furious and outraged part—when she notices the one thing in the whole kitchen not in disarray: a glass of red sitting primly next to the breathing bottle, loving poured and waiting for her.

All the breath in her lungs leaves her in great woosh, taking her anger with it. Something thick runs across her chest as tears springing to her eyes, and she just manages to creak out a plea.

‘Bernie.’

A head of messy blonde hair snaps towards her, the eyes underneath widening as Bernie realises she isn’t along, wider still as she finally registers the state of the kitchen around her, and wider again when she sees the look on Serena’s face.

She drops the rolling pin, knocking a nearby bowl. The clatter of porcelain on wood and the breaking of biscuits echo as she rushes forward, already apologising for the mess, reaching up to cradle Serena’s face as she promises she’ll clean everything, only falling silent to wipe away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb.

Serena shakes her head, more hot water leaking from her eyes, struggling to breathe evenly. She grounds herself by inhaling in time with Bernie’s thumb stroking her cheek. 

‘It’s not that,’ she finally whispers around the lump in her throat, pressing a kiss to Bernie’s palm. ‘I’m not impressed by it, obviously, but…Not that.’

‘Then, what?’ Bernie urges, frowning as Serena cradles a hand in her own, tangling their fingers together before guiding it to relax, palm to palm, between them.

‘You poured me wine.’

The frown deepens, accompanied by a tilted head. ‘Yes?’

Serena inhales deeply, feels her back unlock, words tumbling out her mouth with frightening honesty.

‘It was thoughtless, racing ahead like this on something we were meant to do together. Leaving me behind like you don’t want me, like you can’t wait to get away from me. But you poured me wine,’ she adds, her voice softening to just above a whisper as she tightens her grip tenderly. ‘So it was waiting for me.’

‘Of course I did,’ Bernie breathes out, barely a murmur. She looks deep into Serena’s eyes, a curl tighening at the corner of her mouth. ‘I love you.’

Serena breaks away with a sob, hand flying to her mouth to muffle the next gasp as she sucks in a shaky breath. She can’t help it, the affect those words have on her. She’s still working on hearing it and believing it.

Bernie does not move, keeping her distance until Serena steps back. Only then does she reach up to rub a palm over Serena’s back, soft sweeping circles until Serena looks at her again.

‘Serena, I love you,’ Bernie whispers, her finger under Serena’s quivering chin, keeping eye contact through tear studded lashed. Her gaze is soft but determined. ‘And I’ll always make space for you.’

Serena practically launches herself across the seven inches separating them, throwing her arms around Bernie’s shoulders to pull her as close as humanly possibly. Buries her hands in that golden halo as she catches Bernie’s lips in a deep, toe curling kiss.

‘Guess I won’t be needing mistletoe this year,’ Bernie pants softly against her lips when they finally break apart, some time later.

‘As if I need an excuse to kiss you.’

Bernie smiles, ghosting another kiss to Serena’s top lip. Draws back, barely an inch, to check the timer on the latest batch of biscuits. She hums, resolute, and looks back with sparkling eyes full of mischief and want. ‘Prove it.’

Serena beams, already pulling them from the mess of the kitchen. Pushes Bernie against the spotless dining room table to do just that.

[reluctantwonderchild]

The Actions of Grief

Under the cut for a really long post

@honeycombwerewolfe

Professionally, Charlie had it all covered. A job that was going well with plenty of career prospects. From most people’s perspectives, she had it all going her way. Personally, though, it was completely different.

The past two years had been difficult, and that was an understatement. Dealing with her mother’s ‘death’ had been horrible but survivable. A shock, that hit her squarely in the chest and had knocked her off balance for quite some time. But she’d managed to right herself, eventually. Instead of trying to live up to Bernie’s image, like Cam had, Charlie focused on working hard to be the best she could be. The best of herself, and not her mother. As it turned out, that and burying herself in her work had really kept her together over the months that followed. Charlie flourished while Cam floundered. Later on, Charlie would be filled with a guilt that she hadn’t been able to help her brother. Hadn’t spotted the signs. It would be something that haunted her for a long time.

Then she had found out that Bernie was alive after all, and that came with its own challenges. Sure, she was filled with many positive emotions that her mother wasn’t dead, but it was difficult to process something when the person involved was living in another country. When you couldn’t touch them or really make sense of how you should be feeling about it all. Still, Charlie carried on. She tried to do the right thing for Bernie. To be around but give her the space she clearly needed. To give Bernie the time to heal and trust that she would survive it all.

In the end, it was Cam’s actions that threatened to do the most damage. The murders, his abusive behaviour. That someone she loved so dearly, someone she thought she knew so well, could do those things. It was unfathomable.

After Cam went to prison, Charlie was left on her own. People avoided her but she could still sense the eyes staring. Boring holes into her back. Judging her. She would be forever linked to Cam. Not the brother or doctor, nor the kind and caring person she’d grown up with. But Cam the killer. Bernie was in Spain, Marcus was in London. Charlie was an easy target for those local and with enough knowledge to guess who she was.

First came the spray paint on her door. Next the letters. She kept a file of them. Evidence in case the police ever decided to investigate. Charlie vowed to never let anyone scare her out of her own home but they came close.

The end of her brother’s life came all too quickly. Charlie hadn’t even been told that Bernie had come over to see him until it was all over.

Cam was dead. Her parents were left grieving the loss of a child.

And Charlie. Charlie was left with the grief. With pain and with anger. So much anger. Stuck in the middle, feeling the pressure of needing to live up to an imaginary idea of what she and Cam could have achieved. Of having to now face the future without Cam. Of separating her arguing parents on her own. It was overwhelming.

The stares and whispers did not stop. If anything, they only got worse.

One saving grace was Cam having a private burial. It took a weight off Charlie’s shoulders. Enough had been made public recently. She couldn’t bear this day being dragged through the gutter too.

In the end she had left her parents and Serena to their grief. Walking slowly back through the streets, coat pulled tightly around herself, Charlie moved on autopilot, making her way back to her home in a daze. There she found an unopened bottle of vodka and a hook up app.

In the end it had been all too easy. A swipe here. A message there. To ask for what she thought she needed. What she thought might help. A temporary plaster against the tidal wave of sorrow threatening to break her. The amount of vodka she’d drunk had a lot to answer for. As did her sudden desire to do something risky. To have someone come along and take away her ability to focus on anything but the moment. To feel good again for the first time in ages.

Not that it really worked out that way. From what she could remember it wasn’t that enjoyable a night, and it was going to come back to bite her in the arse. In the most embarrassing way.

The man she picked up, she couldn’t remember his name, went straight to the local rag. An article was published. One everyone she knew would read. One her parents would read. Her lowest, possibly most desperate moment, on show for everyone to see. Another way to disappoint her parents. Another way to torture herself that she wasn’t enough.

[berenasecretsanta]

She feels Bernie’s ribcage rise and fall as she laughs, silently, puffs of air on Serena’s neck, “Glad to hear you made an exception.”

“Yes.” The frost is a soft white, cloud on the other side of the glass. She looks at the woman curled under her arm: the bright eyes and curled toes and pink lips that’d kissed her soft and said the words that broke her heart. She’d held a grudge, so big and bitter and angry.

There were a lot of exceptions for you, she wants to say, knows she’ll make a hundred more. Except, she can’t.

Outside, the wind picks up with a gentle roar. It picked the snow from the windowsills, stole it from the clouds. The window rattles. It’s an oddly melodic sound. It must have been decades since she’d lived in a building with windows that moved. Reminds her of school snow-days, of watching storms. Back in England, it had never fallen so hard as this.

“Speaking of unbearable show-offs, did I ever tell you about this boy back when I was a student in Edinburgh…”

[backjustforberena]

Dialogue from a fic I’ll never write: 

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“W-Why?”

“Well... 18 months. It’s plenty of time for you to... move on. Find someone else. Be happy.” 

“Mm.” She made a noise at the back of her throat in response. Serena looked away, not unsharply, at the words, away from Bernie. She sank her gaze into the contents of her glass, taking a large sip of Shiraz. There wasn’t much to say to that, and she didn’t quite feel safe enough to tell Bernie that there had been no possibility of happiness: not without her. She felt Bernie’s gaze on her, for a few seconds, till Bernie cleared her throat. Serna looked back up to see Bernie with her lips pursed, looking down at the bruises still present on her wrists.

[madam-wakefield]

Fairy lights

Why does Serena have so many fairy lights? My little drabble written for the @berenaadvent day 18 prompt "fairy lights"

Read on A03

“Why does one need so many fairy lights?” Bernie questions confused as she opens a large box that is literally full of smaller boxes of fairy lights. It’s the first Christmas where she is living with Serena and they had wanted to keep to Serena’s tradition of decorating on the first weekend of December, thankful they’d managed to get one shared day off to allow them to do so.

Bernie had, being Bernie been the one who insisted on getting all of the boxes out of the loft and now the living room is so full of boxes that Bernie wonders silently if there aren’t more boxes here now than when she moved in. She’d lost nearly everything physical during her split with Marcus, he’d keep nearly every possession from the house, even though most of them had been accumulated during their time together. She’s just thankful she had a good enough solicitor that he didn’t manage to take all of the money too, and he definitely won’t be entitled to a penny of her hard earned army pension.

She’s brought out of her musing by Serena’s reply. “One can never have too many fairy lights. First there is the ones for the trees, both the one in here and the one in the conservatory. Then there are the fairy lights that go in the windows, and then I have a set or two that I like to put outside, though I must admit without Elinor’s help they haven’t been able to go up the past few years. Jason doesn’t feel comfortable enough holding the ladder and instead likes to reel off facts about how many people get seriously injured each year from falling off ladders, as if my job didn’t give me an insight into that.

So that is how Bernie and Serena spend the majority of their day, ensuring the fairy lights around the house are perfect. Once the inside lights are finished Bernie insist, she’s the one who goes up the ladder, big macho army medic and all that. It’s how she spends over an hour up a ladder outside their house hanging fairy lights to the guttering. By the times she’s finished her hands are numb with cold but it’s worth it to see the smile on Serena’s face when both her feet are finally back on solid ground.

That night when Bernie goes up to bed a few minutes after Serena, having offered to be the one to ensure the dishwasher was on and all the lights have been turned off, the last thing she expects to find is Serena naked expect for the fairy lights that she’s managed to expertly managed to wrap around her body, and well they are one set of lights Bernie definitely doesn’t mind untangling.

[pers-books]

Rules: Write the latest line from your WiP (or post where you last  left  off in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the   line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

Tagged by @thisbluespirit - thanks!

Well, I’ve got two WiPs on the go since my Bitch Muse decided to accede to reader requests for a second chapter of Operation Secret Santa so:

“That’s very sweet of you.”

And then there’s the ‘House-sitter AU’, which is canon divergent in that Bernie never worked at Holby and was blown up in Mogadishu, but not taken captive, then retired from the RAMC. And Serena moved to Devon after quitting Holby.

“Of course.”

Tagging @slightlyintimidating @lapalfruity @fortytworedvines @akaanonymouth @doctorjameswatson @jinxedwood - with absolutely no obligation to participate if you’d rather not, of course!

[eraisme]

15

15. If you could indulge in anything without consequence, what would it be?

AN: Some of these prompts are proving to be more difficult than others, but we're getting there!

Bernie sits down, working on the paperwork in front of her. After the very small gathering they had as a welcoming ‘home’ type of situation, there were plenty of baked goods and food that were brought around. Many they had all consumed as a gift, but the sweet pastry balls that her daughter had made were generally untouched, having accidentally gotten pushed to the back of the group without anyone noticing.

Taking another in her mouth, Bernie hums softly. These are quite good. Writing a few other things onto the paper, she suddenly realizes how tired she’s growing. Far more tired than she originally thought she was. However, there was still more to write down. The joys of moving house. 

Serena pads down the stairs of their new home, having noticed her wife still wasn’t in bed. Her eyes squint slightly at the overhead lights in the kitchen, “Berenice, why aren’t you in bed yet?” Serena yawns, starting to speak again in the middle of it, “have you any idea what time it is?”

“I was almost-” Bernie pauses, realizing her tongue seems to have turned to jelly.

“Bernie?” Serena moves closer, instantly awake, worried. “Are you okay?”

Bernie hums, nodding her head toward the small, hard donut like cookies her daughter had brought. “Charlie brought these...morsels. They’re del-” She pauses again, trying to form the word, “delicious.”

Following her wife’s hand to the plate she was reaching from, Serena instantly starts to relax, “how many of these did you have?”

“I’m fine, Campbell. I know about...about too many sweets.”

“They’re rum-balls.” Serena leans an elbow on the table, looking her wife in the face, “and you, Berenice Grizelda Wolfe, are shitfaced.” There’s a cheeky smirk forming in the corner of her mouth, not having seen her wife this intoxicated since her return. Actually, it might be since she’s met her. Sure, Bernie would have a drink here and there after a shift, but only a couple and she never overindulged, not like Serena has.

Bernie leans back, her brow furrowing as she looks at the small snacks, then over to Serena, “I’m supposed to be guest lecturer at-”

“I’m aware, darling.”

“I can’t go like this.” Bernie shakes her head, starting to try to stand from the table, only then realizing how she was really feeling. “Bloody hell.”

Serena hums with a nod, gently taking hold of Bernie’s elbow to aid in steadying her. “You’re going to be nursing an ungodly hangover, but you may start to feel better with a bit of rest.” 

“And water. Important to hydrate.” Bernie explains to the slightly shorter woman, as if she’s never heard of the concept before. She pauses, letting Serena gently pry her from the table, “is this what you usually feel like after drinking shiraz?”

“Well, I’ve...cut back lately, so...” Serena sighs, “I would on occasion. I’d...walk home or call a cab if I was anywhere except home.”

“Did you get worse when I wasn’t with you?” Without a single doubt, Bernie wouldn’t have asked the question if she were sober. “I know it was a long time ago...a really long time ago, but I worried about you then. I worried you wouldn’t pace yourself and you’d end up dying of alcohol poisoning.” Her words are slurred, deeper than her voice usually is. Bernie adjusts the way Serena is holding her arm, instead looping their arms together. It doesn’t actually help.

“I was fine then and I’m fine now.” Serena replies quietly, keeping her voice calm. She knows Bernie’s only really asking these questions because of her own intoxication level.

“Didn’t answer my question.”

“I...” Serena thinks for a moment, wanting to be as honest as possible, “I did find it difficult to control and pace myself at times when my mind was on you and...” She trails a little, “and how I mucked everything up.”

“You didn’t muck anything up.” Bernie fixes her arm around the woman’s shoulders, “I abandoned you. I didn’t mean to. I should have...come home with you. We’d have been married years ago.” She’s still slurring her words, then pauses in her movements, “just give me a moment.” Bernie’s head swims, “I just...I wanted you to be happy...even if that meant it wasn’t with me...and I’d be miserable without you.”

“You’re incredibly gorgeous. You’d have found someone.”

“Didn’t want anyone else. No one was you.” Bernie glances over to her wife, “I tried to...force myself out for drinks with some people and...I was just...I was spoiled by you.” She nods a little, “for you.”

Serena blushes, her voice husky, amused, “Bernie.”

“It’s true.” Bernie nods, “I’ve only ever had eyes for you, ever since I laid mine on you...in the car park years ago. Do you remember?” She pauses, “all those years ago?”

“I’m surprised you do, if I’m being honest.” Serena gently tries to guide her toward their bedroom. Because of her experiences, there was a significant portion of her memories that Bernie had just completely forgotten for a time. The therapist said it was common for people with post traumatic stress disorder, but the issue also caused other feelings at home. The need to always be prepared to run or a general understanding of her surroundings were big ones. Really, Serena understands it all perfectly, even now with some of the memories coming back.

“I saw you...and my heart skipped a beat.”

“Well, now you’re being a tad dramatic.” Serena raises an eyebrow, amused by the display. When they finally enter their bedroom, she motions for Bernie to have a seat on the mattress, “let me prepare you for bed. Any particular pajama set you’d prefer?”

Bernie watches her wife, waving her eyebrows, “who says I need any at all?”

“Well, that is certainly an option, but I’m tending to Guinevere in the morning and you know how she loves to bound up here that early.”

“I’ll be awake by-” When Bernie notices her wife’s scowl, she lays back on the bed with her legs hanging over the edge, “fine.”

Serena rolls her eyes, amused by the drunken display from her partner. Honestly, since returning home, this might be the first time Bernie is truly at ease. Truly welcoming of her care without guilt. Serena takes a moment to lean down, pressing a soft kiss to Bernie’s brow, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Campbell.”

[rauzadian]

I was tagged by @pers-books to post an excerpt from a WiP. 

So ... You asked for it. XD “Would you care to explain to me your sudden change of mind?” Serena asks, putting her arms into the sleeves and tying the belt up in one hard move, cinching it so tight Bernie thought her partner might faint at any moment.

“As I said, leaving you is breaking my heart. So, I think - I know it’ll be better for me if I went to the airport alone.”

“And what about me? What about breaking my own heart?”

“I know this is difficult for you as well,” Bernie comments, putting her hands in the front pockets of her usual black skinny jeans, shoulders bunched up around her ears. “But if you come with me, I’ll be too tempted to just say ‘fuck it’ and never go back to Kiev. I need to get my head back into work mode. Before I get on the plane. And I won’t be able to do that if you’re there.”

I’m tagging @beezarre, @batnbreakfast, @fortytworedvines, @ktlsyrtis, @lapalfruity, @eraisme and whoever wants to play.