Chapter Text
Cameron had been the first to know his mother was in love. He might not have seen as much of his mum as other children had of theirs, but he knew her well enough.
For what felt like in the first time in ages, she looked happy. Nothing obvious to the untrained eye, Bernie Wolfe wasn’t the type for open emotions or exuberant smiles. But she had changed. She had a smile that reached her eyes, a new sway in her hips and bounce in her steps.
His mother’s eye shone when she looked at the slightly shorter woman. The woman was very different from his father. She seemed feisty and not one to be messed with, much unlike his father who had never really stood up to her. Until the divorce. His stomach churned slightly at the thought of the divorce and the statements… He pushed the thought away– he’d deal with it later– and returned his attention to his mother.
It was fascinating, if not entertaining, to see his normally headstrong mother wrapped up in this woman’s charms. Serena. He suppressed a chuckle when his mother’s tongue stumbled over the syllables, blushing slightly. Seeing her like this made him forgive her. He could see now that she had truly loved him, his sister– even their father in her own way. It was the same expression she had worn they would pick her up from the airport, only now amplified. He didn’t know the other doctor, but he thought there was something in her eyes as well. She– Serena was fond of his mum, so much was obvious.
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Cameron had been the first to know his mother was in love, and Ric had been the first to suspect Serena had her own feelings. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Serena had always been a flirt, but something told him Bernie was different and not only because she was a woman. Their banter was unique, making it both sincere and fragile. He decided to observe and give her the space she needed. Ms Wolfe was the first one since Edward who seemed worth the bother– not that he thought Edward had been worth it. Serena had never expressed any interest in women, but he couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. Ric glanced over at them as he took another sip from his drink, they were standing together closely now– laughing. Both looked more content than he had seen them in a while, especially Bernie. He might not always have gotten along with her, but he hoped she’d be happier. No one deserved a nasty divorce like hers, although he was fully prepared to take on the ex-army medic in case she’d turn out to be a second Edward. Rocky Griffin to the rescue, he joked to himself with a low chuckle.
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Cameron had been the first to know his mother was in love, Ric had been the first to suspect Serena had her own feelings, but Evie was the first to ask. Serena and Bernie had been mentally inseparable, unbeknownst to each other. Serena’s thoughts had kept wandering off and her eyes went with it. She didn’t consciously realise it, but part of her was always with Bernie. Evie noticed. She had seen Serena gazing several times, sighing softly when no one else was looking. Serena looked like she felt when she saw Thomas at school, she liked Thomas. Curiosity ran over her and she decided to investigate. Evie was already mentally preparing herself to stealth around a bit, but none of that was needed. She caught Serena when one of the nurses wheeled her out for her scan, and Evie followed her gaze. To her surprise it wasn’t a cute nurse or charming doctor, but the lanky blonde surgeon who had come to see her earlier; Doctor Wolfe. She turned her head to check again, but Serena was definitely gazing at the blonde doctor, who was currently wearing a plastic apron splattered with something nasty. Evie wrinkled her nose. Not exactly attractive.
“D’you like her?” she pounced as soon as Serena set foot in her room.
“What?” Serena replied, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
“The blonde doctor, Ms Wolfe.”
“Ah! Uhm..” –Serena was fiddling nervously with her clipboard– “Why, why would you think that?”
“It’s the way you look at her.”
She was now stroking the hairs on the back of her neck.
“It’s how Margaret Finnegan looks at Max during French-”
There was a blush forming on Serena’s cheeks and Evie knew she was hitting all the right buttons.
“-or the way I like to look at Thomas.”
As expected, Serena peered up at that. Evie suppressed a grin, she’d gladly trade that piece of information for something more interesting. And if she were completely honest, she loved talking about Thomas anyway.
“Oh! Found a boy you like? Now isn’t that great, tell me all about him.”
“So you do like her?” Serena didn’t seem to be capable of formulating an answer other than some unintelligible stammering.
“That was also the worst attempt at distracting me ever.” Evie said to save Serena from her own stuttering.
After a moment of silence, Serena finally answered. “Yes, I might like her.”
They spent some time talking about Thomas and Ms Wolfe, and Serena gave her a last hug when it was time to leave, inviting her to come over for dinner sometime soon. When she was wheeled out she turned to wave at Serena one last time, but something caught her eye. The now cleaned-up Ms Wolfe was standing on the other side of the ward next to a bed, clipboard resting in her arms and smiling eyes resting on Serena.
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Cameron had been the first to know his mother was in love, Ric had been the first to suspect Serena had her own feelings, Evie was the first to ask, and Fletcher was the first to be told.
Serena wasn't quite sure what she was doing in Fletch's room. She supposed she had just needed someone, anyone, to talk with– to– at. Nervous energy was ratcheting through her veins clenching at her heart.
"Only you could pull off the impossible task of being the talk of the hospital without actually being awake."
Serena sighed, heavy hearted.
"Mind you, you're probably doing me a favour... Lord knows what they'd be talking about otherwise."
But she did know. They’d talk about how she’d have yet another infatuation, this time so desperate she went for women. Not that it wasn’t doomed to fail, like the others before.
They’d talk about how Bernie would have gotten herself yet another lesbian lover, this time one who actually looked the part. No, she hadn’t forgotten that particular rumour yet.
She checked Fletch's bloods absentmindedly as she started rambling.
"You'd think I'd be old enough to know better, wouldn't you?”
She asked, picking up the small torch and starting to fiddle with it.
"I mean, how many F1s have I schooled to keep work and love-life separate?"
But this hadn’t just been a quick shag in the on-call room, or a fumble in a storage cupboard. They had kissed. If it had only been drunk sex, this would have been easier.
She busied her hands with checking Fletch's pupillary response, not expecting any changes.
"And then I go and break my own rule...” She paused for a moment, taking in the absurdity of the situation. “With Bernie Wolfe, of all people.”
She would rather kill herself than admit it, but she loved the sound on her lips. Almost as much as she had loved having Bernie’s lips on her lips. Her heart skipped a beat at every opportunity she got to shape the other woman’s name. Sometimes she would do it in the car, (Bernie Wolfe.) knowing no one could hear her speaking her best friend’s name for no reason. Other moments she would wistfully sigh it in the elevator giddy with the secrecy of it (Oh Bern...), letting all tension leave her body with that sigh before entering the ward. And finally in bed, after she had finally allowed herself to think about her that way, after carefully trying her name in that way (Berenice!).
“Serena Campbell– Lesbian."
She laughed.
Lesbian. If it wasn't for the mess she was in, she'd have found it entertaining. She was no more a lesbian than Dominic Copeland was straight, but it would be what people would say regardless so she'd better get used to it. The word felt foreign on her lips, it somehow tasted different now that it was describing herself. The ‘l’ rolled awkwardly over her tongue, while the ‘e’ and ‘i’ felt sharper and the ‘b’ carried added weight. The ‘n’ had finality. The sounds felt like shackles now, forming the constraints of this word rediscovered. She wasn't so sure anymore if she still found it entertaining.
"If this gets out it'll be all over the hospital like a rash, especially if Ric Griffin gets hold of it."
If only Ric Griffin was her only worry. He would tease relentlessly, but he'd be kind. And even if not, she wasn't so much worried about herself as about those surrounding her. Jason already getting the occasional stare and raised eyebrow, not that he would take it personally. But Serena dreaded to think about the possible outcomes, she'd hate for him to get caught in the crossfire.
She shook the thought out of her head. It was a worst case scenario. He wasn't her real concern anyway.
Bernie.
Bernie.
The grapevine hadn't treated her kindly the last time and she doubted it would be better now. Bernie might not be the type to let it show, but it had affected her. She didn't like the attention; whispered words behind her back and gossip swirling around her.
Wonderfully awkward Bernie.
Who brought her coffee and pastries, gave her hip flasks filled with Shiraz and taught her to curse in Pashto. Who tried so hard to dispel any awkwardness between them that she ended up stuttering, much unlike the commanding woman the trauma unit knew. Bernie who shot her broad grins and blushing smiles.
She picked up the folder at Fletch’s feet and walked over to lean against the windowsill.
"Oh, and then I had to go on and lie. I didn't kiss a girl in Stepney– I've never even been to Stepney."
She remembered her lie. She wished she had been to Stepney and knew what to make of herself. Not that she had suddenly turned into a stuttering, stammering confused school girl- no, that phase had passed. She just wasn't quite sure what to do, what to make of Bernie's reaction or where to go with their current relationship. They’d have to figure that out sooner or later.
The folder in her hand didn’t present her with any new, miraculous insights into either Fetch’s status or her own messy affairs.
She had really had it bad this time. Maybe it was a side-effect caused by Bernie being her best-friend? Did the therapeutic index of love change when it was co-occurring with friendship?
She knew the symptoms and had the diagnosis in hand, if only she knew the appropriate treatment plan.
Without her co-lead by her side, it was proving rather difficult to find the appropriate medicine.