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Serena tells Bernie she’ll be coming home on a Friday.
‘Not this Friday, not the Friday in two days’ time. Next Friday,’ she clarifies.
‘I’ll put it in my diary,’ Bernie replies, and Serena can hear that she’s smiling.
Bernie doesn’t ask if she’s sure; she knows Serena wouldn’t be coming back if she wasn’t sure. In fact she doesn’t say anything, holds back the what time? Where? Shall I come and pick you up? Shall I have dinner ready? and just waits.
‘Would you, uh– would you like to– could you–’
‘What?’ Bernie asks gently, kindly.
‘You’ll pick me up?’ Serena asks. And then she realises how presumptuous that sounds, and backpedals. ‘I mean, would you? Would you pick me up, Bernie? Would you take me home?’
‘Yes,’ Bernie says simply.
‘And maybe we could spend some time together, over the weekend?’
‘Missed me?’ Bernie asks lightly, teasing.
‘You know I have,’ Serena answers, blinking back tears at just how true it is.
‘I’ll talk to Hanssen,’ Bernie says. ‘See what I can do.’
Bernie texts her the next day, tells her that she’s got the whole weekend off, that she finishes Friday lunchtime and doesn’t have to be in again until Monday morning.
Texts her again a minute later to say that there’s no pressure, they don’t have to spend it all together, whatever Serena wants is just fine.
Is texting her again when Serena replies that there’s nothing she’d rather do than spend an entire weekend with Bernie.
Bernie spends the rest of her shift smiling, the following week alternately smiling and fretting. She’s got used to missing Serena, the sharp pain a dull ache now, can think about her without being overwhelmed by how much she feels. But now she’s coming back – now Bernie has a date and a time and a place for when she’s going to see her – the days seem to drag and it hurts almost as much as it did when Serena first left.
Friday can’t come soon enough.
*
On Sunday, with five days to go, Serena has a sudden brainwave and calls Neil.
‘I’d like to surprise her,’ she says. ‘And dancing was so important to us. Do you– do you think she’d like that?’
‘I know she’d love to dance with you again,’ Neil smiles. He doesn’t say she’s been lost without you. Doesn’t say it was weeks until she could dance again. Doesn’t say she refuses to waltz, even now. Doesn’t say we never play that song any more.
‘Can you make sure she’s there on Thursday?’
‘She told me she’s working a late. Said she had to swap shifts because she’s got plans for the weekend. Someone coming home, I think she mentioned,’ he teases.
‘Hm,’ Serena says. ‘Right.’
*
She works out the time difference and at nine on Monday morning Hanssen’s phone rings.
‘Ms Campbell,’ he answers. ‘I understand you’re returning to Holby later this week?’
‘Yes, about that Henrik. I wonder if you might do me a favour?’
‘You know there is very little I wouldn’t do to help you, if it’s within my power.’
‘Oh, this is,’ Serena smiles. ‘I know Bernie’s changed her shifts so she can have the weekend off, but I’d like to surprise her and that would require her to be elsewhere on Thursday evening.’
‘And you wish for me to make up some excuse to change the already changed roster?’ Hanssen guesses.
‘You’ve got it in one,’ Serena confirms. ‘I’m sure you’ll come up with something.’
‘As it’s for you,’ Henrik acquiesces with a smile. ‘You sound well, Serena,’ he adds gently.
‘I’m– I’m doing better,’ she agrees. ‘I want to come home.’
‘I look forward to welcoming you back,’ he says sincerely. ‘Leave it with me.’
‘Thank you, Henrik.’
*
‘Bernie’s coming on Thursday,’ Neil texts Serena. ‘Operation Ballroom Surprise is go.’
*
Bernie finds it difficult to settle on Thursday night. She’s already jittery, filled with nerves and excitement in equal measures, and it’s still almost twenty-four hours until she’ll see Serena again.
‘I wish I was at work,’ she groans to Neil, who feigns hurt. ‘At least then I’d have something to take my mind off her.’
Before Neil can reply his phone beeps and he glances down hurriedly, angling the screen away from her.
‘Everything alright?’ Bernie frowns. He’s been getting a lot of texts this evening, seems distracted by the messages he’s read. Seems nervous, now she comes to think of it. Or maybe excited.
‘Just fine,’ he says with a smile, finishing his reply and tucking his phone back into his pocket then standing up. ‘Could I interest you in a cha cha, Ms Wolfe?’ he asks, bowing slightly and holding out his hand with a flourish.
‘I’d be delighted, Mr Martin,’ Bernie replies, slipping her hand into his and standing up, letting him lead her onto the floor.
Since Serena left, Bernie has mostly danced with Neil. They’ve developed a friendship built on more than Serena now, developed a partnership that allows them to dance seamlessly, allows him to offer subtle leads and allows her to follow them. It’s not like dancing with Serena, of course, but still. He usually likes to challenge her, to surprise her with extra turns or new combinations of steps, but tonight everything’s very tame and he still seems distracted. They haven’t even changed orientation and she’s starting to get bored of looking at the same piece of wall, is on the brink of checking that he’s sure he’s ok when he speaks.
‘So, have you got plans for the weekend?’
‘Not really,’ she admits. ‘I don’t know what she wants to do, thought I’d just play it by ear.’
Neil nods, distracts her with a series of spins and looks over at the door to see Serena stood on the threshold. He tries not to let it show, tries not to let his body give anything away to Bernie. Keeps her occupied and facing away as Serena watches them; even from across the hall he can see the tears in her eyes, the joy on her face, watches as she wipes her cheeks and takes a breath, as she gathers herself.
And then Serena nods, and Neil whirls Bernie around with such force that she grins and laughs in surprise, and Neil smiles too because he wanted Serena’s first view of Bernie to be of her happy. He knows the precise moment that Bernie’s eyes land on Serena because she falls silent and freezes in his arms, sways against him so he has to hold her up, her smile now one of disbelief.
Serena seems frozen in place too, now that their eyes have met. So Neil leads Bernie towards her, practically pushing her between still dancing couples to the edge of the floor, deposits her in front of Serena and then slips away. He makes his way around the room to where the iPod is docked, scrolls through it and adds another track into the queue, one which has hardly been played since Serena left, not since the first week Bernie came back and strode from the hall barely holding back tears at the opening chords.
‘I, uh, I thought you were coming back tomorrow,’ Bernie breathes.
‘I wanted to surprise you.’
‘Well you certainly did that.’
Bernie longs to reach out and touch Serena, can’t quite believe she’s actually here and is desperate to check, but her arms refuse to move from her sides. So instead she just keeps gazing at her, trying to take all of her in at once: the weight that she’s regained, the light back in her eyes, the colour in her cheeks, the shorter greying hair.
‘You’re really here?’ she asks, her voice rough.
‘I am,’ Serena confirms. She shifts a little closer, fingers twitching; she never could resist being close to Bernie, especially not here. It feels wrong to not even be touching her, let alone be in her arms. Bernie’s expression still hasn’t changed from her initial shock and Serena begins to panic that she shouldn’t have done this, that she should have just stuck to the original plan and flown back tomorrow and been met by Bernie at the airport.
And then, slowly, Bernie smiles, not one of those tight presses of her lips but a wide grin blossoming across her entire face, lighting her teary eyes. She reaches out cautiously; Serena meets her hand halfway, finds herself being tugged into a fierce hug, the breath knocked from her lungs and her face pressed hard into Bernie’s shoulder. For a moment she thinks Bernie’s going to pick her up and whirl her around but she doesn’t, just holds her as close as she can and laughs and cries into her hair.
‘You’re here,’ she murmurs wetly. ‘You’re here.’
‘I’m here,’ Serena agrees, freeing her arm from between them so she can slip it around Bernie’s waist, can smooth it up and down her back.
Bernie doesn’t move away until the song ends and the next track comes on; the familiar chords bring fresh tears to her eyes but she’s still smiling, her cheeks aching now but she can’t stop because Serena is here.
‘Meddlesome friend we’ve got there.’
‘Yes, rather good isn’t he?’ Serena agrees, her heart warming at how Bernie refers to Neil as their friend.
Bernie sniffs, takes a step back and holds out her hand. ‘Shall we?’
‘Well, it would be rude not to,’ Serena smiles. She drops her bag to the floor and slowly slips her hand into Bernie’s, savouring the feel of their skin sliding together after so long.
Bernie leads her the few steps onto the floor, gently draws Serena to her, hesitates a moment before drawing her closer. When their bodies touch they both gasp and then let out a shuddering sigh. Serena grips Bernie’s hand a little tighter, squeezes her arm, feels Bernie’s hand on her back press just a little firmer.
For a moment Serena isn’t sure she’s going to be able to dance, is almost certain that being here, in Bernie’s arms, pressed together like this after so long, is more than she can cope with. But then Bernie shifts her weight and steps forward, and Serena has no choice but to go with her.
‘I hope you aren’t crying as much as I am,’ she whispers when they’re halfway around the room. ‘Otherwise I fear for our chances of avoiding a collision.’
‘I’m just doing a lot of blinking,’ Bernie says softly. ‘But don’t worry, I’ve got your back.’
‘I know,’ Serena replies.
Bernie laughs, and then her step falters and she steers Serena into the corner and stops dancing, just holds her close and buries her nose in Serena’s hair and sways.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she chokes out.
‘I’ve missed you too, darling,’ Serena replies. ‘But I’m back now.’
‘And– and me? Us?’
Serena draws back, just enough that she can see Bernie’s face, waits for her to glance up and gently brushes her fringe back so she can meet her gaze properly.
‘Yes. If you still want me. If– if you think you could still love me, after everything I did, everything I said.’
Bernie smiles, reaches to run her fingers down Serena’s cheek, to cup her face. ‘I never stopped.’
She leans forward, waits for Serena to close the remaining gap between them. Their noses touch first and then their lips, chaste and tender and salty with tears. Bernie tries desperately but can’t hold back a sob at how it feels to finally kiss Serena again. Serena pulls away and looks at her, worried, but Bernie smiles through her tears and holds her close, one hand around the back of her neck and the other on her waist.
‘Just can’t quite believe you’re here,’ she explains.
‘Nor can I,’ Serena admits. She runs her fingers through Bernie’s hair, along her jaw, tries to wipe away her tears but gives up with a laugh because they won’t stop falling.
And then she kisses her, firmly and fiercely, moans into it and draws Bernie closer, as close as she can. Panics when she feels Bernie pull away, her entire body filling with it until she realises she’s just gasping for air, until Bernie’s lips are back on hers and the room and the music melt away.
‘We should finish the dance,’ Serena says shakily, when she’s certain that the strength of Bernie’s arms and the pressure of their bodies arching together are the only things keeping her upright. ‘That is why I came back today, after all.’
‘Ok,’ Bernie murmurs, ghosting her lips over Serena’s one more time and then stepping back, the fingers of her right hand gently grasping Serena’s left, her left hand settling on Serena’s back, their right hips pressing comfortably together.
‘Bernie?’ she prompts, when several bars have passed and they still haven’t moved.
‘Just clearing my mind,’ she murmurs, mouth close to Serena’s ear, voice soft and husky and shiver-inducing. ‘You’ve rather distracted me, love, and I want to keep you safe.’
‘You always do. I trust you, Bernie.’ Serena presses a little closer, hears Bernie’s breath catch in her throat, turns her head and watches her pulse jump. ‘You’ll– you’ll still take me home later?’
‘Just you try and stop me,’ Bernie smiles before shifting her weight, stepping forward and guiding Serena into the flow of the dance.
It’s like they’ve never been apart, and from a corner of the room Neil watches and surreptitiously wipes a tear from his cheek at seeing them together and smiling again.