Work Text:
Spare the rod
« Home at last – it’s been a long …two days!”
“You must be exhausted, darling – why don’t you go ahead and use the bathroom- I can wait a little longer.”
Serena had finally managed to clock off after two consecutive days at the hospital. Bernie had refused to go home without her, and had shared her time between the on-call room and Pulses. Although she staunchly maintained she had slept on the plane and was feeling fine, Bernie now sported dark shadows under her eyes. As for Serena, she was tired out, both physically and emotionally. The weight of her secret was overbearing. They had eaten a quick bite in a pub, none of them very hungry, small talk over the table a little stilted. And now that they were finally alone together…
Under the hot shower she had secretly been longing for since her arrival at the airport, Bernie couldn’t relax. Something was wrong – very wrong. Serena seemed to recoil from her touch every time she tried to make a move. Was she still angry about her silence? Probably. She had been so mad at her when she had done the same thing in Ukraine – whatever had possessed her to try the same stunt? She cursed her inability to lie convincingly. A strong religious upbringing had left its mark…
Between the sheets, Bernie tried again – she ran her fingers down Serena’s spine, feeling reassured at the shivers she felt along. Serena dropped a few kisses on Bernie’s skin, but they felt restrained, awkward. Too much distance made the heart wonder, indeed. Bernie tried to lose herself in her partner’ embrace, waited impatiently for the moment where she usually lost her sense of self and melted into Serena. Nothing …This was all her fault…There was only one way to get over this – maybe she should have begun by it, but it had been so long – she had craved Serena’s touch so much…But she deserved it. After all, when they had agreed, long ago, that they wanted more than vanilla, when they had trusted each other enough to confide their most private fantasies…It had helped them through a few hurdles already. Bernie sighed and rolled over, out of Serena’s reach. She looked into the brunette’s eyes: “Serena …I know you’re still angry with me. You don’t hide it very well. And you’re right – I should never have let your messages unanswered. I disappointed you, I disappointed Jason…That’s not ok.” Serena didn’t answer. Her guilt choked her.
Bernie got up, suppressing a sigh as she felt the toll of the plane trip in her back, and went to the drawer, where she retrieved the paddle she’d brought from Nairobi on her last visit. She handed it mutely to Serena and laid back down on the bed beside her, on her tummy. Serena took it hesitantly and rose to her knees. This was a very bad idea. She began caressing Bernie’s behind – she flinched under her touch, awaiting punishment. Serena began smacking her with her hand at first, the skin reddening easily at the contact. She did it out of duty, to respond to Bernie’s need – not out of desire like she usually did. But as she went on spanking her lover, anger overcame her – suddenly her self-directed anger channelled towards Bernie. How had she dared order her around in theatre? Showing her up in front of an F2! And she bloody ought to have answered the umpteen phone calls too! Conveniently forgetting her own less-than-stellar behaviour as she listed interiorly Bernie’s faults, she reached for the paddle and inflicted more damage to the already glowing skin. She saw Bernie bite the sheets to keep from crying out, but went on, the rhythmic paddle beating a tattoo. Only when she felt the blonde’s whole body letting go did she stop and put the paddle down, gathering her lover in her arms. Bernie let her head rest on her lover’s shoulder, suppressing sobs – the fire spread to her whole body, cleaning her, freeing her. Serena wiped the tears from Bernie’s cheeks with her fingers and mouth: “I’m sorry, darling – I’m sorry. Did I go too far? I’m sorry.” Bernie answer by a butterfly kiss on her lover’s lips: “Hush – I asked you to…Now all is forgiven.”
Serena winced – she had been a coward, but no longer – she couldn’t bear it anymore. She disentangled herself from Bernie’s arm and went to the wardrobe, from which she retrieved a long, pointed object. When Bernie saw what Serena was holding, she gasped: “Serena – no! Please, no! I’m sorry, but …I can’t take anymore. And …I …no, not that.”
Serena lowered her eyes, unable to stand the near panic in her lover’s eyes. She came to kneel near the bed and took Bernie’s hands in hers: “No, Major – I know. I wouldn’t.” She held the cane up and laid it on Bernie’s lap. “Please?”
Bernie looked at her lover in astonishment: “What?? You want me to…”
Serena nodded and slowly got up. She went to the armchair and bent over it. “Yes – please.”
“Serena – I can’t! I’ve never… No, please – I can’t!”
Serena knew what she was asking would be hard for Bernie. The tough ex-army medic pose hid a marshmallow centre. “Just aim low – I can take it.”
Bernie bit her lips – she couldn’t…she just couldn’t. Although she herself sometimes craved the chastisement, she had never envisaged Serena could be a switch. Even in her army days, her motto had always been “primum non nocere” – the medic’s creed before the soldier’s. But the army had also taught her obedience…As if Serena could read her thoughts, she said more sharply: “Come on, Major – no dithering – this is an order!”
Bernie ran her hand along the cane – she had no idea Serena had such an implement in her possession. It had been one of her hard limits – no bruises, no cane. And now…She got up slowly and positioned herself near the armchair, trying a few strokes in the air, trying to see how she had to restrain her arm. Then she tentatively aimed a half-hearted stroke at her lover’s behind.
“Harder!”
Bernie flinched, the word hitting her as harshly as a blow. She took a deep breath and aimed another one, with a little more force. Serena moaned a little and barked: “Harder!”
Bernie managed to land three unevenly strokes, leaving three purpling lines on Serena’s skin, before she threw the cane at the other end of the room, and herself on the floor, cradling Serena’s head in hers. Serena laid there for a moment, letting the pain settle – it had been so long …Edward had liked to use it…She had no idea why she’d kept it. Bernie’s strokes had been love pats compared to his… But she deserved them – oh, God, did she deserve them… She straighten up and cupped Bernie’s chin in her hand, brushing away the stray strands of hair. The major was crying again… Serena smothered her face with kisses and took a deep breath: “Bernie – I slept with Leah Faulkner.”
Bernie murmured something unintelligible between her sobs. Then she shot up: “What? What did you say?”
Serena couldn’t meet her eyes – the truth hurt so much: “I made a huge mistake – I slept with Leah Faulkner.”
“You slept with an F1? You slept with…Serena…”
Bernie’s sobs stopped abruptly and she stood up, throwing on her clothes.
“Bernie!?? Where are you going? Bernie, please – I’m sorry – it was a mistake. I love you!!”
“I’m going to the sofa. I need space .”
Serena watched the closed door for a long time – she had ruined everything.
Serena must have fallen asleep in the early morning hours, because she woke up to an empty house. She found a note on the kitchen counter : “I need time – don’t call me.” Fine – she deserved that. And she wouldn’t call. But she could try to write – there was no guarantee Bernie would read her email, but she had to make things better. She would have to face Bernie at Jason’s wedding anyway – Bernie would never disappoint him.
“My darling Bernie
I know what I did was unforgivable. I cheated, I lied… What can I say? There is nothing I can say which will erase my behaviour. I could tell you I was drunk – I wasn’t. I could tell you I was feeling lonely – unwanted – unloved – undesirable – I was, but this sounds as if I wanted to put the blame on you. I don’t. Of course I wanted you with me – I want you with me, I need you with me. I love you. So …Well, I have no excuse – just a moment of madness. A moment of madness which could spoil a lifetime. I …I hope you can forgive me. I love you. Serena xxx.
It had taken her several attempts – and when she pressed Send, she laid back in her chair, more convinced than ever that Bernie would never come back.
When she got Serena’s email, her first impulse was to send it straight to the bin. But she didn’t – she wanted to understand. In the stark hotel room where she had spent the last day buried under the covers, Bernie read the email several times. She rested her head wearily on the pillow and closed her eyes. She was tired – so tired that every muscle, every bone, every inch of skin screamed from pain. Her head was pounding, her ears were ringing, she still had a vile taste in her throat despite the tea, and she felt light-headed. Somehow it seemed fitting – she almost welcomed the pain – it reminded her of the hurt she’d caused, and for which she needed to atone. Somehow she couldn’t see Serena as the culprit. After all, she was the one who’d chosen to work several thousand miles away. Pain was her penance.
The decision was hers - and the fault hers. She finally got up and went to brush her teeth and throw water on her face. She didn’t take the time for anything more – if she didn’t go now, she would never and all would be lost. Twenty minutes later, the cab dropped her in front of Serena’s house. The bell echoed in the hall, and Bernie thought she had come all the way for nothing – Serena must be at the hospital. She turned back towards the gate and prepared to phone for another cab when the door opened.
“Bernie.”
“Serena – may I come in?”
They sat awkwardly in the living room. Serena looked at her lover: her matted hair hung stiffly around her face, and her whole demeanour screamed defeat. She waited a little to see if Bernie was going to talk, but as the latter remained silent, she began hesitantly: “Please, Bernie – please don’t push me away. I love you. You know I want us to be together.”
“Do you? Do you really? Except when I’m not there, apparently.” Bernie’s tone was bitter.
“I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to …It’s just…”
“Just what? You’d had a rough day? You were tired? Well guess what, so did I! A lot of bloody rough days actually – but you’ve got no idea – no idea at all! And I didn’t fall into bed with an F1!”
Serena felt her anger rising all over again: “No, I had no bloody idea, because you don’t talk! You keep shutting people out! You shut ME out! And I’m not a mind-reader! You never say anything to me – you HAVE to let me in, otherwise this will never work!” By then she was yelling, and she saw Bernie wince and put her face in her hands. Immediately, she stopped shouting and put her arms round Bernie’s shoulders. This time, Bernie let her, and reclined in her arms. She spoke so softly than Serena hardly heard her: “Please don’t yell at me …please – not now – I can’t … I can’t take it. I’m sorry – I’m trying, I’m really trying. I love you – I love you so much, so much. I don’t want us to fall apart.”
“We won’t, darling – we won’t.”
No more apologies, no more words – forgiveness had to be earned, oblivion might come with time. For the moment, hands entwined, bodies meeting, they faced the future together.