Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s almost half past six in the evening and Serena Campbell is in a hurry. Which is a bit of a pity, because while she is almost running up on Portobello Road - as much as her kitten heeled shoes allow her to run - she misses many of her favourite sights of her favourite London neighbourhood. Clutching a takeaway bag from The Fish House, she doesn’t take note of the remaining fruit vendors closing up their stands, their last discarded pieces of exotic and local fruits and veg carelessly swept to the side of the street. She almost collides with a young woman coming out of a hairdresser’s, which results in Serena mumbling a few choice words instead of complimenting the other woman for her brave decision on bright blue hair, as she normally might have done. Luckily, she manages to dodge the guy coming out of the tattoo parlour without even slowing down. He looks a bit dazed, but right now she just can’t care.

Well, at least it isn’t the weekend, she thinks. Weekends are pure madness around Portobello Road. Masses of almost frantic tourists crowd the shops, stalls and street, always on the lookout for some genuine antiques… or some tacky bric-a-brac made in China, because who has got the money for antiques nowadays? They flock to Alice’s to have their pictures taken while wielding Paddington bears. They queue up in Serena’s favourite coffee shop, making it almost impossible for her to get her much-needed shot of caffeine in a reasonable amount of time.

Although, if it was the weekend, she wouldn’t have to run home right now, because it wouldn’t be fish and chips night. With a sigh she finally comes to a standstill in front of a brightly-painted blue door, her door, leading into the house she shares with her nephew, Jason. The moment she steps inside, said nephew appears in front of her.

“You’re late, Auntie Serena,” he says, a bit reproachfully. “Dinner should have been ready at half past seven, so we can be finished and start to watch Countdown without hurrying through our meal. You know that I like us to be on time.”

“I’m sorry, dear. I had a late customer at the shop. Wouldn’t leave and in the end he didn’t even buy anything. Then the chip shop was chock full of people, so I had to wait.”

“Well, you just have to make better plans.” He shakes his head at her, then turns around to walk back towards their kitchen.

“Will do, Jason, will do," Serena murmurs while getting rid of her coat and shoes, still holding the bag of food. "Did you lay the table? I even got you an extra large gherkin and a pickled egg,” she tries to soothe his mood, finally following behind.

And with this, Serena and Jason’s normal evening routine begins, consisting of dinner - accompanied by Jason chatting away about his latest interests - then settling in front of the tv for a steady stream of quiz shows and documentaries until it’s time to go to bed. It’s definitely not the life Serena had planned for herself - at one point she’d even thought that love, marriage and kids of her own would be the way to go for her. These plans were put to a stop though, when her marriage came to a rather abrupt end. By the time she’d finally settled into a life lived on her own, she found out about her deceased sister and an unknown nephew, who ended up living in a shared house after his mother’s death. Being a woman of snap decisions and caring nature, she couldn’t stand the thought of him staying on his own and so Jason had moved in with her, bringing company and a need for a quite strict daily routine with him. Her life definitely wasn’t the one she thought she’d be living, but nevertheless Serena is content with the way it is for now.

Chapter Text

The next morning finds Serena in a bit of a glum mood while on her way to work. Her thoughts are already fixed on this month’s sales figures. Which, quite frankly, are sad and insufficient.

When she opened her travel bookshop right here on Portobello Road a few years ago, she figured that a lot of tourists might also like to buy a lot of travel books. But obviously they either bought their books at home or on bloody Amazon.

Still juggling the numbers in her head, she almost didn’t notice Morven, her sole employee, waiting for her at the side of the shop.

“Good Morning, Serena.” The young woman greets her with a smile.

Despite her mood, Serena can’t help herself and smiles back. “Good morning to you, too! Let’s go and get ready for another day, shall we?”

“Ready to go if you are!” Morven says enthusiastically.

They enter the small shop, slightly chaotic as ever; bookshelves everywhere, arranged to give way to little, almost secret, nooks and crannies, filled with even more books to explore. While Morven stays at the front of the shop, handling the till and their latest online orders, Serena goes back into her office to take a good look at the sales figures. After about an hour she throws her pen down with a groan and drops her head onto her desk in frustration.

“Is everything all right, Serena?” Morven asks from where she’s leaning against the door frame, a concerned look on her face.

“It seems like our latest major sales push resulted in… a net income of £284.” Serena stares at the figures on the notepad in front of her, but obviously nothing changes just by being stared at.

“How about I go and get you a coffee? Something strong and hot to ease your mind. Maybe there’s a miscalculation somewhere and the caffeine will help you find it?” Morven asks, giving Serena a fond smile.

“Oh, yes please. But just a small one, because I can’t afford the extra shot.” Serena picks up her notepad and accompanies Morven to the till.

Morven laughs, shakes her head and dashes out the door, leaving it open for a woman entering the shop. Mind still fixed on the unbending sales figures, Serena doesn’t notice her right away, and the woman doesn’t ask for help, just starts to browse the shelves, her back turned towards the till.

Serena finally looks up and smiles. “May I help you?”

The other woman turns towards her and it takes all of Serena’s customer service skills to keep her face straight. Her potential customer is blonde and lithe and beautiful, her face partially masked by a pair of sunglasses, her hair artfully mussed, her clothing - probably tailored - fits her like a glove. Serena thinks that she recognizes her - someone famous is in her little shop! - but right now she feels so dazzled, she can’t remember her name.

“No, thanks. I’ll just have a look around.” She smiles at Serena and continues to browse the shelf. Serena finds herself unable to stop watching her, a name right at the tip of her tongue. Slim fingers brush along book spines, until the blonde finally pulls an impressively sized coffee-table book out of the shelf and starts to leave through it. She takes care with the book, something Serena highly appreciates, although she doesn’t really approve of the book the woman has chosen.

“I’d reconsider buying that one.” Serena can’t help herself, gives a bit of a disdainful sniff.

“Would you?” The woman looks up from the book and considers Serena with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, in my opinion, it’s actually helpful if the author has been to the country they’re writing about. If you want to know more about Italy, you might want to try this one.” Serena grabs a small book from the side of the till. “Not only has the author spent a huge amount of time in Italy, but she’s also very amusing. You know, there’s this incident with a sfogliatella in Naples, that’s…” but before she has the chance to finish her sentence, Serena notices movement on the small monitor showing the back of the shop. She stops and harrumphs. “Are you kidding me?”

“Excuse me?” The blonde, still holding the illustrated book, looks slightly taken aback.

“Not you, definitely not you. Would you please excuse me for a minute? I’ll be right back.” Serena takes a few quick steps towards the back of the shop, where she almost collides with a scruffy looking young man coming out of a secluded section between the bookshelves.

“Excuse me,” she addresses him, her disdain clearly audible in just those two words.

“Um… yes?” The man looks at her, obviously trying to figure out where this encounter is heading.

“Bad news.” She crosses her arms and shoots him a look that made better men than him quiver in their shoes before.

“What?” He tries to sidle around her, but she won’t let him.

“Camera. Right around the corner. Right… behind you.” Serena tells him with a sickly sweet smile, pointing to the corner of the shop.

“Umm…” The man turns and looks up at the ceiling, clearly noticing the camera now. He swallows and turns back towards Serena, looking around the shop for help that isn’t going to come. The blonde, although clearly following the incident playing out in front of her, ignores him and keeps her eyes trained on the book in her hands instead.

“Look, I saw you put that book down your trousers,” Serena sighs. There are clearly better ways to spend her time than this.

“What book?”

“Blimey, the one down your trousers!” Her patience starts to wear thin and she raises her voice at the guy.

“I haven’t got a book down my trousers,” he insists, even though the evidence is clearly against him.

“Right…” Serena shakes her head, the fingers of her right hand rubbing the bridge of her nose. She will be damned before she’s going to go rooting around in people’s trousers for stolen goods. “Well, then we clearly have something of an impasse. How about I call the police? We’ll wait for them and if I am wrong about the whole book-down-your-trousers-scenario - what can I say? I’ll apologise to you and I’ll even give you a voucher.”

Mentioning getting the police involved makes the guy shuffle his feet. “Okay… what about - if I did have a book down my trousers, but don’t want the filth involved?”

“Well, ideally, I’ll go back to the till and you’ll go back around the corner for decency’s sake and you’ll remove the Rough Guide to Bali from your trousers. You’ll either wipe it very carefully and put it back on its shelf or you’ll come to the till and buy it. See you in a sec.” And with this, Serena turns her back on the guy and returns to her other customer, who now has another book in her hand.

The woman, who clearly hasn’t missed a single word, shoots her a smile.

“I’m sorry about that…” Serena nods towards the back of the shop.

“Don’t be. It’s fine. I actually thought about stealing this one myself, but now I’ve changed my mind. You are quite stern.” She gestures with the blue book in her hand. “It’s signed by the author, I thought it might be worth stealing.”

“Well, we did our best to stop him, but couldn’t. If you find an unsigned copy, that will be the one worth a fortune.” Serena smiles at her, while keeping an eye on the monitor to observe the would-be-thief putting the book back onto the shelf. He drifts back to the front of the shop, clearly relieved to have come off relatively unscathed, but stops in front of the blonde instead of leaving the shop as fast as he can.

“Excuse me?”

The blonde looks at him, seems to brace herself. “Yes?”

“Can I have your autograph?” he mumbles, gazing at her from under his wild mop of hair. Serena perks up at his question, because even though she was almost sure herself, his reaction clearly indicates that her customer is in fact famous.

“What’s your name?”

“Thomas,” he says and hands her a scruffy piece of paper and a pen he conjured from the pockets of his jacket.

The blonde takes them, scribbles something onto the paper, and hands both pen and paper back to him. He looks at it inquiringly.

“What does it say?”

“Well, that at the end is my signature. And above that, it says, ‘Dear Thomas, don’t go around stealing books, that’s a crime.’”

“Ha, nice one.” He smiles at the paper and then looks at the woman. “Do you want my phone number?”

Serena thinks that the blonde - whose name, she now remembers, is Berenice Wolfe - is a very good actress. Very good, indeed. Must be, because there is no indication of her real feelings about this ridiculous question. Instead she just looks… aloof.

“Thanks, but I have to decline,” she simply answers, whereas Serena would probably have taken the offensive question as an invitation to hurl one of the heftier books at the young man’s head.

Clutching the piece of paper in his hand, Thomas nods at both of them and sidles out of the shop.

“I think I’ll take this one.” Berenice Wolfe hands Serena the book she advised against and her credit card.

“Oh, alright. Well, it’s a classic. Not that bad on second thoughts. None of those childish food stories you get in almost every other book nowadays. And I’ll even throw in this one for free.” Serena takes the signed blue book and puts it in a bag with the other one. “Very useful to light a fire with or wrap up some vegetable peels after preparing shepherd's pie.”

The blonde’s mouth quirks in an amused smile. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Serena says, wonders if she could or should say more, but the other woman is already on her way out of the shop. Serena feels a bit dazed and leans against the till, watches the blonde until she can’t anymore. “Berenice Wolfe. In my shop. World famous actress Berenice bloody Wolfe just bought a book in my shop.” Maybe if Serena repeats it often enough she’ll even believe it.

Chapter Text

Morven comes back into the shop, carrying a tray with two disposable coffee cups. “Sorry it took me so long, they were super busy. How has it been? Did I miss anything?”

For some reason, Serena finds she doesn’t want to talk about Berenice Wolfe visiting the shop. Morven would probably squeal and make her describe every detail of the whole encounter and she doesn’t feel up to that, wants to keep this little story just for herself, herself and Berenice and… well, Thomas, but the chances he’ll drop by at the shop again anytime soon are slim.

She just stands at the till and sips her coffee, partly lost in her thoughts, partly listening to Morven’s chatter while the young woman whips around the shop, straightening things here and there. Having drunk her coffee, surely strong but not hot at all due to circumstances, she continues to alternate between staring at the numbers in front of her and staring out of the window. The afternoon proves to be as boring as her accounting, just one customer coming by to pick up their ordered books. Suddenly Serena feels unbelievably restless, thinks that a quick walk and another shot of caffeine might do her good.

“Do you want another one?” she asks Morven.

“Well, sure, yes! Oh, no wait, make it an orange juice.”

“Orange juice for you and another coffee for me. I’ll be right back.” Serena smiles and leaves the shop to make her way to the coffee shop on the corner.

It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining and London is bustling in anticipation of spring finally settling in. Having drunk an espresso right at the shop to keep it hot, Serena leaves with Morven’s juice in hand and rounds the corner only to painfully collide with someone. The juice drenches both of them and they barely manage to avoid falling down.

“Jesus!” Serena hears Berenice Wolfe exclaim. They look at each other - the actress clearly taken aback by being soaked in juice, Serena’s eyes widen due to the sight in front of her.

“Goodness, I’m so, so sorry! Here, let me help.” Serena starts to dab at the juice soaked shirt with a handful of paper napkins she fishes out of her pocket, unintentionally patting down Berenice Wolfe’s breasts.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” The blonde is clearly stressed now and takes a step back to escape Serena’s hands.

Serena almost jumps back. “Nothing! Well, not the right thing, obviously, sorry. Look, I live just over the street. You could get cleaned up and…”

“No, thank you. I’ll just call my car to pick me up.”

“Well, you could use the bathroom to get cleaned up and then call someone to pick you up, you’re more than welcome to wait for them at my house.”

Serena turns even redder under the look she’s given and just hopes that Berenice Wolfe will realise that Serena surely isn’t the crazy, juice wielding maniac she might seem to be at first, but just someone who is almost as distressed by their situation as the other woman.

“What do you mean by ‘just over there’?” Her voice already sounds a bit less stressed now and Serena can see her trying to compose herself. She turns and points over the street.

“About eighteen yards. The one with the blue door. That’s my house.”

When she turns back, Berenice Wolfe gives her an inscrutable look, sighs and nods.

“Ok, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The house is practically sparkling, and Serena is suddenly extremely grateful for Jason’s need to keep everything clean and in order. Imagine inviting someone, someone famous even, into a house with dirty dishes cluttering up the kitchen table and the bathroom in a questionable state!

The actress has followed her into the kitchen and now hovers by the stairs, looking at Serena as if she is waiting for something. Which she probably is, because how would she know where to go? Serena chides herself and points upstairs.

“Take a right at the top of the stairs. The second door to the left is my bedroom.”

This earns her another silently raised eyebrow.

“It has an ensuite you can use. There is another bathroom, but it’s best if you use mine. My nephew is very particular about sharing his space. Feel free to take a towel from the cupboard and anything else you need to clean yourself up.”

Berenice Wolfe just nods, leaves some of the shopping bags she carried at the bottom of the stairs and takes one with her.

Serena sinks down on a kitchen chair. Her own shirt hasn’t fared better than Berenice’s, but with the other woman in her ensuite, she can’t exactly go and change in her bedroom. The juice sticks the cloth uncomfortably to her skin though, so she decides to get up and have a look at the linen room. Luckily Jason has left some of his things out to dry and Serena uses the sole t-shirt hanging on the clothesline. It is an emergency after all.

Which is why Serena is wearing a very snug-fitting t-shirt, proclaiming her to be the “World’s Strongest Man” when her unexpected guest finally comes down to the kitchen again. If she wasn’t so distracted by the new outfit the actress is parading down her stairs, Serena might have even noticed the small falter in Berenice Wolfe’s step and the lingering gaze on her prominently visible curves. Fortunately - or maybe not - Serena wouldn’t even notice if half the annual Carnival's groups were suddenly parading through her kitchen.

Where the blonde was formerly clad in tight-fitting dark blue trousers and a lovely grey silken shirt with an equally lovely neckline, she is now wearing a dress. It’s dark blue and it shimmers, dips and flows perfectly, her legs are showing and her neckline is even more exposed. Serena just stares at her and after what feels like an hour of both of them looking at each other, she has to remind herself to breathe.

“Did you find everything in order?” Serena finally manages to ask.

“Yes, thanks,” Berenice answers, suddenly looking down to fidget with the fabric of her dress. “I’ve sent my location to my driver, so he’s going to pick me up soon.”

“Goody, well, would you like to have something to drink?” Serena suddenly remembers her role as a hostess and looks around her kitchen as if everything is brand new.

“No, thanks.”

“I could make a cup of tea. Or coffee! Although our coffee machine is on the blink and sometimes the stuff it produces tastes an awful lot like burnt rubber. Probably not coffee, then - can’t risk poisoning you.” Serena rambles while she opens and closes some kitchen cupboards, Bernie’s silence doing nothing to stop her anxious nattering.

“How about a glass of juice?” Serena asks, after having a look into the fridge. She turns around, notices the now almost constantly raised eyebrow and blushes. “Better not, I think, better not.”

“There’s some baked beans left, if you’re hungry?” Serena turns back to the fridge, further scrutinising its contents. “I could make toast?”

Was that a barely suppressed shudder, Serena wonders when she looks at Berenice again. Her clipped “No, thanks” is painfully polite.

“Are you always so short on words? I mean, I saw you on the Graham Norton Show once and it looked like you were able to hold a conversation using more than the same three words repeated throughout. You even laughed, which is something I probably won’t ever forget hearing. Reminded me of the geese at St. James’s.” Realising what she just said, Serena turns from the fridge to Berenice with wide eyes. “I… quite like them. Lovely animals. Beautiful plumage. Soothing to feed and to look at.” Her meagre attempt at digging herself out of that hole is broken by laughter.

It is as fabulous a sound as Serena remembers - and absolutely infectious.

Which is how both women find themselves almost in tears when they hear the doorbell ring a minute later.

“I’ve got to go,” Bernie says, somehow managing to get herself under control again.

“Yes, you probably do,” Serena agrees, wiping mirthful tears from her eyes, while walking Berenice to the door.

They face each other, smiles ghosting both their lips.

“Thanks for your help.” Berenice finally says, making Serena wonder why this suddenly feels so stilted. She hesitates, but then decides to voice her thoughts, because why not. Chances are low that they’ll ever meet again.

“You’re very welcome. My apologies again. Nevertheless it’s been a pleasure. You are... very lovely.” Serena pauses, feels the heat rise up her skin, unable to stop herself in time. “I should take my chance to tell you so, because after you’ve taken a closer look at the book you bought, you most certainly won’t return to my shop.”

A chuckle escapes Berenice's lips and her eyes twinkle, but otherwise she just smiles at Serena’s little speech.

“Well… nice to meet you. Surreal, but nice. Have a lovely day!”

And with that, Serena almost shoves Berenice Wolfe out of the door in a slightly awkward manner, only to collapse against her closed front door seconds later.

“Surreal, but nice? A bloody goose? What’s the matter with me?” she groans in horror.

She wanders back towards the kitchen, mumbling “baked beans on toast” to herself. Wonders what Morven might think has happened to her. Looks for her mobile to call her immediately, when she hears someone knock on her door.

“Coming!” she shouts, moving back towards the front door, just to find Berenice Wolfe standing in front of her again.

“I’m sorry, but I forgot my shopping bags,” she says with an awkward smile.

Serena runs a hand through her hair and turns back towards the kitchen. “Oh, right. Just a moment.” She goes to pick up the missing bags, only to find her unexpected guest back in the hallway once again on her return.

“Here you are…” Serena says, handing the bags over.

Their fingers brush, and suddenly there’s this strange feeling of intimacy. Serena’s breath catches and her eyes fall on the exquisite curve of the neck right in front of her. She swallows, her throat suddenly a bit dry, and within a second the many times she admired the actress on screen flash through her mind. She lifts her gaze only to find brown eyes watching her intently, a curious expression on Berenice’s face. Her dress rustles, the space around them seems to shrink, their eyes locked. As if watching in slow motion, Serena sees the other woman lick her lips and suddenly there’s the desire to kiss her, kiss Berenice Wolfe who she has only just met. Which is a good thing, because all of a sudden Berenice leans forward and then their lips touch. It is a lovely feeling - albeit fleeting - and Serena feels quite at a loss when their kiss ends.

“I… I’ve got to apologise for the goose comparison. Absolutely uncalled for,” she manages to say, her mind still reeling at having been kissed by Berenice Wolfe.

“Don’t worry about that. I think the baked beans on toast were the real low point. Can’t stand baked beans.” Bernie smiles at Serena.

Unexpectedly a key clicks in the lock and they practically leap apart, both looking at the door in a bit of a panic.

“Oh my, that’ll be my nephew,” Serena frets. “I do apologise. He is a lovely young man, but a bit different and also a bit of an acquired taste, I’ve got to admit.”

The door opens and Jason looks more than a bit irritated at the both of them all but blocking the doorway.

“Hello, Auntie Serena. What are you doing at home at this time of the day? Why are you wearing my t-shirt? It doesn’t suit you. Why are you standing in the hallway? It’s rather dark and not the right place to entertain guests.”

He doesn’t wait for Serena to answer before he turns towards Berenice. “Hello, I’m Jason. Who are you?”

“I’m Bernie,” the blonde says automatically, looking a bit stunned by the young man.

“Hello, Bernie. Are you staying for dinner? It’s shepherd's pie night and we always have enough leftovers, so it would be ok for you to stay. But you would have to help peel the vegetables.”

“I… won’t stay for dinner.”

“Ok. Maybe you’d better come over for fish and chips night next time, because we don’t have to prepare the food ourselves then. Auntie Serena, I’m going to my room now. I’ll return downstairs to help you with dinner when it’s time,” he says, already heading upstairs to his room.

Both women just stare at him until he vanishes out of sight. They turn back towards each other, and Serena, who’s still a bit hung up on the fact the actress just introduced herself as “Bernie”, can clearly see the puzzlement on the blonde's face. She feels a bit at a loss at what to say, shrugs her shoulders while searching for the right words.

Finally Bernie clears her throat, looks at Serena from under her fringe. “Probably best not to tell anyone about this.”

Serena just nods and goes with her wishes. “Right. Sure. No one. I mean… I might tell myself sometimes, but don’t worry - I won’t believe me anyway. I mean… ‘Bernie’? People call you Bernie?”

Bernie gives her a smile and shrugs. “Well, Berenice is quite a mouthful. Bye…” she trails off, apparently realising that she doesn’t even know the name of the woman she just kissed.

“Serena. Serena Campbell.”

“Goodbye, Serena Campbell.” and, with a brush of her hand over Serena’s shoulder, Bernie Wolfe once again takes her leave.

Chapter Text

A few days go by and it's like a veil has been lifted. Suddenly, Serena is aware of how surrounded by Bernie Wolfe she is. She sees her face on the front page of a tabloid, notices posters advertising her newest film literally everywhere. There’s even a screening of one of her older films at the Electric.

Serena waits for Jason to leave for his chess club, then goes to see the film. It’s a kind of artsy, angsty romance, filmed all in black and white and at the end, Bernie’s smile fills the screen as her male co-star finally proposes to her.

The whole way home, Serena feels like she still has that magnificent smile burnt into her brain. Maybe that’s what makes her turn on her computer and type “Berenice Wolfe lesbian” into the search bar.

She closes the browser as soon as she sees some obviously manipulated pictures in quite the compromising situation. Takes a deep breath and opens it up again. After about an hour she admits defeat. Nothing, absolutely nothing points into the direction of Berenice Wolfe even being slightly interested in women. Lots and lots of stories about men, though. Seems like every time she even crosses the street in the company of a man, the tabloids start to ask for a wedding date.

Just let it go, Serena tells herself. Don’t try to understand what happened. It’s most likely that the other woman has already forgotten about the quick kiss she shared with a stranger in a small hallway somewhere in Notting Hill. Might be a celebrity thing.

She decides to take a long hot bath before bed, tries to banish every single thought about Bernie Wolfe from her mind. Goes to sleep and dreams of soft lips, loud laughter, and a beautiful smile.

The next morning drags. The weather is bad; it’s raining cats and dogs and most people decide to stay indoors. Unfortunately, the man who made her late for dinner about a week ago is one of the few to brave the weather. Serena inwardly groans, but still gives him her best customer service smile.

“Good Morning! How may I help you?”

He looks around the shop and picks up a volume about a guy travelling through Ireland with a fridge.

“Where can I find books by Dickens?” he asks, without even looking at her.

Certainly nowhere on the shelves of a travel book shop, you bloody sod, Serena thinks, but manages to keep it at “I’m awfully sorry, but we are a travel bookshop. You won’t find any of his books here. Only sell travel books, you see?”

He harrumphs a bit at that, still reading the blurb.

“How about this other author… writes stories about London and magic and rivers. Proper London-bred chap, he is. Don’t remember his name, though.”

“Ben Aaronovitch? I’m afraid his books don’t count as travel books either, even though his newest one takes place abroad.” Serena is at a loss with this guy. Everything she tells him just seems to fly over his head.

Luckily for her, Morven finally arrives. Serena gives her a dazzling smile and practically shoves her towards Mr. Oblivious, before escaping to her office. If she has to decide between talking to that man for another fifteen minutes and doing her paperwork for the next three hours, she will gladly choose the paperwork.

Sometime later Morven appears at her door, looking quite embarrassed. She fiddles with her hands and shuffles her feet and for a moment Serena fears she’s about to hand in her notice.

“What’s the matter, dear?” She tries to ask as kindly as possible.

“I- I might have made a mistake. Might have cost us some money. I’m really sorry about this, Serena,” Morven rushes to say.

“What happened?” In her mind Serena is already making a list of possible catastrophes.

“I had a look at the answering machine two days ago and wrote everything down, but I misplaced the note, I can’t find it anymore and we didn’t call the customers back and I don’t remember everyone who called and they might get angry.”

Serena sighs with relief, because there are worse things that could have happened. “Well, can’t be helped. Do you think you might remember at least some of them?”

“There were four. Mrs. Arley, she asked about a book for the South West Coast Path. I already called her back. And one guy, who wanted to know about something or other, but I don’t remember his name or number. The most curious one was a woman, who only introduced herself by her first name. Said, ‘Hi, it’s Bernie. Call me at The Ritz, tell them to put you through to…’ and then she mentioned a completely different name. A joke, probably, which leaves the fourth and-”

“Bernie?” Serena’s voice rises, and Morven gives her a wide eyed look. “A woman named Bernie called and asked to be called back at The Ritz?” Serena can’t believe this, tries to imagine a world where Bernie Wolfe would call her at her shop and utterly fails.

“Yes. She specifically said not to bother to mention her name, but, I don’t know. She mentioned another name… something like Cate Blanchett? Kate Winslet?”

Serena just stares at Morven. Morven stares back, clearly a bit frightened.

“Ok, here’s what we’ll do: You go and take care of the shop, and I’ll try to call The Ritz and sort this out.” Morven just nods and shuffles off to the front of the shop, clearly relieved to get out of Serena’s sight.

Serena sighs, finds the hotel’s number online and braces herself. Her call is answered by a posh-sounding man. She momentarily falters, but the thought of getting to talk to Bernie again makes her steady herself.

“Good morning, my name is Serena Campbell and I’d like to speak to Ms. Berenice Wolfe.” Keep it short and simple, she tells herself and hopes for the best.

“I’m sorry, but unfortunately we don’t have a guest with that name here, Ma’am.”

“How about… Kate Winslet?” Every moment in her life in which Serena felt like an utter fool before, is surely topped by this one.

“Sorry, Ma’am, we don’t have a guest by that name either.”

Serena closes her eyes in frustration. She hears something rustle in front of her and looks up to find Morven leaning against the doorframe once more. She has a piece of paper in her hand, on which she has written ‘Try Kate Stewart’, giving her an encouraging smile.

“How about… Kate Stewart?” she almost mumbles.

“I’ll put you right through, Ma’am,” the man on the other side says smoothly, and before Serena can actually believe her luck, the line is picked up again.

“Hello?” Bernie’s voice sounds as lovely as Serena remembers. For a moment her mind blanks and she forgets how to handle a conversation. “Hello?” she hears the other woman again and it comes rushing back at her that she should actually say something.

“Oh… hi. Hello. It’s Serena, Serena Campbell.” She manages to sound almost sane.

There’s a low chuckle at the other end of the line and Serena blushes at the sound, glad that video calls aren’t yet the norm.

“Wouldn’t have thought you to be someone who plays it cool. I’ve waited two days for you to call me back.” Bernie sounds more amused than annoyed for being kept waiting.

“Believe me, that wasn’t my intention at all. I didn’t even have an intention, because until about half an hour ago I didn’t know you’d called. My shop assistant forgot to tell me,” Serena quickly reassures her.

“So it only took you half an hour to call me back? I appreciate that.” Serena can almost hear the other woman smile and the memory of how radiant her smile flashes through her, along with the memory of how soft her lips were on Serena’s own. She suddenly feels flustered, takes a calming breath that hopefully can’t be heard over the phone.

“Well…” She doesn’t really know what to say, doesn’t know what Bernie might expect. There’s a bit of a commotion on the other side; someone starts to talk in the background and Bernie answers, her hand obviously placed on the receiver to muffle the sound.

“I’m sorry,” she says, after she is back on the line, “Things are a bit busy around here.”

“We could talk again later. Or I could drop by for tea or something?” Serena offers before she can think better of it, astonished at her own bravery.

“That… sounds good, actually. Let’s give it a try. How about three o’clock?”

“Three o’clock at The Ritz. I’ll be there.” Serena manages, hopefully without sounding too breathless.

“I’ve got to go now. See you this afternoon,” Bernie says and within a few seconds she is gone.

Serena sits at her desk, the phone still in her hand and a look of utter disbelief on her face.

“I’m going to have tea with Bernie Wolfe,” she says aloud to the empty room in an attempt to get a grasp on reality once again.

After she finally comes back to her senses, everything happens in a bit of a flurry. Morven, who is still feeling bad about her blunder, promises to take care of the shop for the rest of the day. Knowing that any attempt to concentrate on work would be futile, Serena goes straight home instead. Since it’s Friday, Jason is staying at his girlfriend and her parents’ house, so at least she doesn’t have to worry about him. Worry she does, though, having emptied almost the whole content of her wardrobe onto her bed.

What does one wear for tea at The Ritz with a famous actress?

Chapter Text

After finally coming to a decision clothes-wise - and even finding the time to drop by the florist first - Serena arrives at The Ritz. Having obtained the room number, she finds herself in front of the suite in unexpected company. A young man stands by her side and waits for her to knock, smiling politely even after she’s shot him an irritated look.

“Are... you going in there?” she asks.

“Sure, sure I am. Wouldn’t know what to write otherwise. Also, who would turn down the chance to speak to her in person?” he answers politely.

Serena can’t help feeling slightly let down, even though Bernie didn’t exactly promise her anything. Maybe she misinterpreted their call and Bernie will... hold court or something? Before she can decide against some fangirly group meeting and turn back, the door opens and a woman greets both of them with a wide smile.

“Hi there, lovely of you to come by. Here’s the press package, take a look at it and I‘ll call you right up when it is your turn for the interview.” And with this she thrusts a folder towards each of them and ushers them into a room that has been set up as a kind of waiting area. Before Serena can utter so much as a peep, the woman is gone again.

The lad eyes her with interest, clearly notices her discomfort.

“First time with the circus?”

“I‘ve got to admit that I feel a little bit at a loss right now.” Serena mumbles, leafing through the folder. Sees a full size body shot of Bernie Wolfe in some kind of snug fitting overalls and can’t take her eyes off it.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” the guy pipes in. “Probably breathtaking in real life, too. You even brought her flowers!” he says, nodding at the bouquet at her side.

“Yes, yes, I did. Although I’m wondering now if this was a good idea. What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you could give her the flowers, or just pretend that they are for someone else if you think it’s too much. You could always make up a story of visiting a friend at the hospital afterwards to explain them away.”

Serena just nods, still unsure about where this whole madness will take her.

A door at the end of the room opens and an older man pokes his head through. “Next one!” The chap next to her gives Serena a nudge and nods at the door.

“Off you go, otherwise you might faint with anticipation. Good luck, you’ll do just fine. Just remember: under all that glamour, she’s probably just like you and me.”

Serena manages to get off the chair and walk towards the door in a fog. Still unable to figure out what this is all about, where she misunderstood or let something slip by unnoticed that might explain all of this.

The door opens into a truly opulent room. Antiques that were clearly not made in China during the last twenty years, richly patterned covers and curtains, a rug that - if walked on barefoot - probably feels like walking on a cloud, and flowers. So many flowers. In the middle of it all is Bernie, seated on a delicate two seater. Her eyes catch Serena’s and there’s an instant silent plea.

Nobody utters a word until the man who shepherded her into the room gives a cough and looks curiously at the both of them.

“You better get on with it. We don’t have all day!” he says, clearly irritated by Serena’s cluelessness.

“Ric, would you be so kind as to ask for some more tea?” Bernie smiles at him, completely ignoring his grumpiness. He just nods and leaves the room. As soon as the door closes behind him, she exhales visibly and turns towards Serena.

“I’m so, so sorry! I thought this would be over and done with by now, but everything got delayed and you are here and they think you’re a journalist and-”

“They think I’m what?” Serena interrupts, sits down heavily across from her, trying to process this rather unexpected turn of events.

“We did a press screening today. To be concluded by the attending journalists getting to ask the cast a few questions afterwards, so they now think that you are one of the journalists.” Bernie answers ruefully.

“For which paper?” Serena wants to know.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Didn’t they ask you that already?”

“No, they didn’t. Would have been found out if they did. At least now I’ve got the time to think of something suitable.” Serena taps her lips with one finger while she mentally goes through a list of fitting publications “Well, how about The Independent? They’ve got such interesting film reviews.” Serena grins at Bernie, glad to see her noticeably relax and return the smile.

“Unfortunately no one could mistake you for Trent Crimm - and he was already in, so no chance.”

“Just my luck. Well, I’ll think of something if they ask. Or we could tell them that I’m actually here to have tea with you? I’ve brought you flowers by the way.” She thrusts them a bit awkwardly in Bernie’s direction, her bunch looking decidedly sorry in comparison to the other flowers in the room.

“Oh!” Bernie looks at the bouquet as if they are the most unexpected thing. “Thank you.” She takes them and places them by her side. “I don’t think that it would be advisable to tell anyone why you are here. In fact, I really don’t want to involve you any further in this madness. It’s rather tiresome and I already have enough of a reason to apologise to you.”

“Well, you didn't know that this would take longer than intended. No need to apologise,” Serena says, but the look at Bernie’s face tells her that this might actually not be the thing she wants to apologise for.

“I-” Bernie starts, falters a bit. “I actually wanted to apologise for the kiss.”

“The kiss.”

“Yes. It was rather uncalled for, and I’m very sorry about it.”

“You’re sorry to have kissed me?” Serena can’t keep the hurt out of her voice.

“Yes, well, no... well, it’s... complicated?” Bernie offers up in an unsure voice. “I don’t normally go around kissing people I’ve just met, people whose names I didn't even know at the time.”

“Me neither,” Serena says, indignant.

“I wasn’t trying to insinuate that.” Bernie sighs.

Serena just looks at her and tries to decide on the best way to handle this. Somehow, even though she doesn’t really know Bernie - doesn’t know her at all if one is being honest about it - she also doesn’t want to let go. Doesn’t want to just turn her back on this, whatever this is. It’s not at all about Bernie being famous, it’s about something else, something that makes her feel connected to her, makes her want to get to know her better.

“Look, how about we have dinner this evening? Let’s just... eat and talk.”

“I can’t. I'm leaving London tomorrow and I’ve got - this thing planned for tonight.”

Now it’s Serena that huffs in frustration. “Ok, well, that can’t be helped. Look, we’ll probably never see each other again, so let me assure you that there is no need to be sorry. I’m fine. You are not the first woman I’ve kissed, you’ll most likely not be the last. Even though it was very unexpected, I don’t regret our kiss. So please don’t worry on my behalf.”

Bernie looks at her wide-eyed and gives her a nod. She just starts to say something when the door behind Serena opens again and Ric comes back into the room. Bernie gives Serena a conspiratorial wink, clearly set on keeping the charade up and running.

“So, did you enjoy the film, Ms. Campbell?”

Serena gives her a sour look, but Bernie just smirks at her. Challenge accepted, she thinks to herself.

“Of course I did! I’ve always liked your work. Seeing you in such a setting, working so obviously in sync with the rest of the cast kept me very entertained.” Serena has never had a problem talking and charming her way around things. She refuses to falter in front of Berenice bloody Wolfe, even if she has to pretend to write for Horse & Hound to pull this off.

Bernie raises an appreciative eyebrow. “Thank you so much. Is there a last question you want to ask, Ms. Campbell?”

Serena could indeed think of a few choice questions to ask, but they aren’t at all related to a film she hasn’t even seen yet, and not exactly appropriate to be asked in present company. She decides to play it safe, asks about Bernie’s next project, earning herself another smile and a rather vague answer. Tea guy (Ric, Serena remembers) stands up after that, clearly set on ushering her out of the room. She shakes hands with Bernie as a goodbye, which makes her heart jump and her breath catch, even though she immediately inwardly scolds herself for it.

Back in the main suite, Serena takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders and makes her way to the exit, telling herself to feel relieved for surviving another surreal encounter with Bernie Wolfe. Nothing more to come of it now. Disappointment bubbles up inside her and brings a wave of tiredness with it. She promises herself a large glass of wine as soon as she’s home. That and some feel good TV show should do the trick.

She just reaches the door when the woman who greeted her in the beginning almost pounces on her unexpectedly.

“There you are! Wondered where you might be. Think you might have gotten a bit lost. Follow me, please. I’ll show you around to meet the rest of the cast.”

With this, a very, very long hour begins, with Serena having to charm her way through several interviews, all of them a bit stilted. But given that she has never done this before - especially not for a film she hasn’t the slightest idea about - they’re not as bad as they could have been. After she has done the last interview, Serena feels tired and more than slightly rumpled. She is almost out of the door for a second time, when she is once again caught by the woman ushering people around. She groans, can’t hide her irritation.

“I’m sorry, but would you follow me once more? Ms. Wolfe would like to speak to you again,” she says, surprise clearly audible in her voice.

Serena is just as surprised, can only nod vaguely and follow her back to the room she met Bernie in before.

Bernie looks tired too, her hair distinctly more ruffled than before, strands hanging loose from the formerly tight bun, part of her fringe falling into her face. The shawl around her neck has disappeared somewhere, and she’s unbuttoned part of her shirt, showing a very lovely neckline. She looks a bit apprehensive, as if unsure how to proceed now that Serena is actually back.

“Look. The thing I had planned - this evening - it’s not happening anymore. If you would like to have dinner still, we could... you know. If you haven’t changed your mind?” She guardedly smiles at Serena from across the room.

Serena beams back at her. “Of course I haven’t changed my mind! Would you like to decide on a restaurant or should I make- ” Serena suddenly remembers what day it is. “Fuck!” she cusses rather unapologetically.

“Is there a problem?” Bernie asks, her eyebrows scrunched up.

“Yes, no... no, not really. It’s the birthday of a very dear friend and with everything going on today, I rather forgot that I was meant to go over for dinner. I’ll just let them know that I can’t make it.”

“I could go with you,” Bernie suggests tentatively. “As your plus one?”

“What? Accompany me to a dinner party at a friend’s house? A friend that can’t cook by the way, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Sure, why not. Unless you really don’t want to go - then you can use me as a welcome excuse and we can have dinner at a restaurant somewhere.”

“No! If you’re sure that’s what you want, then it’s fine with me.” Serena pushes forward, propelled by her own boldness. A tiny voice inside her asks what she thinks she’s doing, but she successfully manages to ignore it. “Well, that’s settled then. I’ll pick you up at seven if that’s ok? Dinner is set for eight, so that’ll give us enough time to get there.” Serena feels almost giddy with excitement, her disappointment from before forgotten.

“Seven it is,” Bernie seems to relax and smiles at Serena again. “I’m looking forward to seeing you back soon, Serena.” and with this last sentence ringing in her ears and Bernie’s smile flashing before her eyes, Serena forces herself to take her leave, impatient to return.

Chapter Text

By the time they approach her friends’ house, Serena feels like she is brimming with nervous energy. Bernie, meanwhile, seems completely relaxed for someone who is going to meet a bunch of new people - people who might even get a bit starstruck. Of course she would be used to meeting lots of people, while Serena’s nerves have never been so on edge. She wonders how things will proceed, why Bernie was keen to accompany her, what her friends might say, how they will act.

The moment she finally knocks, she tells herself to take a deep breath and let go. It isn’t like she would be able to change things anyway at this point.

Raf opens the door almost immediately.

“Serena! Feels like we haven’t seen you in ages - you look lovely! Made an effort for us, haven’t you? Or is it more of an effort for your mysterious plus one you decided to bring at the last minute?” He turns to Bernie still smiling, only to stop short in the middle of his attempt to shake her hand. His smile kind of freezes, he stares and stutters, “You’re Berenice Wolfe.”

Bernie nods, holds out her hand and smiles at him in return.

He turns back to Serena and repeats, “This is Berenice Wolfe. You brought Berenice Wolfe to dinner?!” in an accusing kind of voice.

Serena decides to take the plunge.

“You are absolutely right, love. I brought Berenice Wolfe to dinner. Hopefully your better half won’t poison her with his latest attempt at fine cooking and there’s a chance of getting a drink. When you finally let us in.”

Raf comes to his senses and almost shoves them both down the hallway and into the spacious kitchen. “Sorry dear,” he whispers to Serena, while awkwardly hovering behind their backs. He’s desperately attempting to catch his partner’s eyes, before he, too, embarrasses himself.

Fletch has his back turned to them, and is frantically waving a tea towel at the smoke clouds coming out of the oven.

“I swear it was in there only five minutes longer than it should have been. Ten at most! Definitely no more than twenty.” He reaches down into the oven and retrieves a pan with the smoking remains of something that might have been two birds somewhere along the line.

He turns towards all of them, stress and sorrow clearly showing on his face.

“I’m sorry you guys! Clearly something wasn’t right with the recipe. Can’t trust Sainsbury’s magazine. Should have used a proper cookbook!” In his panic, he clearly doesn’t register Bernie - just gives her an absent nod and a half-smile. He places the pan on the cooker and eyes the smouldering birds warily. “I think it might be possible to salvage parts of this.” He finally notices Raf almost jumping up and down while flapping his arms behind their guests. “You all right, love?”

Serena and Bernie turn around and Raf stops immediately, a blush spreading across his face. “Yes, of course. Everything is just fine. Don’t worry, we’ll get over the minor kitchen setback.” The two men smile at each other, both of them clearly used to situations like this one.

“Can always get a take away.” Fletch sighs.

“No need for that. The tatties and greens will still be good and we’ve got that lovely cheese and apple sauce from Marks & Spencer’s. We’ll manage just fine.” Raf reassures him and more or less discreetly nods at Bernie and Serena standing by the side. “How about we start getting our guests drunk so they might not notice the slightly charred taste of the food?”

“Of course! Why don’t they have a glass of wine yet? Poor Serena must be parched already.”

Serena blushes and tuts at that, while Bernie chuckles at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Fond of your wine, are you?” she inquires while Raf and Fletch move around the kitchen.

“I’ll have you know that I do highly appreciate a fine bottle of red, yes. Shiraz, preferably. That doesn’t mean that I can’t do without, though. Raf sometimes makes me sound like an addict which I am decidedly not.”

Bernie smiles at Serena’s slightly sour face. “I wouldn’t have thought so,” she reassures her, at which Serena feels herself relax and able to smile back.

Raf appears in front of them, two glasses of red in his hands. “Here you go. Shiraz, as always, Serena and for you too, Berenice. Or would you prefer something else?”

“No, thanks. Shiraz is fine. Oh, and please, call me Bernie. Berenice… it’s a bit too much for my taste.”

“Sure,” Raf gives her a disbelieving look. “Bernie. Bernie it is.”

Fletch, finally having dealt with most of the food crisis, comes over, also carrying two glasses, one of which he gives to Raf. “I’m so sorry. Those birds proved to be more of a bother than I thought. But Serena, you brought a guest! Great!” He smiles at Serena and turns towards Bernie, and the moment Serena introduces her as Bernie…

“Wolfe! Berenice Wolfe,” Fletch says, recovering admiringly fast. “How’s the wine?”

Before Bernie has the chance to answer, there’s a loud knock on the front door.

“That will be Fleur.” Raf goes to open up the door.

“The birthday girl?” Bernie looks at Serena and Fletch in confirmation.

“If you call her a girl, you’ve already won her heart.” Fletch grins at Bernie.

There’s a kind of commotion in the hallway and seconds later Fleur almost jumps into the room, striking a pose.

“Hello you lot! Please give me a drink, so that I forget it’s my birthday, but still make me feel cherished and admired.” She grins at all of them. After another second her eyes fall on Bernie. Her arms drop to her side and her eyebrows almost rise to the top of her head. “Oh holy fuck?!” is all that she manages to say, still staring at the blonde.

Serena takes a step forward. “Darling, this is Bernie. Bernie, this is Fleur, one of my dearest friends.”

Bernie gives Fleur a smile and wiggles her fingers at her. “Hi, happy birthday!”

“Good Lord, what have you done? I mean, this is really a lovely surprise, but hiring me a Berenice Wolfe double is kind of unexpected. I mean she’s hot, but Serena what were you thinking?” She eyes Bernie with a judging gaze. “Although I really like what I see. You’re almost as beautiful as the original, dear. Are you a mere impersonator or will there be a show? Might you even be a stripper?” Her smile widens into predatory and she takes a step towards the other woman.

Bernie almost chokes on the wine she had the misfortune of drinking that moment. Serena turns beet red and Raf restarts his hand flapping, shushing chicken impersonation. Only Fletch seems unperturbed.

“No one’s gonna take their clothes off, love, sorry to disappoint, but you’ll have to live with that. And no, we didn’t get you an impersonator - this is the real deal and I think Serena would prefer you to be a bit more… subdued. Look at her face, she’s mortified.”

Everyone turns to Serena, who just groans and kicks herself for even thinking that she would be able to get through an evening with her friends unruffled. The embarrassment subsides when Bernie slides her hand along her back and gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s alright. I mean it is kind of funny, isn’t it?” she whispers into Serena’s ear.

Serena gives her a forced smile and turns to look at Fleur, who pouts back at her.

“I’m awfully sorry, love, but how do you think I’d react? Serene Serena turning up with a famous actress for my birthday party? I've been trying to get you to leave your comfort zone for months now, but I’ve never come anywhere near to expecting this. Nowadays you normally just bring some shop talk and the latest news on the documentaries you’ve recently watched with Jason. Not some delicious treat like this.” Fleur gestures and winks at Bernie.

“Gosh, one of you makes me sound like a drunk, the other one describes me as the most boring person on earth. Please tell me how I came to deserve such a sorry lot as my best friends again?” Serena rolls her eyes and, before Fletch can come to her rescue, there’s another knock on the front door.

“Sacha. Finally!” Raf almost runs up to the door, only to return a few minutes later with the last of the guests in tow. He smiles at all of them, before hugging Fleur a bit awkwardly.

“Congratulations, birthday girl! Sorry I’m late. Bollocksed up at work again, I fear. Millions down the drain.” Fleur pats his arm reassuringly, while Serena makes some sympathetic noises. By now they all know that he isn’t the best suited for the job he has right now. Sacha pulls himself together and smiles at Bernie. Bernie smiles back. Nothing else happens.

“Sacha, this is Bernie.” Serena finally introduces the other woman.

“Hi Bernie, lovely to meet you.” Sacha shakes Bernie’s hand, smiles once more and turns to Fletch. “What’s up with dinner? I’m starving and I hope you didn’t manage to make a mess out of everything?” The amount of raised eyebrows in the room is staggering, but Sacha doesn’t notice and therefore everyone decides that this must finally be the true unperturbed British way to deal with occurrences like this one.

With all the guests finally present, the mood starts to feel more relaxed and soon the group splits up in final preparations for dinner. Fletch keeps Serena in the kitchen under the pretence of needing her help with dinner, while Bernie is whisked off to the living room by the others, their laughter soon to be heard ringing through the house.

Meanwhile, Serena doesn’t feel much like laughing herself. Fletch has put her on greens duty. There’s no way to politely escape and, by the stern look he is currently giving her, she can already feel the questions piling up.

“Have you slept with her?” he finally asks.

Serena is taken aback, thinks he can’t possibly be expecting her to answer. She just makes a vague noise and pokes at the broccoli simmering on the stove.

“You have slept with her.” Fletch seems to have come to a decision.

“Why are you suddenly so obsessed with my sex life?” she whispers at him, afraid that Bernie might hear. Someone enters the kitchen, but it’s only Raf, coming back from wherever he went with Fleur. A moment later Sacha looks into the kitchen.

“There you are. Really! Fleur is showing Bernie to the bathroom and I’m on my own, while you hang around in the kitchen. What’s up with you lot?”

“Bernie is upstairs?” Raf asks eagerly.

“Yes, she is. Why?” Sacha seems to be completely at a loss with their behaviour.

“Quickly, quickly, quickly, Serena. Talk very, very quickly. What are you doing at our house with Berenice Wolfe??”

“Berenice Wolfe?” Sacha practically barks in response, his face losing what little colour he had to begin with. Everyone else shushes him in a desperate attempt to keep Bernie from noticing their little gathering.

“Berenice Wolfe.” he mumbles, only to see his friends nod in answer. He groans and lumps himself against the doorframe. “Goodness. Oh my, ohhh my... “

“What have you done now?” Serena hisses at him.

“I just made polite conversation!” Sacha defends himself. “Asked her what she was doing for a living. “I’m an actress”, she said. “Oh, splendid,” I told her. Then I started to tell her about our university theatre club and doing Monty Python sketches in my youth, you know, the old wink, wink, nudge, nudge thing.” Serena lets out a pained groan, while Fletch looks like he's having the time of his life.

“I told her that I was a stock broker and fairly appealed at the little money actors have to come by with. Appealing, I told her. Then I asked her how much she had earned on her last job.” Sacha dabs his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“She looked me straight in the eye and said “Seventeen million dollars.”” Sacha stares into the distance.

“Seventeen million dollars,” he mutters. “That’s when Fleur came into the room and they went to the bathroom and - apparently she wasn’t joking.”

Serena just stares at him, slightly slack jawed.

“You asked Berenice Wolfe how much she earned on her last film?” Fletch sounds as if Sacha just made his day, better yet, his whole week. Fortunately for everyone involved, Fleur enters the kitchen before Serena can either throttle him or Sacha.

“Spill! Right now!” she addresses Serena, her eyes sparkling with glee. “What is she doing here?”

“Pull yourself together, please. We met at the shop. She bought a book. Then we met again. Even I’m not completely sure what she’s doing here and I brought her. If you make her feel uncomfortable, I’ll forever regret not taking her to a restaurant instead of coming to see you all. Can we please try to act as normal as possible?”

“Serena has got a point,” Fletch says. “Let’s dial it back a bit. It’s time to serve dinner anyway. Come on, take a seat and we’ll dish up.” He shooes them out of the kitchen and towards the dinner table.

Chapter Text

Dinner goes surprisingly well. It’s like all the tension left the room the moment they sat down to eat. It might be the shared experience of one of Fletch’s overly-ambitious meals, or maybe they all collectively decided to give Serena a break.

Whatever the reason, Serena likes the outcome. Watching Bernie engage with her friends, exchanging light banter with Fleur (who just can’t behave herself), listening to Sacha’s latest money-burning work stories and laughing with Raf and Fletch in regards to their latest work shenanigans, she feels content and happy.

She catches Bernie’s eyes across the table just as she’s taking a sip of wine, and Bernie gives her such a fond smile that Serena’s certain her heart skips a beat or five. She smiles back, willing herself to keep breathing. It’s like time has slowed down just for the two of them.

The moment is broken by Fletch’s outcry at Fleur’s attempt to steal the last brownie on the plate before anyone notices.

“Oi! That’s the last one! I know it’s your birthday, but you already had -” Fleur’s glare warns him against detailing her eating habits “- your share,” he ends a bit lamely.

“So what? Should we cut it into pieces, for everyone to have a bit of a nibble?” Fleur pouts.

“Let’s compete for it! Winner gets the brownie all for themselves.” Raf suggests, making everyone groan.

“Compete how?” Serena asks. “I certainly don’t feel up to a physical competition right now.”

"That's a shame, Serena. Here I thought we could have an arm wrestling competition to win the brownie and you promptly back out! Makes me feel a bit sad not to be able to show off the hard earned benefits of my latest work imposed strict fitness regime." Despite her words, Bernie doesn't look sad at all, but laughs at Serena's appalled reaction.

"If this is how you look when you have to act sad, I wonder how you keep getting all those roles thrown at you," Serena huffs.

“That settles it, you lot. We've got this - we can do better! Or worse, actually. The saddest person at the table will win the brownie. Sob stories out, everyone. Let’s hear about your sad attempts at life.” Fletch smirks at them, ignoring their various mumbled attempts to back out.

“Well,” Sacha starts with a sigh, “I’m absolutely sure that I deserve this brownie, but I’m also quite sure that I won’t get it, because I never win. I’m also at a loss at my job, I don’t know what I’m doing and I fear that my boss managed to catch up on that fact. Which means, I’ll be out of a job sooner rather than later. And - as you all know, my love life is, well, nonexistent and has been for quite a while. I had that disastrous attempt at using Tinder and may I remind you about the one woman who agreed to meet up with me?”

Everyone besides Bernie erupts into groans and Raf mutters “Oh, please, don’t.”

"Ah, come on… give me a break. Not everyone can get as lucky with love as you both are!" Sacha exclaims with a gesture towards Raf and Fletch, making both of them look at each other fondly.

"I have to say that you're right. We've been extremely lucky bastards when it comes to love." Raf admits. "I mean, here we are loving each other, living together."

"In this big house," Fletch interjects with a frown.

"In this big house." Raf nods in agreement. "Bit too big actually for the two of us we thought."

"So we decided to change that." Fletch gazes at his wine glass. "I mean, there are so many kids out there needing someone who cares for them and here we are with this big house-"

"You're going to adopt," Serena blurts out in delight.

"Actually, we aren't," Raf says, resignation colouring his voice.

"We wanted to, but for now we can't." Fletch seems to be on the brink of breaking his glass now. "I never imagined myself with a house full of kids, but then we met and things changed. And now that I can imagine us raising kids, it turns out we can't."

"Well, we aren't allowed to. Due to 'circumstances'." Both men huff, their sarcasm and hurt is palpable. "We all know what they mean by that." Raf makes an exasperated hand gesture. "Gay - and unmarried on top of that!"

Even though the mood is suddenly a bit too solemn for a birthday dinner, Fleur snorts at the gesture, ending the introspective mood of both men.

"You see - the brownie clearly is ours, as we are living in double sin," Raf says with a wink at Fletch.

“Pish-posh! You'll find a way. Get married, finally. Sue the agency if you must. Gay adoption shouldn't be that difficult nowadays. So step away from that brownie, because you don’t stand a chance, love,” Fleur chimes in. “I mean, I know it’s my birthday, but this is a rather sad occasion if you think about it. You two have each other - and I? Another year older and I’m still flitting around the ever shrinking, almost non existent lesbian scene. I mean, casual sex is fine, don’t get me wrong, but still… shouldn’t there be more to my love life by now? What if gravity finally takes its toll? What if I’m too used to being on my own to actually be able to commit to someone else? I can’t keep on dancing on tables in seedy bars for the rest of my life. Also, my genius is wasted at work right now. I’m constantly bored. I hate being bored.”

“That’s nothing special, I’m afraid,” Fletch sighs. “We are all getting older and you aren’t the only one who’s bored at work, eh?” Fletch looks at Serena rather pointedly. “Due to the fact that Serena is here with someone who is thankfully unaware of all her shortcomings, we might have to help her win that brownie. Otherwise she might forgo the competition to save her blushes.”

Serena buries her face in her hands. Protesting won’t help at all, there’s nothing to do but to brace herself and hope for the best - or at least hope that Bernie won’t run off during the next few minutes.

Fleur laughs and - of course - gleefully starts: “You’re right, you know? I mean, I’m bored at work, but at least I get paid. Whereas Serena is bored at work and constantly on the brink of having to close up her shop. It’s a miracle that she's even lasted this long.”

“But, you know, I heard that her shop might have become the latest celebrity spotting place. The rich and famous seem to have started buying books there.” Raf winks at Bernie, who laughs. “Whereas her private life… I don’t know. It’s a bit on the dull side, don’t we agree?”

“There’s only so many documentaries one can watch in the evening before going bonkers, right?” Sacha chimes in good-naturedly. “Your whole life revolves around Jason and the shop, the shop and Jason. That sounds a bit dull, even for me.”

Serena contemplates grabbing the brownie and throwing it out of the nearby window, just to stop this. She can’t look at Bernie right now, can’t bear to see the horror on her face, having realised what a mistake she made by contacting Serena. How completely different their lives must be. She feels a foot nudging hers, looks up to see Bernie more amused than shocked. The blonde winks at her and taps a foot against hers once more. Just like that, things don’t look so bad anymore.

“Well if you insist, just give me the damn brownie and be done with.” Serena takes the plate, but Bernie grabs at it too and holds on.

“Wait! What about me?”

“You?!” Raf almost laughs out loud. “You think you might lead the saddest life of us all? Are you for real?”

“Hang on, folks. Let her have an attempt at getting the brownie. Fair’s fair.” Fletch nods at Bernie and Serena lets go of the plate. Bernie settles back onto her chair and gives them all a grave look.

“You know, all you see is the glamourous part of this life. The fame, the money, the flattery… but it isn't real. None of it is. I know I’ve made it so far, but the risk of failure shadows me every day. Someday they all will notice that, by some kind of smoke and mirror trick, they all thought I could act, but in reality I’m just good-looking with excellent family ties, but no real talent of my own. They will notice my failing looks and, as more and more of my family crumbles around me, they won’t be so obliged to hold back their critique of me as they once were.”

Serena tuts at this, shaking her head in disbelief at the idea that people might actually fail to notice how beautiful Bernie is.

“I mean, it’s already brutal. Take the orange juice, Serena. If a picture of that had found its way to the tabloids, they would have had a field day. I just can’t be myself in public without someone latching onto me, squeezing my private life for every ounce of entertainment they might find, leaving me behind feeling utterly degraded. I love acting, love it with every single part of me, but I hate being deemed a public figure because of it. I hate how social media makes me feel when a project I was dedicated to, comes to an end the public doesn’t care for.”

Everyone has fallen silent by now, only the slight rustling of clothes breaking the silence when Serena shifts on her chair. Bernie looks solemn and even a bit tired, which Serena notices with concern.

“Really, I don’t even use Twitter or Instagram or whatever is hip nowadays if I can avoid it. People nag and nag and behave like I am obliged to give them more than I want to, more than I am able to, just because I’ve chosen to be an actress. They blame me for things that are completely out of my control due to how the film business is run nowadays. Sometimes I wish it would all just end. I wish I could slip into being ‘the famous actress formerly known for her roles as…’. I’d miss acting too much, though. But maybe the next time the media tears apart my private life because of something or other I did, I’ll be devastated enough to finally turn my back, move back to London, let a few years pass by and live my life in peace.”

All eyes are on Bernie, who keeps hers fixed on her wine glass, rolling its stem between her fingers. She looks contemplative, sad and even a little bit lost. Serena frowns at her, Bernie’s words still resonating inside her. She wonders how she could have misjudged the life Bernie leads so badly. Suddenly Fletch breaks the silence with a cough.

“Nice try, beautiful, nice try. I’ve gotta say, you might’ve convinced the rest of the table with your little monologue, but you don’t fool me.” He grins at Bernie, who suddenly doesn’t seem to be sad anymore and grins back at him.

“Can’t win them all.” She shrugs her shoulders and gives him a wide smile.

“No, you can’t. So no brownie for you!” Fletch pushes the plate towards Serena, who shakes her head laughing and gleefully digs into the piece of cake.

Chapter Text

With dinner having come to an end, they spend some more time in the company of Serena’s friends until they finally decide to take their leave. Light banter with Fleur, stilted words with Sacha and extended goodbyes with Fletch and Raf take their time, but finally they step outside only to hear loud hollering and hysterical screams from inside. Serena promptly blushes and groans and Bernie can’t hold back a chuckle.

“Let me guess - they always do that when you leave?”

Serena just snorts. They start to walk down the street, both caught in their own thoughts, until Serena finally decides to be brave.

“Would- would you like to come to... My - my house isn’t far and Jason isn’t home tonight-”

“That would be way too complicated,” Bernie sighs.

“Oh… ok.” Serena tries not to feel too disappointed. They continue to walk in silence, until Bernie clears her throat.

“Are you busy tomorrow?”

“I thought you were leaving London?” Serena gives her a sideways look.

“I was.” Bernie looks back at her, a cautious, hopeful smile on her lips. “I’m not anymore.”

“Oh.” Serena feels warmth spread inside her. “I’ll have to check with Jason. He might not be too fond of the idea of staying at his friend’s for another night.”

“He could come with us. If you don’t want to leave him alone for another evening.”

“You’re sure about this?” Serena raises an eyebrow at Bernie.

“No,” Bernie chuckles once more, “but I’ll try if it means I get to see you again.”

Suddenly Bernie is distracted by the park behind the railing they are walking by and stops the moment they are at the gate.

“Look at this. I didn’t know that they had communal gardens around here? I grew up in a house with access to one.”

“You did?”

“Yes. We’d always meet up with the neighbour’s kids and explore. I loved the gardens.” Bernie gazes fondly at the greenery behind the gate. “You know what? Let’s explore this one - take a walk around.”

“Bernie, we can’t - they’re private! The gate is closed and there’s no way to get inside-”

Serena’s mouth drops open at the sight of Bernie taking two steps back and swinging herself up the railing with the help of a short run-up. She carefully holds herself up on top of the fence and looks down at Serena with a proud smile.

“You coming? Or do you need help?”

Serena gives the railing an apprehensive look. It’s high, it’s spiky and it lacks decent footholds. She has never been the sportiest person and she feels like she is rapidly nearing an age where she should refrain from climbing up any kind of architecture that wasn’t specifically designed to be climbed upon. On the other hand, she is way too competitive for her own good and she can’t just let Bernie sit on top of the fence, smirking down at her.

Her first try is less than graceful. She only manages about a third of the height, then she loses her footing and slides down back to the start. She manages to break her fall, but gets tangled up in the ivy, provoking a quickly suppressed laugh from Bernie. She gives her a stern glance and starts again. Bernie slides down on the other side and holds her hands out to her through the bars.

“Leg-up,” she says, smiling.

Torn between the want to manage on her own and the need to get this over with, Serena accepts the help and manages to haul herself up. She gingerly navigates the spikes and topples down on the other side with less grace than she would like. Bernie has already made her way further into the garden and Serena has no other choice but to follow her, still huffing a bit from the unexpected exercise.

“Pray, tell me what is so special about this place that we have to risk mortal injuries to be here?” Serena has finally caught up with Bernie, who stands still at the edge of the trees, looking at the lavish garden in front of them. Suddenly she turns and Serena’s breath hitches at the look in her eyes. It takes only a millisecond for Bernie to take a step towards her and then they are kissing again. Bernie’s lips are warm and soft and kissing her is even better than Serena remembers. She feels herself being tucked against Bernie’s body and she can’t help tangling a hand into Bernie’s hair and moaning in response to their bodies colliding.

After what could have been mere minutes or several hours, they disentangle themselves from each other in their need to breathe. Serena smiles at Bernie, feeling relaxed and excited at the same time, feeling more alive than she remembers feeling for years. Bernie smiles back at her and takes her hand, tugging her further along the lawn. They slowly walk among the greenery, their hands linked, their shoulders brushing, until they reach a solitary park bench overlooking some rose bushes. A plaque is fixed to the bench, dedicating it to “June, who loved this garden and the roses - from Joseph, who always sat beside her.” Bernie lets her fingers glide almost reverentially over the plate.

“To think that there are people spending their whole life together,” she muses.

Serena doesn’t say a word, just squeezes Bernie’s hand. Their eyes meet and there’s this connection between them that Serena doesn’t feel brave enough to put a name to for now. She lays her hand on Bernie’s cheek and traces her cheekbone with two fingers, gliding down to her lips. Bernie places a kiss on them the moment they are in reach for her. Serena feels herself once more being tucked against the other woman’s body and loses herself in this glorious feeling again. They stay there, beside the bench dedicated to a love spanning decades, for quite some time.

Chapter Text

The next day finds Serena in a hurry again. Although Jason assures her that he will be fine on his own, even offers to warm up some pre-cooked dinner that’s not on his usual meal plan, she feels awfully late for her dinner plans with Bernie. She flits around the house, getting more and more anxious by the minute and by the time she is finally ready, wearing her new dress, make-up as perfect as possible, she is practically brimming with nervous anticipation.

The moment she enters the living room to say goodbye, Jason stops the latest Mary Beard documentary he is currently watching and gives her a calculating look.

“Your lipstick is very gaudy, Auntie Serena. And your dress seems to be awfully clingy. Do you feel comfortable in it?” he asks.

“I did until about thirty seconds ago.” Serena answers wryly, wondering if there was still time for her to change into something less clingy and more demure. Unfortunately there isn’t and she has to go like this or not at all, the latter option certainly an unwelcome alternative. She practically runs from the house after leaving Jason with some last minute instructions to call her any time if something is bothering him, only to find herself being whisked off by a waiting taxi

The driver drops her off at an Italian restaurant located on a quiet neighbourhood street. She enters only to find Bernie already occupying a table, slightly separated from the rest of the room with the help of some plants.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she says instead of a greeting.

“You aren’t.” Bernie gives her an appraising look and a dazzling smile. “I managed to slip away early and I didn't want to wait in front of the restaurant. The chances of someone taking a picture are just too high.”

“Everyone is a paparazzi these days with all those smartphones around. Can't be easy.”

“It isn't, no. But let's not dwell on that and enjoy our evening, shall we?”

And they do. Their conversation flows freely, their meal is excellent and the wine, the wine is something Serena probably won’t forget anytime soon. It is only topped by the radiant beauty of the woman sitting in front of her, she thinks.

“The blonde… the leggy one… what's her name...” comes a voice.

“Berenice Wolfe!” reacts another.

Suddenly the conversation at a table around the corner from theirs becomes a bit raucous and both women perk up when they hear Bernie's name being spoken out loud. Obviously a group of men had turned their conversation onto famous women, getting louder in the process of trumping each other by shouting out names.

“Her last film sure was something. Can't wait to see it again!” one of them voices excitedly.

Serena raises an appraising eyebrow at Bernie, who in turn shakes her head a bit and lets her fringe fall into her face as if to hide from the unexpected compliment.

“Ha… probably can't wait to have a wank seeing it again.” Another man chimes in and the group breaks into laughter.

“Oh come on, both of you. Don't be daft. She's way too old… and too flat breasted. There's an abundance of actresses better looking than her.” This voice comes with an obvious sneer.

Serena's eyes darken at that. Bernie is still keeping her head down, but her shoulders are tense now, her whole posture suddenly so far from being as relaxed as she had been not ten seconds ago.

“I wouldn't mind getting my hands on her tits, though. I mean, that one scene she did? Being fucked up against a wall? I bet she'd like that for real.”

Blood rushes through Serena's ears and she moves her eyes to look at Bernie. The blonde seems to shrink in on herself, probably wishing to be anywhere else but here. Serena grits her teeth. She has watched Bernie become more and more relaxed throughout their evening, has become more and more aware of how much she likes being in Bernie’s company, how much she likes Bernie. And now the men’s inappropriate talk has ruined the mood and their evening. Suddenly Serena finds herself entering war mode.

“Ok, that's it for sure.” she says, throwing her napkin on the table like a gauntlet as she rises to her feet. Bernie jumps and looks up at her, visibly alarmed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to put a stop to this! Who do they think they are to talk about you like… this?” and with that, Serena walks briskly around the corner towards the offending group.

They are laughing but abruptly stop when they notice Serena approaching their table.

“Hel-lo…” one of them practically leers at her, making her bristle even more. “How may we help you, darling?”

“By shutting your mouth or at least by changing your subject and letting other people have their dinner in peace and quiet.” Serena glares at him. “Who do you think you are, speaking about a woman in public like that?”

“What’s it to you, love? Envious? Come sit down with us and we’ll stop talking about other women and show you a good time,” another of them chimes in.

“I’d rather wash today’s dishes in the kitchen, thank you. You are -” Serena feels like she is going to explode any minute now when a hand suddenly clamps down on her upper arm, whipping her away from the group. She wants to turn back, but Bernie keeps steering her towards the exit with astonishing strength.

“I wasn’t finished!” Serena huffs at her, noticing how Bernie is still keeping her head down so as not to be recognised.

“I figured. Believe me, I'm thankful for you trying to talk some sense into them, but people like them can't be helped.” Her face is unreadable, hidden behind strands of golden hair.

“So you let them badmouth you and just… take it as part of your life?” Serena can’t wrap her mind around it, feels sick to her stomach at that thought. She wonders how Bernie manages to stay so calm. Serena was pretty sure that she’d never be able to keep down the fury she feels on her behalf. Suddenly Bernie doesn’t seem as confident anymore as Serena thought her to be.

“Some years ago, I might have been brave enough to confront them, but…” Bernie just shrugs her shoulders and continues to exit the restaurant before she comes to an abrupt stop. She turns towards Serena before looking back at the restaurant with a sigh. The men already seem to have forgotten about Serena's unexpected wrath. Serena feels her anger well up again. They get to continue their fun evening out while theirs had been cut short due to their Neanderthal behaviour.

“Would you please excuse me for a moment?” Bernie gives Serena's arm a reassuring squeeze and turns back towards the table.

With her head held high and a posture that belongs on a red carpet, she approaches the table with an elegance that has Serena’s eyes firmly fixed on her.

“Hi,” she hears Bernie start, can see a false smile plastered over her face.

The guys turn towards her and simultaneously freeze.

“I would like to apologise for my friend.”

“Oh my God…” comes a pained groan from the guy who started the whole thing off.

“She's not in the business and still a bit sensitive.” Bernie continues, smiling at every single one of them as if they weren't the scum of the earth to her.

“What… no… uh… look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-” The guy who invited Serena for a good time pipes up and Serena has to fight the urge to join Bernie and empty the bottle of wine on their table over his head.

“Oh, please. Water under the bridge. I know how things are for you men. I mean, let's face it - it's a Friday evening and you’re all here. Some time with friends, right? Not a woman in sight. Complete lack of opportunity can make men feel a bit… bitter towards women. You probably all think that you could show any woman a good time if only - if only you would ever get the opportunity to talk to a real one. If they wouldn't just ignore you out of spite.” Bernie gives a theatrical sigh.

“So instead you sit here, at a restaurant, comparing your achievements on the path to finally meet and be with a woman, which are probably as uninspiring as your brain functions and your ability to self-reflect and, well, things happen. It’s a lot easier to fantasise about someone who is unapproachable anyways. Not your fault then when it never happens, is it? Well… please continue. Enjoy your meal and the company of each other. Likely the only company you might have for quite some time,” and with this, Bernie turns away from the table and walks back toward Serena, leaving the restaurant with her.

Chapter Text

Serena waits until they can't be seen from inside the restaurant anymore before she dissolves into laughter. She’s laughing so hard she has to hold onto Bernie to stop herself from falling over. Not that she really minds holding onto Bernie, no matter the reason.

“Goodness, you killed them,” she finally manages to gasp. Bernie, keeping her steady by holding onto her arm, pulls a face and snorts.

“I might regret this. I didn't see any mobiles, but really - if someone took a video of this, I'll never live this down.”

“I don't think anyone did. The guys were too busy staring at you and everyone else minded their own business. I think it did you good to let off a bit of steam! Go for it, don't let people talk bad about you!” Bernie just groans at Serena's words.

“Look, I'm not rash! I'm careful and I keep my thoughts and emotions to myself and… and… what am I even doing with you, Serena?” Bernie grabs hold of Serena's waist and pulls her towards herself.

“I'm afraid I don't know.” Serena feels a bit clueless, lacking the sense of direction her life normally has. Her hand comes up to trail along Bernie's shoulder, catching the lapel of her coat between her fingers. Her eyes fall on Bernie's lips, but the moment she makes a move to kiss her, Bernie raises her head and takes a small step away from Serena, letting go of her completely.

“We can't. Not here. Although I want to... Desperately.” Bernie drags her hands through her hair with a sigh. She starts to walk again, Serena keeping pace by her side. “Why am I like this when I'm with you?”

“I don't know…” Serena gives her a sideways smile and raises an eyebrow. “Must be my irresistible charm.”

“Ha! Has to be.”

They round the corner and the entrance to Bernie's hotel comes into sight. They stop again and face each other, both of them trying not to show how nervous they suddenly feel.

“Here we are,” Bernie turns towards the brightly lit hotel with a contemplating look. Suddenly she turns back towards Serena, a new kind of resolve showing on her face. “Do you want to come up?”

“There seems to be a lot of reasons why I shouldn't.” Serena tries her best to not lose herself in fantasies of what might happen if she accompanies Bernie up to her room.

“Lots of reasons,” Bernie nods in agreement. “Do you want to come up?” Their eyes lock and the chemistry between them thickens the air.

“Yes, I'd like to come up, Bernie,” Serena finally answers, letting go of her concerns.

“Give me five minutes, ok? My room number is 803.” Bernie once more squeezes Serena's hand and then she turns around and walks into the hotel, the concierge opening the door for her and greeting her with a smile.

Five minutes begin to feel like an eternity, but finally Serena makes her way through the hotel's lobby and takes the lift up to the eighth floor. She arrives at Bernie's door feeling nervous, but determined. She knocks on the door and, a few seconds later, Bernie opens it.

Serena takes one look at her and her smile falters. Bernie looks stressed.

“Serena…” Her voice has lost the carefreeness that had been there only minutes before.

Serena makes a move to lay her hand on the other woman's shoulder and wonders why the mood has suddenly changed. Bernie takes a step back and turns towards the hotel suite, listening to something inside.

“You have to go.” She turns back towards Serena, her face a curious mixture of regret and - fear? Serena feels shaken. This is most certainly not how she expected their evening to end.

“Why? What happened?” She won't be turned away that easily.

“My partner is here. I didn't expect him to be here. He should be filming in the US. But he's here.”

“Your - what?” Serena desperately hopes that she misheard.

“Marcus, my partner. He - and I - we… the press - I have to, you know, I can't…” and while Bernie rambles on, a man appears behind her.

Serena thinks she knows his face but can't quite place a name. Not that she cares to know who he is right now. At this very moment, she definitely wouldn't mind if he ceased to exist completely. He's mildly handsome, has dark hair and a stocky build, but he can’t hold a candle to Bernie. Bernie, who is looking at Serena like a rabbit caught in the headlines of a rapidly approaching lorry.

“Bern, who's this?” He seems to be in the process of undressing, currently unbuttons his shirt, and Serena suddenly feels sick to her stomach.

“She's one of the studio's new assistants.” Bernie blurts out, her eyes still fixed on Serena's face.

“Oh… hi-ya, then. Don't keep her too long. I just flew eight hours to see her, so I don't want her to waste anymore time on work, ok?”

Serena just curtly nods, her eyes darting between Bernie and him.

“Still new to the job and a bit star struck?” He gives her a presumptuous smile. “You do seem a bit old for that - but you'll get used to the likes of me being around your place of work soon. I won't hold it against you for now.” He winks at her and ambles out of the room.

Serena harrumphs at his retreating back and fixes Bernie with a stare.

“When exactly did you plan on telling me that you were already in a relationship?” She feels rightful anger rising through her body and continues to hiss at the woman in front of her. “Probably not before we've fallen into bed together as far as I can tell from your behaviour. Right after, maybe?”

“Serena -” Bernie still seems to be struggling to find the right words. As if there are right words for a situation as messed up as theirs right now, Serena thinks with a sinking heart.

“He is… I am… goodness, he is my partner, officially, yes, because I… I can’t just- with the studios…” Bernie stops talking and just looks at Serena. Sees the pain she caused welling up in her eyes, the betrayal. She stops and sighs. “I’m sorry, Serena. I didn't plan for this to happen. I don’t know what to say.”

“Goodbye, seems to be sufficient.” Serena can’t stand to stay around anymore and turns away from this disaster. Everything hurts and she just wants to get out of here, out of this damn hotel and as far away from Berenice Wolfe as possible. Away from someone who almost made her do something she could never do. Something she’d promised herself never to do after all the heartbreak Edward had caused her with his affairs. You don’t have sex with people who are in a committed relationship. You don’t have an affair, you don’t betray someone else. She hears Bernie calling her name but keeps on walking. She rounds the corner and high tails it out of the hotel as fast as she can. Finds herself on the tube and makes her way towards home, still in a daze.

Jason isn’t home. Serena is glad that he isn’t. She wouldn’t want him to see her like this - all tied up in knots over some woman, some actress she should never have invited into her life. She goes into the kitchen and fetches herself a bottle of wine. Drinks the whole bottle, sitting in her favourite armchair, feeling hurt, sad and confused. When she finally makes her way to the bedroom, she finds herself unable to sleep, even with the amount of alcohol she had consumed. She lies there, eyes open, her mind miles away, until the small hours.

Chapter Text

Time passes.

Serena simply goes through the motions without taking too much notice of days turning into weeks. She diverts all the energy she has left between her shop and Jason, retreats into some kind of shell in all other aspects. She doesn't smile so much anymore, doesn't chat to her customers like she used to, doesn't really make an effort to connect with her friends.

On her way home, she walks by the Electric one day - and stops in her tracks. Bernie’s face is plastered all over their display cases, her newest film apparently already a huge success. Serena stands rooted to the spot in front of the cinema, transfixed by Bernie’s face, a mixture of yearning and hurt bubbling up inside her. She forces herself to take two tentative steps back, tries to turn around and go - home, back to the shop, anywhere but here - but she can't.

She feels herself drawn closer again, until she stands right in front of the teller, buying a ticket. Entering the hall she automatically chooses a seat far away from the other patrons and settles down with the large glass of red she’d bought. Then the lights go out, the film starts, and suddenly there’s Bernie right in front of her, so close and yet so far away. For almost two hours Serena watches Bernie smile, laugh, fall in love. It’s the pinnacle of self-harm.

Serena goes home feeling broken, like a superficially glued together version of herself. After a few words exchanged with Jason, she vanishes straight into her room before her tears start to fall. There she lies down and cries and cries, so much so that her sheets are soaked, her throat feels raw, and her heart finally, finally just feels numb. This is how she falls asleep, dead to the world until the next morning.

Which is when she finds her kitchen full of people. Luckily she has found the energy to shower and look as presentable as she manages to look these days. She initially comes down in need of coffee and is confronted with Jason, Raf, Fletch, Fleur, Sacha and Morven. They all look at her gravely and for a moment she wonders if someone died.

“Serena,” Raf nervously clears his throat, squares his shoulders, and continues, “this is an intervention.”

Morven steals his thunder a bit by handing Serena a fresh cup of coffee. She smiles at the young woman and settles herself against the wall, the coffee cup cradled in both hands. She eyes her friends, wary of things to come, but sees only love, empathy, and more than a bit of sorrow etched into the faces before her.

“You can’t go on like this, Serena. As lovely as this bloody woman has been, you can’t just go and put your life in the freezer because of her. Berenice Wolfe might have been a wonderful and enchanting dream come true for a moment, but a dream nevertheless. A bad one actually. You have to get back to living your life.” Fletch gives her an apologetic smile.

“You’ve got to move on, dear! Who needs some woman who doesn’t care for you to pine over? Go, get yourself a distraction! There’s plenty of fish left in the pond.” Fleur’s speech is oh so typical for her, Serena just can’t help but snort.

“I’m with Fleur, Serena,” Raf starts up again. “There's this guy I know from work who might interest you - he’s no film star, but he seems to be a decent enough bloke. Told me he has been single for too long now and wouldn't be opposed to getting to know someone special again. How about we arrange dinner at ours for the four of us? See how it goes? Dip your toe back into the pond, so to speak? Maybe forget about women for a while and see what this guy has to offer?” All of them nod at this suggestion, all except Jason.

“What about you, Jason?” Serena looks at her nephew, relieved to see that he seems to be quite calm and collected, even though their kitchen is currently over-crowded. “I do have to apologise to you most of all,” she sighs. “Seeing that you had to bear the brunt of me moping around these last few months. What do you think I should do?”

“You are obviously still quite sad, Auntie Serena, but not as sad as you were right after Bernie didn’t treat you right. I think you should have dinner with Raf’s friend. It might cheer you up.” He stops for a moment, then continues. “You should also take more walks. Taking a walk improves one’s mood and gives one a chance to think about all that is happening while getting some fresh air.” The mood shifts at this, becoming less tense. Fletch stage whispers something to Raf, who promptly starts chuckling, only to be hit on the shoulder by a stern looking Morven.

Serena gives Jason a smile and a nod. “You’re right. I've hung around the house too much, I should start to get out a bit more.” She looks at Raf. “Let me know when. I’ll give this friend of yours the onceover. Provided of course that dinner will be edible and there will be a bottle of wine with my name on it.”

Raf and Fletch beam at each other, clearly relieved to have managed this with almost no resistance coming from Serena.

“I’ll do my best!” Fletch promises and they all groan good naturedly at him.

Chapter Text

Serena once again finds herself on duty in Raf's and Fletch's kitchen. She tries hard not to think about the last time she had dinner at theirs. Tries not to think of Bernie, eating and drinking wine and smiling at her while their legs touched under the table. Tries to concentrate on stirring the pasta sauce simmering in front of her.

Fletch smiles at her and nudges her shoulder. “Come on, don't fret. It's only pasta and even I can't make that much of a mess of a simple pasta dish!” She suspects he knows that her current mood isn’t really due to their meal, but is merely giving her the chance to save face. Serena feels inexplicably nervous - it's just dinner after all. At friends, no less. It’s not overly romantic and it's not as if she has to marry the guy Raf has come up with to be her date. Who's late, she notices with a look at the kitchen clock over the door.

As if on cue there's a knock on the door and Raf's shouting from the sitting room that he will get it. Fletch exchanges another look with her and gently pries the spoon out of Serena's tight grip.

“Come on, don't accidently spill half the sauce upon yourself. Don't think I'd let you go home due to being covered in pasta sauce - I'd just give you some of Raf's sweats and a t-shirt and you would have to make do with that.” She manages a smile at the thought and gently squeezes Fletch's shoulder.

“Thank you,” she just says in response.

“You're very welcome,” Fletch answers with another fond smile and a pat on her arm. “Now go and meet this man. Shoulders up, head high, Campbell. You're a prize.”

Serena goes into the sitting room, where a male voice can be heard loudly complaining about the lack of parking space in the neighbourhood.

The voice belongs to a man standing in front of Raf, clearly agitated. “Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes I spent searching for a parking spot around here. Don't you get mad doing this every day?”

“I thought you only lived a fifteen minute walk away from us…?” Raf starts to answer, but stops the moment he sees Serena enter the room. “There you are, dear! Serena, meet Robbie - Robbie, this is Serena. We've known each other for decades now and she's one of our dearest friends.”

Robbie turns around and looks Serena up and down before he offers to shake her hand. He's a nice looking guy, if a bit bland, but his judging look makes Serena feel like she's part of a cattle show and does nothing to ease her mind about this date. His handshake is pleasant enough though and his smile seems genuine.

“Hello Serena. Nice to finally meet you - Raf told me a lot about you.” He winks at her and Serena immediately wonders if Raf told him about her foolishness in regards to Bernie.

After a bit of small talk, Fletch announces from the kitchen that dinner is ready and they sit down to share the meal - which is surprisingly delicious if simple. There's spaghetti tossed in a spicy tomato sauce, fresh bread with an olive paste and herbs and a rucola salad with a lemony dressing, mixed with some more olives, a mild white cheese and pine nuts.

Robbie struggles with the pasta for a moment before finally giving up. Grabbing a knife, he cuts the spaghetti into smaller bits and uses a spoon to eat them. Raf's face is a picture of indignance and Serena barely manages to conceal her laughter with a fake cough into her napkin.

Throughout the meal, Robbie talks and talks and talks. About his work as an administrator. About his never ending workload of clearing papers. About his boss not appreciating him enough. About wanting a promotion for years now, but being ignored again and again.

Serena feels like she might fall asleep any minute now listening to him drone on. Every single attempt of steering their conversation - well, actually Robbie's monologue - into another, preferably a bit more entertaining direction, fell flat.

Finally, if not a change of speaker, a sudden change in topic has Serena perking up once more.

“... two years now. She actually came back after a few weeks and begged me to take her back, but it was all her fault and I couldn't let her walk all over me like this, could I?” Robbie huffs at Raf and Fletch. “A guy has to keep his pride in my opinion.”

Not noticing the relatively little approving reaction of the other men at his statement, Robbie continues to delve into the topic of relationships.

“I mean, I do have my share of fun, don't get me wrong,” he gives Serena another wink at that, but turns back towards Raf without noticing her raised eyebrow, “but you must know what I mean, Raf, don't you? We've known each other through work now for… what - a year? You’ve been single the whole time too and I don’t think I’ve even seen you attempt to change that. It's always “Oh I better go home now, Fletch is waiting” or “Fletch has made dinner.”. I mean, broship is a great thing, but don't you miss being in a relationship sometimes? To come home to a woman, her having dinner ready and eager to hear about your day?”

Raf almost chokes on the mouthful of salad he was unfortunate enough to try and eat at that moment. Fletch starts to pat him on the back while still staring more than a bit dumbfounded at their dinner guest. A feeling of surrealness washes over Serena once more, just not in the good way it had last time she’d found herself sat at this table. Surely, he wasn’t being serious? And his description of a relationship?

“Goodness, what exactly makes you think I'm single??” Raf blurts when he finally manages to speak again. He grabs at Fletch's hand, interwinding their fingers as if to make a statement.

“Let me assure you, he isn't,” Fletch says very matter of factly, giving Raf a fond but exasperated smile.

“We've been together for over a decade now, Fletch and I.” Raf seems to have reached his last straw.

“Wait, you’re gay?!” Robbie's voice breaks and his eyes widen almost comically while he looks warily at both men.

“Of course we are. I even told you about Fletch before?” Raf huffs, shaking his head at the thickness of the other man.

“I thought you were roommates!” he exclaims, clearly distressed by his sudden realisation. “Wait till I tell Harold about this, he will be shocked.”

“You won’t tell Harold, whoever he may be, about us being gay, ok? I bet Raf doesn’t go around speaking to other people about your life, does he? Not that I mind people knowing, it’s just not good manners.” Fletch’s hackles are clearly risen at the ignorance of the man before him.

“Well, he can if he wants to. I’m straight!” he turns to Serena and winks at her.

“I’m not,” Serena deadpans. Robbie gapes at her, seemingly lost for words for the first time since he arrived.

Which suits her fine, because she’s no longer interested in hearing even one more word uttered by this sorry excuse of a man. After a date like this, she swears to spend her days in the sole company of her trusty vibrators before even thinking about having someone like him at her side. No amount of good sex (and even that seems to be doubtful) could compensate for such intolerance and thickness.

“In fact I’m bisexual, but right now I'm considering swearing off men for a while. If you’re wondering why, I’d recommend you go and search for a mirror.”

Fletch snorts and Raf just stares at the both of them, clearly deeply regretting his choice of dinner companion for Serena right now. Without having to say it, they mutually decide to skip dessert after that as Robbie eagerly makes his excuses with a mumbled apology of having forgotten that he has an early day tomorrow.

After he left, the three friends unceremoniously flop down onto the sofa, three slices of tiramisu and a new bottle of wine within reach. Serena kicks off her shoes with a groan, side-eying Raf with a wry smile on her face. They all just look at each other for a moment before they all burst out laughing.

“How could he not…?” Raf can't manage to finish his sentence, still gasping for breath.

“The question is, how could you, love?” Fletch gives him a fond rap on the head. “I mean, poor Serena. How could you have thought that this guy would be a good match for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief as he pours more wine for them.

“I honestly don't know anymore. He seemed like a nice guy at work, but our contact is a bit limited and obviously I failed to notice any red flags.” Raf grabs onto his glass while giving Serena a most apologetic look. “I'm very, very sorry, Serena.”

Serena shakes her head at him and takes a sip of her wine. “Coming home after a long day at the office for dinner and some undivided attention? Honestly?”

“Well at least now we all know who's never again going to pick out a date for any of our friends.” Fletch raises his eyebrow at Raf, who still looks more than a bit crestfallen.

“You know what?Let's just focus on the good parts: we had a lovely meal and we still have wine and dessert to sweeten up the rest of our evening now that it is just us again. Let's toast to friendship and forget about everything else that happened,” he sighs.

Serena doesn't feel sad or gutted that things didn't work out. She's happy with the way things are right now, well, at least as happy as she can be whilst still being a bit hung up on Bernie and so she's determined to end this evening with her friends in a much more enjoyable way than it started.

Chapter Text

The second date Serena is set up on isn’t even worth dwelling on for another ten minutes after it ends. The man, a friend of a friend of Sacha's, is so completely bland that Serena can’t even find a negative thing to say about him, never mind a positive one. She smiles and nods and laughs through their dinner, but sheds their encounter like an unwanted coat the minute they say goodbye to each other in front of the restaurant.

She comes home to find Jason still perched in front of the tv, watching a Mary Beard documentary on some castle. He even stops the program to give her the chance to tell him about her evening, but she just shrugs her shoulders and sits down on the couch to watch the rest with him.

A few weeks pass, thankfully undisturbed by any of her friends trying to palm their acquaintances off to her. She almost feels like she is able to sink back into her routine again, minding the shop, minding Jason, minding her own business.

If not for Morven, she would have thought that she’d finally managed to get over the dating part of her life for now.

“I know Fletch said to try dating men for now, but really, she’s great! Funny, outspoken and well, I met her at yoga, so…” Morven actually blushes a bit at the last part and Serena can’t help but smile at her.

“I sincerely hope that you don’t want me to accompany you to yoga?” Serena shudders a bit at the thought. Surely there has to be a better way for her to meet other people. A wine club, maybe?

“No! No… not at all. I mean, not that I think that you wouldn’t be able to keep up wi- “ Morven gets a bit flustered and stops talking mid sentence.

“It’s ok, dear! I'm aware of my abilities - or disabilities in this case. So, this woman…”

“Amy.” Morven interjects.

“Amy. Is she… more of your age or more of mine?”

“Oh. Ohhh, more of yours, certainly.”

Morven looks at her like a puppy bringing the ball back to his owner for the very first time. Serena can't bring herself to dash the young woman's hopes and decides that a third date hopefully won't hurt.

“Red ok for you, dear?” Fletch gestures towards Amy with the bottle of red he just used to top Serena’s glass off.

“Just some water, please. I don’t drink.”

Serena's eyes widen and she just stares at the other woman wordlessly.

“I’m a buddhist, you know. Vowed not to influence my mind with fermented drinks, so no alcohol, no coffee and only herbal teas for me.” She smiles at Serena and chooses to either ignore or simply doesn’t care for the raised eyebrow she gets as an answer.

“No coffee. No wine.” Serena tries to wrap her mind around this. “Never?”

“Never ever. Stopped four years ago when I stayed at a wat for an extended time.” she says proudly “A buddhist monastery.” Amy adds helpfully, finally noticing the blank faces.

“A monastery.” Serena tries to get back on track with the conversation. “Sounds like you take this very seriously?”

“I do. Changed my whole life for the better.”

“Well, good for you!” Serena genuinely smiles at her. She actually feels relieved. Amy seems to be a lovely woman, but somewhere deep inside Serena just knows that she can’t be with someone right now. Surely Fletch and Raf will understand her not going on a second date with a buddhist teetotaller. No need to delve into further reasons. With this thought, she turns back to the conversation and manages to actually enjoy the whole dinner.

After having said goodbye to Amy at the door - no hallway kiss included - Serena turns back into Fletch and Raf’s living room. She drops onto one of their sofas and gives both of her friends a contemplating look.

“Do you guys know how lucky you are? I mean, think about it. You found each other. The city alone houses millions of people and you two managed to find each other. Marvelous, isn’t it?”

Fletch and Raf share a fond look before Fletch takes the lead.

“We know, love. Unbelievably lucky. We will never take this for granted, for sure.”

“Unbelievable lucky bastards, you mean?” Serena chuckles. “You’re my best friends and I love you both, but really, Raf, you should have given us a chance! I think we could have made it work.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, both of them laughing at the mere thought of them being more than friends. Then she sighs and lets her head fall back. “I’m tired of dating. I just want to love and be loved.”

“We do love you, you know that - don’t you?” Raf says fondly.

Serena raises her head and smiles.

“I know. I know, dear. But unfortunately you love me in a very non-passionate way.” She lets her head fall back again. “What I wouldn’t give for some raw, sweaty, unadulterated, vigorous passion to take my mind off things.”

“Well, for that, dear, you should probably ask Fleur to take you with her to her usual hunting grounds. I don’t think we can be of much help with that,” Fletch offers as a solution, “but be careful, she might make you dance on a table in a seedy bar with her, half naked.”

“Wouldn't that be something?” Serena musses, almost half asleep now.

“You wanna stay here tonight? No need for you to get up right now. I’ll even make breakfast tomorrow.” Raf gets up to fetch a blanket and some pillows.

“I’d love to.” Serena doesn’t want to go home. Doesn’t want to be alone right now. Wants to stay here, in the company of her best friends if it isn’t an option to be in the company of the woman she lost her heart to. Bernie probably has forgotten her by now. No need for her to hang on to a short fling, a slight disturbance in her otherwise oh so perfect life. Serena wishes she could be able to let go that easily, but it is painfully clear that she couldn’t. When she finally falls asleep on her friend’s couch, she does so thinking of blonde hair and unusual laughter.

Chapter Text

The next morning she vows to spend more time with Jason this weekend. Maybe he’ll want to go and visit a museum? It’s been some time since they last went to the Natural History or the Science Museum. They could make plans for Sunday.

She returns home shortly before him and is happy to hear him talk about Alan’s new Lego set that the both of them started to assemble yesterday. They just sat down at their kitchen table to make plans when there’s a knock on the front door.

Earning just a shrug from Jason, Serena goes to open the door to - Bernie. Bernie, looking haggard and haunted, wearing a coat with the collar turned up and dark sunglasses to further hide her face. Serena just stares at her, unable to process and find words befitting the situation.

“May I come in, Serena? Please?”

She just nods and steps aside. Feels like she has fallen back in time when the door closes behind Bernie and they both find themselves face to face again in the hallway.

Bernie looks incredibly nervous. She wrings her hands as her eyes lock on a seemingly interesting spot on the hardwood floor. When the silence stretched on, she suddenly raises her head and takes off her sunglasses. Her eyes are bloodshot and red-rimmed.

“I'm sorry to impose myself on you so unexpectedly. I didn't know what to do. The reporters are all over the hotel and I felt like I had to get out before I broke down completely. It's chaos. They tried to follow, but fortunately I managed to get rid of them and then I found myself here and… you can tell me to go if that's what you want, Serena.” Her pleading look betrays her words a bit but nevertheless Serena feels sure that Bernie would actually go if she tells her so.

“Why are you here?” Serena tries to make sense of the stilted report Bernie gave, but can't tell what caused the obvious mayhem the other woman found herself in.

“You haven't looked at the papers lately, have you??” Bernie sighs as she rubs her face.

“Actually, no. No, I haven’t.”

“They… found some pictures. Of me. 'Found' is a euphemism, by the way. Someone gave them to the press. Made themselves quite a bit of money, I’m betting. Can't trust anyone nowadays…” Bernie's voice trails off.

“What kind of pictures, Bernie?” Serena is increduled by the thought that some private pictures might be of such interest to the press that they could cause this much of a disturbance to Bernie's life.

“Not ones for the family album.” The other woman leans her head back and and slumps against the hallway wall. She looks so tired.

“Oh.” is all Serena finds herself able to say. She just stands there, unsure what to say or do next.

“Hello Bernie,” Jason says, announcing his sudden presence. “Why are you both standing in the hallway again? There are perfectly fine chairs in the kitchen and we do have a sitting room. Do you want some tea, Bernie?”

Bernie opens her eyes and just looks at Serena, probably waiting for her to decide first. To her obvious relief, Serena gives her a small nod and Bernie wearily smiles back at her. “A cup of tea would be good.”

“About the pictures…” They hadn't picked up on the topic again while they had tea with Jason. He had been very understanding about the unexpected change of their weekend plans, but decided to go to his chess club after a while and spend some time with friends. While Serena didn't want to press Bernie on the topic, she felt like she needed to know why the other woman was suddenly once again stood on her doorstep.

Bernie sighes and lets her hair fall into her face as if to hide herself away from Serena. After a few minutes of silence that seem to stretch and wrap around them, she finally opens her mouth to speak.

“I was in love. Stupidly in love. For the first time in my life. I should never have consented, but at that time… I was just-” She falls silent again, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “We took the pictures one afternoon. Pictures of both of us, pictures of me, pictures of…”

Serena couldn't hold back anymore. “And he sold them to the press? How dare he?”

Bernie looks up at her, but lets her gaze slide away once more. “She. She sold them to the press… or gave them to someone who sold them. I don't know. Of course only the ones where she isn't identifiable went public. It is still very clear that I'm not sharing my bed with a man, though.”

For the second time this afternoon, Serena doesn't really know what to say. She reaches over and gives Bernie's hand a hopefully reassuring squeeze. Her hand is cold and so Serena keeps holding on, gently rubbing circles into her skin with her thumb.

“Marcus left me in a huff. Told me that he finally realised why I had always been so cold and unenthusiastic towards him. Can't blame him for this conclusion, although I would have welcomed it if he hadn't told every journalist interested almost every sordid detail of our sex life. So that adds to the tally too.”

“I knew he was a prick.” Serena remembers Marcus. Condescending Marcus. With this though, she also remembers Bernie’s betrayal and slowly lets go of her hand.

“There was a time when I liked him, even though I already had realised that-” Bernie trails off once more, struggling to end the sentence.

“That you’re a lesbian? Bisexual?” Serena offers when it becomes obvious Bernie can’t continue.

“A lesbian,” Bernie whispers.

“So what? Isn't the film business full of openly queer people nowadays? It's not the sixties anymore.” Serena can't understand what the problem might be.

“Well, it's better nowadays… but when you’re booked as a romantic lead most of the time - a heterosexual romantic lead…” Bernie trails off once more and raises her head to look at Serena. “My manager told me right at the beginning that I would lose roles, that I would never rise above doing commercial spots or be more than an uncredited actor if I'd let others know I wasn't straight.”

“And you were ok with that.”

“I was young. I wanted to act so badly but I knew I had a long way to go and I needed to eat along the way.”

“It's ok. I understand. It's not like I was out and proud my whole life long,” Serena shrugs. “So what happens now?”

“I don't know,” Bernie looks forlorn again. “The hotel is surrounded, but I have to stay in London for another two nights. With the press like this it's going to be messy.”

“You can stay here if you want.” The words are out of her mouth before she has a chance to think them through.

Bernie looks at her with wide eyes. “I couldn't. I mean, the last time… we haven't spoken since… and it's bad enough that I just appeared on your doorstep unannounced. I couldn't impose on you anymore.”

“Bernie, calm down, please. You need a place to stay and I'm offering you a place to stay. You can have my bedroom and I'll take the couch. It's just two nights and we'll be fine. We are adults after all, aren't we?” Serena speaks with more confidence than she feels.

Apparently Bernie isn't the only actress around, because she doesn't seem to catch on to the fact that Serena is more than a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation and instead smiles at her in relief.

“Thanks for your help, Serena. Really.”

Chapter Text

They spend an oddly domestic day together. Serena runs a bath for Bernie to help her calm down a bit more, both of them decide on take out for lunch together and Serena goes to pick up their food whilst the other woman soaked. The afternoon finds them in the living room together with cups of tea in front of them, Bernie perched on the couch, reading a script she brought with her and Serena sitting in her armchair, dividing her time between trying to read her book and shooting glances at Bernie, who's looking more and more displeased.

“Everything alright?” Serena finally asks after Bernie huffs once more.

“Hmm…” Bernie hums non committedly. “I have to learn my lines, but with all the mess going on it seems like I can't get them to stick.”

“I could take you through them?” Serena hasn't done that before, but how hard could it be?

“Really? You'd do that?” Bernie looks at her with a shy smile.

“Of course. What's the film about? Another dashing romantic comedy?” Serena smirks a bit.

“Medical romantic drama actually. I'm a brilliant but socially awkward surgeon. A colleague asks me to consult on a patient he can't make sense of. In the beginning, I can't come up with a solution either and as I delve deeper and deeper into the problem, I get to know the colleague more and more personally until we both realise that we are in love with each other. It doesn't end well, though. Love in medical dramas never seems to end well nowadays.”

“Sounds… interesting.” Serena tries her best to seem enthusiastic, but Bernie just laughs at her.

“You're fibbing.”

“Well, it's not exactly my cup of tea to be honest.”

“And what is your cup of tea then?”

“I quite like historical films. Jane Austen for example. Romantic comedies can be good, too - but most of them are just too… straight. Not that Austen is openly queer, of course.” Serena can't help but roll her eyes.

“So maybe I should try to score a role in a queer historical film next time, hmm?” Bernie gives her a smile and she finds herself smiling back instantly.

“That would be something I'd definitely want to see. Unfortunately your next project is already in the planning, so let's come back to me taking you through your lines. How should we do this?”

“How about you come over here? That way I can get another look at the script if I have to without going back and forth in your living room?” Bernie tucks her legs in and gestures at the sofa.

Serena gets up, takes the script out of Bernie's hands and sits down on the other end of the sofa. It's a two seater, so she is quite aware of how near Bernie suddenly is. Even though she did her best to make enough space for Serena, their legs are almost touching. Chiding herself for being unnecessarily flustered, Serena concentrates on the script in front of her and sighs after she has read halfway through the first page.

“It really isn't Jane Austen. Well, can't be helped - where do we start?”

The evening proceeds with them sitting on the sofa, becoming more and more relaxed in the company of each other, even though Bernie still struggles with her lines. Jason returns home but quickly decides to go up to his room, he’s not interested in hearing Bernie make mistakes and Serena having to correct her again and again.

“I can't take anymore of this nonsense,” Bernie sighs theatrically. “I don't know where they got those writers, but for real - they probably were a bargain.”

“It rather seems more like a bad hospital soap than a full blown film script, doesn't it?” Serena shakes her head and throws the script on the table beside the sofa. Bernie just huffs, trying to suppress a yawn. Serena can see how tired she’s become.

“How about we call it a day?”

Bernie closes her eyes and leans back against the armrest with a hum.

Suddenly Serena becomes aware of how relaxed they have become during the last hours. Where they started off keeping their distance on opposite ends of the couch, their legs are now stretched out and intertwined. One of Bernie's hands rests on Serena's right leg and now that she's aware of it, she can feel Bernie's thumb rubbing in small circles and her warmth seeping through Serena's trousers. For a moment she almost leans back too. Almost lets the serenity of the situation wash over her and drag her under. She can imagine falling asleep like this. Though there’d be hell to pay later on with her back, she thinks it might be worth it.

Then she inwardly panics. Should she allow herself to fall asleep on the sofa, entangled with Berenice Wolfe? Whatever they are to each other right now, the delicate lines holding them together shouldn't be stressed by rushing things. The last time she let herself be driven by her feelings, everything ended in chaos and hurt. Maybe she should be more rational than to rush into - this.

Serena takes a deep breath, untangles herself and gets up. Bernie startles at her sudden movement and gives her a questioning look.

“We should go to bed?” Serena says and promptly feels the heat rise up in her face. “I mean… you take the bed and I'll stay here, of course. Not that we both-” she manages to stop herself from ending that sentence. “I'll get you something to wear and you already used the ensuite, so feel free to use it again.” She feels flustered under Bernie's eyes and nearly sprints out of the room and up the stairs to get away.

Half an hour later everything is ready for them to call it a night. They meet in front of Serena's bedroom, Bernie leaning on the doorframe, the soft light from the bedside lamp illuminating her hair. Serena wants to run her fingers through it, wants to kiss the other woman again, but tells herself repeatedly that this is not why Bernie is at her house. Bernie needed a place to stay. Her life is already complicated enough for now, it wouldn't be good to complicate it any further. She awkwardly smiles at her, feeling a bit stilted by her own desires. Bernie gives her a soft smile back.

“Thanks again for letting me stay, Serena.” Bernie takes Serena's hand and gives it a soft squeeze. “It has been a good day. Which, under these circumstances is - unexpected. I feel fortunate to be here.” Bernie leans forward and places a soft kiss on Serena’s cheek. It ends as fast as it begins and Bernie steps back again, giving her another smile. “Sleep well,” she murmurs before retreating into the room and closing the door behind herself.

Serena sighs and goes down to the living room. Lies down on her couch, suddenly wide awake and full of want. An hour goes by and she's still lying there, her head filled with the feeling of Bernie's lips on her skin and what ifs.

Suddenly there's movement on the stairs. Her mind starts to race and her heart speeds up - is that - will this be - what should she do if…? And then she’s startled out of her spinning thoughts and anticipation by Jason’s sudden appearance. Serena lets go of a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

“Auntie Serena? What are you doing here?” Jason looks down at her, clearly bewildered by finding her on the couch at night.

“I'm trying to sleep, Jason.” Serena sighs softly, trying her best not to let her disappointment colour her voice. “And what are you doing here? I'd have thought you'd be asleep by now?”

“I woke up and I wanted a drink. Then I thought I heard a noise in here, so I came to investigate. Why are you trying to sleep in here?”

“Well, Bernie's staying for the night and it wouldn't be polite to let her sleep on the couch. So I offered her my bed and stayed on the couch.”

“Why can't you both sleep in your bed?”

Serena doesn't want to tell her nephew that she’d asked herself exactly the same question about a dozen times already and tries to find her voice of reason. “I don't think it would be wise for the both of us to share a bed for now.”

“I don't see why not? You still love her, don't you? And she came to you when she was distressed. I only go to you or Alan when I'm distressed, because I know that both of you will help me and I trust and love you both. So she must love you, too, Auntie Serena.”

Serena is momentarily speechless, both by her nephew declaring that he loves her in such a passing way and his approach to her and Bernie loving each other.

“Jason, it's unfortunately way more complicated than that.” She warily smiles at him, hoping he understands that she loves him too, and that she's not just brushing his words off without thought.

“It's only complicated because you’re making it complicated,” Jason says with a shake of his head. “I'll go and get my glass of water now. Goodnight, Auntie Serena.” He turns around and leaves the room without another word. The house falls silent once more.

Serena loves Jason, but sometimes it isn't easy to convey her feelings and the difference between what might be appropriate and what wasn’t to him. She lies on the couch, staring at the ceiling again, when she hears him come back down the stairs. He just can't let things go easily, but the middle of an already sleepless night isn’t when she wants to get into a lengthy discussion with him. She closes her eyes in an attempt to ward off her upwelling frustration and waits until the footsteps finally reach her side.

“Please, I know you can't let it go, but let's wait until the morning and talk it through then, ok?” Serena can't keep her tiredness out of her voice and just hopes that Jason will understand.

“Oh… ok,” At the sound of Bernie’s voice, Serena bolts into an upright position and simply stares at her standing frozen in front of the sofa bed. She looks startled and is already stepping away again. Serena wants to scream at the whole situation.

“No - stay,” she practically orders whilst getting up. Bernie looks at her like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

“I thought you were Jason,” Serena admits whilst she rubs her face. “He was here a few minutes ago, asking me why I was trying to sleep on the sofa instead of sharing my bed with you.” She only realises what she’s said when she hears Bernie’s low shuckle in response.

“Well, he's rather perceptive,” Bernie says, looking down at her hands and back up again, her eyes searching Serena’s face for an answer to a yet unvoiced question. Apparently encouraged by what she’s seeing, Bernie takes a tentative step towards Serena and carefully places a hand on Serena's shoulder, letting it glide down her arm with the softest of touch. Serena breath hitches and she feels her skin erupt into goosebumps, absolutely sure that Bernie noticed both.

“I actually asked myself the same thing,” Bernie whispers. Her eyes never leave Serena’s while her hand continues to slowly stroke along Serena’s arm. Then she grazes her thumb along Serena’s collarbone and Serena shudders under her touch. Suddenly she doesn't want to be rational or hold back anymore. She leans forward and presses her lips to Bernie’s. The relieved sigh she hears in response silences the last doubts she had left. She loses herself in their kiss, overwhelmed at being able to do this again. She feels Bernie’s hands running up and down her back, feels herself being tucked against the other woman. Serena deepens their kiss and Bernie groans and surges forward in response, almost making the two of them stumble and fall onto the sofa bed. Regretfully, Serena breaks their kiss and pushes Bernie back a bit to right the both of them.

“We can’t-” she manages to say, before a frustrated groan interrupts her mid sentence. Serena chuckles and tucks a stray curl behind Bernie’s ear, giving it a tug in the process.

“I meant that we can’t here. What if Jason comes down because he hears us? I don’t want him to stumble onto us having sex on the couch. Especially not if there’s a perfectly fine bed in my perfectly fine bedroom upstairs.”

“Oh.” Bernie looks a bit sheepish and nods. “No. That wouldn’t be good at all.” She still seems unsure on how to proceed and Serena fondly shakes her head at her. Not too confident now, she thinks as she decides to take charge of the situation.

“Bernie - take me to bed, please?” and with this Bernie is set into motion again, a wide smile breaking across her face when she takes Serena’s hand, turns around and takes her upstairs.

Chapter Text

The morning sun falls onto the bed and wakes them up. They are still entangled in each other - Bernie’s leg between Serena’s, her breasts pressed against her back, an arm slung around Serena’s body, their hands intertwined - when Serena slowly comes to her senses. She could get used to this, used to waking up next to Bernie.

Bernie’s breathing changes and Serena feels her stir before she’s carefully tucked even closer against Bernie’s body and a kiss is pressed on her shoulder.

“Good Morning,” Bernie mumbles into her hair, her voice still rough from sleep. Serena finds it fascinating, wouldn’t mind hearing more of it.

“Good Morning to you, too.” She snuggles back into Bernie, pressing her bottom against Bernie’s front to be rewarded with an audible intake of breath. She chuckles softly, her hand already on its way to Bernie’s hip, only to be stopped short by Bernie intertwining their fingers.

“I don’t know what time it is. Do you have to get up? Take care of Jason? Did you have things planned for today?”

“Relax, everything is fine. It’s the second Sunday morning of the month so Jason will already have had breakfast and be at his film club. They do a sci-fi film matinee once a month. We are free to do whatever we want.”

“Whatever we want?” Bernie hums and kisses Serena’s neck whilst her hand wanders towards Serena’s breast.

“You’re insatiable!” Serena chides with a laugh.

“This feels a bit like the pot calling the kettle black,” Bernie whispers into Serena’s ear while her fingers start to circle Serena’s nipple, giving it a short pinch soon after. “I distinctly remember being begged not to stop for quite some time. Not that I wanted to.”

Serena can’t stop a moan as she feels her body respond to Bernie’s ministrations. Suddenly Bernie’s stomach gives a loud rumble and they both dissolve into laughter.

“Okay, how about breakfast first instead? I don’t want to accidentally faint on you.” Bernie asks after she manages to get herself under control again.

“Breakfast sounds like a sensible idea,” Serena agrees, only to turn around and place a kiss on Bernie’s sternum, following with a second and third kiss, making her way down Bernie’s body. “Although I also like the idea of completely wearing you out.”

Serena can clearly see a blush starting to creep up Bernie’s chest, hears her slight cough, as the blonde raises a hand to fondly ruffle her hair a bit.

“I bet you do, but right now I want you to stay in bed while I make us breakfast. Relax and reenergize - you might need it later on.” And with a wink, Bernie practically jumps out of bed, standing stark naked in front of Serena, who leans back into her pillows, letting her eyes roam freely over Bernie’s body.

Bernie blushes and grabs the first clothing item she finds - one of Serena’s dark blue flowing blouses. She throws it on and closes a few of the buttons. She then slips into her panties and takes a step towards the bed, twirling around and laughing as she gets closer.

“Modest enough for breakfast duty?” She asks Serena with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Unfortunately, yes, you are modest enough for breakfast duty,” Serena pouts, making Bernie laugh even more.

“Well, then - breakfast duty it is. My lady, you may await your food soon,” and with an almost perfect bow, Bernie leaves for the kitchen.

“Oh, Bernie,” Serena shouts down the hall, “would you please pick up the paper at the front door? It will be hanging from the knob outside.”

“Sure can do,” Bernie shouts back and Serena can hear her make her way through her home. Suddenly there’s a curious kind of commotion, like people talking loudly, shouting over each other and then Serena can hear her front door crashing close. Silence abruptly falls onto the house once more.

“Bernie?” Serena’s call goes unanswered. She gets up, slips into her robe and hurries downstairs, wondering what has happened. Finds Bernie standing stock-still in the hallway, her face ashen, her eyes locked on her own image in the hallway mirror.

“Bernie?” Serena’s voice is tinged with worry, and she takes a cautious step towards Bernie before she carefully places a hand on her shoulder. Bernie flinches away from her, her face a grimace of shock and anger.

“How? How would they know?” she hisses at Serena.

“Who? Who knows what?” Serena can’t make sense of the sudden changes in Bernie’s behaviour.

“The press of course! How did they know how to find me? Who told them? Who did you tell that I’m here?” Bernie’s voice has a hysterical note to it. She looks down at herself, groans and gestures at Serena’s blouse.

“Look at me! They got pictures of me wearing - this. How can I ever explain what I was doing here, opening the door like this, in the morning? It couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d snogged you right in front of them.”

Serena casts a weary look at her front door, almost expecting some journalists to come bolting through it at any second.

“I didn’t tell anyone, Bernie. You were with me the whole time, remember that? And you look… fine. It’s a blouse, it’s buttoned up. It’s not like you were outside flashing them your boobs or anything like that. They’ll soon get tired of waiting for you and will leave.”

“They won’t! They will camp outside your house for days if necessary. These pictures will bring them money. They will be all over social media in just a few hours and available in print shortly after. Then they will find out that it's you who lives here, write follow up stories, make a connection with pictures already circulating. They’re ruthless. They’ll dig into your past and into Jason’s life…” Bernie blanches, her panicked words coming to an abrupt halt. “It had to be Jason who told them.” She says suddenly, giving Serena a wide eyed look full of hurt. “Why would he do that? Does he need money?” Even though she still feels shell shocked, Serena is sure that Jason wouldn’t do such a thing.

“He’d never!” Suspecting Jason of malicious intent is the last straw. Serena feels helpless and angry, sad and hurt - not just at the journalists outside her front door, but also at Bernie, who seems to be able to deal out accusations left right and centre without a shred of evidence.

“Look, how about we go back to the kitchen and I make us some tea. We can try to come up with a plan to ignore the hyenas in front of the house as best as possible. There’s enough food in the house, we can continue to work on your lines and maybe watch some telly with Jason later on?”

“You think that I’m going to stay?” Bernie scoffs, giving her a baffled look.

“Why… yes? I mean, why wouldn’t you? We didn’t do anything wrong, Bernie. We are two adult women who decided to spend a weekend together. The press can’t have much of a field day about that? This isn’t the eighties anymore.” Serena flinches when she sees Bernie grimace at her words.

“Look, Serena. I thought I could get away from my life for a while, but obviously it didn’t work. We had some fun, but as far as the world is concerned, I am straight.” Serena has her doubts about that but decided to keep silent, let Bernie continue. Hopes that she’ll come to the right conclusion, that she won’t leave because of this. Bernie continues, seemingly oblivious to the hurt she’s causing.

“I think it's best to leave their picture of me as intact as possible. I’ll get my PR team to come up with a story about us being old friends and me using the guest room at your house and hopefully they will believe them and it will be the end of this story.” Bernie sighs and rubs her face.

“I’ll go upstairs, call my driver and get dressed. I’ll be out of your hair in ten minutes.”

Serena feels like Bernie is skewering her with her words, her mind racing to find a way to make Bernie give them a chance. She follows Bernie, who hurriedly retreats back upstairs, watches mutely as Bernie rushes to get dressed and pack her belongings.

It’s Bernie taking her phone and placing a call to whoever will come and pick her up that finally breaks Serena out of her stupor to take what might be their last chance.

“What if I don’t want you to go?”

“That’s not an option, Serena.” Bernie puts her phone into her trouser pocket with a certain finality. “This is all putting too much pressure on us and I can’t have this in my life right now.”

Serena crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe in an attempt to find support.“You mean that you can’t have me in your life right now.” Bernie sighs, hangs her head in defeat and rubs her face.

“Look, Serena… this… us. We are wildly different, you know?” Serena can see the desperation in Bernie’s eyes.

“I’m aware of that, yes.” She just nods and keeps looking at Bernie.

“I’m not good at relationships. I mess things up. I barely got time for myself. Everybody wants a piece of me all the time and now-” Bernie trails off, takes a breath, starts again. “How did the press find me, Serena? How will you feel about me if they keep turning up here again and again? What about Jason? How will he cope? Even if this situation was of his making, I can’t do this to him - or you.”

Bernie grabs her bag and leaves the room without another look at Serena, who dashes after her.

“Bernie - Bernie, please don’t do this. We can find a way.” She tries to take hold of Bernie’s arm but Bernie shakes her off. Serena stops, realising how mad this whole situation is, how they should just calmly talk things through, but it’s too late, Bernie already opened the front door. The press goes wild outside and Serena is left standing there, overwhelmed by the pain of seeing the door close after Bernie.

With a whimper she sinks back against the wall and slides down to the floor. Her eyes are burning, her ears are ringing and she has trouble breathing. She doesn't know how long it takes for her to notice that her mobile is ringing. She drags herself up from the floor with a sigh, hoping against hope that Bernie might have come to her senses, but it’s Jason - apparently calling for the fifth time as he informs her.

“What happened, Auntie Serena? I went back home from the club and there were too many people standing in front of the house. They seem to be waiting for something. Is this about Bernie? If so, could you tell me next time, so I can prepare better. I’m at Alan’s now.” Jason sounds stressed and Serena sighs and tries her best to reassure her nephew.

“Look, dear. It’s about Bernie, yes, but we didn’t know it would happen, so we couldn’t tell you in advance. Do you want to stay at Alan’s for the night or should I pick you up and we can go back to the house together? Safety in numbers, right?”

“I think I will stay, Auntie Serena. I’m feeling quite tired and Alan said we could watch Doctor Who together. Bernie will be there for you, so you will be alright?”

“Actually, Bernie isn’t here anymore, Jason. She - was quite upset about the press being here and she left a while ago.” Serena pauses for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, wondering how to not upset her nephew any further. Does her best to keep her voice carefully light despite her state of mind. “Jason… did you by chance talk to one of the reporters? Or tell anyone else that Bernie was staying here?” Her voice must still carry her distress, her emotions too raw right now to be fully concealed, because Jason doesn’t answer directly as he normally does. When he finally responds, he sounds a bit apprehensive.

“I did tell the others at the club that Bernie was staying with us. We were about to start the film, when we all got talking about other films we might want to watch and I said it would be fun to watch the SciFi one Bernie did, given the fact that she’s staying at ours.” He falls silent again, clearly worried about Serena’s reaction. Serena just sighs. Jason is of course not to blame. The person to blame is the idiot who thought it would be funny to call the press on what Jason said.

“Don’t worry, dear. You didn’t mean wrong and you couldn’t have known that this would happen. It’s alright. Stay at Alan’s tonight and don’t you worry about me, I’ll manage just fine.”

After a few more words of reassurance, they end their call and Serena stands in her kitchen, contemplating what to do next. She feels numb, feels like she’s in a bad dream there’s no waking up from. She shakes her head, she can’t just keep standing around like this.

She fetches a bottle of wine from the pantry and takes it up to her room. Sees the crumpled sheets and with a flash remembers the night before, remembers Bernie naked in her bed, remembers touching her, smelling her, holding her. With a sob she places the bottle of wine on the nightstand, grabs the duvet and tosses it on the floor. She grabs a pillow next and throws it against the wall. With a thunk and a crash, it hits a picture frame and falls to the floor, the frame in pieces just like her. With a wail Serena collapses onto the bed, grabs the remaining pillow and buries her face into it, finally breaking into tears.

Chapter Text

The weeks flow along Portobello Road, dragging winter and spring with them into summer. Neighbour's kids are born, lovers come together and break up again in the middle of Portobello Road Market. The leaves on the trees grow back and turn a vibrant green before silently falling onto the road again - and Serena hardly notices. Life goes on around her, while she feels strangely detached, like an outsider watching the world through a window.

Nevertheless time can help to heal and although it feels even harder this time, Serena once again slowly but steadily comes back from what by now seems to be a rather unfortunate infatuation with Berenice Wolfe. Raf, Fletch, Fleur, Sacha and Morven never stop doing their best to convince her to leave her house and have a life outside her shop and caring for Jason.

Jason, who - after Serena doted on him for weeks to keep her mind off her broken heart - actually tells her that while he appreciates her very much, he is also quite able to lead his own life. “Overbearing” is the word that sticks with Serena the most and she admits to herself that he has got a point, even if he could have tried to cushion his words for once, thank you very much.

Fleur tries her best to help Serena get over Bernie by dragging her through London’s queer scene, but Serena couldn’t be less interested. For her, matters of the heart don’t seem worth prioritising anymore. As far as she is concerned, she pictures herself growing old among her family and friends, because who needs love anyways? It just complicates things.

The journalists vanished soon after Bernie. A few “who’s the mysterious brunette who took Berenice Wolfe in” pieces had been published and for a while journalists turned up at the store. They tried to ask questions, but Morven quickly took care of them and the smart ones didn’t return.

While the press stopped writing articles about Serena, they didn’t stop writing about Bernie. Serena had to deal with the headlines screaming at her from the newsagent stands “Berenice Wolfe off to film in Ukraine” - “Where in the world is Berenice Wolfe? Famous actress about to start secret filming in Africa” - “Explosive outcome at the theatres - Berenice Wolfe’s latest film goes boom in a big way.”. Not to mention all the marketing - posters, trailers, buses with Bernie’s face on them. For a while Serena contemplated moving - maybe to some small village in Cornwall, where she wouldn’t have to see more than one bus an hour and most of her company might be seagulls and sheep. But of course she couldn’t leave London, couldn’t leave Jason and her friends, couldn’t just close her shop.

One evening the friends find themselves back around Raf’s and Fletch’s dining table, although this time their mood is far different from Fleur’s birthday. There’s no food, just drinks and everyone’s attention is on a crestfallen looking Sacha, who’s sitting in the middle of them.

“I’ve seen it coming for a while, but I can’t think of anything that I could have done differently to prevent this outcome.” Sacha just looks resigned to his fate.

“Sometimes you can’t change things, you just have to go with it,” Raf pats Sacha’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“He’s right. Sometimes things are inevitable. You take the blow and just keep standing,” Serena tries her best to reassure Sacha. He looks up at her and nods.

“I know. I mean, I’ve struggled with my job for quite a while now, as you all know.” He receives sympathetic nods all around. “Nevertheless it is a bit of a shock to the system to suddenly be unemployed.” Sacha groans and cradles his face in his hands. Fletch gets up and comes back with a whiskey tumbler. He pushes it into Sacha’s hand with an encouraging nod. Without another word, he gulps it down, coughing a bit at the initial sting.

“You’ll find something new,” Fleur offers encouragingly.

“Of course you will. This just wasn’t right for you. You’ll find a better job, one that suits you way more than the last one,” Serena smiles at Sacha and pats his knee.

“Just don’t go the way Serena went,” Fleur can’t keep herself from giving Serena a stare, “and stop looking for something new that might be better suited.” Serena feels her hackles rise at Fleur’s nagging.

“Honestly, I don’t think this is the right time and place-”

“Well, it never seems to be. You’ve been awfully down in the mouth, you know?” Fleur tuts at her, but also squeezes Serena’s hand to let her know she doesn't mean it maliciously.

“There’s dead people who are in a better form than you,” Fletch shakes his head fondly.

Serena sighs. “I know… and I’m sorry I’ve been so miserable, but I wish to make it clear that I think I’ve finally turned a corner. I’m absolutely over Bernie Wolfe and ready to move on. I’m on my way to being happy for the rest of my life.” Even Sacha perks up a bit at this as everyone goodnaturedly cheers and raises their glasses. With the mood visibly lightened, Fletch opens another bottle of wine and they soon turn to less difficult topics.

Two hours later it’s just Raf and Serena left sitting on the couch, the remnants of the last bottle of wine in their glasses. Raf swirls his glass and smiles.

“You know, I think I’m quite drunk.”

“You and me both” Serena chuckles and lets her head fall back against the sofa.

“And you’ve really laid Bernie Wolfe to rest?” Raf asks, eyebrow raised, as if he almost expects Serena to immediately retract what she said before.

“I think I have.”

“You don’t give a bloody damn about her anymore? Wouldn’t take her back if she came wrapped in a bow?”

“No, wouldn’t.” Serena slurs the words slightly, vigorously shaking her head.

“Which means that you won’t be interested in the fact that she’s back in London and to be found filming most days on Hampstead Heath?” Serena’s head bolts up and she blearily stares at Raf.

“She’s what?” Her voice falters a bit, making Raf shake his head affectionately at her. He turns towards the coffee table for a moment before returning his attention to Serena with a newspaper in his hands. Flips through the pages until he finds what he's looking for and turns the paper around for Serena to see. Dotted amongst the print are some pictures shot with a long lense showing groups of people in historic costumes, horse drawn carriages and lots of filming equipment. The most prominent picture shows Bernie wearing a delicate robe and hat, her hair carefully curled, with a lacy umbrella in her hand. The headline screams “Wolfe back to rule Hampstead Heath” at Serena, who can’t help herself and reaches out to touch Bernie’s face on the page with a sigh.

“So...” To his credit Raf doesn’t sound smug about this, just concerned. "Still not over her, I guess?"

Their eyes meet and Serena suddenly finds she can’t keep her act up any longer. She crumples into his arms and starts crying.

Chapter Text

After a night that had Serena tossing and turning, she sits down at the kitchen table with her laptop and her first cup of coffee. Opens it, stares at the screen. Drinks some more coffee. Stares at the screen again. She knows that she won’t get any of the work done she’d planned for today. Not only does she have a slight headache - that could be taken care of with some meds, but no, of course her mind is fully occupied with Bernie. Again. Over her my ass, comes to Serena’s mind after some more mindless staring at her laptop. Just as she contemplates having a long and maybe helpful scream in the middle of the kitchen, Jason comes down the stairs, regarding her curiously.

“Good Morning, Jason,” Serena tries not to sound too tired, doesn’t want her nephew to worry anymore about her than he already does.

“Morning Auntie Serena. Have you worked for long already? You seem very tired.” He goes on to make himself a cup of tea, but keeps watching her throughout the procedure.

“I’ve actually just started,” Serena grumbles.

“It doesn’t seem like you will get a lot of things done. You are already squinting at your computer. It must have been a long night at Raf and Fletch’s.”

Serena just hums in acknowledgement, rubs her nose and tries to focus back on the screen.

“You should go for a walk. Clear your head and rest your eyes on something different. Maybe along the canal. Or go to a park. Fresh air and the sun will do you good and you can come back to work later on.”

The word park makes Serena perk up. A walk in the park. Hampstead Heath could be classified as a park. It’s green. She could go for a walk there, it wasn’t too far. Clear her head - and if she should accidentally catch sight of Bernie, well, that might help her to finally close this chapter of her life. The thought makes her smile for the first time that day. Serena rigorously closes her laptop and looks up at Jason, standing next to the table.

“You know, I think you’re right, Jason. Some fresh air will do me good. Might clear my head. Thank you for your help.” She gets up to get dressed, leaving her smiling nephew back in the kitchen.

Hampstead Heath seems unchanged, even though she hasn’t been here for years, a decade maybe. Serena walks up the hills, feels better than she thought she would, until the moment she finally reaches Kenwood House and sees the film crew and all the extras milling around behind a barrier that separates the usual visitors to the place from the film work going on.

Her heart picks up speed and for a moment she feels a bit faint, kidding herself by trying to chalk it up to walking up a hill in the sun without enough hydration. She approaches the barrier, her eyes already searching the ground for blond hair. A muscular and unimpressed security guard scrutinises her and she gives him a faint smile. As much as she cranes her neck to see Bernie, she can’t catch sight of her. She takes a few steps along the barrier, aware of being watched and tries to inconspicuously lean over it to get a better look at some caravans standing at one side of the grounds.

“Ma’am - may I help you, ma’am?” the security guard almost makes Serena topple over the barrier. Catching herself she looks up at him, staring at her. With a huff she draws herself up to her full height, squares her shoulders and gives him her special annoying customer stare.

“I’m actually looking for Berenice Wolfe. I’d like to talk to her.” Her sentiment and posture apparently does nothing to smooth him over.

“Does Ms. Wolfe know you are coming?” Serena momentarily deflates a bit.

“No, she doesn’t.”

“I’m afraid Ma’am that I can’t really let you through then.”

“But I’m not a fan of hers.”

The guy raises an eyebrow at that and Serena realises that this probably came out a bit wrong.

“Well, of course I do like her work,” she hurriedly adds, “I mean, who doesn’t, I’m just not a fan - I’m a friend.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, probably wondering if she is a lunatic, which is probably not too far off given her behaviour right now. With a sigh she turns away from him, inwardly saying goodbye to her last chance to meet Bernie again, when suddenly there’s a bit of a commotion at one of the trailers. A young woman has come out, holding the door open for someone following her. Not just anyone, but Bernie, looking extraordinary in a historical costume, her hair carefully done up in an intricate style, a cluster of people around her, talking to her, holding the hem of her dress, helping her make her way towards the set.

A wistful sound escapes Serena and it is like Bernie can hear her, which is of course impossible, but nevertheless she turns around and focuses straight at Serena. Who doesn’t really not know what to do and gives a small wave. There’s no visible reaction on Bernie’s face and for a second Serena thinks that she will just turn back and keep on walking away from her, but then Bernie stops and speaks with the young woman at her side. She nods eagerly and sprints towards Serena.

Suddenly Serena feels nervous, wonders what will happen now. Will she be told to go away? Will she be told to join Bernie? The young woman comes to a standstill in front of her and gives her a brilliant smile.

“Hi, I’m Jasmine. Ms. Wolfe said I should come and pick you up. Her dress isn’t exactly made to walk around the lawn a lot outside of scenes, but you can just follow me and we’ll get you both to the set with a minimal chance of ruining your clothes.”

The young woman stops to take a breath and Serena gaze drops down to her dusty hiking boots. Jasmine follows her gaze and gives a chuckle.

“Well, maybe we will get Ms. Wolfe to the set with her clothes in a clean state.” She gestures towards the security guard, who opens the small gate for Serena and just nods at her.

Serena can’t help herself and gives him a triumphant smile. Which gets decidedly smaller and more nervous the closer she comes to Bernie. Bernie, who is standing there amidst a throng of people talking at her, straightening her clothes, tugging her hair in place, while she watches Serena approaching her.

“Hi,” is about the only thing Serena manages to say, when she’s finally standing in front of her.

Bernie nods and for a moment Serena thinks that she could see a fleeting sign of insecurity, as if Bernie was feeling the same way she does. Then Bernie’s mask is back on and she just silently contemplates Serena again.

“I read that you were back filming and I thought-” Serena stops, because she can’t tell what she thought, doesn’t really know what she’s doing here exactly, and even if she did, she won’t say something out loud amongst all these people. She learned the hard way how Bernie feels about privacy and doesn’t want to take any risks.

“Let’s walk, shall we?” Bernie gives her assistant a nod and shortly after the other people around them start to drop back. For a moment the swishing of Bernie’s dress is the only thing that can be heard.

“This is certainly - ummm…” Bernie begins, but falls silent again without finishing her thought.

“I only found out you were actually working here yesterday,” Serena tries to get a conversation going.

“I thought about calling you… but - I didn’t think you’d have wanted me too.” Bernie gives Serena a look she can’t really decipher. Opens her mouth to say some more, when Jasmine awkwardly clears her throat behind them.

“Ms. Wolfe,” she starts, clearly feeling not too good about interrupting them “I’m really sorry, but we have to -” and she gestures at the film set in front of them. Bernie sighs and gives her a nod.

“It’s not going well and this is our last day.”

Serena suddenly feels guilty for having held up Bernie while she’s working, wonders what exactly she had been expecting by coming here.

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” She gives Bernie a nod, hopes that she would understand that Serena didn’t mean any harm. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Coming here was as far as I got in my plans.” She nervously touches the pendant she’s wearing.

“I realise though that I shouldn’t have interrupted you at work. I’ll just leave you to it.” Serena has almost turned around when Bernie takes hold of her arm, letting go as soon as Serena turns back to her, both of them staring at each other.

“No, please. Please - stay. There are still things to say. If you like to hear me out.” She smiles at her assistant. “Jasmine will take care of you. You could have some orange juice if you want to. Don’t steal any scripts though, they will be missed.” Serena can see the twinkle in Bernie’s eyes, thinks back to the first time they met and decides to stay. Bernie is swept away again, leaving Serena standing there, watching after her, with Jasmine by her side.

“Okay, so how about I set you up with some headphones so you can listen in on the scene? It’s quite a long one, fairly complicated to shoot. Are you a fan of Jane Austen?”

Serena can’t help but stare at Jasmine in pure astonishment.

“This is a Jane Austen film?”

Jasmin just laughs and shakes her head at her, has Serena follow her to a stall where she takes a pair of wireless headphones and gives them to Serena to wear. After some instructions on how to handle the equipment, she’s left sitting on a chair set up in the shadow of a tree, overlooking the whole scene in front of her. Jasmine promises her to be back with something to drink soon and leaves Serena be.

She adjusts the headphones, settles back into the chair and scans the grounds. Her eyes finally settle Bernie walking side by side with another actor, both of them deep in conversation - with their microphones already turned on, because Serena can understand them as clearly as if she was walking with them. Doesn’t want to pry on them, but gets caught up in the both of them apparently talking about her.

“So… are you two-” he pauses mid sentence, wiggling his eyebrows at Bernie.

“Are we what?” Bernie looks up from the script in her hand, clearly irritated by his question.

“Well, there are rumours, you know? About you and Alex Dawson while you filmed that military drama in Afghanistan. And then you got rid of Marcus and ended up at the house of that woman… I don’t remember her name. So, come on - this isn’t the 80s anymore you know. Bisexuality might even earn you more roles - catering to the lesbian audience in addition to the normal one can’t hurt, can it?” He practically leers at Bernie.

“Normal? Ok. Wow... ok… let me set this straight, Guy. That woman is a fan. A very, very avid one. She’s often around when I’m filming in the UK. So I thought I'd indulge her, let her be part of the glamour on set. I don’t know her in the way you just suggested and I won’t deem any rumours about Alex and me worthy of a comment - or your curious notion on what’s normal and what’s not. So please get off my back and let’s concentrate on our lines again, ok?” Bernie's face is like thunder, which he finally seems to notice. He holds his hands up in a gesture of defeat.

“Jeez, don’t rip my head off! At least she’s lovely to look at. Wouldn’t mind getting to know her better if you know what I mean.” Bernie just sighs and shakes her head.

“Of course I wouldn’t try anything if you were opposed to it.”

“You know what - go and see if she will fall for your charms, ok?”

“You really wouldn’t mind?”

“I really won’t.”

“Well, I’d be blind if I let that one slip through my fingers without trying to catch her, but let’s get back to the script for now - about the beginning of the carriage scene…”

Serena sits very still, her eyes fixed on the two figures, slowly making their way along the set, finally talking about the script again. She pulls the headphones off and carefully lays them aside. Takes a deep breath and stands up. Everything she just listened to seems to echo inside her, every single sentence repeated again and again and again in the sudden vastness of her heart. A fan, indeed. An avid one, no less. Trading her off to a co-worker, even. Like an uncherished novel given to the next reader without a second thought.

She feels hollow and numb. Stands up, passes Jasmine on her way off the set. She has a glass of juice in hand and a puzzled look on her face, probably wondering where she’s off to. Where is she even off to? Serena doesn’t know and doesn’t care, she just wants to be gone. Remembers how she felt when she left the hotel months ago. Fool me once, she thinks, suddenly angry with herself, and fool me twice. But thrice? At least she’s pretty sure now that she won’t be fooled for a fourth time by Bernie Wolfe.

Chapter Text

The next day finds Serena at the shop, deeply engrossed in the monthly accounting she unfortunately let slip a bit, when Morven appears at the door, looking nervous.

“Serena?”

For a moment Serena wonders, if it’s her doing, if she behaved so badly during the last months that now her assistant feels afraid of her. She can’t stand the thought and gives Morven an encouraging smile.

“Do you need help? I hope no customer is misbehaving, I’ll sort them out in a minute!” She stands up, ready to have an argument, but Morven just shakes her head and looks over her shoulder into the shop.

“No, no… actually, I think I’d like a coffee. Would you mind me being gone for a few minutes?”

“Oh - no, no, go and get your caffeine! Bring me one back, would you?” Serena goes for her purse, but Morven just nods and is out of Serena’s sight in a few seconds. Her need for coffee must have been quite strong and Serena smiles on her way to the front of the shop. Smiles until she notices Bernie standing there, clasping what seems to be a badly wrapped up rectangle, a nervous look on her face, her whole posture screaming that she might run out of the shop at any minute.

Serena’s smile falters and she stops in her tracks. Looks at Bernie, unsure what to say.

“Hi,” Bernie finally manages to offer.

“Hello Bernie,” Serena’s mind is reeling, her stomach feels like she swallowed a dozen stones. She feels short of breath, doesn’t know if she wants to be angry at Morven for leaving her, but decides that it was probably best for Morven to stay as far away from this as possible.

“You… disappeared,” Bernie gives her a searching look, “I thought - well, I thought you wanted - I thought we were going to talk.”

“And when would that have been? After or before you let your co-star try to sweep me off my feet?” Serena’s tone is acidic, she feels like she might boil over any minute and unleash all her pent up fury. “Jasmine was nice enough to set me up with a headset so I could hear you.”

Bernie’s eyes widen in realisation and a groan leaves her lips.

“Serena, I never intended for you to hear-” Serena just laughs mirthlessly.

“Of course you didn’t. That would have been too sincere, wouldn’t it, Berenice? Telling me what you really think about me? About us?”

“No!” The word leaves Bernie’s lips like a command and Serena falls silent. “No, Serena, no. What I said - what I told Guy - is not what I wanted you to hear, because it’s not - real. It’s just a show, Serena. Not - me. Not the truth about my feelings for you.”

“And how should I know what’s the truth, Bernie? The truth like the night you wanted to take me up to your hotel room? The truth like the morning you just ran away, just left me behind? How would I ever know what’s a truth or a lie with you?”

Bernie’s face falls and her grip on whatever it is she’s holding tightens.

“Look, I think it’s best for you to go now.” Serena sighs, rubs her forehead and starts to turn around to go back into her office.

“Look, no - wait,” Bernie takes a step towards her and Serena pauses, waiting for her to continue.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”

Serena can’t help herself, but gives a low snorting sound at this. Bernie looks hurt, but then her eyes fall back to her hands again.

“I should have just told you…” Bernie falls silent, her fingers picking at the wrinkled paper wrapped around the object, held together by what seems to be two large strips of packaging tape.

“I like you. I more than like you. And now I messed things up. I’ve done the wrong things, I said the wrong things. When I left London the last time, going to work on this awful film in Ukraine, there was only one thing I could think about and that was you, Serena. It still is.”

Serena suddenly feels very tired. Her head hurts and her heart hurts even more.

“So where does that leave us, Bernie? Should we just go back where we left off? That would be me begging you not to leave, but you went off regardless. Even blamed me for all of it.”

“I wanted to commit to you, I did.” Bernie sounds pained.

“You still left.”

“I started to care so much about you. I felt so close to you, even though we haven’t known each other for long. And I’ve destroyed too many friendships in my life or have been destroyed by them. I got scared, I felt like I could see us ending before we really began, because I wouldn’t be brave enough.”

“So instead you decided to just - leave?”

“I know I was rubbish. I’m sorry.” Their eyes lock again and Serena could see the anguish on Bernie’s face.

“What about yesterday? What you said about me. How does this fit into your narrative?”

Bernie gives a short barking laugh and slaps the parcel in her hand against her leg.

“What do you want me to do? He’s the most obnoxious person I ever had as a co-star. He prods and prods and then he goes and blabs to the press to get on their good side. Of course I didn’t tell him the truth about us.”

“Would it have been that bad, Bernie? To let the world know about us? About me? Are you really that afraid to be you? Of course you can’t do that, right? You made that quite clear.”

“Serena…”

“What do you want me to do? What do you want me to be? Your dirty little secret, tucked away in your hotel room? A weekend affair if you decide that you need a break from your glamorous life? Let’s drop by Serena for a fuck and a glimpse at how ordinary people live their life?”

“I’d never-” Bernie gapes at her.

“You’d never what, Bernie?”

“It isn’t just sex,” Bernie pauses, her face a picture of insecurities. “I’d like to be brave.”

“Great to hear, even though pointless. You know, I fought hard with myself, with my family and with everyone else who took an interest in my life. I’ve come to terms with who I am. I won’t hide. I won’t back down for anyone’s sake. I’m bisexual and I am proud of myself for coming to terms with who I am.”

“It’s easy for you to do and say. Maybe because you aren’t completely dependent on public perception. Your job doesn’t depend on your image.” Bernie shrugs and sighs. “I want to change, but I need time, I need to be prepared, the right moment. I can’t just…” She falls silent again, looking defeated.

“You have no idea about the struggles I went through,” Serena says as calmly as possible. “I once lost my job after I came out. I lost it and it hurt. It might not have been a million pounds job, but it was my job and I needed it, or so I thought.” She waits to give Bernie the chance to say something, but continues after a moment of silence. “And then I decided that I actually don’t. I don’t need a job where I can’t be myself. I decided to do my own thing, because I won’t hide who I am, and I won’t hide when I’m in love. I won’t hide who I love. You might always feel unprepared, Bernie, the timing might never feel right.”

They stare at each other across the room. Bernie grimaces and gives Serena a watery smile.

“I’m sorry that I don’t seem to be who you want me to be.”

Serena slowly shakes her head, at a loss on how to talk some sense into Bernie.

“I think you are exactly who I want you to be if you’d let yourself be happy. You said that you don’t really care about the whole public figure part of your job.” Serena raises an eyebrow at Bernie. “You wondered how it would be to step away from it. How to just be Bernie instead of being Berenice Wolfe. I think you would do great at being Bernie.” She can’t help but smile at the thought, then continues. “I’d love to have you be Bernie at my side, but it seems like, in fact, I’m not the one you need me to be. The one you might be brave enough to be yourself for. I hope that you’ll find her someday. Nothing in life is worth hiding from yourself.”

Bernie continues to look at her without saying a word, her face full of regret, and suddenly Serena just feels resigned, resigned to letting Bernie go, resigned to their ways parting for the last time.

“I think it’s better for you to go now.” Serena steels herself, crosses her arms. Feels like she is lying to herself, but also knows that she can’t keep herself hidden away, can’t just be friends with benefits, not even if it is with Berenice Wolfe.

Who just shortly nods, a look of defeat on her face.

“Look, this…” and Bernie puts the wrapped rectangle she’s been holding the whole time down on the tile, “is a gift from me to you. I thought of you when I found it and I want you to have it.”

“Bernie…” Serena eyes the gift warily.

“I know that at the end I’m just a woman standing in front of another woman, asking - asking for something I can’t even find the right words for apparently.” Bernie lets out a frustrated huff. “I’ll go, don’t worry. Thanks for being this honest with me, you gave me a lot to think about. Open it later. I hope you’ll like it. Take care of yourself, Serena.”

Bernie gives her a pained smile and turns to leave the shop. For a moment Serena feels trapped between possibilities - should she stop her? Should she let her go? Could they try to find a way? But then the moment shatters with the closing of the door and before Serena comes out of her stupor, Bernie has vanished from her sight and all that is left is her gift.

Chapter Text

The next day everyone is back in Serena’s kitchen again. It’s like the morning she came down for coffee - Raf, Fletch, Sacha, and Jason standing around her kitchen, only this time it had been Serena calling her friends to her side for support.

Even though Fleur has yet to arrive, Serena had already been urged to describe yesterday’s events in more detail than her message saying “Bernie came to apologise and bring me a gift. Need reassurance. Meet at mine for coffee tomorrow?” had.

She is still feeling conflicted, out of sync with herself and the whole situation. There’s a silence hanging over all of them now, nothing at all like the lively discussion they had the last time. Jason is frowning at his mobile, Raf and Fletch carefully seem to take note of every emotion Serena might display, while Sacha looks downtrodden, eyes on his feet.

Serena just stands there, still as a statue, eyes fixed on the book lying on her kitchen table, on top of a heap of wrapping paper. It’s clearly old, beautifully bound, with artistic engravings on its back.

The ringing of the doorbell breaks them out of their daze, Raf returning moments later with a clearly elevated Fleur, a big grin on her face.

“So the Wolfe came back to you and even brought you a present on top of apologising! Lucky you, I knew you were made for each other despite all the shenanigans you went through!”

Raf, Fletch and Sacha all start to make some noncommittal noises, while Serena just buries her face in her hands with a groan. Maybe her message hadn’t been clear enough on the outcome of Bernie’s surprise visit.

“What?” Fleur seems utterly confused. “Why are you all behaving like we’re about to attend a funeral?”

“Serena turned her down,” Raf says, his voice carefully neutral.

“She did WHAT?” Fleur's jaw drops and she whips around to face Serena.

“She turned her down,” Fletch repeats, “and that’s a good decision.” The last part he says with determination.

“Logical decision,” Raf adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Probably for the best.” Fleur just stares at them.

“Logical, you say? It’s the most daft thing I’ve ever heard!” She turns back to Serena, shaking her head at her.

“Look, you’ve been pining after her for ages now. I know that Bernie made a lot of mistakes, but we also know that the reason for them was her own insecurity and her being used to living her life closeted for decades. Also - you can’t let her go. It’s Bernie this and Bernie that. Now she came back to you, now she finally seems to have come to her senses, you turned her down? Why - what did she say?”

“I think the book really is a first edition, Auntie Serena,” Jason interrupts before Serena can answer, looking up from his mobile, “and the signature seems genuine. Bernie must have gone through some trouble to find it.”

Serena steps towards the table, her fingers softly brushing along the spine of the book, her face a full on show of conflicting emotions.

“She didn’t really say anything awful, you know, but she also didn’t sound like she was truly ready to commit.”

Fleur makes an encouraging sound, obviously keen on Serena continuing.

“She said she needed more time, and that she’d like to be brave, and-” Fleur apparently heard enough.

“So there’s this woman, who’s hidden herself for most of her life, who had some really bad experiences with her life being aired in the public, and what - you want her to like, parade in front of Pride tomorrow?”

“No!” Serena gives Fleur a sour look. “No, of course not.”

“Why did you brush her off then? If time is all she needs? I’m not saying you should just forgive and forget. Or marry her next Sunday - but what about giving the two of you some time? Talk things through, see if there’s a way you can both be happy with each other?”

“I… I don’t know. It all seemed too hopeless, our lives way too different.”

“Could it be that you’re struggling with seeing yourself happy?”

Serena sharply looks up at Fleur, but her friend is decidedly unimpressed.

“You, Serena Campbell, are allowed to be happy. I guess we can all agree on that.”

Sympathetic murmurs fill the room.

“Which means that we’ll now have to find a way to get you to the point of happiness - in other words: to the hotel Bernie is staying at. It has to be the Ritz again, right?”

Serena looks at her friend in total amazement. Fleur tuts at her, and turns around to Raf, who almost seems to be standing at attention.

“Raf, get your car keys, we are going for a drive! We clearly can’t be bothered with the tube now.” Fleur turns back towards Serena, mustering her.

“Serena, darling, go and get changed. Not that you don’t look lovely, but now isn’t the time to impress by understating things.”

Somehow Fleur is clearly in command now, everyone kind of relieved for her to take charge. Sacha, who had felt like he - as a full on romantic at heart - had been forced to stay silent so far, visibly perks up, giving Fleur a thumbs up behind Fletch’s back.

Serena follows Fleur’s advice and leaves the kitchen to go change. She is already feeling lighter, although nervous anticipation starts to creep up on her now. In her heart of hearts she knows that Fleur is right, that her decision had been justified, but not right.

In no time at all they are on their way, cramped into Raf’s car, only Sacha and Jason staying behind, both begging off the idea of riding in the boot of the car.

Chapter Text

They battle London traffic at its worst until they finally arrive at The Ritz, only to be redirected to their banquet hall after going through another list of possible aliases Bernie could have used.

“Ms. Bramwell is currently giving an impromptu press conference,” the receptionist finally concedes, making Serena whoop with delight upon finding the right alias.

The hall is full of people, cameras and microphones everywhere. Given the fact that Bernie isn’t normally too keen on public appearances, this is clearly something special and there’s an excited buzz in the air, while questions are being asked and answered.

Bernie sits between Ric and the woman that mistook Serena for a journalist, with Ric firmly marshalling the questions that are being thrown at Bernie. Serena steps into the room, all nervous energy and no plan of action, and leans against a wall, catching her breath and carefully watching the scene in front of her.

She doesn’t know how long this will take or if she’ll even get a chance to talk to Bernie before she leaves this room, but now that she made up her mind and made it here, she’s determined to try everything possible. Suddenly a question makes her pay more attention.

“Trent Crimm, The Independent,” a man with quite impressive grey shoulder length hair says, giving Bernie a calculating look through equally impressive black framed glasses.

“Ms. Wolfe, is there a specific reason why you won’t take on any new projects for the foreseeable future?”

“I decided that I need some time off, take a step back and concentrate more on my private life for now,” Bernie’s voice is sure and even.

“Does this mean that you are going to reconcile with Marcus Dunn?” The Sun’s reporter eagerly shouts into the room.

“No, I’m not,” Bernie suppresses a laugh, clearly indicating how far off this question was. “I wish Marcus all the best in his life, but he and I were never really suited for each other, so there would be no sense in reconciliation.”

“So is there a new man in your life you want to spend time with?” He won’t stop his line of inquiry, his colleagues already rolling their eyes at him.

Ric is about to wave him off, when Bernie squeezes his arm and gives him a nod, apparently for once willing to answer one more question about her private life.

“I’d like to say more on this topic. Actually, this could be said to be the reason we’re all here today.” Serena sees Bernie take a deep breath, sees her straightening up in her chair. A curious feeling of apprehension bubbles up in her stomach.

“No, there isn’t a new man in my life and it’s unlikely that there ever will be one again.” Curious murmurs and a few raised eyebrows follow Bernie’s statement.

“No, I’m not contemplating joining a convent if that’s your next question.” Bernie addresses the reporter from The Sun, and he just shrugs his shoulders, taking the ridicule from his colleagues like he’s used to it.

“You see, I recently had a talk with a good friend that made me think a lot about my life and how I want it to be. Until now, I sheltered myself as much as I could, well, as much as you all let me.” Bernie smiles wriley at the reporters, some of them looking rather ruefully, others just grinning at her.

Serena goes very still at her words, eyes wide, an anticipatory smile forming on her lips.

“I thought that if I didn't let on to who I really am, if I’d hid myself enough behind my roles and public appearances, I couldn’t be hurt and in that process I actually hurt people I really cared about. Also, isn’t it said that we should be the change that we want to see?” Bernie leans back in her chair, suddenly seemingly at ease with the situation.

“So, coming back to a new man in my life: No, there isn’t one. I was actually hoping that there would be a new woman in my life, but she felt that I wasn’t brave enough, which I have to say, was totally justified.” The room almost falls silent, people watching each other with curious looks, trying to find out if they heard right, if Bernie really said “woman”. Bernie ignores them, takes another breath and continues.

“Because, honestly, how can I ask her to spend her life with me by her side, when I’m not even able to admit that I’m in love with her. That I - Berenice Wolfe - am, in fact, and have always been, a lesbian.”

Where there was silence, there’s now dozens of sounds, with questions being rapidly shouted at Bernie, pictures being taken from every angle and the odd low whistle and encouraging whooping sound, the loudest sound of bafflement seemingly coming from Serena.

While she’s incredibly happy for Bernie finally standing up for herself, her heart soaring towards her, she’s also astonished by this turn of events, wonders about this sudden - and very public - change of mind. Unexpectedly their eyes meet - Bernie’s scanning the room for reactions and Serena’s gaze has been firmly fixed on her since she stepped into the room. A silent “Oh.” seems to escape Bernie’s lips. Suddenly inspired about what to do, Serena raises her hand as if to ask a question.

Bernie looks confused for a second, but then nudges Ric and nods towards Serena.

“The woman in the red blouse, would you please ask your question?” he promptly addresses Serena.

“Ms. Wolfe, is this press conference a plan to win the woman back that turned you down?”

“Ha!” Bernie can’t hold back a short laugh. “No, it actually isn’t. While she made me think about what I actually want and her courage and fierceness are definitely inspiring, this is about me.” Bernie takes a moment, a contemplative look on her face. “Although I would be very happy if she’d reconsider her decision.”

“I see,” Serena says, trying her best to let her voice carry through the room. “And-”

“Sorry, it’s actually just one question per person,” Ric interrupts her, before Bernie can hold him back.

“No, please,” she addresses Serena directly, “go on. You were saying?”

Serena takes another breath and tries to forget about everyone else in the room.

“Would you say that you are rather brave in doing this today?”

“I guess I am, yes.” Bernie’s gaze is unwavering, her face almost unreadable, but Serena almost feels the energy boiling behind her facade.

“So I’d say that the reason the woman decided to turn you down no longer exists. She also realised by now that she might have put too much pressure on you and should have taken more time to talk to you about what you both wanted.”

“Is there a question in this?” another reporter yells across the room, only to be elbowed in the ribs by the woman next to him.

Bernie’s eyes stay firmly set on Serena, her smile tentative, although Serena is able to guess at how nervous they both must be. This was rather unconventional, after all.

“We should have talked more, I agree,” Bernie says, “but maybe there’s another chance to do so?”

“How about tonight? Well, it’s actually fish and chips night, but we should be able to make an exception again - for a good cause.”

“I’ll happily join you for fish and chips night, if you’ll have me.”

Several snorts can be heard over the mentioned fish and chips, accompanied by headshakes, but they are shushed by others who are faster to catch on to what is actually happening right in front of them.

“I couldn’t imagine anything better - 7pm my place then.”

Bernie's smile widens even more, her feelings for Serena clearly written on face for everyone to see.

“I’ll be there,” she says while the sounds in the room rising up again, even the slowest person finally realising what they are witnessing, the hooting sounds and encouraging claps drowning out any further questions that are being asked.

It hadn’t been easy to leave the room. While Bernie was being escorted through a backdoor by Ric when the whole interview came to an unexpected end, Serena found herself confronted with the press - a situation she wasn’t used to. Luckily for her, Jasmin came to her rescue, making way for them through the journalists, her hand keeping a firm grip on Serena’s elbow until they end up in front of yet another hotel room door.

“Wow,” she grins at Serena, shaking her head a bit, “that was quite the show you two gave.”

“I - I didn’t intend to.” Serena still felt a bit shell shocked, unsure on how to process all of what had happened.

“I bet you didn’t, but I’m sure Ms. Wolfe was absolutely ready to finally come out and I think that’s just marvellous. I’m so happy for the both of you!” She gives a funny kind of squealing sound and spontaneously hugs Serena, who doesn’t really know how to react.

“Anyway - let’s not keep you any longer.” She lets go of Serena and gently shoves her towards the door. “Go on in, she’s probably wondering where you are. I leave you be - I’m sure I’ll see you around.” With a small wave, Jasmin turns and vanishes around a corner, leaving Serena standing in front of the door.

A door that suddenly opens, Bernie standing on the other side, her face lighting up when she sees Serena.

“Serena.” Her relief is noticeable, her posture immediately less rigid. She takes Serena’s hand and pulls her into the room, closing the door behind them.

Chapter Text

It’s early summer in London. The pretty communal garden in the North of London is filled with blossoming plants, bird song and people enjoying the sun.

There’s a park bench underneath a blooming tree, and on that bench Serena is lying, her head propped up on a pillow, her legs slung over Bernie’s lap, who’s sitting next to her, a book in hand.

Serena’s eyes are closed while she listens to Bernie reading to her - a Swedish children’s book of all things. It's something she's never heard about before, but apparently it’s dear to Bernie, who does a wonderful job at voicing all the different characters.

They decided to move here after being together for a year. As much as they liked Serena’s house with the blue door, with three of them often spending time there, it became rather cramped. Now the house is Jason’s, who is in the midst of starting his own family, with a girlfriend and soon a child of his own.

Of course Serena still has to go to work from time to time, still owns her bookshop. It had been a bit mad at the beginning, with people coming to the shop solely in the hopes of catching a glimpse or some gossip about Bernie, but they soon enough stopped when it became clear that this wasn’t going to happen. Nevertheless the shop became wider known this way, finally making enough money to allow Serena to employ Morven as a full time manager with her own part time assistant now, which suits them both.

Serena likes spending more time at home, more time with Bernie. Their home is one they are building together every day - discussions and decisions included.

Bernie isn’t really used to being at home for longer times, but she loves it. She’s not yet accepted another script, even though the offers never stop. Serena is pretty sure that she will come back to it one day. Instead she's turned to voice work for now, which Serena highly appreciates, because Bernie has to practise and this is how they usually end up on their bench or their couch, cuddled up together while Bernie reads and reads to her.

Bernie stops reading and intertwines their fingers, her thumb rubbing along Serena’s. Serena opens her eyes, shielding them from the sun with her other hand. Bernie’s smile is almost as dazzling as the sun and instantly makes her smile back.

She’s content, happy, in love - they both are - and couldn’t think of a better place to be, a better way to live their lives and continue their story that began in a bookshop in Notting Hill.

The End.