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“Bernie?”
Bernie smiled, leaning forward to drop her cup onto the coffee table, swivelling around on the sofa. “In here. How’d it go?”
“It was a nightmare,” Serena said and Bernie could hear the shuffling sounds of her scarf, hat and coat being removed. “They'd already sold out in three of the shops, couldn't even find any out the back at Tesco and then I almost lost an eye to a delightful woman’s elbow in Game.”
“But you got it?”
“Despite the woman’s best shot, yes I did.”
Rubbing her hands together, Bernie grinned at the doorway. “Well done you. There's coffee in the pot, or mulled wine on the hob.”
“Oh you do know how to treat a -- oof!”
Jumping up at the thud and jingle of bells, Bernie hurried out into the hall, socked feet skidding against the hardwood. “Serena?”
Serena raised a hand from the floor, waving it before pressing it back palm down and pushing herself up. “I’m okay. Tripped on something.” Settling back on her knees she looked around, Bernie following her gaze as it fell on a line of red and white striped string stretching from the banister to the radiator cover, with a cluster of bells from the tree hooked on one end. The obvious cause of her fall.
“Bernie, love. Care to explain why you've booby-trapped the hall?”
Bernie blinked, eyes dropping to the floor as she scuffed at it with her toes, before bringing her gaze back up again to meet Serena's. “Mikey’s here.”
“Right. And that is relevant how?”
“We uh, we watched Home Alone earlier. It was on and-”
Serena raised a hand again. “Say no more. I'll just be grateful it wasn't a brick to the face shall I?”
Tipping her hand palm up, Serena wiggled her fingers. “Help me up.”
Tugging Serena upright, Bernie kept hold of her hand, tangling their fingers together. “I only left him alone while I cooked dinner, he had half the house rigged up before I caught him.”
“He's a Fletcher. Can't take your eye off them for 10 minutes.” Serena reached down with her free hand to rub at her knee, wincing a little.
“You sure you're alright? I thought I'd found all the traps.”
“Fine.” Serena smiled, squeezing Bernie's fingers. “Nothing a glass of mulled wine and a massage later won't fix.”
“Come on then. Let's get you a glass and then later, I promise I'll take very good care of that knee.” Turning, Bernie spotted the Game bag, flung out across the hall. Bending down she scooped it up as they passed, dropping it onto the kitchen table.
“Thanks again for this. I can't believe I forgot it.”
Serena snorted, sitting herself at the table while Bernie pulled a glass down from the cupboard. “I can, the size of that list you had.”
“It wasn't that big.”
“Father Christmas has a smaller list, Bernie.”
Steam rose from the saucepan as Bernie lifted it, a waft of hot spiced air escaping. “You're one to talk; don't think I haven't noticed how many parcels we've had delivered here the last few weeks. All those boxes you've squirreled away in the spare room.” Filling the glass with a few ladles of wine, Bernie turned around.
“Been snooping, have we?” Serena accepted the full glass with a grateful smile, bringing it up to her nose first and inhaling the scent.
“I was looking for batteries, and it's hardly snooping when you can't even open the door the whole way with all those boxes stacked up.”
Serena hummed around the lip of her glass. “You better not have.”
Leaning down, Bernie nuzzled into Serena's hair, pressing her lips to her temple. “I wouldn't. I know how much you enjoy surprising me.”
“Least I can do.” Serena tipped her head back, giving Bernie more access for her wandering lips. “After all, you're so very good at disguising the shapes of your gifts.”
“Was that a dig at my wrapping, Ms Campbell?”
“Not at all, Ms Wolfe. You know I do love a mystery.” Cupping her neck, Bernie tilted Serena's face towards her, smiling even as she pressed their lips together. “Mmm, where is our little Kevin now?”
“Jason’s room, they've just started the sequel.”
“Oh goody.”
Bernie smirked against Serena's lips, reaching out to pinch at her waist. “I'm sure Mikey will be asleep before the end.”
Serena pulled back, turning to brush their cheeks together. “Or they'll both be up all night and we'll wake up to something out of Rambo.”
“I'll protect you.”
“Tell that to my knee.”
Bernie dropped a hand to rub at the joint. “Poor thing. How about that massage then?”
“My hero.”
“Auntie Serena, do we have any duct tape?”
Serena groaned, dropping her head to Bernie's chest. “This is your fault.”
Stroking her back, Bernie winced at the stomping feet making their way down the stairs. “Sorry. Next time I'll stick with The Santa Clause.”
“Next time? Let's see if we survive tonight first, Major.” Serena said, standing up as Jason and Mikey entered the kitchen.
“Auntie Serena-”
“Third drawer by the sink Jason. Mikey, be a dear and untie the string from the stairs before you set up any more traps.”
Leaning against the table, Bernie watched with a smirk as Serena got the boys moving, following them back into the hallway with warnings and requests that they not do anything too dangerous this time. “Bernie! I think you've a promise to keep to my knee.”
Bernie jumped, picking up Serena’s wine and moving quickly out into the hallway, stepping over a crouching Mikey as she followed Serena up the stairs.
“Do you think it's safe to leave them to their own devices?” She asked, hearing the rip of tape from Jason's room as they passed by his closed door.
Serena held open their bedroom door for her, leaning against the frame as she ushered her in, stealing the wine glass from Bernie's hand. “Oh I’m sure you'll defuse any threats before I get down there tomorrow. Big macho army medic that you are.”
“Wonderful.” Bernie muttered, “How many Home Alone sequels are there?”
“Two too many.” Serena smirked and clicked the door shut. “And Jason has all of them.”