Author's Note: My headcanon about the incident that drew Alex and Bernie together is explored a little further in my first fic 'Battle Lines.' I may one day choose to elaborate further, depending on what happens with Bernie in the rest of the series.


Bernie carefully rolled over in bed and allowed the hot tears to fall down her face and into the pillow underneath her. Her neck was still stiff and sore, but she'd needed a change of position from staring at the ceiling. Besides, there was something comforting about being wrapped cocoon-like in the duvet and curled into herself. The tightening in her chest had nothing to do with her recent surgery and everything to do with her turbulent emotional state. On reflection she knew that she hadn't had sufficient time to deal with the accident, her condition and subsequent surgery and then lastly there had been the break up with Alex. The latter was what had been playing on her mind the most since she'd arrived home.

Home.

Funny word that, with an even stranger meaning for her at the moment. She's lived a nomadic existence for the last twenty years or so and this house has been the base she always comes back to. But it doesn't feel like home, nothing does really and Bernie isn't entirely sure what that's supposed to feel like.

They say that home is where the heart is, but she's not even sure where that lies these days either. It's definitely not with Marcus, hasn't been for some time, and she's strangely not that sad about it. He's a good bloke, but terribly needy and probably ought to have one of those doting wives who'll bring him his pipe and slippers with a large glass of brandy at the end of a long working day. She'd be young, of course, possibly voluptuous and she'd almost certainly require a knight in shining armour to get the car started on a frosty morning or to fix a leaking tap in the bathroom. Not that Marcus is any good at that stuff either, but aforementioned damsel in distress probably wouldn't care that much.

Bernie has always been self-sufficient, had to be after losing one parent as a child and the other in her early twenties. She's always been taught that she can't rely on someone else to support her, to bail her out or fall back on. So, throughout her life, she's done everything herself and although not a front line soldier, she could make a decent apprentice car mechanic or plumber. She even knows her way around a set of power tools, if it came to it. Despite her outward appearance, Bernie is a strong woman, both mentally and physically, and more than capable of handling herself. However, therein lies the rub. A human being can only sustain so much for so long before they break and front line medicine can crack even the toughest of shells.

It's not Marcus's fault that Alex just happened to be in the right place at the right time to catch Bernie when she fell. Even if he had have been interested or attentive or just capable of empathising on a professional level, it might have been something. But he'd been none of those things so Bernie had internalised it all. She really hadn't been looking for an affair, and Alex was certainly a surprise to her system when it had eventually happened.

Alex lived through the experience of being a frontline medic every day and instinctively felt what Bernie felt. She saw what she'd been through and had been right by her side when the worst had happened. It hadn't been the absolute worst the Major had seen in her career, just the one that had resonated the most. And then when that tough exterior had fractured it had been temporarily held in place by Alex's cool, calm control and sticking plaster words of encouragement until they could take refuge, away from their comrades. Alex had instantly ripped away her temporary fix and let her superior shatter completely, and Bernie's wound had been left gaping and raw. However, by hitting rock bottom they both then found their way back up together and as those wounds began to heal, something new and hopeful grew between them.


And now here she was; sobbing, broken-hearted in a bed with unfamiliar sheets in an unfamiliar room. She'd disagreed with Marcus on the way home from the hospital; he'd wanted her to take their room but she'd insisted on the annexe. She'd argued that it was on the ground level with an en suite which would help while she still wasn't fully mobile. However, they both knew that it was really about allowing her some privacy and freedom to please herself. If Marcus was under the illusion that their marriage was back on track, he was even more clueless than Bernie had given him credit for. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that it was unfair and unkind to think that way but right at this moment she had more pressing concerns.

Bernie had accepted this leave of absence, or period of convalescence, in order to have a chance of finding and speaking to Alex face to face. The younger woman had apparently declined her own extended commission and come back to the UK, despite their previous plans to the contrary. Bernie knew that Alex lived in Bristol, not that far from here, which would be perfect for orchestrating an opportunity to meet up and talk things through.

One thing Bernie knew from a lifetime experience of having to be strong for everyone around her, was that emotional issues were easier to step away from rather than deal with them and she suspected this was what had got Alex running scared. It had to be, otherwise the alternative didn't bear thinking about; that she'd been wrong and Alex really had meant to break it off with her. For two years their relationship had developed and evolved into something balanced, fulfilling, stimulating and the sex had been better than Bernie had imagined it could be.

It was slowly beginning to dawn on her what she wanted, what made her happy and what she might have to do to get there. In the coming weeks she'd probably have to play the long game, so she treated it like a mission. Bernie Wolfe against the world; just as it had always been.