This is nearly better than sex. Serena Campbell was splayed out, starfish-like on the sunlounger, arms outstretched and palms facing upwards, as if she was attempting to catch every last drop of sun.
The heatwave that had washed over Holby, and the rest of Britain, had parched Serena's lawn such as it was beginning to give way to patches of dark yellow strands of once lush grass. The hosepipe ban that had been imposed earlier in the week had caused Serena some distress: unable to water her lawn and flowers, her garden was looking a little worse for wear.
But right now, in this moment, Serena could not care less.
A little table stood by Serena's sunlounger, supporting a mason jar filled with a sweet, citrus smelling liquid - an attempt at homemade lemonade - with a stripy straw peeping from the contents. Droplets of water had begun to form around the outside of the jar, giving it the appearance of having been wrapped in bubble wrap.
Serena herself, ever the sun worshipper, had taken the chance of some time soaking up the rays with relish. She sported her white and red polka dot bikini - a strapless little number so as to avoid the tan lines. Her head was propped up by a small pillow as she reclined, and large winged sunglasses concealed her half-lidded eyes as she sighed in contentment.
Yes. Better than sex.
A small movement caught Serena's eye, and she lifted her sunglasses from her eyes onto the top of her head, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
Framed perfectly by the back door, Serena gasped at the sight that was laid out before her. There, in all her glory, stood her partner, in a tiny light blue halter neck bikini.
I take that back. When Bernie's involved, nothing is better than sex…
Bernie Wolfe dumped her keys on the stand as she levered the front door shut with her trailing leg. A briefcase in one hand and an empty takeaway frappé cup in the other, she sighed in relief to be out of the heat of the day.
She'd been sweltering on the ward; fans had been strategically placed to try and alleviate some of the patients' discomfort, but unfortunately the office that Bernie and Serena shared hadn't received the same treatment. I avoid paperwork at the best of times, never mind when I'm sweating uncontrollably!
She felt that a cool shower was in order, to wash away the day's labours, and to refocus her energies for her partner.
Bernie made her way to the kitchen, wanting to quench her thirst that had been particularly insatiable in the heat. As she opened the fridge to grab the flask of cold water, she noticed a large jug, filled with ice and a cloudy liquid. She sniffed. Lemonade. Hmm. She took the jug of cool liquid and poured herself a glass, savouring the sugary, bitter taste and the cooling effect it seemed to have on her stomach.
As she took another sip she glanced up and out of the window.
What a sight.
There, on the lawn, spread out on a sunlounger and wearing the most outrageous polka dot bikini that Bernie had ever seen, was Serena.
A goddess. Serena's skin had took on a faint glow from its contact with the sun, giving her a celestial air. Bernie's eyes raked down the other woman's body with fervour, enjoying how the bikini accentuated Serena's curves. She imagined her hands smoothing over that skin, and maybe even dipping below the fabric.
Jesus.
It was this thought that triggered Bernie's brain into forward march. Her years in the Army meant that a plan of action was quickly formulated in Bernie's mind.
She left the remaining lemonade on the counter and shoved the jug back into the fridge, slamming the door shut. Bernie streaked through the house, taking the stairs two at a time, and flew into their bedroom, ripping her clothes from her body, whilst simultaneously rifling through her draws.
Where the fuck is it?!
Panic started to fill her head, as she pictured the scene she had witnessed in the garden moments ago, and feared missing out on Serena's sun-kissed form. She looked as if she was in utter bliss, and Bernie wanted to share, or even be a part of it.
Aha!
Bernie pulled out a light blue string from the depths of her underwear draw. What followed was a light blue, halter neck bikini. She threw on the bikini, taking her time to tie the string properly at the nape of her neck.
Don't want to reveal the goods too early!
She regarded herself in the mirror one last time before heading downstairs. She hated showing too much skin, but somehow, this felt different - like she was putting on a show.
Once again she took to the stairs with speed, skipping every second step and racing to the back door.
She's still there. Thank god!
She tugged open the door, and momentarily stood, watching her partner soak up the rays.
Serena's head turned towards the movement, a brow quirked as she raised her sunglasses from her eyes.
'Ding, Dong,' drawled Serena, as her eyes made their way from Bernie's now bare feet, pausing at her chest, and came to rest on her eyes.
Bernie smiled shyly, and made her way over to her lover, perfect bliss reflected back by each other's eyes.
'I've been sweltering all day,' started Bernie, as she strolled towards Serena across the dry grass, and sunk to her knees next to the lounger, 'But nothing's made me as hot as when I saw you there in that bikini…' Her sentence trailed off flirtatiously.
'Very smooth, Wolfe.' Quipped Serena. 'But I'm afraid I'm starting to overheat myself. I've been in the sun for far too long, and I feel rather more uncomfortable now that you've arrived in that.' Serena stared appreciatively at the legs revealed by the little light blue bikini.
'Maybe you could…?' Serena elongated the end of the phrase, as if she was searching for the right words for her proposition. 'Maybe you could… alleviate my discomfort.' This was less of a question and more of a statement.
Bernie gaped at the woman before her, astounded at her less than subtle approach.
'Well… I… I…' Bernie stammered.
'Shhh...' Serena placed a finger to the blonde's lips, instantly silencing her. Bernie had an almost petrified look on her face, and she gulped, wide-eyed and quivering.
'Now Major,' Serena's voice took on a newly authoritative tone. Bernie whimpered. 'You are to follow me upstairs. But you must wait. 5 minutes precisely. Any less, I will wear this bikini for the rest of the evening, and you won't be allowed to touch me.' Bernie's breath was starting to come more quickly. 'Any more, I am sure I will find a way to alleviate my discomfort all on my own. And I will make you watch…'
At this, Serena sashayed away, her hips swaying so invitingly that Bernie's jaw gaped as her eyes followed her into the house.
Shit.
She was in for one hell of a night.