Put an ocean and a river
Between everything, yourself, and home
The National

AN: So this is one of those works I was shaky on during writing and I'm a firm believer of Henry Miller's adage, "If you can't make words fuck, don't masturbate them!". About half-way though writing this, spilled_notes posted their glorious 'oh, you're in my veins', which is everything I've ever wanted this fic to be. If you haven't already, please devour it as soon as possible. So I'm not certain why I'm posting it other than it seemed a waste not to.

"So, you think you, what you're gay?" Raf asks, eyes sparkling with humour.
"Weren't you listening?"
"Of course I was Serena, except I... well I didn't quite hear what the problem was."
"I knew I shouldn't have said anything!" She sighs, pushing up off the desk they were sitting on in her office. It wasn't always like this, was it? There was some normalcy to her life, a steady (if not a little boring) routine. She was happy in her life, and if not happy, content. Comfortable. This was madness. Everything in her life was madness since Bernie Wolfe entered it.

"No! No! Come back here, come back, come back!" He pleads, tugging on her arm as he laughs. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He apologies as she settles back beside him, visibly upset. "It's just... ok, so, maybe you're just... play for both sides? You know, like a double agent?"
"This isn't the bloody Cold War, Raf."
"I know, what... what I'm trying to get is, what is upsetting you about this? It never seemed to bother you before when people thought you were gay."
"Of course not. But it wasn't true then, was it?" She asks. "Unless they saw something I didn't see. And if I couldn't see it, how could they?" She sighs, struggling to find the words. "It's different when it might be true. When all those people, all those rumours…"
"Ok, this is getting a little heavy. Let's start with the basics."
"Which is?"
"Have you kissed a girl?"
"Yes." She responds, matter of fact.
"And did you like it?"
"Yes."
"Well look at you Katy Perry." He teases, nudging her with his shoulder. "Ok, well have you kissed a man?" She shoots him a look. "Ok, well did you like it?"
"Yes. I mean, I did. Do I still? I don't know."
"Well, only one way to find out." He grins.
"What? No!"
"Yes! Purely in the name of science, of course."
"Science. Of course." Serena laughs. But there's something in the way he's grinning at her. "Oh my god, you're serious aren't you?"
"Of course I am. I don't offer to kiss all my colleagues, despite what you all say about me - don't think I don't know about the gossip, hmmmm… I'm kind of like a hero, you know." He's still smiling, a roguish gleam in his eye as he cocks his head towards her, and for some reason, she can't help herself - on the other side of this kiss lies her answer.

And so she leans into his kiss.

It's purely for science, she tells herself as their lips connect. It's not bad, as far as a snog between friends goes. It does everything it's supposed to, their lips press against each other and part... and then they both burst out in peals of laughter. "Ugh - this is beyond exasperating, I am entirely too old for this, Raf. That's it. I'm packing it in. Giving it all up. Address me as Sister Mary Serena, if anyone needs me, I'll be found at the nearest convent."
"You? What about me? I'll be known as the man who turned Serena Campbell gay! Mankind will mourn the loss of such a vibrant, vivacious-"
"You forgot sexy!"
"I was getting to that! Sexy woman. But what is Man's loss is Woman's gain!" He concludes his impromptu toast. "To Serena Campbell," he holds up an imaginary glass, "Whatever she may be."
"Here, here!" Serena cheers, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. It had been so long since she'd laughed like that. In fact, she was hard pressed to recall the last time she laughed, period. She used to laugh with Bernie all the time, and now... well, perhaps they were right (whoever 'they' happened to be), sex does indeed ruin everything. Just the mere possibility of sex, the whiff of it and their friendship seemed to go out the window, replaced with some sort of awful imposter.

"Did it help with anything?" Raf asks, noticing his friend's mood lighten.
"Honestly?" Her face relaxes from the wide smile, "Not really. It's not you. Honestly. You're just not…" Serena's heart skips at the thought…
"Her?" He asks, his eyes move towards the blonde doctor walking past the windows towards the office door.
"You're entirely too clever for your own good, has anyone told you that before?" She asks, busying herself with getting up from the desk and burying her attentions in some already completed paperwork as Bernie enters.
"Serena Campbell thinks I'm clever. You heard that, didn't you, Dr. Wolfe?"
"Sorry, what?" The other woman asks, distracted as she's moving about the room, gathering her items.
"Never mind. I'll see you both later." He heads out of the room, careful to close the door behind him.

Serena stands at her desk, watching the blonde whirl around her from the periphery of her vision, pretending to be engrossed in the latest efficiency reports. The energy in the room is charged - it always is lately, but this is different - it's not quite hostile, but it's…different. No longer playful, electric. This is somewhat aggressive. "You're here late." Serena finally murmurs, not raising her eyes from the papers in her hand. "Hanssen asked to see me. Have you seen my hoody?"
"No. What did Henrik want?
"Sure you haven't seen it? It was here, I know it was." The pile of miscellany on Bernie's desk grows.
"Well I'm not hiding it from you." She absentmindedly snaps as she gathers the courage to look at the other woman, but something is wrong. Bernie is practically shaking, her skin pale, eyes glassy, her mood snappish. "You alright?"
"Yes. No." Bernie bends to check the drawers of her desk and then slams them in frustrations. "I will be when I find this damned thing."
"It'll turn up - it's probably in the locker room, or at your flat. Bernie -" Serena rounds the tables between them, "You don't look like you're alright." In fact, she looks like the complete opposite - seeing her like this reminds her of that night, that kiss. "I'm fine, Serena. Why this sudden preoccupation with my appearance?" She tries to smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Because it's a very nice appearance, Bernie." Serena takes a deep breath, screwing up every ounce of strength and British resolve. "Can we talk?"
"Now?" Bernie asks, sorting through the contents of her desk.
"Yes, now. We…we haven't spoken in a while. What are you doing?" She reaches out a hand to still Bernie's actions.
"We've been busy?" She offers up unconvincingly, ignoring the question.
"Have we though? Really? Because the Bernie I know, the Bernie I'm … fond of -"
"Serena, please -"
"Please," Serena tightens her grasp for a moment on Bernie's hand before releasing it. "I need - I just need to get this out now because if I don't get this out now, I don't know when and if I keep this in any more I just may burst. I know you said to put that behind us, and I tried. I really, really did. But I don't want to. I don't think I can." She laughs suddenly, loudly to herself or at herself, rolling her eyes skyward. She wonders when she got this close to Bernie - were they always standing so close? "All I can think about is when can I kiss you again."

With this off her chest, she can finally look at Bernie, truly look at her. She looks magnificent in her hunter green blouse unbuttoned just enough to tease her with a glimpse of skin she's aching to touch. Her hair is down and unruly and she truly loves when it's like this - it makes her want to reach out and run her fingers through the strands, to clutch them like she had done once before. It had been so…soft. Soft was not a word she would have ever associated with Berenice Wolfe, but my god, was she soft, from her hair to her voice to her eyes and her lips… Her lips. Serena was hard pressed to try to remember the last time a kiss was so… delicious. "I'm so sorry, Bernie." She whispers, her heart jack-hammering in her ears, her eyes fixated on the other woman's mouth. She doesn't know why she's apologising. Is it because she's waited so long? Because she can no longer help herself? Because she doesn't know what she wants other than the woman before her? Her mind is screaming at her to stop, her heart is beating out of her chest, and all she knows is she wants the other woman so badly she can only lurch forward as if being pulled by some unseen force, some tendril of desire. They are so close, inches away from one another - but Bernie doesn't move and Serena knows if she wants this, she's going to have to be the one to act. And she wants it, she wants her so badly. So she closes her eyes and closes the distance between them, crashing their mouths together. It's inelegant, yes, but it's all she can muster right now. Serena clutches handfuls of the silky fabric of Bernie's shirt but something is wrong.

Something is so, so wrong.

Bernie is standing stock still, her hands balled to her side, her lips unmoving. Oh god, oh god, oh god! How could she have gotten things so wrong? Every nerve in Serena's body kicks into action and she practically jumps away from the other woman, realizing this is completely unwanted and unwarranted. "I am, so, so sorry Bernie. I just…"
"It's fine, Serena. Really." Bernie drops her eye and grabs her satchel, stuffing it with all of her belongings.
"What… What are you doing with all your things?"
"I'm packing."
"Packing? Why? Where are you off to? Oh my god - is this because I kissed you back? Or again?"
"No, not at all. Although, maybe we should both learn to read the room a little better eh?" The blonde mutters, closing up her bag. She begins to sift through the file folders on her desk, but gives up, "You'll sort them out better than I can anyways," She tosses the files back on the desk and grabs her coat.
"Wait, where are you off to?" Serena's belly clenches in fear watching the other woman. No matter the outcome of her disastrous and humiliating kiss, she can't bear the thought of her… counterpart leaving her.
"I've been seconded."
"Is that all?" Serena laughs with relief, "I thought it was serious. You terrified me. Where to?"
"The Ukraine."
"I'm sorry, what?" Serena could've sworn Bernie said the Ukraine. As in the country currently in the midst of a civil war. Clearly this was getting to her. It must be. There's no way Bernie said -
"Kiev, to be specific."
"Just like that? No." She shakes her head, laughing in an effort to calm herself, "No…."
"Not just like that. They've asked before. I've said no."
"Then what changed?" She dreads hearing the answer, already knowing that no matter what Bernie says, it's because of her. It's because of them and it's because of what has or has not happened between them.
"I don't know." Bernie shrugs as slings her bag over her shoulder, as she grabs her coat from the rack. She tries to leave the room, but Serena has blocked her path.
"For how long?"
"One never knows with these things." She tries to move to the door, but is barred once again by a determined Serena.
"Why are you being like this Bernie? Like it's nothing?"
"It's not nothing Serena. It is what it is. Not…not all of us are a bundle of emotions. Some of us just get on with what needs to be done."
"Bernie, please…" She feels the barb deep in her belly, but for the life of her, can't understand why the other woman is hurting her like this. Hasn't she done everything that Bernie needed and asked for? Didn't she forgive her for her lies and infidelity? Didn't she listen to every word about her divorce, her children? Didn't she do everything in her power to make her laugh, make her smile, make her happy? Didn't she kiss her? Didn't she re-evaluate the whole of her existence to make room for Bernie? Wasn't that enough? Judging by the look on her face - impartial and indifferent - it's clearly not. Why was it never enough? Why was she never enough?

Serena's so distracted that it takes a moment to realise Bernie has side-stepped her and made her way out of their office and into the hall so she follows a half-step behind. "When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow."
"And you don't know for how long?"
"No." Bernie rounds the corner and picks up her pace Serena is left scrambling to catch up behind her.
"I could come and see you?" She can hear the desperation in her voice as she clutches Bernie. She can't help herself.
"No."
"We can meet halfway?" She begs. She hasn't begged since Edward. She doesn't know who she's become reduced to - she only knows she has to do everything she can to keep Bernie from leaving Holby. From leaving her. "Stop. Please!" Bernie shakes the other woman's hands off of her as she turns and all but runs away from the prying eyes of everyone.

For two women who value their privacy, somehow this has managed to become all too much, too public, too exposed. Bernie pushes through the doors of the stairwell and takes the stairs down double-time, forcing her muscles to move, to try to match the pain she feels inside. It once would've broken her to see Serena Campbell beg. She once would've been unable to refuse the other woman anything in her power to give her. She once would've given anything to have the opportunity to kiss her, hold her, touch her and taste her. God, Bernie thinks, bursting through the doors of the hospital and into the cool, night air, how she had loved that woman once.

Fuck the car, and fuck this city, and fuck this hospital and Hanssen and Serena Campbell and sleep and the tears streaming down her face.

She would walk the eight kilometres home.