To let this love survive would be the greatest gift we could give - Emily Saliers

Serena schmoozes Hanssen into letting her and Bernie have three consecutive days off together, so they each pack a small bag, throw them into the tiny boot of the MX5 and head out into the country.

They don't have a destination in mind, they're content just to be together on the road, travelling randomly down winding country lanes, stopping at pubs and cafes, parking in side streets in county towns and walking together along the pavements, looking in the windows of antique shops and little boutiques and twee little souvenir shops selling tea towels and snow globes and keyrings.

The weather is cold but crisp, the sky a shade paler than standard AAU scrubs, with wisps of white cloud high in the atmosphere. Bernie remarks, haltingly, that it was colder in Kiev. Serena replies that it had been pretty cold in England too that whole time, feels Bernie begin to pull away, squeezes her hand to keep her close.

She's forgiven her, she really has, but that little impulse to snap back, to wound, to get her miniscule revenge; that impulse still rears its ugly little head sometimes. When they stop for the night, unable to find anywhere nicer than a Premier Inn to lay their heads, Serena silently apologises with her lips and hands on Bernie's pale skin.

She'd somehow expected Bernie to be smooth and soft, but she's covered in scars both big and small. Serena knows, of course, why Bernie came to Holby in the first place, knows to expect a line on her chest denoting heart surgery, can see the results of Guy Self's neck surgery every day. What she doesn't expect are all the rest: scars both ancient and recent, large and small, red and pale. She presses a kiss to every one, breathlessly, reverently, feeling her new lover squirm under her patient caresses.

She'd never imagined their first time together would take place in a budget hotel room, with no romantic build up or candles or all the other accoutrements of seduction. But as she feels Bernie shudder in her arms, she thinks that this is actually perfect; realises that anywhere would probably perfect because she is perfect.

Bernie cries afterwards, her breath coming in deep, shuddering sobs as Serena holds her tightly against her chest. She kisses her temple, whispers endearments, soothes as best she can, and thinks that she'll never see the worst of Bernie's scars, because she keeps them inside.

After that she doesn't feel that instinct to hurt again. Instead she is affection itself, taking every opportunity to touch, to hold, to caress. They get the occasional second glance but Serena can't bring herself to care. She will when they go home, she thinks; she's worked too long and too hard to earn respect and her formidable reputation to enjoy the inevitable gossip that's heading their way. Still, for now she is content to let her actions shout to the world that Bernie is hers; that they are each other's, at long last.

The days pass quickly and the nights even quicker. They don't get a lot of sleep but Serena's never felt less tired in her life. She feels elated, exhilarated, like there's a bubble of happiness inside her that just keeps growing, pressing on her skin from the inside.

Before either of them is really ready, it's time to go back. They're scheduled to be on shift together the next day and it'll be a hard one; the first shift after a break always is. Bernie carries Serena's bag to the car, ever the gentleman, and Serena rewards her with a kiss when the other woman climbs into the driver's seat.

Serena holds Bernie's left hand in her right as she drives, lets her other hand drift out of the car window, riding the waves of air as they whip along the country road, heading back towards Holby and the real world. She breathes deeply through her nose and notices there's no tightness in her chest, no anxiety souring her gut for the first time in months. They're okay now, she thinks, she and Bernie. Here and now, in this moment, they're okay. And for a little while, she allows herself to believe there's nothing that can hurt her, nothing she can't face, with this woman by her side.

It's a lie, of course. But a beautiful one.