Shiraz and Silence

Four times Serena chose to drink and the one time she didn't.

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A/N:

This is my first Holby City fiction. I'm not as well versed in the HC world as some people are, so if there are mistakes or things that aren't quite canon, I completely own those errors.

I own nothing, all of these characters are the property of BBC.

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One.

People get used to the smell of hospitals. Certainly those that work there everyday become acquainted with the smell of antiseptic and alcohol, the smell of the scrubs and the rubber soles of the workers. But not Serena. No, she didn't think she'd ever become accustomed to the smell of Holby.

Everyday it was as if it was the first. She wasn't anxious the way she used to be coming into work, scared she'd do something wrong and get reprimanded. She had become adjusted to the usual ebb and flow of the hospital, the trauma unit.

But it was different since Bernie arrived. Maybe it was the newness of having another woman around, maybe it was those flirtatious glances she kept throwing her way. Serena felt herself anticipating each day on the ward as if it was new again, as it if were her first time being here.

She didn't know how Bernie's presence truly made her feel.

And when they were in the office together—dear Lord, she couldn't even concentrate. She'd place her fingers over the keyboard, ready to type in the reports for the day, and she'd just go blank. She couldn't think, couldn't work with Bernie in the room.

She smelled like fresh soap and clean linen, the blue of her scrubs bringing out the color of her eyes. The smell of Bernie's latte only added to the delicious bouquet—No, Serena definitely couldn't concentrate with Bernie in the room.

When she'd finally get called onto the ward, Serena could feel herself exhaling with relief yet aching for more. It was as if she couldn't get satisfied—she wanted her there, yet wanted her gone at the same time. Her brain couldn't wrap around this dialectic.

Treating patients was almost like a welcome relief after the tension in the office. Serena wondered if Bernie could feel it too, or if it was, at the end of the day, all in Serena's head. Bernie had been quiet these last couple of weeks, not saying much more than a passing "Hello," and Serena hadn't been able to muster much of a response either.

Finally, on Friday, Serena felt herself being able to get some work done. It had been a terribly long week, lots of patients in and out of the trauma unit, but Bernie had been busy too and away from the office. Serena felt that the distance had allowed her to think a little more clearly, and with Bernie completely out of sight all day on Friday, she felt herself get into the groove of filling out paperwork, most of which had been piling up throughout the week.

Serena moved through the stack of folders on her desk with methodical attachment. Now that she was able to concentrate, she remembered how easy it was to get lost in the many forms and files that required her attention. She didn't have to think, she could cut her brain off for a second and just type away.

After a few hours, she craned her neck this way and that to relieve some pressure, even though some doctors still say that popping one's neck isn't necessarily a smart or wise thing to do, and her eyes glanced at the clock. To her surprise, it was already long past time for her to leave, in fact, she'd technically been off for three hours.

Deciding to finish up what she had left, Serena shifted in her seat and committed herself to the last few files. Only an hour or so more of work, and she'd be free for the weekend.

At around ten o'clock, Serena closed the last of her files. Shutting down her computer, she eased herself off of the chair and made her way to the coat rack, where she donned her favorite red winter coat. Grabbing her bag, she placed her various pens and papers in their appropriate place and cut out the lamplight.

Serena had just made it to the elevator when she heard someone clearing their throat behind her. Much to her surprise, it was Bernie.

"You're here rather late aren't you?" Serena quipped.

Bernie gave a small laugh. "Could say the same thing for you."

"Touché," Serena smirked.

The elevator arrived and both women climbed aboard. There was an awkward silence between them. Both of them tried to break it at once, "So," "Well then."

"You first, Bernie."

"Ok," she shuffled her feet nervously. "Any plans after work? It is Friday, anyway."

"I don't," Serena immediately said, then regretted it. "Wait, I mean, I think I should get home to Jason. He didn't expect me out so late, and I'm frankly surprised he hasn't texted yet."

"Oh," Bernie said, slightly embarrassed. "Right, Jason, I forgot about him, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, no, it's fine."

The elevator arrived at the bottom floor.

"Actually," Serena said. "Let me see if he's still awake. If I don't get a response from him, perhaps I can join you."

Bernie smiled widely. "Great, that'd… that'd be great, Serena."

Pulling out her phone, Serena checked through her messages to find Jason's.

Hello, Jason, Sorry I was at the office late. Are you still awake? Do I need to come home?

Bernie had moved towards the side of the building and was having a smoke. Serena couldn't help but think that she looked downright sexy with her hair blowing just so in the wind.

Her phone chimed.

Hi Auntie Serena. I'm going to bed. If you come home late, please be quiet. I am rather tired. See you in the morning.

"Looks like I'm off the hook!" Serena said. "Your car or mine?"

Bernie stubbed out her cigarette. "Yours, if you don't mind, mine's kind of a mess right now, I'd be embarrassed for you to see it."

"Suit yourself. Where to?"

"There's a little pub across town that I rather like, it's kind of quiet there. And they have a good wine list," Bernie smirked.

Serena laughed. "You know me better than I thought!"

The two made their way towards Serena's car, and Serena felt herself grow excited at the prospect of sharing an even tighter space with Bernie. As if the office wasn't bad enough, now they'd be here in the car together.

She slid into her seat and threw her bag to the bag of the car. Bernie climbed in and settled into the seat, not an easy feat with her long legs.

"Where to, Major?"

"Just come out of the parking lot there, go down a couple miles until you come to a four-way, take a right, and it should be just there on the left."

Serena laughed. "Okay, why don't you just tell me when to turn, I'm too tired to remember all of that!"

"Fine," Bernie said. To Serena's shock, she placed a hand a top of Serena's.

"How are you? Really? It's really good to see you, to be able to spend time with you, like this, you know."

Serena smiled back. "I'm fine, really. Thank you, Bernie."

She struggled to keep her eyes on the road ahead.

"You have just seemed so distant recently. I was starting to think I'd done something wrong."

"Oh, no, nothing of the sorts. Just have stuff on my mind, that's all. Nothing for you to worry yourself over, promise."

"But you'd tell me if it was?"

Serena glanced over and was surprised at how concerned Bernie's face truly appeared to be. She lowered her voice and tried to sound sincere. "Promise."

Bernie nodded. "This turn here, then that parking lot over there."

"Right-o."

The car bumped over the driveway and Serena pulled the car into a spot.

"Excellent driving, Ms. Campbell."

Serena smirked. "Why thank you, I do try my best."

The pub was dimly lit, and it was decorated with modern art pieces. Some of them looked fairly abstract, but Serena found them rather pleasing and interesting.

"Two, please," Bernie said to the small waitress.

"This way," she said, and led the couple towards a table in the back next to a rather large striped painting.

"I've thought about buying this painting," Bernie said. "No where to put it, though."

"Are you an art collector?" Serena asked.

"Goodness, no, I just liked the way this one looked, reminded me of a sunrise a bit, the way the colors fade."

Serena looked at it, and turned her head this way and that, as if to get a full sense of the piece.

"Yes I can see that, now that you mentioned it. I have to admit, I'm not really one for art work."

Bernie handed her a leather folder with the wine list.

"I'll let you pick the bottle."

"By the bottle, Ms. Wolfe! My kind of gal," she smiled.

The list was extensive, but Serena's eyes instantly went to the red section, then to the Shiraz.

"This one will do."

The waiter came back by and took their orders. Serena felt herself growing slightly uncomfortable again. It was hard to look at Bernie this close—she was a striking woman to say the least.

"So," Bernie began. "Are you going to that conference next month?"

"Conference?"

"The one in London? We got an email about it yesterday."

"We did?" Serena asked. "Let me check." She whipped out her phone and tapped her way over to her emails. "Oh here it is, let me read it."

As she was flipping through, the waiter came back with their bottles. Bernie took Serena's glass, filled it, and handed it back to the brunette.

"Thank you love. Let's see. It seems that it's mostly about oncology things, but there are a couple interesting looking seminars about trauma and surgery. Could be worth going to. What about you?"

Bernie took a sip of her wine. "Holy shit, this is amazing! You certainly can pick them, can't you," she grinned.

"Thank you, I rather like this one when I can find it."

"I can see why! And erm, well, I was waiting to see if you were going to go before I decided."

"Why's that?"

Bernie blushed. "I figured we could go together and maybe share a room," she quickly added, "to save money, of course."

Serena took a huge gulp of wine. She was having trouble sitting next to the woman—how on earth was she going to do a road trip and a hotel stay with her as well? But she wanted to agree, because spending more time with Bernie seemed like the greatest offer she'd had in a while.

"I'll think about it and let you know. It depends on Jason, and if we can find someone to cover our shifts," she said.

Bernie looked crestfallen. "Oh, right."

This time, Serena placed her hand on Bernie's. "But thank you for the offer, really, I do appreciate it."

"Sure," Bernie smiled, and gave Serena's hand a gentle squeeze. "So what kept you up at the office so late?"

Serena laughed. "Oh, paperwork, endless paperwork! I couldn't concentrate at all this week!"

"No, why's that?"

"Oh," Serena hesitated. "Well I was distracted, I suppose."

"Distracted? By what?"

Serena blushed. "By you."

"So I have done something wrong," Bernie said in a small voice.

"No! No, nothing wrong, it's just that," Serena hesitated. "I don't know how to feel around you," she admitted.

"What do you mean?" Bernie looked concerned.

"It's just that—you make me feel something that I haven't felt in a long time," Serena said. She took another gulp of her wine for courage. "It's just that I think about you a lot more than I think I should and it makes me feel… I don't know what… but it makes me unable to concentrate on my paperwork to say the least," she said.

Bernie gave a small smile. "I think about you a lot too, Serena."

"Then let's just leave it at that, shall we?" Serena said. "We think about each other."

"And occasionally distract each other from work," she smiled.

"Cheers," Serena lifted her glass.

"Cheers."

Serena smiled and finished off her glass of wine, and Bernie graciously poured her another.

The two stayed for another hour, talking about work, their colleagues, Jason. It was an easy conversation, now that the ice was broken. Serena felt good that at least the awkwardness had been addressed, and that maybe they could move forward, though what moving forward meant exactly, she didn't quite know.

Afterwards, she dropped Bernie back off at her car. Before exiting, Bernie leaned over and kissed Serena ever so lightly on the cheek.

"I had a great time," she whispered.

Serena smiled back, "Me too."

The two stared at each other for a long moment, then Bernie finally withdrew. Serena could still feel her kiss on her cheek long after she was gone. She pulled her car out of the parking lot and headed towards home, knowing that despite herself, she wished Bernie could come home, too.

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