Bernie Wolfe made a lot of mistakes. Not at work. No, there she knew what she was doing, was able to think on her feet and was skilled in her execution. Her personal life, however, was a different matter.

Her disastrous efforts in that arena were what currently had her skulking about the office she shared with a certain Serena Campbell at six in the morning, well before her or the brunette's shifts were due to start.

Yes, it may be wise to not pursue this further, but wise had only led to a sleepless night, a few too many shots of whisky and to confirm just how wrongly she had read things, a two AM call from the woman who had occupied her thoughts before and since their kiss. She had answered, only for a few seconds of silence to hang between them, neither daring to speak before Serena had ended the call.

Bernie wasn't the only one not sleeping then. She had let the phone drop to the sheets beside her, and tried to convince herself that Serena hadn't meant to call. Even that she had accidentally called her instead. An image of the other woman's face came unbidden to her mind, however, when she had tried to do the right things; giving Serena space and the chance to run in their office.

She knew her well enough to be able to read her at least a little by now, and it hadn't been relief or fear on her face that night. It had been disappointment. Bernie had thought back over that evening so many times. How had she missed the hitching of her friend's voice, the pleading look in her eyes, the despair written all over her face as Bernie had retreated to her own desk?

She stepped back, surveying the items she had carefully placed on the brunette's desk. Two tickets to Mamma Mia, a bottle of 'Muddle & Mash' cocktail strawberry daiquiri mixer and accompanying miniature of vodka (just in case there was a cause to celebrate or sorrows to be drowned), and of course, her letter. The letter over which she had spent the best part of six hours and destroyed half a rainforest writing.

She hoped that in leaving the gift on the other woman's desk, if she had once again made a wrong move, the items could easily be swept aside into the waiting bin and never even have to be mentioned. Or, and she dearly hoped for this, Serena might forgive her foolish forays into trying to do the adult, responsible thing and she would get to spend the evening with the woman she…so greatly admired and cared for deeply.

Serena slipped into the office, breathing a sigh of relief when she found it unoccupied. If she thought things had been awkward before, she had no idea how she was even meant to breathe in the same room as Bernie now. How did one act around their best friend after having realised she was both the cause of your greatest sexual revelation to date and the woman you were in love with?

Dumping her bag by her desk, she threw herself into her chair, hands massaging her temples, eyes closed. Her shift hadn't even started and she already had a headache. Letting out a long slow breath, she wheeled herself forward, finally opening her eyes.

That was when she realised her desk had not only been tidied, but that additions had been made to it. Automatically reaching for the small bottles first, she read the labels before putting them to the side, letting her fingers dance over her name written on the envelope which had been tucked beneath. She knew the elegant looped script intimately. Bernie.

With shaking hands, she opened the envelope, removing the folded paper inside. She gazed down at the two theatre tickets that fell to the desk as she unfolded the letter before returning her eyes to the page itself, drinking in the stream of consciousness that filled the page.

Serena,

I'm sorry. I'm not good at these things; you've seen enough to know that. But I want to be better. I need to be better, because I can't lose you. I will do anything in my power to keep you in my life, in whatever capacity you're willing to have me.

I put a distance between us because I thought it was the 'wise' thing to do. Both of us know wisdom isn't exactly my strong suit.

You said I terrified you. Please know that was never my intention. If it's any consolation, however, you should know that I'm terrified too.

I said we should keep things confined to theatre. I didn't say which theatre. So, inside this envelope are two tickets. What happens with them is up to you. You can ignore they exist, mix yourself a drink, call it a breakfast smoothie and forget all about them, or perhaps, we can use them, as friends, or to see what happens when we confine things to a different theatre and muddle through from there?

There, I've said my bit, perhaps even said more than I should. Now it's your turn. I promise not to interrupt this time.

B x

Serena hastily wiped the tears that had gathered in her eyes. Damn that impossible woman.

Bernie stood hunched over at the nurses' station, eyes glued to her office door. She had watched Serena enter, and now waited with baited breath for her to exit.

"Bernie?" Raf waited a few moments before repeating her name, more loudly this time.

The blonde jumped, startled out of her reverie.

"Are you okay?" asked the Scotsman, taking in her rapid breathing and paler than usual complexion.

"Yes, fine," lied Bernie. "You wanted something?"

Not believing the blonde for a moment, but not wanting to pry, he let it slide. "Patient in bed 8, you mind taking a look and giving me a second opinion?"

Serena hovered as quietly and patiently as she could behind the blonde as she carried out her assessment. She simply smiled at Raf when he aimed a questioning look at her from the other side of the bed. As Bernie wrapped things up, confirming her thoughts on Raf's diagnoses, the brunette stepped forward.

"Ms. Wolfe, could I have a moment?" Her words caused the woman to physically jump. It seemed to take an eternity for the blonde to turn around. And when she did, her eyes were wide with fright.

Reaching out, she took hold of the blonde's wrist, leading her into the recently vacated bay next to them and pulling the curtains closed. Standing before her, the sounds of the busy ward around her faded away. "There's something…" She took a deep breath and tried again. "There are a lot of things I should have said last night." She paused. And a few things I shouldn't have let you say." She took the blonde's hands in her own. "You assumed because I was terrified that I wanted to run away from this. From us. And what I thought I needed was space." She shook her head. "I don't need space. I need you. I need my best friend. I need…" She trailed off, words failing her. "Oh to hell with it…" she muttered under her breath before dropping the blonde's hands and wrapping her arms around her neck, pulling the slightly taller woman in for a lingering kiss. Pulling back, she couldn't keep the grin from her face. "For the record, I'm kissing you because I want to. Again."

Trembling, Bernie found a matching grin spreading across her own features. "You really want this?"

"I want there to be an us," breathed Serena, nodding. "Whatever that makes me, I don't care. And I don't want to keep things confined to theatre. Any theatre. I want you, everywhere, and any which way you'll have me."

The blonde let her hands slide around the curve of the brunette's waist, linking at the small of her back as she tugged her closer. "Then I'm all yours." She leant in for another kiss, revelling in the feeling of Serena meeting her halfway, and mirroring every tiny movement of her lips, every slight tilt of her head. Finally pulling back, but only enough to lean their foreheads together, Bernie smiled softly at the breathless wonder before her. "Since we're not keeping things confined to theatre, I don't suppose you'd let me do this properly and take you to dinner before the show?"

"Take a chance on me and I'll let you take me anywhere."