'What is this?'

Serena picked up a leaflet from a stack on the reception table. She silently read the contents, snorting with scorn as she held it by the tips of her fingers.

'Dunno, someone dropped them off this morning.' Bernie was finishing her second pain au chocolate of the day, licking crumbs from her mouth absentmindedly.

'The symptoms of love, what is this rubbish? Have you read this?'

Bernie cast a glance at the pile.

'Didn't bother when I saw the pink hearts.' She slurped her coffee and looked back at the dreaded reports.

'Well I know the symptoms of love when I see it and some of this is rubbish. Dilated pupils? Who the hell notices dilated pupils when they've got a rush of euphoria coming their way? Nobody thinks 'oh gosh, those pupils are so dilated, they must really be into me.' She snorted with derision. 'Who cares about where your feet are pointing or where your bag is when your heart rate soars so high you have to prop yourself against the bar to stay upright?'

Bernie turned back to her with raised eyebrows.

'You do know all about love.'

'Disastrously as it happens. But I do. This stuff should be binned. As should this ridiculous writing. What is this, fanfiction? Can we ban this word please? So overdone.'

Bernie grabbed one and scanned it. She agreed. People overused the word quirk.

'Well how about we bin it and you can write a new one and distribute it to the lonely hearts of Holby?'

'Don't have time for that. But if I did, don't show it to Ric. He's convinced that everything is a sign of love.'

'He should know. Which wife was he on last?'

'Five. That should have taught him something, but no. Love makes fools out of all of us.'

'Get that in there.'

'I'm not writing it, you dipstick. Write your own Mills & Boon.'

'Well I'm hardly the poster girl for romance.'

'You should do a test with Ric. Try and focus on your dilating pupils and see how that works for you.'

They snorted with laughter, tipped the whole lot into the recycling bin and reluctantly got back to work. Those reports weren't going to write themselves.