A/N: inspiration struck after tonight's episode. I'm pretty sure this won't have happened/ever happen but I would have liked it to ;) so, I hope you like this Bernie/Alex piece!
Soulmates
"But there's something I have to do at home."
The whiskey sloshed in the crystal tumblr, a generous shot of scotch. She watched, absorbed by the tiny droplets of liquor splashing in the glass, caused by her trembling hand. Her other hand was propped against the counter, steadying herself.
Bernie needed that whirl of spirit. Perhaps it was for preparation. Or maybe to pacify the nerves twisting her stomach into knots. A combination of both was probably most accurate. In a single swig, she downed the scotch; swallowing slowly, it trickled down her throat and generated a prolonged trail of burning sensation.
Not that she cared, she deserved some pain subsequently to all the hurt she had induced to someone so innocent and honest. All because of her fears, her principles, her like to stick to rules and ethics.
Rules were meant to be broken.
With her head raised, she sucked in a sharp breath and raked a hand through her hair one final time before pacing into the living room. Dark eyes blinked, savouring the memories of her marriage and grown up children. It wasn't her forte. And she wanted out. Out was a necessarity, the blonde needed to pluck up that bravery and courage. For once, she had to do what was right.
"We need to talk." Her manner was blunt and frosty, standing somewhat awkwardly. Direct.
Those were the words dreaded in any relationship scenario. And Marcus's stomach plummeted, breath hitching in his throat.
"I want out. I can't do this anymore, Marcus." Bernie battled the quaver threatening to submerge her tone, "I can't keep living a lie. This isn't love. Maybe it was once, a long twenty-five years ago, but it isn't now."
Twenty-five years was an extensive length of time. A lifetime if trapped incorrectly. It wasn't that she didn't feel anything; she just no longer felt the spark that maintained an ignited flame, Alex had taught her what love truly felt like. Different. The emotions were a twister; lust, yearn, a unique and treasured bond. Best friends. Soulmates.
"Is that your way of saying you're having an affair?" An assumption. His voice was gruff, a sudden tension and bitterness.
The medic twitched her shoulders, "The kids are grown up, they don't need me anymore to be a nurturing mother. Well, I was never that. Things have changed. I've tried. Playing happy families just isn't satisfying. It isn't healthy. I was naive to think that I'd return and it would be the same, but I was in Afghanistan for a long time."
"Not as much of a fool as I was." It was bland, "Do I know them? God, how didn't I see this coming!"
"It's no one you know. But, she makes me feel amazing." She was quickly learning; it all started with being truthful to yourself. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I really am. I have to do what's right, though. Right for me, and, in the long run, right for everybody. The only thing I'm ashamed of is the hurt I have inflicted around me."
Marcus scoffed, "What? And that's you trying to reverse it?"
Bernie caressed her throbbing temples, "I'm trying. I can't ignore, nor change, how I feel. I'm sorry. You may consider it selfish, but I'd rather leave one broken heart than two. Goodbye, Marcus." Briskly, she pirouetted and marched out of the room, snatching just her jacket and bag on the way out through the door, allowing it to slam with a clatter.
Their battered relationship would heal with time. However, time was not something she had with Alex. It was a rush, and a race against time to attempt to fix things with the woman's heart she had unintentionally crushed with her mercenary.
It had been harder than anticipated. Though, one stress was gratefully elevated from her shoulders.
She took a taxi, encouraging the driver to stamp harshly on the accelerator. Then, she dashed on foot, the heels of her boots pounding against the pavements. But, finally, Bernie reached the location of her fellow army medic. It was now or never, she had to put this mess right. A flat; rented, of course. Tentatively, with an anxious edge, she tapped on the door.
Her heart clenched at the sight of the brunette, her lover had evidently been crying - red, puffy eyes with smudged dark make up. The fear of rejection was prominent. A bottle of scotch lay on the counter, lid discarded, and some contents gone.
"Alex, I know you don't want to see me but just listen please. I'm so sorry." The vulnerability was naked in the blonde's voice, stripped of security. "I ended it. I do love you, very much so. But I was too scared to step permanently out of what I knew; my comfort zone. I'm fully committed now, and regretting how long it's taken me to come to my senses."
The anesthetist stepped back, allowing her former colleague access to her home, out of the swirling chill of winds, "Bern, you broke my heart once. I'm sorry..I can't - I don't want to go through that agony again."
"I'm not going to do that again, I promise. I'm not here to cause you pain."
"Don't make promises you can't guarantee you can keep. You don't know that you won't hurt me again." Alex's voice was a wavering whisper, fragile and sad.
"I have no intentions of hurting you, then." She rephrased delicately, "I meant what I said, though. I'm completely devoted to you. I want this. I want us." The distance between the females closed, the blonde tenderly extending her arm, clasping her own hand around her lover's. Without a flinch.
"Don't prove me wrong." Still a whisper, she inhaled a deep, shaky breath, "Being brave is what life is all about." A tiny yet familiar smile curving her lips, just for a few seconds.
"It is. And I wonder who taught me that." Bernie gave a teasing nudge, and both hands interlaced, gripped tightly.
The brunette finally tumbled into her craved embrace. Something she had missed for an eternity. And she breathed in, inhaling the perfect scent of comfort and soulmate. "For the record, I never minded keeping us a secret. We had to. I still wouldn't mind. However, I don't want to be considered a dirty secret. Or for you to be ashamed of us."
"I was never ashamed." Reassurance, "I was just never quite ready to step onto the wild side. But I'm enduring now, and it won't be like that."
The silence was basked momentarily, glittering orbs locked with that fuel for lust. Gradually, their face grew closer together, tilted slightly, and their lips gently brushed together. Feathery and sweet. Steadily amplifying with passion, with rewarding moans. Bernie could taste the whiskey on her lips, but the bitter flavour had somehow turned into a spicy zeal. And hands began to wander, tender touches of silky fingertips grazing skin in such an elegant manner.