Smell was the first sense to return to Serena when she woke hours later. The oddly nondescript scent of disinfectant in a sterile environment. Laundered cotton. Slightly stale sweat. Shampoo not her own.

Noise filtered in next, what there was of it. Her surroundings were quiet but for the muffled drone of a PA system paging consultants to theatre. The mellow, asynchronous beeping of multiple heart monitors. A body shifting in an uncomfortable chair.

Sensation followed the taste of staleness in her mouth. She was thirsty. She was cold. She was partially numb.

One of the heart monitors began to beep sporadically out of tune. Not yet enough to signal a cardiac emergency, instead indicating apprehension, anxiety, or an unexpected to return to wakefulness.

Serena's left side was numb.

She dashed off stroke symptoms in her head but found she lacked the focus to carry out the usual checks. Her thoughts drifted toward AAU. Toward Elinor. Jason. Sian. Bernie and Bernie's dark, sad eyes. For a moment her thoughts unravelled and she panicked, certain she'd suffered some rare complication. She wrenched her scattered wits from recollecting Ellie's hug and Bernie's cheek against hers to the soggy present. She took stock of her limbs. It took three tries to count them. Legs, and right arm were fine. It was her left arm that was entirely numb.

Her upper left quadrant was numb. She was exhausted and found it difficult to think in straight lines. She was in a dull, muffled kind of pain not easy to pinpoint. What happened to me?

"Ms. Campbell, are you awake?" Serena only vaguely recognized the voice. "If you can hear me, can you squeeze my hand?" A large hand cover Serena's right. She gave a squeeze after a moment's delay. The works were all mucked up; the nerve impulse took its time leaving her brain and reaching her hand. She couldn't have said how long, time was a blur. "Good. You've just come out of surgery, so you're probably disorientated. Everything is fine. The surgery was a success. Can you open your eyes for me?"

She attempted to wriggle all her fingers and toes and found the lot were intact and accounted for. The pressure on her left arm and shoulder was external, not internal. With some difficulty she managed to open her eyes and take in her surroundings.

A private room in post-surgical recovery unless her eyes deceived her, and Cameron Dunn holding her hand. He was wearing a fairly hideous holiday jumper covered in reindeers.

"That's better. Sit tight. I'm going to get your surgeon. Think you can stay awake that long?"

Serena managed a short nod that was about all she had energy for. When he'd gone to fetch Ric Griffin, Serena cast her eyes about the room trying to get her bearings. She loathed being under general anaesthesia for this very reason. But then, she'd never claimed to be anything but a terrible patient. She turned laboriously to her left to take further stock of her situation and found her lodestone snoring at her side, monopolizing her left shoulder and arm for herself.

Bernie was sleeping heavily in the same bed, face pillowed on Serena's shoulder. A small pool of drool had dried on Serena's gown. Her colour was good. Her breathing deep and even. The beeping of Serena's heart monitor slowed to a more normal rhythm as her anxiety dipped. Bernie was alive. Ric had kept his word.

Ric greeted her with a smile on finding her awake.

"About time you came back to us."

"I hate general anaesthetic."

"You've said." There was a story there. Serena was going to hear about it when she was recovered, she was sure.

Ric examined Serena thoroughly and though he made no mention of Bernie's presence, it was obvious he didn't entirely approve of their bed-sharing from a professional standpoint. Not that she blamed him: Navigating their various leads was a logistical nightmare. His raised eyebrows, however, indicated Serena could expect some good-natured ribbing about this in the future. She didn't mind much, he'd kept his word.

Once Ric had pronounced her in good health for her first follow-up, he left Serena and Cameron alone again.

"Now that I'm somewhat more coherent, what's this about?" She indicated Bernie still heavily asleep beside her. Bernie had slept through Ric's visit without any sign of waking. Cameron levelled her with one of those inscrutable, intriguing, bloody frustrating looks Bernie was known for. Serena's harrumphed. "Can we dispense with the dramatics, Mr. Dunn? One unreadable Wolfe is about all I've got time for."

"Mum wanted to be near you when you woke up."

Serena's gaze was drawn back to her friend. Their hands were tangled in her lap. It's how she would have wanted to wake up if she had her druthers, entwined with Bernie.

"This can't be very comfortable for her." Serena wasn't in any rush to disturb Bernie when she looked so peaceful, nonetheless.

"She insisted." From the dry tone he effected, Serena suspected Bernie had demanded he either render aid or get out of the way while she did what she wanted in the first place. She really was a one-woman army when she put her mind to it.

"She didn't give you a choice."

He snorted. "Not much of one. More water?"

"I think so." She managed a couple of sips before the effort of lifting the cup proved too much for her. Cameron took it away without complaint. He sat on the edge of the bed, like his mother, seemingly working up the nerve to share something. Serena wondered if Bernie noticed how he took after her.

"You did something really amazing thing for my mum today. I can't begin to thank you."

"My reasons were partly selfish. I just want her to be well as she can be again." She wanted Bernie to grow old and grey beside her. A kidney was something she could afford to lose compared to what she'd keep.

"When she told me, I didn't know what to think. Most people don't just give their organs away to colleagues they've only know a year."

"I'm not a match for most colleagues I've only known a year." Serena rested her index and middle fingers over Bernie's wrist to take her pulse. Even though the heart monitor indicated Bernie was perfectly fine, being able to count out her heartbeat was comforting. Bernie lived, all was well.

"My sister and I, when she told us, we both asked if the two of you were together. Romantically."

Serena tried to sit up, but Bernie's ensuing snuffle kept her anchored in place. Serena soothed her while glaring at Cameron who was unruffled by her irritation.

"You have to admit, it makes more sense if you're in love with her."

"She's my best friend."

"She said the same thing." Somehow Serena got the impression that wasn't all Bernie had said on the matter. Cameron ruffled his hair in a gesture that was heartrending in its familiarity. "She really likes you. More than I've seen her like anyone."

"We're friends." Per Bernie's express wishes.

"That's not all you are. You don't have to say anything to me about it. I've been informed it's none of my business, but you should tell her. This is a second chance most people don't get, don't waste it."

The nightmare of watching Bernie struggle to balance a professionally outgoing nature with her physical limitations was at an end. Or so Serena hoped. It would be months before they could ascertain whether Bernie's immune system would reject Serena's kidney, but she was hoping, beyond hope maybe, that it wouldn't mind too much being part of Bernie now.

Bernie woke in fits and starts. Her fingers twitched in Serena's grasp, her pulse ox monitor scraping Serena's palm. Her legs shifted restlessly against Serena's. She rubbed her cheek against Serena's collarbone.

"S'rena?" she slurred.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Serena tucked Bernie's hair away from her bleary eyes as they opened.

"You okay?" She smacked her chapped lips and Serena beckoned Cameron over to offer her some ice chips. Bernie smiled at him and crunched carefully on the ice. Serena counted the crinkles beside her eyes. The freckles on her cheeks. Looked away when Bernie returned her scrutiny.

"I'm getting along. How are you feeling?"

Bernie quenched her thirst before answering. "Like death…but good."

Serena laughed, only to hiss as the motion pulled at her abdominal incision. That was going to take some getting used to, chuckling with care.

Bernie sat up and winced herself. Serena squeezed her shoulder. Cameron hovered uncertainly. "Take it easy."

"Goes double for you," Bernie retorted. Cameron subsided, obviously deciding they must have been on the mend if they were already squabbling.

"I'm not the one that got blown up last year."

Bernie grunted but didn't argue. The IED was Serena's ace in the hole when it came to Bernie taking care of herself. Bad enough that she'd suffered the cervical spinal fractures she had, that and the pseudo aneurysm in her pericardium and right ventricle that had led Oliver Valentine to hold her heart in his hands to get it beating again. The damage to her kidneys caused by bomb shrapnel had left Bernie on the verge of acute intrinsic renal failure in short order. Had it not been for thrice weekly dialysis treatments, Bernie would have died from complications associated with uraemia some months ago. Serena could have lost her without ever having her; there was a wealth of tragedy in that.

"Mum, I'm going to get the doctor. You two should…talk." He was gone before either of them could protest.

Bernie reclined against Serena. She fit like a glove. "Have I missed something?"

"I couldn't say. He's as impossible to read as a certain trauma surgeon I could name."

"Dunno where he gets it from."

"I…" She nearly said 'I love you' for no reason, save for it being on the tip of her tongue. "I don't know what I expected."

Bernie's hand found hers amid the sheets. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Cameron already said that and I told him no thanks was necessary."

"He asked me if you loved me."

Serena turned her hand over to cradle Bernie's hand against her stomach. "Of course I love you. You're my best friend."

"Don't fob me off, Serena. It's a legitimate question."

"Would it mean less if that was the reason?"

"No, I just want to know."

"Why complicate things?"

"They're already plenty complicated from where I'm sitting."

"Which is on my bed, for some reason."

"I couldn't see you from over there. I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm fine. I may not have army training behind me, but I'm plenty healthy."

"I couldn't see you at first. It must have been the anaesthesia. I panicked. If you'd been hurt or worse because of me—Serena, I couldn't have lived with that."

"Why?"

Bernie failed to find the words to answer her.

"Not an easy question, is it?"

Bernie shifted toward the railing, winced and went still. Her throat undulated on a swallow. "I should let you have your bed back."

Serena caught her arm before she could lower the safety rail. "Stay. I like the company." I like you with me. "I don't really want to be alone in here." It was disconcerting being on the other side of the patient-doctor divide.

"Whatever you want."

Bernie did have to leave the sanctuary of Serena's bed for her own when Ric returned to examine her. He made quick work of checking her vitals and inspecting her incision for early signs of infection. She was right as rain. Serena might have slumped from relief. She knew that nothing would go wrong and yet that knowledge didn't prevent the fear from creeping in at the margins. She hadn't thought she would lose her mother at Holby either and yet she had.

"See, Bernie, nothing to worry about. You're fine and so am I."

"I'm better than fine, thanks to you."

The space between them seemed positively cavernous. Serena twisted her hands in the covers to hide how much she wished Bernie was still beside her. Bernie's finger's ceased their own fidgeting when Serena set eyes on them. She smoothed the sheets over her legs and cleared the throat.

"I can't believe you gave me a kidney for Christmas."

"I did say you're hard to shop for." Hard though not impossible. Serena had a tote of presents for Bernie at home. Small things that would make her life a little easier. A memory foam back cushion for her office chair. A thick Merino wool scarf. Lambskin gloves to wear when she forgot hers at home. A jolly fine jumper depicting a wolf in a Santa hat that Serena giggled just thinking about.

Bernie found her giggling suspicious. "If you got me something ridiculous…"

"You'll wear it and like it. You'll need it to keep warm." Bernie's collection of knitwear had grown over the past year, courtesy of her chronic anaemia. When Serena caught her complaining of cold on the mildest of days, a new scarf made its way to Bernie's side of the office. Bernie had ceased her complaining when Serena had gifted her one in her preferred colour. She wore it everywhere.

"Promise it's not a cap with a pom-pom on it." She groaned at Serena's wicked grin. Serena wasn't giving the game away that easily. "You could have stopped at the kidney."

"I like going the extra mile for my friends." For you.

"I know. It's one of the things I like about you. I more than like about you."

There was something Bernie wasn't saying. She pressed her lips together and turned toward the window to look out at the deteriorating weather. A porter arrived bearing their late lunch before Serena could formulate a response more coherent than the jumble of half-formed questions jockeying for attention in her mind.

They had a late lunch full of companionable chitchat, taking turns complaining about the blandness of what passed for a hospital fare and sighing wistfully over the snow falling in sheets outside the window, surely coating the cars and streets and houses far below.

"The cold's murder on my back, but I love the snow. The kids loved making snowmen when they were small. We used to erect snow soldiers and stage snow battles on the front lawn after whiteouts until Marcus got fed up with my side always winning."

"What a general you must have made."

"Oh, not me. I was in charge of repairing the troops when their carrot noses got knocked off by ballistic snowball missiles. Cameron's the general. He's always got a strategy at work."

"Canny like his mum."

"Here I thought I was big and macho."

"He also gets that from his mum. One of the things I love most about you."

"You do?"

"I do."

Bernie tucked her hair behind her ear. Serena was sure she wasn't imagining the look of pleasure on her face.

Serena decided to go for broke, in the spirit of Christmas. "Bernie, come over here."

Bernie was standing before she paused to ask why.

"I need a hand lowering the bed railing. I'm terrible at it. Don't tell the porters or they'll laugh." Bernie laughed enough for all the porters on their ward, but she did help.

"Going somewhere?"

"Making room." She patted the space she'd left empty beside her. "You coming back or are you going to let me freeze in this bed alone?" Preferring Bernie in bed with her as a comfort hadn't been an excuse, she felt safer with her close by, and warmer, too.

Bernie climbed under the covers and squirmed round till she found a warm nook in which to settle.

"I've had a good number of soldiers in bed in my day but never under these circumstances."

"We're cheap dates, you may have tried too hard."

"Speaking personally?"

"You'll have to see for yourself."

Serena was sorely tempted to try.

They fielded a steady stream of well-wishers in the afternoon. After Cameron left for home, Raf and Fletch arrived together with Evie, who hugged Serena so tightly she just about squeezed the stuffing out of her. Henrik brought them a bouquet of peonies to share and an Aloe vera plant which Serena took immediate custody of, knowing Bernie's penchant for killing the most robust of houseplants. Morven tiptoed in at the end of her shift to bring them contraband milk tray. Sacha brought them a blooming sunflower. To brighten up the dreary atmosphere of the place, he said.

Dominic Copeland came bearing a floating metallic balloon that read Hey it's a kidney! This might have been more impressive had Girl not been crossed out in red permanent marker and a crude drawing of a kidney scribbled beneath it.

Serena played hostess this time around. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Dr. Copeland?"

"You tell me." His tone was rife with meaning.

"Dr. Copeland!" Bernie barked in censure, the tenor of which was belied by her rosy cheeks.

The junior doctor shrugged. "Nothing's going on. I know nothing. I'll just leave this here." He sat the balloon and the attached miniature bouquet on the chest of drawers nearest the door. "I thought you'd still be asleep."

Bernie scowled at him. "I had a wakeup call."

He gave their linked hands a quick look. "I'll say. I'll leave the two of you to 'rest'. I'll see you up on the roof, Ms. Wolfe." With that parting shot, he was gone.

Serena got the distinct impression she'd missed something. "Is that code for something?"

"Not for anything I've heard of." Bernie was an appalling liar.

"It's all going down on the roof, is it?"

Bernie shrugged. Her face was a parody of calm. Serena opted to let her off the hook lest she injure herself coming up with a convenient excuse for Dominic's behaviour. She'd pick her brain when Bernie was free to run. What good could come from cornering her? Serena was out of things to hope for.

Sian appeared at the start of sanctioned family visiting hours with Elinor and Jason in tow. "Isn't this cosy?" she noted upon finding Bernie and Serena dozing together yet again. She was impervious to Serena's quelling look. "The beds weren't nearly this spacious on your ward."

"These are private beds."

"I can see why."

"Good day in court?"

"Only every day." She offered Bernie her hand. "Sian Kors, the uni mate."

"Bernie Wolfe, the work mate."

"Bed sharing is what passes for work around here? I should change professions."

"Sian, behave."

"A little mature humour. We're all adults here, aren't we?" She was only partly joking. Serena regretted drunkenly confessing her daydreams about Bernie to her more than ever. "I've read human contact promotes healing. Who am I to tell the doctors not to heal themselves? Just you take care of our girl. She's been through a lot." There was a note of caution behind Sian's good humour. Serena might have stature on her side, but Sian was by far the scrapper of the two.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Bernie was in a war."

"We all have our wars, Rena. They're just different ones."

Bernie cut in before they could descend into a tight-lipped snit, "I'll take care of her. You don't have to worry."

"I'll always worry. That's what friends do. Isn't that how this came about?" She gestured to them together, flush side by side, sharing covers, sharing organs, lives and careers irrevocably intertwined. Like turtle doves who found one another and paired up for all time. Sian had seen it for what it was before Serena had been prepared to give it a name. "How are you both? What's the prognosis?"

"We'll be hale and healthy in no time," responded Serena, parroting Ric's earlier assessment.

Sian hummed sceptically. "You'd better be. I can't keep drinking all the red wine on my own or people will start to talk."

Bernie looked at her Serena and Sian, a teasing light taking up residence in her eyes. "I doubt you'll be without your drinking partner for long. Serena's been a bear without her Shiraz. I should have guessed something was amiss."

"Thank you for that. My best friends have both turned traitor against me, all in the name of vino."

"Maybe if you tried ordering by the glass more often?" Bernie suggested, to Serena's offense, spurring a disbelieving guffaw out of Sian who knew Serena's spirited roots going back decades. Serena had never been a 'by the glass' kind of girl.

"Sorry, Serena Campbell here. Have we met?"

Bernie shook the hand she offered by instinct. In many ways it was like meeting for the first time. Before they'd been strangers and now they shared something immutable, indefinable. What was indefinable between them wasn't anything new.

Their eyes remained locked for a long moment. Bernie smiled and Serena flushed.

Sian coughed inconspicuously from their bedside, shattering the moment. "I think Jason wants a word before I take him home."

Sian drew Elinor aside to let Jason have a word with Serena and, by extension, Bernie.

"You didn't die. I'm glad."

"I'm glad I didn't die either."

Bernie looked between them quizzically. "Why are we talking about dying?"

"I researched the possible outcomes of organ donation. The worst among them was death. I told Auntie Serena I would prefer she didn't die."

Sian shot him a conspiratorial look. "I told her that as well. Seems like she listened to us."

"It wasn't all her doing. Not even Auntie Serena can perform surgery on herself. The surgeon must be of adequate competence not to have killed her."

"Adequate competence, he says."

Bernie buried her laughter in a cough. "That's kind of you to say, Jason. We'll be sure to pass your compliments on to Mr. Griffin."

Once Jason had been waylaid by another of Sian's legal anecdotes, Elinor stepped up to the plate. Serena braced herself. Her daughter had been the most sceptical of the three by far.

"My mom's told me a lot about you. I wasn't sure at first about all this, her giving up a kidney for just anybody."

Bernie lowered her head slightly. "My son wasn't convinced, either. Nor my daughter."

"She said if it was going to be anybody, it'd be you. Hope you're worth it."

Bernie went rock still beside her.

"Ellie…"

Elinor smiled tightly. "I meant it as a compliment."

Serena didn't need to reprimand her to put that line of consternation between her daughter's eyes. Elinor knew the lines well enough to be aware she'd crossed one. Serena didn't want to fight, she was far from up to her usual standard. More than that, she didn't want two of the people she loved most at odds. Bernie hadn't said anything as yet, only hung on to Serena's hand tight enough to leave the impressions of her fingers on her skin.

"I'll try to be worth it," she finally murmured, nothing at all like her usual self. It satisfied Elinor, though, and Serena supposed that would have to do for a temporary truce.

Elinor might have been playing the aloof protective party, but she was smiling as she hadn't in years. "I'm glad you're okay, Mum."

"Thank you, and thank you for coming."

"I can't stay. Play rehearsal. I just wanted to see you."

"You can see me anytime." That was the future she wanted, one where Elinor wanted to see her for reasons that weren't financial. Maybe that was what the rest of her life looked like if she played her cards just so.

Elinor hugged her and kissed her cheek before saying her goodbyes.

Not long after Serena's family had gone, a young woman appeared bearing a fruit basket. She was a lanky, honey blonde facsimile of what Bernie Wolfe must have looked like as a university student.

"Mum!" Her shout was the only warning Bernie received before being tackled in a loving embrace.

Serena got no such warning to get out of the way and was left without any place to retreat to in order to avoid becoming the inadvertent pickle in a Dunn and Wolfe sandwich. In the end she opted to keep quiet and ride it out.

The girl eventually withdrew, all pinked-cheeked apologies. She had Marcus's eyes, if Serena remembered correctly. "Erm, sorry."

Serena relented. "No harm done."

"I meant the not introducing myself part. Charlotte Dunn. That's my mother," she declared as though she wasn't the spit of the woman in Serena's bed.

"The resemblance did make me curious."

"Everybody says that!"

"It's quite strong."

Mother and daughter shared an exasperated glance. They had the same sheepish smile.

"It's really cool, what you did for her. She's been miserable on the dialysis all these months. She complains about it all the time."

"I do not!"

"Constantly!" Charlotte chirped, echoing her mother's indignant tone.

"It was hard on me, Lottie. Being sick is a bit shit." She scratched at the bandaged port in her arm. They all hoped it had seen its last use.

"I know, Mum. It's not your fault. If it was the only way to keep you, I'd listen to you moan about it every day till you let your hair turn grey."

"Steady on!"

Charlotte turned her attention to Serena. "She doesn't care about her hair unless you're around."

"I care," protested Bernie, rather half-heartedly.

"Sorry, you primped before your kidney transplant because you wanted the nurses to fancy you?"

Bernie shot Serena a nervous smile. "Lottie, don't you have studying to do?"

"Hmm. Lucky for you, I'm due to sit my exams for the rest of the week and won't be back till after. We'll be talking about this."

"Not bloody likely."

"Very likely." Charlotte squeezed Serena's hand. "Thanks for what you did."

"I hope it takes."

"Even if it doesn't, that was brave of you and kind. Mum tell her how kind it was." The note of steel in her voice was unmistakably Bernie's influence.

"It was very kind of you to give me a kidney," recited Bernie gamely.

"I'd say anytime, but I'm all out of spares."

Charlotte looked at her with a funny smile Serena was sure she'd seen Cameron wearing earlier. "I like this one."

Bernie shooed her toward the door. "Go study!"

"Going! Bye, Mum. Bye, Serena."

"It was good meeting you." Charlotte backed out the door, waving till she was out of sight, leaving the two of them alone. "She's exactly like you."

"Please. She's everything I wish I was. I'm so proud of her."

"You should be. You raised two decent, polite, caring kids. Not everyone can say that." Serena couldn't quite say that without some of caveats. Elinor had her moments and Jason was all Marjorie's doing. Not a terrible outcome for two unwitting sisters doing it on their own.

Dinner saw them greeting the last of their night's visitors in the form of Ric Griffin. He was dressed for the winter weather. Coat, gloves, and scarf. He was on the way out.

"You're both recovering well. Temperatures and vitals normal. How's the pain?"

Bernie answered first. "Normal levels. Serena?"

"Normal."

"Given your backgrounds, I'm going to trust you're telling me the truth, because I'd like to go home and have dinner with my granddaughter at a reasonable hour. That said, I'll be checking your incisions first thing in the morning, unless either of you experience pain spikes, excess heat or swelling at or near your incisions, or develop a fever in the night. In which case, hit the call button and summon a nurse."

Serena was compelled to remind him who he was dealing with. "We do know how this works."

"Nevertheless, I'm obliged to advise you of your options. You're my patients and you've undergone major surgery. The best thing you can do is let me look after you until you're back on your feet." He continued to make notations on each of their charts. "I'd say I don't want you trying to diagnose yourselves or each other, but I have a feeling I'd be wasting my breath."

"Two heads are better that one," Bernie quipped.

"Two beds are better than one, but you don't seem to be adhering to that, either."

"We got cold?" Not an outstanding justification, granted, but one Ric seemed loath to contradict. Serena was going to owe him drinks for a year after this.

"If you need additional blankets, you're welcome to request for them. I shouldn't need to say this, but I'd recommend avoiding vigorous physical activity for at least a few weeks."

Serena raised an eyebrow. Bernie blew her hair out of her face which did nothing to hide the colour in it.

"That's my professional opinion, take it or leave it. Good night, ladies."

He abandoned them to the elephant in the room that no longer seemed content containing itself in the corner.

"Well, that was…"

"It certainly was."

"Serena."

Serena cringed, wished for the distance she'd abhorred when there was a room between them. One could hide in distance. "We don't have to talk about this."

"I think we do. I want to talk about it."

What Serena wanted was to put this conversation off until the New Year. This way, she could keep Bernie right here, at her side. She could share her warmth and her laughter and not count the days till she lost it. She wouldn't have to wonder if the next words out of Bernie's mouth were borne of authentic feeling or gratitude.

"We're friends. What else is there to discuss?"

"Whatever I did, whatever Sian thinks I did last night, or you think I did. Serena, I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't."

"I don't believe you."

"It's not important." Serena combed her fingers through the whisper hair at the base of her skull, wishing for a shower. Something about the recycled hospital air made her long for soap and hot water. "You said I should be happy with us being friends and I am."

Bernie lips pinched and turned downward. "That's not what I meant. I just wanted to know if that was enough for you. It isn't really enough for me. It hasn't been for…longer than I want to say."

"I don't understand."

Bernie glanced toward the door, shifting incrementally from their intimate contact. Searching for impossible distance. "I didn't want you to feel obligated."

"You're anything but an obligation, Bernie."

"Obligated because you knew how I felt about you. Everyone else seems to know."

Serena's thoughts collapsed a flurry of static-ridden white. Last night, in the car park, Bernie had said…She had been sure that Bernie didn't feel the same.

Bernie eyed her warily. She was waiting for the first sign of a negative reaction. Serena could see that she was prepared to bolt, post-surgical incision or not. "I want so much with you, but I thought it was just me. You don't know how many friendships I've destroyed with feelings they couldn't return. I didn't want to ruin us. Tell me I haven't."

The static cleared. The confusion eased. Serena knew what to do. "You couldn't."

"Are you sure? Once we start this, whatever this is, I can't go back." There was no after Bernie for Serena. Realistically, yes, if there had to be someday, there might be, but for Bernie? Should the transplant result in success, Bernie would carry part of Serena inside her for much of the remainder of her life, if not the rest of it. There was no way for them to become more intertwined than that. "Is that what you want?"

"I want you. You're everything I want." She closed the scant space between them and kissed the hopeful look off Bernie's face. What they had was more than hope. It was concrete as Bernie's cheeks were velvet soft cradled in Serena's hands. Bernie embraced Serena, coaxed her into a deeper kiss, parting her lips to let Serena inside. Serena sighed at the first brush of their tongues, arching her spine to press their bodies together, eager for them to be in contact everywhere, inch for sensitive inch. Were they anywhere else Serena would be stripped Bernie out of her clothes and putting her university experience to extremely good use. But here at Holby, where no door truly locked and privacy was briefly-held delusion, these kiss would have to act as promise and temptation.

Serena dragged a hand down her side, thumb just glancing over a breast. Bernie gasped in momentary surprise, only to hum in deep satisfaction and kiss Serena again but with teeth. Serena moaned just imagining how good those teeth would feel elsewhere. It wouldn't be long before she could find out.

Their fun was brought short when Bernie grabbed her stomach at the first pull of her sutures. "Damn it."

Serena rubbed a soothing hand down her arm and nodded toward the morphine pump Bernie had been ignoring since coming out of surgery. Stubborn soldier that she was, she was determined to go without.

"And here I thought we were barred from vigorous activity."

"Just wait until you're cleared, darling. I'll show you vigorous activity." Serena pulled her down onto the bed into position that put less pressure on Bernie's abdominal incision. She shifted to ease the stinging at the removal site on her own back. Ric was going to give them such a lecture come morning. Serena was stupidly giddy to hear it if it meant she heard it with Bernie. She kissed Bernie again once a dose of meds from her morphine pump had begun to ease the worst of her discomfort.

Bernie kissed her back, drifting close to savour the contact. Urgency would be for later, tonight was for gratitude and softness, and not aggravating their wounds. Besides, Serena got to kiss Bernie Wolfe. What more could she want for Christmas that the world could give?

"If you're worried I'll change my mind, kissing me isn't the way to get me to leave."

Bernie propped herself up on her arm. "I'm going to remember you said that."

Serena smiled and pulled her as close as she dared. "I hope so."

Once the lights were turned out and they were nestled together on the verge of sleep, Bernie asked her one last time, "Why did you do it, Serena?"

Serena was warm in a cold room and alive with the woman she adored in her arms. She was too tired and content for lies. She stroked Bernie's hip, one of many parts of this woman she was eager to know with all her heart. "Because I'm in love with you, have been for months, and there were no other choices." With her last waking breath she brushed their lips together and rubbed her nose against Bernie's till her lips tilted up into a smile.

Bernie's eyes twinkled in the snowy twilight as the snowflakes had glittered in her hair. "I love you, too."

Like a turtle dove who stumbled on its perfect match in all the world, Serena had found her one, and like a turtle dove she was never letting Bernie go. Doves weren't the only creatures who fell in love and partnered for life.