A bit of a shorter update, mainly as I've no idea where this is going, only that it appears to be going somewhere. You never, know, I might even manage to get them both in the same room soon!
Thank you for all the kind comments - they really are what keeps this going. I am serious though, if anyone had any ideas to prompt this fic along, I'm happy to hea them!
Bernie's eyes widened as she read Serena's message. Throwing some notes on the table to cover her bar bill and leave a tip, she quickly retreated to her room where she had the space and the privacy to pace.
Firstly, she really was going to have show Serena at some point just how easily she could overpower her. This being called weak, at least physically, was something she would not stand for, even if it was in jest. It was ingrained in her after so many years in the army that she could not show physical weakness. And she had spent years training, lifting and running to ensure that it was not just a show. Lately, she had even upped her usual training regime, making allowances for her back and ensuring that she did plenty of exercises to strengthen it. Not that she would admit to Serena, but that also included yoga, which she was becoming quite adept at, unlike the brunette.
Secondly, where on earth did a person take Serena Campbell for dinner? Did she go all out and find somewhere exquisite, or did she go for somewhere nice, with good food, decent wine that she could actually relax in? Who was she kidding, on a date with Serena Campbell the last thing she would be doing would be relaxing. Maybe she should find somewhere loud and bustling where her hyperventilating would be less noticeable.
Of course, what didn't help the fact that she had no idea of what sort of establishment to take Serena to, as that Bernie had no idea where was good to eat in and around Holby. Her 'dining out' consisted, as Serena had implied in her message, of take away joints and disgustingly greasy burgers. And when she didn't eat out, instant noodles tended to form a large part of her diet. In her defence, however, she would highlight that she did make her own additions to the sauce and even added shredded vegetables if she was feeling particularly inventive.
She paced the room, her eyes every so often landed on the pathetic heap of clothes that formed her current wardrobe. She still hadn't made it back to the house to pick up the rest of her clothes, or any of the rest of her personal belongings, leaving her with rather slim pickings in terms of what to wear.
Fuck. She sat on the edge of the bed. This was going to be a disaster before it had even begun. Still, that hadn't stopped her before, had it? She slipped her phone from her back pocket, setting about making her reply. She re-read the message before hitting send, ensuring that the tone of the message was that of the cocky, self-assured side of her nature, and not the emotionally retarded destroyer of all things good.
'I think you'll find I'm anything but weak, Ms Campbell. That said, I value my life too much to even dare present you with instant noodles! Glad to hear you like surprises, because I think you'll find I'm full of them!'
Bernie watched the message send, before flopping back down the bed and opening up every half decent restaurant review within the Holby area. Of course, she could always ask her colleagues, but that would mean A; asking for help and B; them knowing she was seeking to take someone to dinner. She was not ready to deal with either and so resigned herself to a late night shift on Trip Advisor.