Fortitude

for•ti•tude n. mental and emotional strength in facing adversity, danger, or temptation courageously.

Anyone looking at them could see their feelings plainly written on their faces. The only people overthinking the situation were Serena and Bernie. Every word or expression was analysed to an inch of its life. They worked seamlessly as muscle memory took over and their movements in theatre were still poetry in motion. Missing were the quips and laughter. The junior doctors however, benefitted from the masterclass in surgery that they witnessed. After one tough case where a 15 year old boy died on the table following a prank played by his friends which included a crude bomb, Serena ordered Bernie to their office with a tilt of her head.

"Talk to me Bernie."

"I, I am fine Serena. Thanks for asking."

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how affected are you?"

"A four…"

"OK. So an eight."

"That's…" at Serena's head tilt and raised eyebrow, Bernie conceded, "An eight."

"Alright Major, talk to me."

Not being ever able or willing to talk about the carnage of war even with the mandated Army therapist, Bernie knew she had no choice now. She would gnaw her arm off than refuse the only real chance to be with Serena outside of work.

"When I was out there, I was mentally prepared for the horrors. I just numb myself. You don't see patients; you see a medical issue to be fixed."

Serena almost reached out to take Bernie's hand but refrained as Bernie wrung her hands together and continued. "Sometimes we would lend a hand to the locals who were blown up. What we saw today in Theatre was tame to most of what I dealt with out there in the desert. But I never expected to see that walking into this hospital. And…and I am so angry at these stupid boys who would treat a bomb as a plaything. It cheapens everything comrade after comrade died for. I wish they won't take their good fortune for granted. I've left children their age who I know would not live to be an adult."

By now, tears were freely flowing down her face. A fact she paid no attention to until Serena stepped in the path of her pacing and gently wiped her tears away. Bernie couldn't help herself and she grabbed Serena into a bone-crushing hug and really cried for the first time for the dead boy, so many fallen soldiers, so many war torn children and so much more. Serena didn't offer any platitudes; she just stood there rubbing soothing circles on Bernie's back. When she was all cried out, she tried to apologize for breaking down. As Serena was about to reply, her phone rang and after answering, she took her leave from Bernie to go to dinner. Bernie had no clue who was on the other side of the phone but quickly retreated to the stoic Army Medic mode and pretended that she was not jealous of whomever would be spending time with Serena.

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After her shift, Bernie had no desire to go home straightway so she ended up in the peace garden that unfortunately housed someone she definitely did not want to see.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Ms. Wolfe. No worries. It's a free country. Matter of fact, join me." At Bernie's look of disdain, she tacked on a please.

"What are you doing here Ms. Naylor?"

"Night shift. Bored out of my mind."

"Hmm. I, ah, I'm on my way home."

"Alright. So, have you been treating Serena properly?"

"I am trying, ah, but she only wants a professional relationship."

"Well?"

"Sorry?"

"What have you done? Flowers, dinner, shiraz?"

"I brought her coffee and asked her to lunch but she said no. I think she's seeing someone."

"Oh, for God's sake. You are so lame Wolfe! Tell me, how do you feel about her?"

"I really like Serena."

"Like? What are we, in primary school?"

"What are you asking me?"

"Do you love her?"

"I, ah, I um…yea."

"Don't trip over yourself with that affirmation. Very smooth."

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at feelings."

"Bullshit! OK, I'm Serena, tell me you love me."

"What? You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack Blondie." Jac pasted a smile on her face that was supposed to represent Serena's and tilted her head. She fluttered her eyelids for effect.

"Please do not do that!" requested Bernie.

"Start talking then."

"OK. Serena, I um, I ah like you, a lot! In fact, I would say that I ah, maybe, love you?"

"You are horrible at this! Put some back into it. It's easy, 'Serena, I love you.' Repeat."

Bernie shook her head thinking that this is definitely the weirdest conversation she has had in her life. When she saw Jac narrowed her eyes in exasperation, she hurriedly blurted, "Serena, I love you."

"Again." Ordered Jac.

"Serena, I love you."

"Not bad for a macho Army medic. I'd advise you to practise in front of the mirror so that you won't blubber in Serena's presence."

"Thanks Ms Naylor."

"Yes, well…make sure you take care of her or I will break your legs and slash your tyres."

"Now, that's definitely a threat Naylor!"

"Nope, that's a friendly warning. Besides I think we punch in the same weight class."

"I'm sorry. I'm not into sports or its metaphors."

"You are a terrible lesbian Wolfe." Shaking her head as she stood to return to Darwin following a page, Jac said "put on your big girl panties Wolfe and work on wining the girl."

Bernie smiled a little as she also got up to finally go home thinking that Holby City Hospital would be her home form that moment. No more secondments or traipsing off to help anyone. She has to make amends to Serena. By the time she entered her apartment, she had already formulated a plan of action and contingency plans and identified her recruits to roll out the full-scale Operation Regina Serena.

THE END

AN: This went very differently from head to page. Thanking you for sticking around. Let's see what the writers offer us in canon.