Last bit! Sorry for the delay but thank you so much for reading. Hope this is a half-decent +1!
Sometimes, Bernie wondered why the hell she bothered…
One of such occasions happened to be now, when she was balancing in a one-legged pose on a seemingly unsteady stool, arms spanning as wide as possible, trembling under the heavy and awkward weight of the curtain pole.
"You bastard," She muttered, again trying to coax the wooden frame into a very obnoxious hook at the other end. She sighed in equal relief and triumph at the accomplishment, before jumping down to the ground, noting the stray coat hanger stuck underneath the plastic stool- the sole responsibility behind its rocky nature.
Standing in the middle of the room, Bernie scanned her surroundings, before taking a slower gaze to her efforts. She didn't bother to suppress the smile: why would she when she was in the room alone? That and she was bloody proud so far.
It had been the plan for months; Serena had been desperate for…how did she put it? 'A more vibrant and jazzier feel' to their bedroom. She had meticulously planned the transformation, totally blinded by the project for at least 3 weeks, leaving Bernie to take care of the normal domestic tasks. Serena would collapse into comfort from her shift, regardless of how tense, enduring or chaotic, by flicking through decorating guides, poring over each design in the homeware magazines, scribbling endlessly in a glossy notebook- all the while being dutifully supplied with shiraz by her partner, hoping it would make her just that little bit less coherent and give the planning a rest for the night. One time, Bernie had woken suddenly, disorientated to the fact that a) there was little in the way of sunshine bursting into their room and b) Serena was nowhere to be seen, or heard for that matter. On investigation, Bernie had stalked out into the hallway (lamp in hand, held out for defence) to find Serena measuring the mirror on the landing, again jotting in her notebook. And she'd asked Bernie what she was doing at 3 in the morning!
Little did she know, that notebook would be the answer to her prayers.
Henrik had arrived, more glided silently, into their office one morning and, as direct as ever, informed the pair of an upcoming trauma medicine conference where Holby's invitation required one consultant and a nurse to attend.
"She'll go." Bernie instantly, very flatly replied, pointing directly across the room before Serena had even had chance to open her mouth.
"Oh, charming. Take your time over the sacrifice, won't you darling? Bloody-" Serena muttered, glancing up to the CEO shuffling by the doorway. "Yes, alright. If I must. But I'm not taking Fletch; he'll drive me nuts."
"Too late, boss." Came an amused chime from outside the office and Bernie suppressed a grin matching the cheeky smile Fletch sported, as he spun around the door and then back out as quickly, followed by Hanssen.
Serena had reluctantly left the following Wednesday morning, hoping to be back by Friday evening. Bernie had been on a later shift when Serena had departed to pick up Fletch in the hours of dawn. After pottering around aimlessly, she'd pulled out a box from under the bed (trying to find the odd sock she had definitely seen recently) and Serena's abandoned plans for their bedroom had fallen out too. Aware she hadn't actually seen the ideas after pages 2 or 3, she sat against the wall and continued to turn through the booklet in awe of how precise her girlfriend had been, cutting out different patterns and colours, mapping out brief layouts, noting measurements for all sorts-rug, curtains, wardrobe space. The woman was a genius and Bernie marvelled at the bright spark that'd been lit.
After a trying shift, to say the least, she'd trekked around several retail parks, collecting items on the list Serena had gone to the trouble of adding at the back of the book, price and all. It really was a fool-proof (Bernie proof, at least) guide to how she'd envisioned their sanctuary. A couple of items just weren't possible- the exact curtain pole noted had sold out and the deeper grey throw had been decommissioned, but Bernie had used the intuition and courage the guide had given her to pick out something similar. Easy.
Or so she thought.
The buying was a piece of piss. It was putting the room together that was killing her slowly. Thank Christ it was only one wall of paper! Bernie had tackled it overly optimistically, had even opted to talking to the vast sheets at one point, hoping the gloopy paste wouldn't slide around quite so much on the wall behind it and would miraculously line itself up. And she had come to realise that dismantling the furniture was a LOT easier than putting it back together again. Somehow, she'd managed to put the bed together upside down… and the wardrobe had been a feat of its own. But, a wrestle with the fairy lights, staring competition with the canvas and kickabout with the chest of drawers later, the room was almost complete.
Bernie had whipped the vacuum around and just put the final pillows on the bed- in rather a frenzy at realising the time- when she heard a familiar call from the hallway.
"How much have you missed me then?" A giggle ascended the staircase, followed by footprints from the giggler herself.
"Surprise," Bernie all but whispered, opening the doorway at the same time as Serena went for the door handle.
For the first time in possibly her life, Serena Campbell was speechless. Dumbfounded. Amazed.
"How- what-" Serena took another slow pace into the room, reaching subconsciously out for Bernie's hand.
"If you don't like it-" Bernie murmured, suddenly realising why Serena might not have gone through with her plan. Serena changed her mind like the weather on a mild spring day.
"Oh shut up." Serena leaned forward into a welcoming embrace, kissing her squarely on the lips. "I love it, Bernie. It's truly beautiful" She grinned, tears pricking her eyes, before confusion masked her face. "But how did you know?"
"Notebook." Bernie pointed to the windowsill, where the glittery diary sat amongst a screwdriver and rag. "Found it the morning you left, actually."
"And you've done all of this yourself?" Serena was astonished, truly astonished. It had never been a hidden talent for Bernie to oversee anything mechanical on the car, or be the one to put the temperamental door back on its hinges when it slammed in the wind, but this was far beyond anything Serena would have ever expected. She thought she'd always be the one lumbered with the interior.
"Yep. Well, I had help from youtube at times. Have you ever taken that bloody bed apart? I mistook the legs for the headboard, then had a who-ha trying to undo the bolts because I'd secured them too tightly."
Serena chuckled, moving them over to sit on the bed.
"My big macho army medic."
"Also, I've ironed all the clothes again." Bernie admitted, shuffling back and pulling Serena with her, against the ridiculous amount of pillows Serena had originally drawn out. A puzzled look faced her. "That wardrobe is satan's work. It collapsed a tad so it took the contents with it."
"Collapsed a tad? Oh, Bern." Serena shook her head, though smiling, and leaned back against her partner.
"Don't look under that cabinet, either." Bernie pointed across the room to the white tower, holding a variety of glass ornaments Serena had never previously had space for.
"Why…" Serena propped herself up and turned to Bernie with narrowed suspicion.
"Kind of dropped a little bit of a paintbrush…"
"Navy blue?! On a cream carpet?! Bernie! Oh, you're hopeless you are." Serena grinned, before resting her head back down onto Bernie's chest. She'd given up on the chiding, for now at least.
"Yeah, but you love me." Bernie ran her hand through Serena's hair, smiling down to her.
"I certainly do."