A/N: I'm hoooooooooome. And jetlagged. Not fun. This chapter is probably ridiculously sweet but that's what happens when I'm tired ;) thank for all the reviews, as always!
Sarah x
Serena sighed. Over a week had passed now since she had embarrassed herself with her weakness at her front door. What had possessed her to kiss him, to put herself in such a compromising position, she felt she would never really understand. She had seen the look in his eyes in the AAU office that morning. She remembered trying to prove to him that she wasn't damaged goods. She'd seen something in him she had never seen before.
And she did not forget that, however briefly, he had kissed her back. To her amazement, though, he had not gone cold on her; he was still speaking to her.
Accepting her fate of working on Keller today rather than her original plan of hiding with paperwork and coffee as her only company, she chucked her bag and coat carelessly into the office.
She wandered back to the main bulk of Keller, standing at the door and taking everything in. She went to fiddle with her necklace and them remembered it had been taken when she was attacked and had not yet been recovered. Chantelle and Arthur were on today, Serena the only consultant since the ward was, for once, relatively quiet.
It was her birthday today. Not that she really cared. Not that Eleanor really cared either. They hadn't spoken since that argument over the phone that fateful night in Brighton. Serena was still keeping everything she could from her daughter; how was she even meant to approach that subject?
Eleanor was due back on Sunday night, and Serena felt guilty for dreading it. Not all the bruises were gone, though they came across as mild enough for her to lie them away. But she was not looking forward to having to hold it together in her own home for the sake of someone else. She felt selfish for it but she felt that way about her own daughter's presence.
"Good morning, Nurse Lane," she sighed. "Dr. Digby," she added, nodding at him briefly before raking through a stack of files. They seemed surprised into silence. Perhaps Sacha had been right; maybe she really was frightening. "Oh, good morning, Ms. Campbell," she took on their side of the conversation mockingly as she rolled her eyes. "How are you on this lovely summer morning?" she continued sarcastically. "I'm fine thanks. You?"
She looked up from the files to see them looking rather stunned at her. Had she really been that subdued since her return? "Don't worry. I've not gone insane. Yet," she added, prompting a relieved beam from Chantelle. Wow. She must have lost her sense of humour until today.
"That was left there for you, Ms. Campbell," Chantelle said cheerfully, pointing at an oddly shaped though neatly wrapped lilac package tied in pale pink ribbon placed on the top of the nurses' station.
"Thanks," Serena whispered, her voice almost failing her. Nobody knew. Hanssen only knew because he'd been presumably snooping in her files. She was not stupid enough to tell anyone it was her birthday today. She picked up the package; it was surprisingly weighty. Not particularly hefty, but heavier than it looked at first sight.
She carefully opened it and her breath caught in her throat in surprise. She thought back to listening to music with Hanssen in the car. She had told him she had had to leave her music in the US. He had to be behind this.
She flicked through them all. CDs and old LPs. All Rosanne Cash ones. All the ones she had once owned. Even a couple she hadn't. It must have cost him a small fortune to find all these. Some were over thirty years old. Her face broke into a smile – the first true smile since she returned to Holby – and she felt hot tears running down her cheeks. Cursing her already fragile emotions, she wiped them away.
"Are you OK?" Chantelle piped up. She nodded, not trusting her vocal cords not to betray the emotion that simple gesture raised in her.
She was put into a further state of shock when Chantelle hugged her. "Why are you giving me the world's most bone-crushing cuddle, Chantelle?" she drawled, remembering how unpleasant she had been to the young woman, and how little affection her behaviour had earned from her.
"Because you're crying!" she exclaimed like it was obvious.
"I'm not crying because I'm sad, you silly girl," Serena laughed, squeezing Chantelle almost as she was doing to the consultant. "I'm crying because it's the nicest thing anyone's done for me in a long time."
"Yeah, but you're not meant to cry. You're not Ms. Campbell if you're crying."
Serena just laughed into Chantelle's neck for a moment and retorted, "Well, I'm still Ms. Campbell and Ms. Campbell has work to do once she's pulled her sorry arse into gear."
Chantelle eventually released her. "Sorry," she smiled. "You've just been a little bit...well, it's nice to have the old Ms. Campbell back."
"I've not gone anywhere," she contradicted as Digby nervously scurried away when he heard the personal route the conversation was taking. Chantelle didn't answer back but Serena knew what she was getting at. She had caught Chantelle watching her from afar a good few times, keeping an eye on the woman who had made her life miserable for something everyone – including Serena – knew had not really been Chantelle's fault. "You're a good girl," Serena smiled. "I should never have doubted you."
She looked taken aback but replied, "It's fine. All over and done with now." She picked up some of the CD and LPs and asked Serena, "What's all this?"
"A friend and I are...accepting our age," she smiled cryptically.
"You're not old," Chantelle waved away her comment. "Everyone feels a bit old on their birthday."
"How do you know it's my birthday?!" Serena demanded.
"Mr. Hanssen told me."
"Did he now?"
"Yep."
"I'm going to kill him."
She wandered away humming to herself as she made her way to bed six and made a mental note to corner Hanssen before he could embarrass her anymore.
That chance came up when they ended up in theatre together. "You've been very naughty," she told him. He glanced up from their patient in surprise so she clarified, "You know. When you left a present and blabbed to Chantelle Lane about what day it is today."
"I have no idea what you are referring to," he answered; she saw the smirk in his eyes the surgical mask hid.
"Finding all that can't have been easy," she added. "Or cheap," she raised an accusing eyebrow at him.
"To see you smile is worth the effort," he replied. She knew he had not meant to be so honest. She had done the same thing herself a few times recently in the exhaustion, both physical and mental, that she had been feeling.
"If I get ambushed with balloons and a cake, you will be punished."
It was the most at ease she had felt in what felt like years but was in reality only two weeks. She was only just beginning to let that guard down and only to those too innocent or in Hanssen's case too wise to try and hurt her. Effectively that left her with Sacha, Chantelle and Hanssen. She was now beginning to believe she could be something like her former self once more if she remembered who would hurt her and who would not.
"I forgot to say," Henrik began, and Serena did not like the tone of forgetful innocence in her voice. "There's a rumour going around that Nurse Lane has had Albie's Bar decorated to resemble the seventh circle of hell in honour of the Devil herself."
"You're pushing your luck," she accused but she could not keep the smile out of her voice. He was making a real effort and she was extremely grateful. "Though I wouldn't put it past her. I don't understand her sometimes. She grabbed me and gave me the tightest cuddle this morning."
"Why?"
She ignored his quest because she didn't want to admit she had cried at his kindness ad continued, "Even after all I put her through concerning my mother, she's still nice to me."
"That is just in Nurse Lane's nature," he complacently replied.
"I'd noticed," she smirked to herself. "It's almost like you want to torture me. Telling Chantelle. Leaving a gift on Keller for me."
"Didn't you like it?"
"Of course I did. I love it," she admitted. "It may well be the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. My reaction, however, was extremely embarrassing," she went on, deciding Chantelle would have told everyone and it would reach Henrik's ears soon enough. "I burst into tears when I realised what you'd done."
"I apologise."
"Don't. Happy tears."
"I'm glad to hear it." It was said with a smugness that made her want to slap him. Last time she had slapped him for his lack of trust and feeling. Today she wanted to slap him for embarrassing her and being so pleased with himself over it. "I have something else for you in my office."
She didn't like the sound of that. What was he up to now?
Nevertheless, she went against her worry and followed him upstairs after surgery, closing the office door behind them. She waited for him to tell her what his intentions were but he remained silent until he stood before her, dangling a familiar piece of jewellery in front of her. "This was found among Adam Cross' belongings. The police sent everything they found to me."
He stood behind her and put it gently around her neck, his fingers brushing her skin as he fastened it. "Thank you," she said. This, she remembered, was why she had wanted him so much that night he had taken her to dinner. Beneath his cold exterior lay a soft heart, and he had chosen to let her see it. She felt that pull again just now, knowing he was mere inches from her. He had confused her feelings for him. She still trusted him, but she was no longer wary of him, and she found she wanted him to go with the instinct she knew he felt.
She turned to face him and saw his soft smile as he gazed down on her. When he touched her face with the tips of his fingers she noticed her bruises were healing; they were no longer painful to touch. The internal gashes were turning into dull aching scars already – the best she could have hoped for.
His face was only a couple of inches from hers and a fear of the unknown washed over her. "Henrik," she warned quietly. Despite the fear, though, her hand was already on the back of his neck, her fingers in his hair. Her breath hitched slightly when his lips touched hers. "Is this my birthday kiss?" she whispered.
"Yes."
He kissed her again. She pulled him in this time, kissing him with all she had. All the pain, all the fear, all the happiness, all the passion she had left in her. It wasn't much, and nothing compared to what he had done for her, but he didn't seem to care. He just kissed her, his arms around her as he held her tight.
She could hear his heavy breathing and felt the nervous way his lips moved against hers; she realised how strange it sounded from the man who personified calm. To hear him lose the total control he had so perfectly exercised over himself was odd.
"Happy Birthday," he said when he broke apart from her.
"Thank you," she replied, startled by the breathlessness in her voice. It had shocked her, but at the same time he had made her feel strong. She didn't need him as much as she had done a week ago, but she wanted him more. She could stand on her own but she didn't want to. She wanted him.
It amazed and frightened her that she wanted him. She wiped her lipstick from his mouth with her thumb, bringing a smirk to his lips. She laughed to hide her nerves, hoping he couldn't see through her as he had a knack for doing. She stepped away and opened the door.
Before she left, she said, "I mean it. If there's a cake waiting for me on Keller, you're a dead man walking."
Hope this is alright!
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!
Sarah x
