"What?" Serena looked up distractedly from her desk, chewing the end of a pen. Seeing Bernie, she smiled. "Oh, yes. Tonight. Very much so."
"Good" Bernie said, grinning a little herself. "See you about eight. And don't forget, you're bringing the wine."
As the door closed behind a retreating Bernie, Serena allowed herself a moment of nervous anticipation. She was utterly unsure of what to expect, but thrilled at the idea of an intimate meal alone with Bernie, in her big, empty, messy apartment… Thinking about their kiss again, Serena blushed furiously. It was like a schoolgirl crush of the most epic proportions, she couldn't believe she was allowing herself to fall for someone so strongly, to make it so obvious. But then again, Bernie had said afterwards it was something she'd wanted to do herself for weeks, so… Reliving the kiss again in her mind, Serena gave up all hope of getting any paperwork done so decided to head home and change before her date (her date!) with Bernie later on.
"Knock, knock!" Serena called out. The door of the terrace house was just slightly ajar when Serena arrived, and she could hear the sound of soft jazz coming from the sitting room. As she opened the door wider she could smell something Italian cooking on the stove, and something else, something she associated most particularly with Bernie, with her messy blonde hair and her scrubs, a scent which lingered in the office long after she'd left for the night. It almost made Serena moan again, and she fought down her feelings of longing to call out again.
"Only me! I've brought the shiraz, as promised." As she unwound her scarf and hung up her coat she sternly told herself that she would try to be less idiotic and lovesick this evening. It was all well and good professing her emotions in the heat of the moment, after theatre or the stress of a long day on AAU; but this was real life. She knew she needed to stop acting like this meant any more than just two adults having dinner, maybe seeing where it took them… But she was kidding herself, she knew that. It meant more than that to both of them, she was sure of it, and she could sense the longing she had suddenly found in herself was just as strong for Bernie as it was for her, and the thought was terrifying and thrilling in equal measure.
Serena swirled the last of her wine in her glass. She kept sneaking glances at Bernie as she cleared the table, desperately hoping both that she would make a move and that she wouldn't. Serena could see the two realities stretching out ahead of her, one where they shared a chaste kiss goodnight and she returned home to an empty bed, and one where she stayed, where they talked, where they… made love. It didn't feel real. She was out of her depth, and maybe it was all a mistake, was she truly cut out to be lesbian, was she good enough for Bernie… Suddenly, Bernie was right in front of her.
"Serena" she said, in a mock stern tone, cupping the other woman's face with one hand. "You're overthinking this, I can tell. If it makes you uncomfortable…"
"No!" The firmness of her own voice surprised Serena. Tentatively, she leaned forward. "No," she said again, this time more softly, in almost a whisper. She stood up, slightly unsteady with nerves and lust and all that wine, and slid her arms around Bernie's waist. "Right now, I can assure you, there is nothing I want more than this."
Bernie smiled gently, and leaned in to kiss Serena. At first it was slow, just lips, and then tongues gradually meeting and touching. Serena moaned again, and opened herself up to it; she felt her hands roam, up to Bernie's shoulders and tangling in her hair, and down, down past Bernie's waist… She could feel Bernie's hands stroking her shoulders, her stomach, and everywhere she touched Serena could feel a spreading warmth. Slowly, never pulling away, Bernie expertly slid her hand under Serena's shirt and up towards her breasts, cupping her hand over the material of her bra. Her hands were firm and warm, and a thrill ran down Serena's spine. She bit Bernie's lip, lightly, and her lover laughed with pleasure but didn't pull away, continued to roam Serena's body with her slightly roughened soldier's hands and then, gradually, her lips and her tongue. She pushed Serena back until she was pressed against the table, and as Bernie's mouth closed around her nipple Serena couldn't help but throw her head back in pleasure, fingers tangled in Bernie's hair and shirt slipping from her bare shoulders.
"Take me to bed, Bernie." Serena said huskily. Her voice sounded strange to her now, as though she could still feel Bernie's tongue in her mouth.
"Are you sure?" Bernie asked, her eyes glittering with lust but her face reserved, ever protective, always holding back.
Serena slid her hand down Bernie's flat stomach and stopped at the top of her jeans. Slowly, biting her lip in a cheeky grin, she undid the button and pulled down the zip, sliding her hand between Bernie's legs. The woman moaned softly and closed her eyes.
Leaning down to whisper in her ear, Serena said, "Ms. Wolfe, I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
