Chapter Text
It came with glitter. Sparkling, tiny, annoying glitter and equally sparkly snowflakes that unfortunately settled everywhere.
If someone would have asked Bernie what would likely be in a letter Marcus would send to her, glitter would have been very, very low on her list.
“Do you think they - have to marry?” Serena’s face was a picture, Bernie’s mirroring hers within seconds of thinking about the reasons why straight couples might feel the need to marry.
“It’s not the fifties anymore,” Bernie chides, shaking her head as if that would help her get rid of the thought of Marcus having sex with - she looks down at the invitation in her hand - Ashley. “And whatever their reasons, I wish them luck.”
Having put the card back in its envelope, Bernie tries in vain to scoop the glitter on her desk back into it. Nothing she can do about the floor. She’ll have to leave a note for the cleaners, apologising in advance.
She gets up from her chair and drops the envelope into the bin before bending down to brush at the glitter stuck to her jeans.
“What are you doing?” Serena's disbelieving tone makes her look up.
“I don’t have another pair of trousers with me and I don’t want to do rounds, trailing glitter behind me like some oversized version of Tinkerbell?”
Serena rolls her eyes at her.
“I meant the invitation. Why did you throw it away?”
“I’m hardly going to attend Marcus’s wedding, am I?”
“You could see the kids and have a meal that’s not from the ready-to-go aisle at the shop or the Thai place round your corner.”
“Stop nagging me about my eating habits!” Bernie grumbles, all too aware that there’s actually a lot one could say on that topic, very little of it positive.
Serena throws her hands up and makes an overly comical zipping motion over her mouth.
“Ridiculous,” Bernie murmurs, the warm feeling of fondness for her best friend and colleague bubbling up inside her like it does everytime Serena behaves like a dork. Which happens astonishingly often for someone who can be as businesslike and straightforward as Serena.
She’s almost out of the door when she hears her name.
“Dinner tomorrow at mine. Jason won’t be home, so I’m free to decide on what I actually want to eat and you could join me.” Serena’s smile makes another bubble of warmth pop up inside Bernie.
“I like that,” she says with a smile of her own and a nod, before finally turning towards the ward to check on their patients.
---
“I have to say that there’s definitely a distinctive difference between a home cooked meal and Sainsbury’s Tikka Masala.”
Bernie plops down on the couch with a sigh, lets herself fall against the plushy pillow at her back and stretches her arms out like she owns the place.
Serena gives her a wry smile, placing their wine glasses on the coffee table.
“Thanks for the huge vote of confidence in my cooking.”
Bernie laughs, leans forward and pulls Serena back onto the couch with her. Serena makes a surprised grunt, avoids toppling down on Bernie by mere millimetres, swatting at her in mock annoyance as soon as she catches her breath.
“No rough handling, please.”
“I’m sorry - that was definitely more forceful than I had planned,” Bernie gives her a sheepish look. “Must be all the energy due to the excellent food.”
Serena snorts, and lies back against the couch, apparently not noticing Bernie’s arm still resting behind her.
“I don’t know about you, but I feel like I have no more energy left to spend. A film, a bottle of wine, and your company. That’s enough for today.”
“Sounds like an excellent plan. You can decide on the film though, I haven’t seen most of what's available online.”
“Or you can’t remember the plotline anyways.”
The smile on Serena’s face stops Bernie from protesting too much, and so they settle down to watch ‘The Holiday’ in amicable silence, the one bottle of wine closer to two by the end of the film.
“I definitely have to get an uber,” Bernie sighs, turning towards Serena who’s snuggled into her side, apparently in search of warmth. How much a close friend could change things, Bernie muses - the thought of spending an evening like this with anyone else, even Marcus during their marriage, would have made her feel very uncomfortable only months ago. But now? Now there’s Serena and everything seems to be a bit lighter, a bit easier with her.
Serena hums in response, but doesn’t make a move to allow Bernie to get up from the couch.
“You could stay over,” she finally says with a yawn, “the guestroom is made up.”
“I’d like that,” Bernie sighs at the thought of not having to drive halfway across town to go to bed, “if I’m not too much of a bother to you?”
“You’re no bother at all,” Serena reassures her, while getting up from the couch, “I even kept your toothbrush from last time you stayed over.”
---
The next morning finds Serena already pottering around the kitchen when Bernie comes down after taking a shower, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, hair still wet. She stops short from taking the cup of coffee that’s waiting for her when she notices Marcus’s wedding invitation lying on the table.
“Serena…”
Serena turns around, looks ruefully at the envelope before looking back at Bernie, her face a mixture of remorse and defiance.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I thought I’d keep it in case you change your mind? You have to RSVP with the card and once it would have been gone-”
“I’m not going to the wedding.” Bernie’s voice is rough, bordering on upset.
“Okay, you won’t go to the wedding. Care to tell me why, though?” Serena steps towards the table, giving Bernie a searching look, unconsciously toys with the envelope, leaving a trace of glitter on the tabletop. “I think Cam and Charlotte might appreciate you making the effort. Elinor certainly did. It’s not like I attended for Edward’s sake.”
Bernie sighs and shrugs her shoulders.
“It’s daft, but honestly? I don’t want to go alone. The last time I spoke to Marcus, he told me in no uncertain words that I made a mistake and that I’ll end up alone, miserable, and unloved.”
“He’s such a wanker,” Serena huffs in response. “So don’t go alone.”
“And what exactly should I do - search for a first date on one of those apps and bring her to my ex-husbands wedding? I’m not even in the mood to date, but I feel like that would definitely be the pinnacle of awkwardness.” Serena just rolls her eyes at Bernie.
“Well, how about you take me?”
For a moment Bernie feels completely at loss for words, her mind grappling with the idea of taking Serena with her as her actual partner.
“Serena-” Bernie falters, and Serena immediately interrupts before she can list her reasons why this isn’t a good idea at all. Or, better said, the reasons she might actually tell Serena about.
“What? Have you seen the hotel they booked? I wouldn’t mind spending a weekend there. We both had a rough year and with the holidays coming up it won’t get any easier. Also we’re close enough to pull this off. Just imagine Marcus’s reaction?” Serena looks like someone told her the most excellent joke. “Pulling the wool over his eyes could actually be fun and after what he said to you, I feel like he certainly deserves it.”
“But Cam and Charlotte don’t. I’d never lie to them about my life again.” Bernie grimaces at the thought about what happened the last time she did that. “We’ve just patched things up between us. I won’t risk that.”
“I’d never make you do that.” Serena grabs Bernie’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m thrilled you’ve mended things between you and there’s no reason to risk that again.”
Bernie sighs in relief, feeling like she just got off the hook at the last moment, but then Serena continues.
“You’ll obviously have to talk to them before the wedding. It’s not like it’s tomorrow.”
Oh no.
---
As Serena’s excitement at the thought of spending some time together in a swanky hotel grows, so does Bernie’s anxiety.
It’s not that she doesn’t want to be around Serena. On the contrary, Bernie finds herself thinking about Serena more and more often of late, planning things they could do together on rare days off, missing her when she isn’t around.
Finally, the penny drops.
Bernie, currently hiding in their office under the pretence of doing some of her long neglected paperwork, sighs and buries her face in her hands. What a fool she is. How could she let this happen? Falling for her best friend, her colleague. Her very straight best friend and colleague.
“Bloody, bloody idiot,” she whispers to herself.
Imagining them pretending to be an actual item when Bernie knows it will never ever happen, makes her feel a bit nauseous. She can’t do this, can’t betray Serena like this. Poor Serena, oblivious of Bernie’s pining like a love sick fool. She’d probably be repulsed by Bernie if she knew.
Unfortunately, she knows that once Serena’s set on a course of action, there is very little that can divert her. And Serena is absolutely set on this farce. She even bought a dress for the occasion, almost succeeded in pressuring Bernie into buying something new too.
Bernie’s last hope of getting out of this whole mess are her kids. Surely they won’t agree to this harebrained plan. They will be appalled, most likely, and give her a stern lecture on being honest with herself and others.
Which will be the end of their plan, Serena and her both agreed on this.
Bernie looks at the clock. Almost time for their call.
It doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Bernie hangs up, takes her calendar out of her bag, has a look at her next day off work.
“Buy new dress,” she pencils in with a resigned sigh.