Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2018-08-16
Updated:
2018-09-07
Words:
4,382
Chapters:
2/?
Comments:
11
Kudos:
77
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
930

Swimming through my mind

Summary:

What if Serena and Bernie were competitive swimmers?

Notes:

This got away with me. It was supposed to be a nice short thing and it has become far too long and involved to finish this week so here is the first part. More to come!

Chapter Text

Serena had lived in Holby her whole life and for most of that life, since the age of five, she’d swum for Holby Swimming Club. She’d put in the time and effort, working her way up through the age groups, swimming just the internal swimming galas to begin with before progressing onto representing the club at regional and national galas. She swam at all the club evenings, three times a week every week. She’d even started attending the early morning swimming sessions each weekday morning when she was twelve and her coach started to discuss taking it more seriously. She was good. No one could deny that. There was barely a race that, having entered, she hadn’t won, sometimes by multiple lengths.

Her only real competition was another swimmer of the same age. Berenice Wolfe was the only person Serena had lost a race to since the age of ten. She lived down in London, so they only crossed over at national galas. Serena knew very little about her except for the fact that she was a brilliant swimmer. She wasn’t one for talking and had rebuffed Serena’s efforts at making conversation when they were waiting for their races. Berenice’s headphones were always firmly on her ears until the last possible second and returned to their place as soon as she was out of the water and dry. She never stuck around for any of the parties held at the end of galas and no one Serena had ever spoken to knew anything about her.

But oh how Serena wanted to find out about her. She wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was something to do with those long, toned legs that stuck out from under her swimming costume. Maybe it was the beautiful blonde curls forever escaping from her swimming cap. Or maybe it was nothing to do with her looks, because why would Serena care about that? Maybe it was just simple curiosity.

So when her coach received a call about the England Development Squad and would Serena be interested in joining, her response had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Berenice Wolfe may also have received that same call. Initially, it just meant more training, travelling the short distance to Bath to attend weekend training camps and having coaches come to her home pool as well. It was hard work but very rewarding. Serena heard rumours that Berenice Wolfe was under the same program in London and that she was impressing everyone with her skill and her focus. It just made Serena work harder, hoping against hope that one day Berenice might talk to her.

There was a week-long camp for all the swimmers in Germany. Serena had been part of the program for a few years now and she knew many of the others going. She waved off the concerns of her parents as she boarded the plane alone for the first time. She was 16 now, practically an adult. And anyway, she was going to be met off the plane on the other end.

Serena felt a shiver run through her body as she walked through into arrivals and spotted a very familiar shock of blonde curls in front of her. Wearing a matching tracksuit, Berenice Wolfe walked ahead of her towards the sign reading “Team England Swimmers”. She hadn’t known if Berenice was coming on this camp, had hoped she was but no one seemed to know. Over the years she had learnt that it was nothing personal that Berenice didn’t talk to her, she didn’t talk to anyone. Even the other swimmers from London who had been training and racing with her for years knew very little about her. There were rumours, of course. Some of them seemed sensible, that Berenice’s father was in the military and Berenice had intentions of following in his footsteps if swimming didn’t work out. Others seemed a little far-fetched, that Berenice didn’t speak to anyone because she was forbidden to by a man she had been betrothed to since birth. Serena wasn’t stupid. She knew how to sort out facts from fiction. The problem was that there were so few facts.

Room assignments were on a piece of paper stuck up in the hall of the guesthouse they were staying in. Serena crossed her fingers but found herself sharing with a pleasant girl called Florence from Newcastle. Berenice was in the next room over but when Serena tried to get the gossip from her roommate, she discovered that Berenice had barely said a word to her and had her head in a book whenever they weren’t swimming.

Still, Serena threw herself into the week, relishing the chance to race against the best that England had to offer. It was refreshing to not be the best swimmer in the pool. She had to work hard, really hard, in order to keep up. And some of the swimmers were younger than her.

The week ended with a barbeque in the gardens, celebrating the achievements of all the swimmers. Serena’s legs and arms ached but her muscles felt lean and long. She happily ate the burgers on offer and drank cans of coke while sitting on a bench with Florence who had turned out to be great fun. Florence was talking about her boyfriend back home in Newcastle. Serena wondered when Florence had had time to find herself a boyfriend. What with swimming sessions before and after school, and attending an all-girls school, the only boys Serena had ever met were swimmers themselves and she found that having seen them practically naked already, they held little appeal.

She noticed Berenice watching her from across the garden and she held up a hand to wave at her. Berenice dipped her head for a moment but then brought her eyes back up and smiled a tiny smile at Serena. Serena grinned back, pleased for the first time to have made somewhat of an impression on Berenice Wolfe.

“Who are you smiling at?” Florence asked.

“Oh, just Berenice,” Serena said, pointing to the other side of the garden.

This seemed to spook Berenice and she jumped up and ran inside.

“I wouldn’t smile at her if I was you, she’ll think you’re interested,” Florence said, a note of disgust in her voice.

“Interested?” Serena questioned, unsure of Florence’s meaning.

“Like interested in her. She’s a lesbian you know. Ugh, I don’t know why they let her swim with us. Don’t they know that she just spends the whole time perving on us in our swimming costumes?”

And that was a fact about Berenice that had never made its way to Serena. If it was a fact that is. It rattled around in Serena’s head all that night, their last night in Germany. Berenice was a lesbian? So she liked girls? And she’d smiled at Serena. Did that mean she liked Serena? Did Serena want to be liked by her? And why, after all these years, was she still obsessing over Berenice Wolfe?

It was with big bags under her eyes that Serena said goodbye to her friends and boarded the plane back to Holby International. She wished she’d stood up for Berenice last night, wished she’d said something. So what if Berenice was a lesbian, there wasn’t anything wrong with that. She also wished she’d had a chance to speak to Berenice last night. She’d knocked on her door when she went inside but there was no answer. She didn’t know if that was because Berenice was asleep, out or just ignoring her. Her roommate Tina was still outside, flirting with the boys around the barbeque. In the end Serena had shoved a note under the door with her name and number on it. There had been no response from Berenice yet and when she got up for breakfast in the morning she found out that Berenice had already left, her flight back to London much earlier than Serena’s.

Berenice had not phoned or texted her and Serena had to assume that either she hadn’t found the note, or she had and she didn’t want to contact her. It shouldn’t have mattered. She was back home, back in her usual routine and back with her friends. A level exams were coming up so as well as all the training, Serena had a huge amount of revision to do. There was no time for worrying about why a girl that had smiled at her just once wasn’t contacting her. And yet that was precisely what Serena was doing. Her parents began to worry about her. She’d sat through many talks now about how important it was that she got her A levels. How even if she did make the Olympic team for swimming, she’d be glad of the back up plan. How she didn’t have to go to university straight away but she was so bright, so clever so it couldn’t be ruled out as an option. And the thing was Serena agreed with them. Her previous plan had been to get her A levels, then take a year out to concentrate on her swimming before applying for uni. Plenty of people managed to swim while completing their degrees and she knew she was capable of it. If only she could get the grades now.

But thoughts of Berenice wouldn’t leave her head. It became increasingly difficult to think about anything else. Her grades began to slip at school and her swimming suffered as well. Her coach started talking about reducing expectations and hitting a wall. She knew what he was saying. He was trying to tell her, in the nicest possible way, that she needed to start improving or she would have no chance of taking her swimming further.

It was this in the end that brought her motivation back, if in a roundabout kind of way. She had to keep swimming, had to stay on the development squad, because otherwise she would have no chance of seeing Berenice. She knew nothing else about her. She had no way of contacting her. So she needed to be invited to the next whole country training session or she would quite literally never see her again. And that was not a possible outcome she was willing to consider. So she pushed herself harder than before, harder than ever. And the results soon showed. Her personal bests started improving again, particularly her breaststroke, and the smile on her coaches face returned. Her grades at school went back up, the motivation in one area of her live affecting other areas as well, and her life began to feel much more on track.

Chapter Text

There was a Europe-wide competition held in Denmark that winter. Serena was asked to represent the country in breaststroke. She squealed down the phone when her coach rang her to tell her. She knew that she was the fourth pick but it didn’t matter, this meant the big time. The competition would be on tv and everything. People would hear her name and watch her swim. And even better than that, when the list of the other competitors came through, Serena noticed the name Berenice Wolfe down to swim the freestyle.

The whole team travelled to London in order to fly to Copenhagen together. They stayed the night before in a hotel in the airport with most of the team taking over a section of the bar. Serena was a bit starstruck, surrounded by swimmers who she’d watched race in international competitions all over the world. These were the people she wanted to be in a couple of years’ time. This was the proof that hard work could pay off. She sipped her coke, no alcohol allowed before a competition, and tried to stop herself from constantly glancing around the room in an attempt to spot Berenice. A couple of the other swimmers came and chatted to her, interested to get to know the new faces on the team, and she quickly got swept up in talk of swimming and swimmers, comparing different people from other countries that they knew they would have to race against. Berenice never appeared.

Berenice was there the next morning though when Serena came down to breakfast. She was sat with a huge mound of hot, buttery toast and a large mug of coffee in front of her. Serena chose some cereal from the selection, got herself a cup of coffee and went to join her. Berenice’s ever present headphones were firmly in place but after a couple of minutes, she reached up and lifted them off.

“Hi,” she said shyly, “You’re Serena right?”

Serena nodded. Berenice remembered her name? That was something right?

“Yeah.”

Serena couldn’t think of anything else to say. She’d wanted to speak to Berenice for so many years and now, given a perfect opportunity, she had no words.

“This your first international?” Berenice asked.

“Yes. Yours?”

Berenice nodded.

They lapsed into silence again. Berenice reached to put on her headphones.

“What are you listening to?” Serena asked, trying to stall her until she came up with a better topic of conversation.

“Oh.” Berenice blushed. “It’s an audiobook.”

That hadn’t been what Serena was expecting. “What’s the title?”

Berenice blushed a little more. “The Paying Guests,” she whispered.

Serena smiled. “By Sarah Waters? I read it just last month. What do you think?”

Berenice stared at her. “You’ve read Sarah Waters?” she asked incredulously.

“I had them recommended to me by a friend. They’re great aren’t they? I think Tipping the Velvet is my favourite.”

The friend in question was the only one of her school friends that she had confided in about Berenice. One weekend over the summer holidays they happened to go into town when Holby Pride was on. Serena stood, amazed by the brightly coloured flags and the people out celebrating, so happy and in love, and she began to think over her Berenice Wolfe obsession. Her friend had realised quickly that something was up and had pulled her aside. Serena had just told her the whole sorry story straight out and her friend had hugged her tightly before dragging her into the library. Serena had been briefly confused before her friend had pointed out the LGBT book display and suggested that Serena read one or two of them while thinking about how she felt about Berenice.

Berenice stared at the table for a long time. “I liked Fingersmith,” she said eventually. “It was clever.”

“Yes. I definitely didn’t see that twist coming,” Serena said.

Berenice’s eyes lifted up from the table. Serena held her gaze for a moment, smiling gently. Berenice smiled back. She looked beautiful when she smiled.

“Have you seen the BBC adaptation?” Serena asked.

Berenice nodded.

Just then Berenice’s phone started to ring. She jumped and stared at it before picking it up.

“My parents,” she said to Serena in apology before answering the phone and running from the room, breakfast half eaten.

Serena leant back in her chair. As first conversations go, that was enlightening. Judging by Berenice’s choice in listening material, and her obvious embarrassment about it, Serena deduced that those rumours about her being a lesbian were probably correct. And her own reading over the last few months had let Serena determine that, while she wasn’t sure quite which label fitted her yet, she definitely liked girls. Well Berenice anyway.

They ended up sitting next to each other on the plane over to Copenhagen. It was a short flight and Berenice had her headphones on most of the time but she kept glancing over at Serena and smiling. Serena had her own book to read, not that she could concentrate with Berenice sitting so close to her.

They stayed for the competition in university accommodation, empty due to the Christmas holidays that had just begun. The rooms were grouped into flats with a communal area in the middle. Serena had crossed her fingers in the hope that she would get to share with Berenice but there was no such luck. They were at least in the same flat, their rooms across the corridor from each other. Berenice was sharing with another girl about their age and Serena had somehow managed to avoid getting assigned a roommate. She wondered if it was something to do with her age. There were so few under 18s at the competition and rules didn’t usually allow them to share with anyone older.

That first day they had a few hours to sort themselves out and unpack before they were all called down to the pool for training. With all the different countries there, they could only practice at certain times of day. They had a couple of hours getting a feel for the new pool before they were free. Some of the older swimmers asked Serena if she wanted to come exploring with them. She looked over at Berenice and was about to ask her to come when Berenice shook her head. She smiled sadly at her but followed the others anyway.

It turned out that Copenhagen was beautiful, even in the bitter December weather. They wandered up medieval streets past beautiful buildings. They ended up by the water and decided to take a boat tour around the harbours and canals. Out on the water, it was even colder but the high spirits of the swimmers, plus their warm coats, kept them warm. Back on dry land, they ducked into a coffee shop for warm drinks. Serena hugged the mug of coffee and felt the feeling return to her hands.

Serena didn’t see or hear from Berenice for the rest of that day. Meals were served canteen style and so she must have eaten before Serena and the rest of the group returned that evening. Berenice’s bedroom door was firmly shut when Serena got back to the flat and, as it was late, she decided just to go straight to bed. She’d need her sleep so she was ready for the heats in a couple of days.

She had no idea what time it was when she woke. It was still pitch black outside and for a moment she didn’t know what had woken her. Then there came a quiet tap at the door. Wearily, she pulled herself out of bed and opened the door.

“Berenice!”

Berenice looked sheepish. She was dressed in flannel pyjamas and had a blanket over her shoulders.

“I’m sorry to wake you Serena,” she said in a quiet voice.  “But my roommate is snoring quite loudly so I was wondering if I could use your spare bed to get a few hours’ sleep?”

Serena blushed and stepped aside so that Berenice could see into the room she’d been assigned. It was the same size as the one that Berenice had but, instead of two twin beds against the walls, there was just one bed, a double, right in the middle of the room.

“Oh,” Berenice breathed. “Never mind.”

She turned to go.

Serena had a split second to make a decision. She shot out an arm to stop Berenice leaving.

“Wait.”

Berenice turned to look at her, confused.

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” Serena said.

Berenice paused for a moment before nodding. “Ok.”

Serena pushed the door shut behind them and Berenice followed her towards the bed. They both slipped under the covers.

“Goodnight,” Serena whispered. There was no response from Berenice. Serena soon drifted off to sleep again, comforted by the gentle breathing sounds coming from Berenice.

Serena woke to an empty bed. She wondered for a moment where Berenice had gone but assumed she’d just headed down to breakfast. She pulled on a tracksuit and headed that way herself. There was no Berenice in the canteen but her roommate, Ruth, said that she was in their room. Serena’s phone beeped as she was eating. She picked it up.

Thanks for last night. Bernie

It took her a moment to figure out who Bernie was. Then it clicked. Bernie was Berenice. She must have found the note Serena had left in Germany after all.

Not a problem. You are welcome anytime. I didn’t know you shortened your name. Serena x

Berenice is a mouthful. I hate it. B x

Every single person she’d ever heard speak to Bernie had called her Berenice. Poor, shy Bernie must be too nervous to tell them any different.

I’ll never let it pass my lips again. S x

Thanks. See you at the pool later? B x

Of course. S x

Serena ate breakfast and then made her way to the university gym. They all had use of it for the duration of their stay. She did a gentle work out, not wanting to wear out her muscles before the races started, and then headed back to the flat to shower. Bernie’s bedroom door was shut but she found Ruth in the communal area watching the news on the tv.

“It’s the only thing I can find in English,” Ruth commented as Serena sat down on one of the chairs near her.

“Bernie not around?” she asked, towelling dry her hair.

Ruth nodded her head towards the bedroom. “She’s in there with her headphones on. Strange little thing isn’t she?”

Bernie was there at the poolside when Serena arrived later that day. Serena let herself slide into the crowd right next to Bernie as they listened to their coach. They ended up in lanes next to each other, swimming laps. Serena marvelled at the fluid-like tumble turns that Bernie was executing, trying to keep her mind on her own technique but often failing.

They climbed out of the pool together and headed for the showers. Serena closed her eyes under the flow and washed the chlorine off her body. She opened her eyes to find Bernie next to her, staring at her. Bernie’s cheeks blushed bright red when she noticed that Serena’s eyes had opened and she looked away immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

Serena reached out a hand and touched Bernie’s arm. “It’s ok Bernie. Really.”

Bernie turned her head back and looked into Serena’s eyes. They stood there, the flow of the water washing over them, for a brief moment, before they were interrupted by some of their other teammates hitting the showers. Serena dropped her hand and reached for the shampoo instead. Bernie turned her body away from Serena’s to find her own shampoo.

They sat next to each other at dinner that evening. Bernie had been sat at a table tucked away in the corner when Serena arrived. She grabbed a tray of food and walked over to her.

“Mind if I join you,” she asked.

Bernie removed her headphones waved her hand at the empty chairs. Serena took that as invitation enough and sat in the one right next to Bernie.

Once over her shyness, Bernie was an adequate conversationalist. They chatted about school and family and swimming. Bernie was, like Serena, still persevering with her A levels despite some pressure to give them up and concentrate purely on her swimming.

“I want to go to uni though,” Bernie admitted, “I want to get out of my parents’ house for good and go somewhere different.”

“Do you not get on with your parents?” Serena asked.

“Yes and no,” Bernie replied, “I love them, really I do, and I know that deep down they love me but they don’t always approve of me. That’s why they are always phoning me up. Wondering whether I’m behaving myself.”

Serena looked at her, slightly bemused. “But you’re the best behaved person on this trip! Whatever do they think you’re going to do?”

Bernie blushed and looked down at the table.

Serena softened. “You don’t have to tell me.”

There was a pause. Serena stayed silent, waiting for Bernie to move or speak. Then she did, in a tiny, scared voice.

“It was on one of those stroke camps last year. Just a few days away in Sheffield. There was a girl, Alex, and we were friends.”

Bernie paused again. She glanced up at Serena. Serena smiled gently at her, encouraging her to continue with the story.

“One night we snuck out of the accommodation and into town. We tried to get into a bar but we didn’t have a fake ID so we couldn’t. We ended up in a park instead, on a bench. It was cold so Alex put her arm around me to keep me warm.”

Bernie’s voice had quietened to a whisper. Serena had to lean in to hear her properly.

“It was nice, sat there together. I think I told her. Then she just leant down and kissed me. And I kissed her back. And that was when one of the coaches found us. Apparently they’d been out searching for ages. They were so mad that we’d snuck out that they phoned our parents to come and collect us the next day. And when my parents turned up, someone, I’m not even sure who, mentioned that me and Alex had been kissing. My parents didn’t say anything then but once we got home, after hours of pointed silence in the car, my dad pulled me aside and told me that he understood sneaking out, that it was a teenager’s right to do that, but that he would never, ever understand why I felt the need to kiss another girl.”

“Oh Bernie.” Serena couldn’t help but reach out across the table and take Bernie’s hand.

“It’s ok,” Bernie said, rubbing away a tear that had escaped. “He never said anything else. In fact both of my parents have avoided the topic ever since. I’m sure many people have it worse than that.”

Serena squeezed her hand. “It’s still not nice though Bernie. I’m so sorry.”

Bernie smiled sadly. “It took a lot of persuading to get them to let me come here.”

“I’m so glad you did.”

Serena got ready for bed on her own. She was just about to climb into bed when there was a quiet knock on the door. She couldn’t help but grin as she opened the door to Bernie, stood there in her pyjamas.

“Do you mind?” Bernie asked.

“Not at all. I was hoping you might be back.”