i’ve never seen/read charlie and the chocolate factory so here is a chocolatier au instead? sorry bb!
--
It takes Pippa six months to gather enough courage to actually walk into the chocolate shop. She passes by it every day on her way to class, sees the outline of Hecate in the window - still tall, still slim, still dressed all in black, her hair done up in a bun. Still beautiful, the way she’s always been, but they’re older now, and Pippa knows despite her best intentions, distance has only made her heart grow fonder.
She has a million questions - how Hecate ended up here, in the little French village where she’s been studying abroad. How she got into confectionery, of all things. Whether this is all just happenstance or coincidence or fate. Whether there’s some divine intervention screaming at her to take this chance, to go in, to find out how and when and why. Why she left. Why she disappeared. Why she broke Pippa’s heart.
Every day, she passes by, smells the rich cocoa and sugar, and her mouth waters. Somedays, she pauses by the window and stares. Somedays, the older woman who runs the shop smiles at her from the window, and beckons her inside. It takes her six months, but one bright day, the older woman smiles, and holds up a piece of chocolate - a truffle, or a biscuit, she isn’t sure - and Pippa takes a deep breath. Opens the door. Walks inside.
It’s cool and clean and smells so good. The older woman smiles. “I was wondering when you might come in,” she says, and Pippa nods.
“Actually,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady. “I was hoping I might speak to your assistant?”
The woman smirks, like she knows. “I’m certain she’d quite like to speak to you, too,” she says, calls back into the shop in French - Pippa pieces some of it together, but her accent is heavy and Pippa’s brain is short circuiting, her heart trembling, throat dry as there’s a shuffle in the back room, a soft voice, and then—
She comes out from behind the counter. Smiles shyly at Pippa. Holds out her hand.
Pippa stares. Heart stalls.
It isn’t her.
Isn’t Hecate.
The girl is tall and slim and dressed in black and beautiful but it isn’t Hecate, has never been Hecate, and Pippa feels all the color drain from her cheeks, feels light headed and weak and she barely manages to stammer her apologies before she flees.
She finds a new route home, one that doesn’t smell as sweet.
honestly, probably you left me in the dark. it’s not finished yet but it’s the longest thing i’ve ever written and even though it’s taking me ages, i’m still really enjoying it. i’ve been trying to give each character and pairing a rounded story and do them justice n stuff!
+ an Anon asked: “Don’t you dare!” (If I combine them, I get to write ten sentences, right????)
“Don’t you dare!”
Pippa is making a beeline for the open, rain-soaked courtyard, Hecate’s hand grasped tightly in her own. At the command, Pippa releases Hecate’s hand; grins a challenge, and backs out into the rain with a squeal of delight.
“You’re mad,” Hecate insists, but Pippa only laughs--spins round and round in the pouring rain with her arms splayed out to the side.
“It’s just a bit of rain, Hiccup,” Pippa taunts breathlessly, laughing again as she fixes her gaze on Hecate’s bemused expression for just a moment. “I think I’m about to lose my balance, by the way; are you going to catch me?”
“Pippa--” Hecate argues too late; Pippa draws her arms into her chest and goes spinning all the faster, grass slick beneath her toes.
Hecate appears out of the ether at her side to catch her up as she loses her balance, but Pippa’s momentum is too great, the earth beneath their feet too slippery, and they go tumbling to the ground together with a collective ‘Oof’. Pippa takes the brunt of the fall, somehow manages to keep laughing when she does it.
And then she’s on top of a stunned Hecate, bodies pressed warm and wet and close, mouths hot and searching, and suddenly, quite suddenly, Hecate thinks she does not so much mind the dark skies above them or the wet grass below; she slides a hand up to Pippa’s neck instead, thumb teasing the edge of her jaw, slips the other arm around her, pulling her closer still, and parts her lips for Pippas insistent, searching tongue.
our universe is not this one; i can live with that (but i cannot bear it)
Inone universe they are the best of friends. Bernie does not fall head overheels, they do not kiss, Serena does not have a mid-life Sapphic revelation.They are still inseparable, are still each other’s first port of call, stilllove each other fiercely – but it is never other than platonic, in thought orin deed.
*
Inanother universe Serena had kissed agirl in Stepney. When Bernie kisses her she doesn’t panic because she hasalready acknowledged and accepted this part of herself. There is no awkwardnessor confusion, no crossed wires, no suggesting keeping things confined totheatre. Serena kisses Bernie back just as enthusiastically, when the nexttheatre team comes in looks at her with burning eyes and murmurs, ‘Later,’ withsuch wanting that Bernie moans.
*
Inanother universe Bernie is not a coward and does not run to Kyiv when Serenamentions falling in love.
Inanother she does go but Serena comes to visit her, and Bernie speeds throughher work as quickly as possible so she can come home to her.
Inyet another she runs and stays far longer than she should have, but when shefinally comes back she tells Serena she couldn’t stop thinking about her, andSerena kisses her like it’s the only thing she’s wanted to do the entire timethey were apart.
*
Inthis universe, though? In this universe Bernie comes back from Ukraine ready tobeg Serena’s forgiveness with a poorly wrapped bottle of wine and a speech shespent the entire journey writing and rewriting in her head, ready to expose herheart and confess her feelings – only to find that Serena has moved on.
It’shardly her place to complain, of course, or to comment at all really. She wasthe one who left, after all, the one who didn’t reply to Serena’s texts oremails, thereby relinquishing any stake in Serena’s love life.
Shemakes an effort to like Robbie, because Serena seems happy and he and Jason aregetting on, squashes down the longing every time she sees them together – thefeeling that that could have been me.She volunteers to work the Christmas Day shift so Serena can have it off,spends the evening with Cam and Charlotte and ignores the ache in her heartwhen Serena sends her a selfie complete with paper hat and mince pie, feels Camhug her a little tighter and is grateful he doesn’t say anything.
Timemoves on. The problem is, however much she tries, Bernie does not. She hasaccepted that they were not meant to be, takes some measure of comfort from themany worlds interpretation, from the thought that somewhere there is a versionof reality in which she wasn’t a coward and they are happy together – even ifit can’t be this reality. Serena is happy, and that’s what matters most.They’re friends still, somehow; Jason likes her and even Elinor more thantolerates her. She’s a part of Serena’s family and is allowed to love her andcare for her and see her vulnerable. It’s enough, it’s more than she deservesreally. If only her heart would get the message.
Bernieis hardly unused to unrequited love or hiding her feelings, but she allowsherself to flirt with Serena because Serena flirts with her, and that’s justhow they are; in theatre it’s like nothing has changed. But then they’ll stepout onto the ward and Robbie will be waiting in their office, will greet Serenawith a kiss and take her out for dinner, and Bernie will be left alone, fistsclenched and eyes screwed shut, her carefully constructed, calm acceptancemomentarily shaken.
Itbecomes easier, with time. And then it becomes harder again, for no discerniblereason. Bernie finds herself wondering if acceptance has an expiry date,wonders if there’s only so much of Serena she can be exposed to before she’lllose her mind. Serena goes through a rough patch with Robbie, and it takes allBernie’s willpower not to tell her to just dump him. She watches as Robbiegrovels with expensive bouquets and jewellery and dinner, as Serena forgiveshim and begins to smile more again, as they talk of moving in together. Sheforces a smile, ignores Serena’s questioning frown, hides behind her fringebecause she can’t risk Serena seeing the anguish in her eyes. Because thatwould be it, wouldn’t it – the end of there being even the slightest chance forher? But maybe it would be for the best.
‘Forgod’s sake would you just do something about it?’ Dom pleads one afternoon onthe roof. He knows, of course – she told him, had to tell someone and trustshim, but he’d probably have known anyway.
‘Ican’t. She’s happy, I’m not going to selfishly ruin that. I had my chance, Imessed it up.’
‘Isshe really, though? I mean, is she actually truly happy?’ he asks, and Berniefrowns. ‘Sure she’s happy enough, but I think maybe she’s just settling.’
Berniestares at him, eyes wide and brows knotted.
‘You’renot the only one who’s pining, Bernie,’ Dom says gently. ‘I’ve seen the way shelooks at you.’
‘Butwhat about Robbie? And why hasn’t she just said something?’
‘OhI don’t know, maybe the way you buggered off to the other side of the continentat the first mention of feelings might have something to do with it?’
‘Iwas such an idiot,’ Bernie moans, burying her face in her hands. ‘A stupid,cowardly idiot.’
‘Well,yes,’ Dom agrees, bumping his shoulder against hers. ‘But you could start beingbrave.’
Berniehas always found bravery to be fleeting, to need seizing in the instant beforeit drains away. She thinks about what Dom said as she jogs down the stairs,thinks about how Serena has looked at her and smiled at her – compares it tohow she smiles at Robbie and thinks she comes out on top. She bursts onto AAUready to do – she isn’t quite sure what, but something.
There’sa huddle of junior doctors and nurses around the nurses station, all lookingtowards the office with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Bernie’s about toask why no work is getting done despite them having a ward full of patientswhen she hear Serena’s raised voice.
‘No,Robbie, I am not retiring and movingto the bloody Cotswolds with you! I don’t know what ever gave you the idea thatthat was something I wanted.’
‘ButSerena, we could–’
‘No,’she says firmly. ‘Clearly you don’t know me at all, haven’t been listening tome all these months.’
‘Ijust thought you wanted the same thing as me.’
‘Idon’t,’ Serena says icily. ‘I think you should leave.’
‘Fine.I’ll see you later?’
‘Idon’t think so, Robbie.’
‘Youmean you’re breaking up with me – over this?’ he asks incredulously, and Berniebarely keeps from rolling her eyes as she exchanges a glance with Raf.‘Seriously, Serena?’
Itgoes quiet for a few minutes, Robbie clearly trying to convince Serena. Andthen the door opens and everyone pretends to be working as he walks out andleaves the ward.
Berniegives it a moment and then firmly orders everyone to get on, takes a deepbreath and goes into the office, closing the door behind her. Serena is sat ather desk, shaking with anger and tears; when Bernie touches her shoulder shemelts into her, allows herself to be held.
Berniejoins her and Jason for tea that evening, Serena sitting close to her andsnuggling in as they watch Mary Beard.
‘I’mjust so cross with myself, Bernie,’ she admits when Jason has gone up to hisroom. ‘I should’ve realised he wasn’t joking when he said I should retire.’
‘Hewas an idiot if he couldn’t see how much you love medicine,’ Bernie sayssoftly, squeezing her shoulder.
‘Thankyou,’ Serena smiles.
‘You’revery welcome,’ Bernie replies.
Shecan’t do anything now, she thinks. It would look opportunistic, would seem likeshe’s preying on Serena when she’s weak and vulnerable – not that Serena iseither of those things, although she is dull for a little while, cross anddisappointed with herself. Bernie plies her with coffee and treats, takes herto the cinema, cooks dinner for her and Jason, even does some of her paperworkfor her, does everything she can to make her happy. One morning she comes inwith her spark back, and Bernie is lost all over again. It’s just like before,all flirting and teasing, and Serena is so happy Bernie decides she isn’t goingto rock the boat.
‘Idiot,’Dom says frankly when she tells him. ‘Can’t you see this is exactly where you were before? It’s likeyou’ve been offered a chance to go back in time and get it right – why wouldn’tyou take it?’
ButBernie ignores him and does nothing, because what they have now is wonderful.Until Jasmine is injured and they have to fight for her life. Until they’reslumped together on the floor of the theatre and Serena says shakily that thiswas all her fault, that if she hadn’t shouted at Jasmine then she wouldn’t haveleft the ward, would have been safe.
Bernielooks at her, stunned. ‘This isn’t your fault, Serena. How could you possibly haveknown this would happen? And Jasmine thinks the world of you, thinks you’re thebest surgeon in the entire hospital.’
‘Jasminethinks Jac’s the best surgeon in the hospital,’ Serena corrects her.
‘Ok,yes,’ Bernie admits. ‘But she’s biased. I happen to think you’re an incredibledoctor though. Pretty incredible woman all round, really.’
‘Aren’tyou biased too?’ Serena asks – almost hopefully, Bernie thinks.
She’sstruck with such a strong sense of déjà vu, wonders if Serena is thinking of thefirst time they kissed too, wonders what feelings the memory stirs in her. Andthen she sees Serena’s eyes flick down to her lips and she thinks, fuck it, I can’t bear it any longer,consequences be damned.
Serenameets her halfway, grasps her gown and moans against her lips.
‘Definitelybiased,’ Bernie murmurs when they draw apart for breath, foreheads restingtogether.
Serenalaughs, opens her eyes and gazes into Bernie’s. ‘We’re going to get it rightthis time,’ she vows, fingers carding through Bernie’s hair.
‘Yes,’Bernie agrees, lips ghosting across Serena’s again, again, smiling at the feelof Serena’s smile.
‘Starting,’Serena says on her third attempt, once she’s forced herself to pull back justout of Bernie’s reach, ‘with you coming home with me tonight.’
[send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it]
