A/N: Hi, my dear readers! I have to say I absolutely love this pair, they were incredible in the series. I just hope I managed to do them justice! Please let me know what you thought of my work. Even if you didn't like it. If you tell me why, you might like the next story I write. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. As are reviews. Both may even be rewarded with cookies!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, there'd be a fifth season coming.

1

The room was dark when Nikola entered it. That came as no surprise; he had blown out the candles before he left and there was by now nothing left of the roaring fire, not even smoldering embers. It was, after all, nearly eleven in the evening already.

He walked towards the fireplace, picked up some wood and set about trying to bring new life to the dead fire.

"Honestly, central heating would be preferable," he muttered to himself as he watched the dry wood being licked by the flames he had just created.

It wasn't that Nikola didn't enjoy the romantic, homely setting the fire created; he simply didn't like having to tend to it. He preferred being able to let his mind roam without having to worry about going cold. Not that he had really known cold after the Source Blood; it was more of a leftover from the years that he had been susceptible to the cold.

But tonight, he would not allow his mind to roam freely. He had been preoccupied by a certain woman these last few weeks, even more so than normally. He wanted to read and take his mind off of her so that he could stop tormenting himself with the images of what would never be.

As he sat down on the sofa and reached for the book he had left on the small table, he noticed there was a letter laying on top of the cover. A letter bearing the name of the very woman he was trying not to think about. Helen Magnus.

"Really, life is not fair at all," he groaned whilst picking the letter up.

He turned it over in his hands a few times, trying to figure out whether it would be a good idea to read it. Helen obviously had something to say and it might be important. On the other hand, she would have spoken to him personally if this was important, would she not?

The vampire sighed; he should read the letter. He would be seeing Helen tomorrow and she might ask him about it. And it would not do to have to admit that he had no clue as to what the content was.

With his eyes closed, he opened the envelope. When he finally looked at the letter, the first sentence immediately made it impossible to tear his eyes away from it.

My dearest Nikola,

time has gone by so fast for us lately. For all of us. There has barely been any chance to breathe with everything that happened. The difficult decisions that needed to be made prevented us from getting much sleep, we were all focusing on trying to protect the Sanctuary.

But despite the rapid passing of time we have all learned something important during these last few months. James learned to accept his mortality before he passed away; Clara learned to embrace her powers with Will's help; Will learned that living without opening your heart to others is impossible; Henry learned that being a HAP does have its advantages; Kate learned being part of the good side has its perks; John finally managed to get a handle on his condition, with your help; I learned to live without my father and am beginning to see that I can live on without my daughter as long as I remember she will always be in my heart.

But what have you learned, I wonder? I must admit I overheard your conversation with William a while back. Or rather, the part of the conversation concerning love. You said that you recognize love for what it is: an irrational, self-destructive impulse which is disguised as joy.

Is that what you learned? If it is, I am sad to hear it. You see, I still believe in love, Nikola. Despite my experience with John I still believe love is so much more than something that ultimately leads to pain. Ashley taught me that. The way she loved me, the way she loved Henry from the second she laid eyes on him, it all reminded me that love can heal. That it can lead to great joy.

Which is why I am writing this letter to you. You said you love me, that you have done so since we met in Oxford. I wanted to tell you that I feel the same way about you. I closed off my heart after John broke it and after having to bury so many people that I care about. But that stops now. I am taking this chance. The only question, Nikola, is whether you will accept my offer. My offer to be with me, to be the other half of me. To let me be with you, to let me be the other half of you.

Take your time in making your decision. Seek me or anyone else out should you desire to talk about this. I will be waiting.

Yours if you will have me,

your Helen.

Despite not usually being overly emotional, Nikola felt the slight burning of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. For a century he had wished to hear Helen say these words to him, to tell him that she loved him. And now she had, even if she hadn't spoken the words exactly.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was out of the sofa. He needed to be with Helen, he needed to tell her that he loved her again and hear her repeat those words to him. He was done waiting. If it hadn't been for Druitt he would have spoken up at Oxford, he had lost so many years already.

In less than a second he had made it into the hallway. Trusting his instinct, he walked towards the corner on the left hand side of the corridor. Helen would most likely be in her rooms; it was late already, and she could usually be found working on her laptop in her bed at this time of night. It was her way of preventing Will Zimmerman from complaining that she did not take enough rest.

However, his journey was not quite as uneventful as he would have liked. As he turned the corner, he collided with Henry. The HAP groaned almost inaudibly at the harsh contact, the vampire gritted his teeth to keep from doing the same. Although in his case it had nothing to do with discomfort and everything with annoyance.

"Do watch where you're going," Nikola eventually managed to bring out, barely succeeding in sounding somewhat polite.

"Will do," Henry said breathlessly. "Jeez, you are one hard man to run into. Don't want that to happen every again."

Nikola couldn't help it. He laughed at Henry's words. The younger man looked at him, one of his eyebrows raised so high it almost reached his hairline. Nikola shook his head.

"No one ever said that to me before," he grinned. "I'll remember it. Now, I'll be off. And don't worry, Henry; it was as much my fault as it was yours. I wasn't looking where I was going either."

He felt Henry's eyes burn holes into the back on his head when he brushed past him and disappeared down the hallway. He knew he had acted out of sort just now, that Henry had been expecting at least a reprimand for being that friendly towards him. But the truth was, most of his annoyance was merely a façade put in place not to let people get too close. And he did like Henry, he was intelligent and sweet. Not that he would ever tell the Hyper Accelerated Protean that, of course.

The trip to Helen's rooms did not take him long after that. Had he been in any less of a good mood, Nikola would have marveled at how ironic it was that time had seemingly sped up now after passing by so slowly when he thought she could never love him. As it was, the irony was lost on him.

He knocked on the door, his heart beating nervously above the millions of butterflies that were dancing around in his stomach.

"Come in," came Helen's voice from inside.

The smell of her was everywhere when he entered. It was always difficult not to reach out and touch her when he was near her because of it, a mixture of roses and Helen herself. Here, it was even more powerful, strong enough to make him lightheaded.

He shook his head to clear it and noticed she was not in her living room. He called out to let her know who was there.

"Helen, it's me. I've read your letter," he informed her.

All was silent for the space of a heartbeat. Then, he heard her rise from her bed and begin to move through her bedroom.

"I'll be there in a second. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime," she told him through the still closed door.

Nikola unceremoniously dropped down on the couch. The blanket draped over the side indicated that she had recently spent the night in front of the fire, which reminded him of nights long past. Nights filled with conversations about science, John Druitt and dreams of the future.

He had no more time to dwell on those thoughts further, because Helen appeared. She was wearing a comfortable top and sweater above a comfortable pajama bottom. Why she wasn't wearing the matching upper part was a mystery to Nikola, yet he did not ask her. There were more important questions to ask.

"We need to talk," she said without introduction or hesitation.

"Indeed we do," he agreed, taking the liberty to gesture towards the empty space at his right side.

Smiling, Helen sat down beside him. Whether it was voluntarily or subconsciously, her hand settled so close to his that he could feel the heat of it. Immediately, his instincts told him to take it between his, to hold onto it whilst they had this conversation. Yet he refrained; he needed to concentrate, and if he was touching any part of her he would not be able to do that.

"Where would you like to start?" Helen asked him.

"Would you have said anything if the situation had been any different? If Ashley and James were still alive?" he questioned, his voice soft and un-judging.

Her answer was fast; there was no hesitation before she spoke, the words tumbling from her lips without any difficulty whatsoever.

"Yes," she said. "I love you. At first I denied it because I was to marry John, but I soon realized I would not be able to fight the attraction between us forever. For a century, though, I succeeded, unexpectedly. Albeit barely. Now, John is gone. I have found my peace with the past. And with you holding me as I cried after Ashley's memorial service, I remembered something she said when she was only fifteen."

Nikola listened attentively. Helen was being more open than she had ever been, she was showing him a tremendous amount of trust. He would not betray that trust, not this time. He would not be a fool again.

"She asked me whether I would ever fall in love again. I told her I probably would, but that even after all those years I was still hurting over her father's death. She cocked her head at me then and said that she hoped I would find you again, as she had noticed I was always staring at that ridiculously old picture of you I have when I thought no one was looking," Helen said.

Nikola smiled at that, allowing his fingers to lightly curl around hers. He knew which picture she was speaking of, the one taken by her on a sunny day in a deserted part of a Norwegian forest.

"I still have your picture, too," he admitted. "I always carried it with me wherever I went. It made me feel a little less lost on my journeys."

Helen intertwined their fingers at his words, blushing a little. It was a sight seldom seen and Nikola enjoyed it immensely. It reminded him of days long past, days spent in the parks and gardens of London.

Before he had the time to think on that any longer, Helen rested her head against his shoulder. Instinctively, his arm snaked around her to hold her protectively. His hand came to lightly rest over her abdomen. The sigh she breathed told him she was as pleased as he was with the change in their relationship.

"I love you, Nikola Tesla," she whispered.

Nikola lifted his free hand to tilt her face to his and bent his head towards hers. It was testimony to how much she trusted the vampire that her eyes did not open.

"I love you, too, Helen Magnus," he breathed against her lips before capturing them in a gentle kiss.

When they parted, she opened her eyes. They were twinkling with happiness, as his undoubtedly were as well. He brushed his thumb over Helen's bottom lip, still not quite believing he was finally holding her.

"We should go to bed," she murmured, tugging at his hand and trying to get off the couch.

Nikola felt a small, painful tug at his heart at that suggestion. Now that they had finally come together after all these long, lonesome years, he was unwilling to let go of her this quickly again.

But he stood up anyway, letting her pull him to his feet. There was no point in staying if she was too tired. He would, of course, like to watch her sleep should she permit it. But he was not sure she would be able to sleep at all with anyone in the room with her, not after what John and so much time spent alone had done to her.

He was, to say the least, very surprised when she did not lead him to the door of her rooms but tugged him along through the door of her bedroom.

"Helen, what are you doing?" he asked, not even attempting to mask his confusion.

"I'm going to bed. It is eleven thirty already and it has been a long day. And I was hoping you would be joining me," she told him.

He stopped dead in his tracks. She turned around, letting go of his hand as she did so. She made up for it by taking the few steps necessary to bridge the distance between them. He rested his hands on her waist.

"I was not proposing to make love, Nikola. I was merely suggested you hold me while we sleep. I am tired of falling asleep and waking up alone. And there is no one else I would rather have in my bed than you," she admitted.

He relaxed. He knew it was a ridiculous thought after their one hundred year flirt, but he did not want to pressure her into taking things too quickly.

"I like that idea. However, there is one problem. You are dressed for bed. I am not. And unless you want me to sleep in my underwear, you will have to let go of me so I can collect a pair of pajamas," he told her.

For the second time that evening, the great Helen Magnus could not fight the blush appearing on her cheeks. She averted her eyes, which told Nikola she was a little ashamed of what she was about to say.

"There's two pairs of your pajamas on the top shelf of the right hand side of my closet. I found them in the laundry a couple of weeks ago, and even despite having been washed, they smelled like you. I've been sleeping in one of those t-shirts since that day," she admitted.

Nikola couldn't help it. He laughed at that. Before she could think he was laughing at her, she pulled her as close to him as was physically possible and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I'll use the second set, then," he said. "And feel free to use whatever t-shirt of mine you'd like. Or make that whatever piece of clothing of mine. I like the thought of you wearing my clothing, however strange that may sound."

Helen smiled at those last words, shaking her head.

"It is not strange, Nikola. Your sense of smell might not be as good as, for example, Henry's, but you do smell things a little better than a human. You would be able to catch my sent in your clothing and thus feel closer to me," she said.

They fell silent then, Helen motioning him towards the closet as she finally let go of him to walk over to the other side of the room. He stood motionless for a second, watching as she bent down and picked up a hastily discarded green t-shirt.

Without caring that he was there, Helen lifted her arms to take of the pullover she was wearing. Nikola decided he had done enough staring for one night right before she was to reveal her bra and simply turned to the closet to slip into his pajamas. There would be more than enough time to discover what Helen wore beneath her clothes.

Once they were both finished, Helen turned towards him and held out her hand. He walked over to where she was standing beside the bed and took it.

"Go on, get in," he gently ordered.

She did as she was told, which was as rare as the blushing he had seen her do before. As soon as she was settled, he slipped in behind her. He tugged her flush against him, planning on burying his nose in her soft, brown curls and holding her like that the entire night.

Helen, however, had other plans. She turned around, swinging her leg over his hip and resting her head on his arm as if it was a pillow. With the comforters tucked around them, it was warm and comfortable. Their own little fortress.

"Good night, my dear," he whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Good night to you too, darling," she whispered in return, reaching up to touch her lips to his cheek.

After that, they did no longer speak. They simply held each other and slept, content to be close to each other and begin their life together.