Title: Like a Thief in the Night
Author: definitely-scissory (on tumblr) ismellapplesx3 (on and AO3)
Pairing: Myka/Helena
Rating: PG-13/T
Word Count: 3,501
Summary: The seven times Helena snuck into Myka's room. (Post-4x01 through the end of 4x07.)
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of SyFy, et al. I own nothing. I profit in no way from my overactive imagination.
Author's Note: This is just something that got stuck in my head after the episode "Endless Wonder." It seems that Helena has not been held captive by the Regents, and I developed a head canon that my muse pestered me to write about. (Note: the last meeting occurs the night of HG's conversation with Artie at Leena's). Also, I'm completely ignoring the events of 4x05 ("No Pain, No Gain"). It doesn't exist in the context of this head canon. Enjoy. :)
The first time Helena snuck into Myka's room at the B&B, Myka almost shot her.
She opened the door to her darkened room, desperately in need of a shower and a good night's sleep, distracted by thoughts of the very woman sitting in the corner in the dark, waiting silently. It was the same day that they neutralized Walter Sykes with Gandhi's Dhoti. Myka had no idea what had happened to Helena afterwards. She was fearful that the regents had returned her to her "limbo prison." She had no idea of Artie's fight to have her reinstated.
She flicked on the lights and closed the door behind her. She was in the process of laying her gun on her dresser when movement from the corner caught her eye. She let out a yelp and reflex had her pointing her gun at the source of the movement.
"Really, darling, I thought we were past meeting at gunpoint," Helena's unperturbed voice washed over Myka.
"Jesus, Helena!" Myka squeaked out, lowering her gun and placing a hand over her rapidly beating heart. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Helena stood, smoothing her hands over her shirt as she strode purposefully to stand in front of Myka. She took the gun from her and set it on the dresser. "I wanted to see you," she answered.
Myka waited for Helena to elaborate, but as the seconds ticked by, it became clear she wasn't going to. Myka sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. "You didn't, like, escape the Regents' custody or anything, did you?"
Helena laughed, shaking her head. "No, darling," she reassured. "They know I'm here."
Myka nodded slowly, then advanced further into the room, tossing her leather jacket onto the foot of the bed. She faced Helena, hands on her hips. "Then why did you try and give me a heart attack by sitting in the dark?"
"I didn't want anyone else to know I'm here," Helena admitted. "I don't know what's going to happen to me, Myka. When I requested that Mr. Kosan allow me to see you before we departed, he obliged. I'm not sure if I should take that as a positive or ominous sign."
Myka didn't know either. She licked her suddenly dry lips, her shoulders sagging. "Do you think they'll let you come back?" she asked, sitting on her bed and casting her gaze downward to where her fingers idly picked at a loose thread of her comforter.
After a moment of silence, Myka looked up, taking in the sight of Helena before her. Her solemn expression belayed her uncertainty of her own future. Myka couldn't take it anymore. She jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around a surprised, but not dismayed, Helena. After a mere second pause, Helena returned the embrace.
The hug lasted well past the platonic hug timeframe, but neither woman cared or even thought twice about it.
When they reluctantly parted, several minutes later, Helena made her way back towards the open window that she'd crawled through. She paused at the window, turning back to look at Myka. "Take care, darling."
And then she was gone.
The second time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka dropped her book.
It had been 6 days since Helena's initial visit. Once again, Myka entered her dark room, distracted. She flipped on the lights, and there Helena was, sitting in that same chair. The open window allowed for the crisp air to swirl around the room.
"Fuck! Helena!" Myka cried out, dropping the book she'd been carrying.
"Such language for a lady," Helena remarked with a smirk.
Hearing someone coming up the stairs behind her, Myka quickly recovered and swung her door closed, leaning down to pick up the fallen book. When she straightened, she came face to face with Helena, who stood only a few feet in front of her. "Is sitting in the dark really necessary?" she hissed.
Helena looked taken aback and Myka regretted her harshness. She softened immediately.
"Not that I'm not glad to see you," she rushed out. "Just… god dammit, you scared me!" Without any further preamble, she closed the distance between them and pulled Helena into another fierce hug, setting her book on the foot of the bed as she did so.
This time, Helena was ready for the hug and eagerly returned it, burying her face in Myka's straightened hair. She had to remember to ask about the new hairstyle later.
Once again, the hug lasted significantly longer than the average hug, and once again, neither woman cared. But this time, instead of Helena making her escape after they pulled back, she just smiled and turned her attention to Myka's forgotten book lying on the bed. She picked it up and studied it for a moment before raising an eyebrow at Myka.
Myka felt her cheeks burn and she shrugged. "I was feeling nostalgic?" she offered. She didn't add that she'd been feel nostalgic ever since Helena's first visit nearly a week prior and had brought a different H.G. Wells' novel up to her room to read each night. Tonight's choice was Invisible Man.
Helena just smiled and leaned down to remove her boots. She then settled back onto Myka's bed, back against the headboard as Myka studied her intently, wondering what she was up to. She had to hide her smile when Helena opened the novel to the page she'd marked with a blue, un-used post-it. (Helena had to grin at this.) She began to read aloud.
Myka stood transfixed as Helena read to her. She was getting a private reading from the H.G. Wells, for crying out loud!
Helena paused after a few moments and looked up at Myka. "Are you just going to stand there, darling? I suspect you'd be far more comfortable here," she smoothed a hand over the bed next to her. There was nothing sexual about her suggestion—though neither woman would deny the raw attraction between them. This was about comfort.
Myka didn't hesitate. She kicked off her boots and laid down next to Helena on her side, facing her, as she folded her arms underneath her pillow.
Helena continued reading, reaching out to smooth her hand over Myka's hair, feeling the softness of the straight locks under her fingertips.
As Helena read, Myka felt her eyes become heavy with fatigue. It wasn't long before she'd drifted into a dreamless sleep.
When she awoke the following morning, Myka noticed that an afghan had been arranged atop her, the book had been placed upon her night stand, and the window was securely shut. Helena was, of course, nowhere to be found.
Myka sat up and ran her hand over the copy of Invisible Man. She picked it up and opened to the place where Helena had returned the post-it. Only, now, the post-it was no longer bare. On it, written in the bold letters of Helena's handwriting, was a single phrase.
I miss the curls.
The third time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka wasn't surprised.
More time had passed this time—2 weeks and 2 days—but she was ready. Every night, she entered her room hoping to catch a glimpse of the dark haired beauty. Each night, until that night, she'd been disappointed.
But not this time. This time, she opened her door, flipped on her lights, looked into the corner, and immediately broke into a smile. She shut the door and met the Victorian woman halfway, each pulling the other into a tight embrace at the same time.
"I missed you," Myka murmured.
"No as much as I have missed you, darling," Helena replied, tightening her hold.
Myka pulled back slightly to look into Helena's dark eyes. "Where have you been?" she asked, not expecting an answer.
Helena reached up and cupped Myka's cheek. "I wish I could tell you," she said, voice revealing her sincerity.
Myka nodded, not moving.
"I'm glad the curls are back," Helena said, reaching up to play with the ends of the silky curls.
"Someone special requested them," Myka replied softly, heart racing at their closeness, but unwilling to move away.
"Lucky them," Helena said, face so close to Myka's that their lips brushed.
When Myka sucked in a quick breath, but didn't pull away, Helena took that as an acquiescence to continue. She pressed her lips firmly to the taller woman's, moving her hand around to the back of her neck.
Myka gasped and fisted her hands in the thin material of Helena's shirt, holding her in place as they kissed, exploring one another's mouths for the first time.
Sometime later, Myka lay in bed, staring out the very window that Helena had climbed out just half an hour earlier, her mind going over their kiss again and again.
She'd always known there was something between them. It had taken a while for her to admit to herself that the something was attraction (and, later when she was even more honest with herself, love). But once she'd been honest with herself, she'd realized that she wasn't afraid. Not like she'd thought she'd be.
No, she wasn't afraid. But she was lonely.
The fourth time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka was already in the shower.
It had been eight days and Myka was already beginning to wonder if Helena's last visit had been her last. Had that kiss been her way of saying goodbye?
She got her answer when she walked out of her bathroom, freshly showered, hair dripping wet, and her body covered only by the cream colored towel she'd wrapped around herself after hastily drying her shower-warmed skin.
This time, she did jump at the sight of Helena sitting in that damn chair. She nearly lost her precious hold on the towel in the process.
"Good evening, darling," Helena purred. She stood and crossed the room.
Myka stood still as a statue, unsure how to proceed.
Helena, sensing Myka's hesitance, kissed her softly. It was just a hello kiss, a mere brushing of her lips across Myka's, but it still sent both their hearts racing.
Helena pulled back, giving Myka an appreciative once over. "Interesting outfit, darling."
Myka blushed, clutching the edges of the towel tighter in her fist. "If I had known you were going to pay me a visit tonight, I'd have put on clothes. Or, you know, underwear." She felt her cheeks burn even hotter at the last part of that statement, but the melodic laugh that came from Helena was worth it.
Helena brushed her fingers across the exposed skin of her chest, trailing just above the edge of the towel. "Don't get dressed on my account," she murmured.
Myka cleared her throat. "And why not?" she asked, mouth dry.
Helena grinned and moved her hand to the one Myka was using to hold the towel together. She pulled the hand away, lacing her fingers with Myka's, while her other hand came up to play with the dangerously loose piece of towel tucked into place. Helena looked up at Myka, seeking permission.
Myka ducked her head and captured Helena's lips in her own. Helena correctly took that as approval and she made quick work of the towel, allowing it to drop to the floor around their feet.
Myka shivered in the cool air of the room. But Helena made sure to warm her up.
Once again, Myka awoke to an empty bed. She reached out and touched the pillow Helena had used as her thoughts turned to the previous evening. Helena had been tender and passionate at the same time. She'd made Myka feel alive. More alive than she'd felt in years.
But she also felt more alone.
Wherever it was that was taking Helena away from her, she hoped it was for a good reason.
She had a feeling it was.
The fifth time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka was already asleep for the night.
It had been only two days since their last encounter. Helena didn't have the heart to wake her; she appeared so peaceful in her slumber. Instead, she stripped down to her underwear and slipped under the covers to snuggle against her back, closing her eyes and already feeling herself relax against her warmth.
Myka had awoken the moment the window had opened. The only thing that kept her from screaming aloud at the intruder was the scent of Helena that blew in with the cool night breeze. She felt Helena curl into her back and she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips.
She felt Helena relax and moved her hand to clasp Helena's. "Good night, Helena," she murmured.
Helena squeezed her hand and kissed her shoulder, left bare by the white tank top she wore. "Good night, darling," she whispered.
Soon, they were both asleep.
Myka was actually the first to awaken the following morning. It was still dark outside and a glance at the clock told her that it was just before five in the morning. She knew Helena would have to leave soon. She was just glad she'd get to say goodbye this time.
She watched Helena sleep for a few more minutes before waking her. "Helena," she whispered, stroking her cheek. They'd changed positions while they'd slept. Now, Helena was on her back, one arm trapped under Myka, who lay on her side, cuddled against her.
Helena stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She instantly smiled when she saw Myka's face and pulled her forwards for a kiss. "Good morning, darling," Helena said when they finally parted.
"Good morning," Myka sighed. She laid her head on Helena's soft shoulder, her fingers tracing random patterns on Helena's flat—almost too flat—stomach. She briefly wondered if she was eating right, but pushed the thought aside. "Do you have to go soon?"
Helena pressed against Myka's shoulder, rolling her onto her back until Helena hovered over her. "Soon," she said, brushing her lips across Myka's neck. "But not yet."
Just as the sun was peaking over the horizon, Helena crawled out Myka's window, giving one last glance over her shoulder and the now sleeping woman.
"Until next time, my love," she whispered.
And then she was gone.
The sixth time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka was angry.
It had been two weeks since her last appearance—actually, one week, five days, and 21 hours, but who was counting? (Myka was.)
Myka was sitting on her bed cross-legged as she wove her long, damp hair into a French braid. She'd just fastened an elastic around it when she heard the familiar sound of her window being raised. She didn't even glance in the direction of the woman climbing through it.
Helena slid into the room, shutting the window behind her against the night air. She sat next to Myka on her bed, moving to wrap her arms around the other woman. But Myka was pissed. She moved away, quickly standing and turning towards Helena, fists on her hips.
Helena was taken aback and stood. "Have I done something to upset you, darling?"
Myka scoffed. "Darling, love…" she mumbled. "Do you really mean any of that or am I just a booty call for you?"
"A… what?" Helena asked, confused. She stood to face Myka.
"A booty call," Myka said, exasperated. "It's when you go to someone's place, have sex with them, and then sneak out like some thief in the night. You use them for sex."
Helena gasped. "Myka, that's not—"
"Because that's what I feel like," Myka interrupted. "Every time you sneak out of here without even saying goodbye, that's what it feels like."
"Myka, darling, I think we need to stop and talk this though," Helena said.
"Darling, darling," Myka repeated. "I bet you say that to all the girls."
"Myka!" Helena gripped her shoulders and pulled her in for a hard kiss. Myka resisted at first, but was only able to maintain her resolve for all of five seconds before she felt her anger melt and she relaxed into the kiss.
Moments later, Helena realized she was shaking. She pulled back and noted the tears. "Myka," she whispered, leading her to sit on the edge of the bed, settling next to her. She took both of Myka's hands in her own. "What is this really all about?"
Myka pulled in a choppy breath, refusing to look at Helena. But Helena would have none of that. She cupped one of Myka's cheeks and forced her to meet her gaze. She used her thumb to brush away the fallen tears. "Please, Myka," she implored. "Tell me. You aren't really angry, are you?"
Myka shook her head. "No," she whispered.
"Then what?"
Myka took a steadying breath and closed her eyes. "I just… I love you, Helena." Her words were whispered, so soft that Helena had to strain to hear her, but she did.
When Helena didn't respond right away, Myka opened her eyes to encounter Helena's expression: a mixture of confused and amused.
"Myka, why is that making you cry? Is it…," she paused, "is it because you think I don't return your affections?"
Myka shook her head. "No," she whispered.
"Because I do," Helena said. "I love you, Myka Bering. You have to know that."
"I do!" Myka cried out. "I know you do. Which terrifies me."
Helena paused at Myka's admission, noting her anguished expression. "What exactly terrifies you, darling?" she asked softly. "Is it that I'm a woman?"
Myka scoffed. "Not at all," she said. "I don't care about that."
"Then why?"
Myka chewed on her lower lip, something Helena knew she did when she was contemplating her words. Finally Myka looked her square in the eye. "Will it always be like this?"
Helena gave her a questioning look. "Like what, darling?"
"This!" Myka said, sweeping one hand out in front of them. "You sneaking in here every couple of weeks, then sneaking out before the sun rises. Will it ever be normal between us? Because, I love you Helena, but I don't know how much longer I can do this. I miss you too much when you're not here. It hurts too much."
Myka's voice cracked on the last few words, and Helena wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her close. She felt tears form in her own eyes at Myka's distress. She held her close, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, until her tears slowed and her shaking stilled. Finally, Helena pulled back, moving to her knees in front of Myka.
"Myka, I can't promise anything right now," she started slowly, "except that I will do every, everything, that I can to come back to you, for good. Myka Bering, you've captured my heart and are holding tighter than anyone ever has before." She paused. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I know that not being with you, however we can, is so much worse."
Myka took in Helena's words, sniffling. "I… I need to think, Helena. I need time to think this through."
Helena nodded. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't," she said. She stood, pulling Myka up with her. "I'll leave you to your thoughts. I don't know when I'll be able to make it back, but I won't stop thinking of you." She kissed Myka, then turned towards the window, sliding it open and easing her length out the opening. She turned back at the last second. "I really do love you, Myka Ophelia Bering."
And, before Myka could respond, she was gone.
The seventh time Helena snuck into Myka's room, Myka was reading.
It had been their longest separation yet—five weeks, three days, four hours, and twenty-six minutes. That was a lot of time to think. For both of them.
For Helena, the separation had only cemented her need to keep Myka in her life.
For Myka, it was a bit more uncertain. On the one hand, her love for the Victorian woman was so strong that not being near her hurt her heart. On the other hand, they'd obviously be separated quite a bit. Could she really put herself through all that pain?
When she heard her window inching open, her heart raced and her palms became damp. She watched Helena climb in through the window, then shut it.
"Hey," Myka said when she straightened.
"Good evening, darling," Helena replied, standing there, hands clasped in front of her, looking all beautiful. That's when Myka snapped. She shut her book without even marking her place and hurried off the bed to stand in front of the unusually unsure of herself woman.
And then she kissed her.
And she knew. She knew that this was what she wanted. How could she deny herself such an amazing love?
Neither woman knew what their future held. But in that moment, neither one of them cared. They had each other.
And that was enough to give them hope.