What the Water Gave Me
AN: So I was teaching swim one day and the guy in the lane next to me started doing 100-yard sets of flawless butterfly and two thoughts popped into my head. First: "Ok, even as a lesbian, that is one of the hottest things I have ever seen." Second: "You know, I can totally see Helena as a flyer and Myka as a lifeguard staring at her and dammit, now I have to write this."
Myka noticed every patron that came to the pool (it was her job as a lifeguard, after all), but she really noticed the woman that sauntered onto the deck that afternoon. Lithe and pale, her black hair shimmered across her shoulders – a shade darker than the liquid depths of her eyes, a shade lighter than the black one-piece with blue designs that accentuated her every curve. Myka was smitten at first sight, and even though she was meant to be watching the rest of the pool, she couldn't take her eyes off this new visitor.
Working at the Warehouse Rec Center pool as long as she had, Myka knew all the usuals by face if not by name (the Warehouse was fairly exclusive, after all). This woman was the first new patron to come through the doors in a few years – at least during Myka's shift. Still, if she'd come any other day, Pete would probably have told her by now, along with all the ways he planned to get her to date him. But Pete and his misogynistic opinions were the last thing on Myka's mind as she watched the woman stretch on the pool deck. The brunette gulped as the new swimmer bent to touch her toes, giving the lifeguard a delicious view of her ass. Focus. Scan the pool. Scan her – the pool. The pool. But Myka only managed one general sweep before her gaze returned to the dark-haired woman, now pulling her hair back as she slid into the water. Putting on her goggles and adjusting them over her eyes, the swimmer streamlined off the wall and began –
Myka blinked. Butterfly. And not just butterfly – the most graceful, most perfectly executed butterfly she'd ever seen in her entire life. Most flyers made the biggest splashes – to the point where they aggravated the swimmers in the neighboring lanes – but this woman cut through the water with the barest of disturbances, her body undulating with the kick as her arms snapped forward and around. She lifted her head to breathe on every other stroke, perfectly aligned with her arms and her body as she flowed down the fifty-meter lane. Expecting her to stop at the wall, Myka's jaw dropped when the woman turned without slowing and began to fly her way back without falter.
Hundred-meter sets of butterfly. If the woman's beauty hadn't been enough to turn Myka on, that certainly would have done it.
"Pretty sure the pool is bigger than that one lane, Mykes," came a voice by the lifeguard's side, making her flinch. She turned to see Pete smirking at her, and she squirmed under his gaze. "Now what would Artie think if he knew you were that distracted?" Myka flinched again; had the Aquatics Director been the one to notice her indiscretion, she'd have suffered a lot more than the teasing she was sure to get from Pete.
"I'm just watching my side of the pool," Myka tried to cover. "You should be over watching yours."
"Oh, suuuuuuuuure," Pete drew out, turning his own attention to the swimmer, who had begun an interval lap of lazy freestyle. "Like that wasn't the hottest display of swimming you've ever seen. Even Claud starts flagging on the last twenty-five meters."
"Shut up and watch the pool."
"Says the pot to the kettle! Hey, think she needs some help with breaststroke?"
Myka shook her head in disgust. "Not in the way you're thinking."
"It's my best stroke for a reason, Mykes," he protested with a grin, holding up his hands.
"Just shut up and go back to your stand before we both get in trouble," she snapped back, giving him a push.
"Fine, fine," Pete ceded. "But I still think I'll introduce myself once she gets out of the water. Chicks dig lifeguards."
Myka rolled her eyes and turned to survey the rest of the pool just in time to see Claudia practically sprinting towards her. "Walk, Claud. Lifeguards have to follow the rules, too." The youngest guard on staff ignored her as she bounced up and down with wide eyes and an awed grin.
"Oh my God, Mykes, guess who just got into our pool?" she squealed.
"That new woman, you mean?"
"'That new woman'?!" Claudia repeated in affronted shock. She grabbed Myka's arm and pointed back at the pool where the dark-haired swimmer was once again doing a flawless lap of butterfly. "That's Helena Wells!" she all but shrieked. "Olympian gold medalist in the women's hundred-meter fly! I can't believe it I can't believe it I can't believe it! Mykes, do you think she'll autograph my swim cap if I ask her? Oh God, do you think she'll help me with my fly?"
"I'd love for her to help me with my fly."
"PETE!"
...
"So, I hear there's an Olympian in our pool," Leena commented as she handed Myka her coffee. Leena ran the Warehouse's café, and Myka always stopped by on her fifteen minute breaks for sustenance and conversation.
"So Claudia says," the lifeguard confirmed. "I think the last time I saw her that excited was when she qualified for the state finals in butterfly. She's in total hero-worship mode."
"I heard you were pretty interested yourself," Leena countered with one of her all-too-knowing smiles.
Myka flushed. "I…come on, Leena, her butterfly was perfect – how could I not be paying attention?"
"Why thank you, darling, though I'd hardly call it perfect."
Myka turned to find her gaze meeting that of Helena Wells, damp-haired and tracksuit-clad, a swim bag over her shoulder. She was smirking at the lifeguard, her dark eyes twinkling in amusement as the brunette's blush deepened. "Helena," she held out her hand, finally taking pity on her.
"Myka," the lifeguard replied with some relief, shaking her hand. "So, uh," she stumbled for a topic. "Has our resident flyer cornered you yet?"
Helena chuckled, taking a moment to order a tea from Leena before responding. "The energetic redhead? Yes, she did wave. She looked on the verge of fainting when I waved back."
Myka had to laugh as well as both women took and paid for their drinks. "Yeah, that sounds like her. Careful – she already has plans to ask for your autograph and some tips."
"She doesn't have a coach?" Helena asked. Neither woman seemed to notice that they found a table and sat across from each other as if they'd been friends sharing a routine for years.
"She does, but he's more concerned with relays. The two other guards and I give what help we can, but none of us are flyers."
"What's your stroke, then?"
"Freestyle," Myka replied. "My fly is more of a flop," she added ruefully.
Helena's laugh was musical, and it made Myka's heart flutter in her chest. "It's not for everyone, to be sure."
"Pete's convinced that whoever invented it was a sadist who reveled in the despair of perfectionist swimmers."
"Is he the boyish one that offered to help me with breaststroke?" the flyer asked with an arched eyebrow.
Myka groaned and buried her face in her hands. "That's the one." Both women shook their heads and took a sip of their drinks (Leena, noticing the simultaneity from a distance, couldn't help but grin at the obviously blossoming connection). "So what brings you to the Warehouse?" the lifeguard asked. "There are plenty of other Olympic pools in the area."
"Anonymity," Helena replied. "Or so I was hoping, anyway. Hence the lack of swim cap. But it seems my reputation follows me wherever I go."
Myka felt a sudden panic at the thought that Helena might not return, instead seeking another venue now that she'd been recognized. "Well, Claudia was the only one to actually recognize you, and you don't have to worry about the rest of us blabbing to the other patrons," she assured the swimmer. "Nobody'll bother you at the Warehouse, and I'll be sure to tell Claud to dial it down a little."
Helena smirked over the edge of her cup as she took another sip of tea, finding Myka's lack of subtlety endearing. "On the contrary, I look forward to the opportunity to swim laps with another flyer."
"She'll love that." So will I, Myka added to herself. She looked over at the wall clock and cringed. "Shit, I was supposed to be back on deck a minute ago." Standing, she turned back to Helena one last time. "I'll…see you around, though?" she asked, suddenly feeling shy.
The swimmer's smile chased all the shyness away. "Of course, darling. Have a good shift."
"Thanks, you too. Have a good day, I mean, not shift…" Myka fumbled, inwardly cringing at her social ineptitude.
Helena chuckled. "I understood you, darling. And thank you."
"Right…" Myka trailed off. She gave Helena one last, awkward wave before heading back to the pool, trying to figure out the jumble of emotions the swimmer had awoken within her.
...
"Your legs are coming apart, Claud," Myka called as the lifeguard swam past the stand. Claudia was practicing hundreds in butterfly, and Myka, Steve, and Pete were coaching her as best they could.
"Yeah, Claud, keep your legs together until you find the right guy," Pete added. Claudia stopped at the wall long enough to flip him off before beginning the second fifty meters. As Pete had noted the day before, she began flagging halfway down the lane, and she barely made it to the wall, collapsing against it as she fought to get air in her lungs.
"Goddammit!" she groaned as she pulled her goggles from her eyes, letting her head fall to the deck.
"You should streamline a little farther from the wall, darling," came a voice from above her, and the redhead looked up to see Helena Wells standing at the end of the lane. "And be sure to keep the kick going in the streamline."
"Helena!" Myka and Claudia gasped at the same time, Myka in delight and Claudia in awe. The redhead gaped at the flyer before realizing how rude she was being and closed her mouth with a gulp. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice having risen a couple octaves. "As soon as I get my breath back, I'll do just that."
Helena laughed, sliding into the lane next to Claudia's. "Here, I'll do a warm-up, and then we can do some laps together," she offered before streamlining from the wall and into breaststroke.
Claudia watched the woman swim off for a moment before letting out a squeal of joy that made the other three lifeguards jump. "Helena Wells is going to swim butterfly with me!" she flailed, pushing herself up so she could fist bump Steve.
"What are you all doing?!" The four guards looked up to see Artie storming across the pool deck. "Why aren't any of my lifeguards doing any guarding?!"
"We are guarding!" Pete protested. "We're all just on the same side of the pool 'cause it happens to be where Claud and Helena Wells are swimming."
"Helena Wells? Really? I mean – I can't have you leaving your stand to ogle professional swimmers! You have five seconds to get back to work before I assign you to mopping the locker rooms!" Artie spun on his heel and grumbled back to his office, muttering something about the work ethic of today's generation.
"You know what, I'll take this side," Myka jumped in, calling dibs before the boys could. By that time, Helena had finished her warm-up and was in deep conversation with Claudia.
"Aw, but I wanna watch the hot chicks swim butterfly!" Pete protested. The "hot chicks" in question shot him a glare.
"Which is precisely why you should be on the other side of the pool," Myka retorted, spinning Pete by his shoulders and shoving him towards the opposite guard stand. Only when he was out of earshot did Steve glance at the brunette with an arched eyebrow.
"You know, you're pretty interested in watching them swim, too."
"Oh, shut up."
...
Under Helena's tutelage, Claudia's butterfly improved exponentially, even though she'd only been training with the Olympian for about a week. "She's a natural," Helena commented to Myka one afternoon as the two of them watched Claudia cross the pool. That was another thing Myka noticed along with Claudia's progress: Helena always seemed to be at the pool when Myka was. More often than not, she'd arrive about fifteen minutes after the brunette's shift started, which would have been unremarkable, had it not been for the nature of Myka's schedule. Most swimmers had a set time for themselves when it came to practice: arrive at the same time each day, do their laps for a set time, and then leave. Helena had a set time for her laps, to be sure, but her arrival always coincided with Myka's, whether it be morning, afternoon, evening, or even, as Claudia so fondly called it, the ass-crack of dawn. Choosing blissful ignorance in favor of hopeful suspicion, Myka concluded that the variance was due to Claudia's schedule and not her own and tried not to think too hard about it.
The best part of Helena's schedule was that she took her breaks with Myka. The two of them would order their respective tea and coffee and then discuss all matter of everything and nothing for fifteen minutes. Leena always seemed to smile a little wider than usual during these sojourns, and managed to corner Myka about them when they were both leaving for the day.
"You like her," Leena stated without preamble as she walked beside the guard.
Myka balked. "Well…of course I like her. She's nice, she's funny, she's…" the brunette shrugged.
"Uh-huh," Leena drew out. "And the fact that you immediately knew who I was talking about means nothing, then?"
The lifeguard flushed, caught. "Come on, Leena, what's not to like?" she protested. "We're friends, that's all."
"Uh-huuuuuuh," came a voice from Myka's other side as Claudia jogged up to join them. "But you want to be soooooo much more than that, don't you?"
Trapped between the two prying women, Myka could only grumble, "Oh, shut up."
"I think it's sweet," Leena said. "Now you just have to do something about it."
"I don't have to do anything about anything."
Claudia patted Myka's shoulder. "You keep telling yourself that."
...
"Are you ready?" Helena asked the nervous redhead. The Olympian was standing by the side of the pool with a stopwatch, Claudia shifting from foot to foot beside her. Myka was closest to the two swimmers (again) with a video camera, while Pete and Steve looked on from the opposite sides of the pool.
"I…I think so…" Claudia whimpered. She sent a panicked glance to Myka, who nodded her encouragement.
"You can do it, Claud. You've been working hard."
"That's what I'm afraid of," the girl replied, wondering if she'd have the energy to meet her goal.
"Claud, if I could do the twelve recertification laps at eight am with no breakfast, no coffee, and an ear infection, I think you can do this," Steve called from his spot across the pool.
"Thanks for that," was her sarcastic shout.
"I have faith in you, Claudia, and just for a moment, I'm going to play the 'and you know who I am' card," Helena assured her.
Claudia took a deep breath and nodded before standing at the pool's edge and facing her lane. She took a moment to shake her arms and legs a bit to loosen them up, though Myka and Helena both had the feeling that she did it more out of nerves than anything.
"Swimmers, take your marks," Myka spoke as if it were a formal competition.
Claudia bent at the poolside as if she had a starting block (an addition that had been promised for months now but still hadn't come through). Myka waited until she was sure the redhead was ready before blowing a short blast with her whistle. The moment the sound split the air, Helena started the stopwatch and Claudia sprang from the wall and into the water. She kept the dolphin kick going through the streamline before her arms snapped around and pulled her through the pool. She didn't slow for a moment.
Myka and Helena held their breaths as they watched the young swimmer fly across the pool, Myka following her with the camera as Steve and Pete cheered her on. Claudia's turn at the far wall was almost flawless as she pushed into another streamline.
"Twenty-eight seconds on the turn," Helena said for the benefit of the camera. As if hearing her, Claudia seemed to triple her efforts, her speed noticeably increasing as she pushed for the finish. She was still going strong at the seventy-five meter mark, and Steve's and Pete's cheers joined Myka's chant of "come on, come on, come on…"
Claudia's hand smacked the wall and Helena stopped the clock. An elated grin split her face. "Fifty-nine point six-eight seconds!" she shouted, punching the air with both hands.
"YES!" Claudia shrieked, tearing off her swim cap and goggles and throwing them high in the air. Pete and Steve were jumping up and down, and patrons who knew Claudia and had been watching the spectacle began to applaud as well. Myka stopped the camera and placed it on the guard chair before participating in her own cheer. "Rio 2016, here I come!" Claudia shouted, both hands in the air with Helena's. The Olympian helped the redhead from the pool and pulled her into a tight embrace, both of them laughing. The boys gave up all pretense of guarding and all but tackled Claudia from behind, not caring that they were getting soaked. When they finally let her go, the young flyer threw her arms around Myka.
"Ugh, Claud, you're all wet!" the brunette protested even as she wrapped her arms around the elated swimmer.
"Oh, who cares!" Claudia yelled (thankfully into her shoulder and not her ear) before pulling away and jumping up and down on the deck. Myka just shook her head and grinned.
Helena, also grinning, took the opportunity to move to Myka's side. "Well, as long as you're already wet," she began, then ended by pulling the brunette into a hug. Caught off guard, Myka automatically returned the embrace. When it fully occurred to her what was happening, she tightened her arms around the Olympian, feeling her do the same. She knew they were probably hugging far longer than was appropriate for "just friends," but Myka didn't want to lose the feeling of Helena's warm body pressed to hers, or the sound of her breathing in her ear, or the smell of her shampoo present even through the chlorine.
When they finally did pull away, Myka was drenched and both women were flushed and breathless and neither could stop grinning. The moment might have lasted longer had Claudia not thrown her arms around Helena's waist and started babbling questions about trying out for the Olympics and how the process worked and would Helena still be her coach. The Olympian laughed and patiently replied as best she could. Even deprived of her moment as she was, Myka couldn't help but watch them fondly. Still, for the rest of the day, the feel of Helena in her arms replayed in her memory far more than Claudia's victory did.
...
It was early morning on Myka's day off, and she chose to spend it doing freestyle in the otherwise empty pool. She was swimming to relax and gather her thoughts more than practice for speed or style, so her progress through the water was a slow glide, arms reaching and slicing and lazily pulling her forward. She breathed without thinking, slid into her flip-turn and streamline without thinking, and continued her stroke in blissful stillness. She was halfway to the other side of the pool when she noticed the swimmer in the lane beside her: a familiar lithe form with raven hair matching her freestyle stroke for stroke, breath for breath. Myka grinned as she continued to swim, and she was still grinning when both women came to a simultaneous stop at the wall. They took off their goggles and placed them on the wall before turning to gaze at each other, smiles on both their faces.
"So I've noticed that you always seem to be here when I am," Myka commented, giving in to hope. To her surprise, Helena bit her lip and blushed, glancing away.
"Well, I admit, I…asked something of Claudia in exchange for coaching her."
"Is that so?" Myka prodded with an arch of her eyebrow, wondering where this was going.
"I…asked her for your schedule."
Myka couldn't help the grin that once again spread across her face, breath catching in her throat. "Really?" she whispered.
Helena, seeing the change in demeanor and hoping it meant what she thought it did, rolled over the lane line so she could stand next to the guard. "Really."
"So does that mean…" Myka began, taking a daring step closer to the Olympian, "that every time we sat together during my break could be considered a date?"
It was Helena's turn to have her breath catch in her throat. "Maybe," she replied, stepping closer and carefully wrapping her arms around Myka's waist. The brunette responded by wrapping her arms around Helena's neck, her hands having moved of their own volition and not by any conscious thought on Myka's part. Neither woman was complaining.
"So…if I were to kiss you right now," Myka murmured, not knowing where this bravery was coming from and not caring as long as it continued. "It wouldn't be too soon?"
Helena chuckled, and the sound made the brunette shiver in the best way. "Not nearly soon enough, darling." And then her lips were on Myka's.
It didn't matter that the water was cold and the air wasn't much better; the swimmers were warm in each other's arms and their kiss was scorching and they were pulling each other closer until they were flush against each other and clinging to each other's suits and completely lost in the moment. Helena's tongue made a tentative sweep along Myka's lips and the brunette immediately opened her mouth, her tongue eagerly meeting the Olympian's in a delicate dance. Both were well aware that they were making out in the middle of the pool and that anyone could walk in on them, but neither of them cared as long as they never stopped kissing each other and never let go.
As it was, there were people watching them.
Leena, Pete, Steve, and Claudia all sat around one of the pool security monitors, the image of the two women losing themselves in each other crystal-clear on the black and white screen. Leena and Claudia were grinning and giggling, Steve wore his usual serene smile, and Pete's jaw was hanging open in a mix of disbelief and "holy crap there's lesbian action right in front of me."
"I told you they were totally into each other!" Claudia said to the stunned guard, sharing a high-five with Leena. Pete couldn't even respond; he was too busy watching Myka and Helena continue to kiss. Helena had just pushed Myka against the wall of the pool.
"Do you think we should stop them before this goes any further?" Steve asked, only half-joking.
"No, don't," Pete replied, finally finding his voice. "These cameras are recording, right?"
"PETE!"
AN 2: Story/Real Life Factoids That May Be Of Interest: My stroke is breaststroke (heaven help you if you're my student and you drop your hip in the kick), not butterfly, but I do teach it. What little I got about competitive butterfly and plausible times came from a video of the 2012 Olympic Final of Women's 100-meter Fly. I am also a lifeguard, Steve's recertification story is my own from two weeks ago, and my first kiss (and many subsequent ones) was in a pool.