Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the rights to Warehouse 13.
The two women lay naked and twisted in a pool of silken white sheets. One of them, a pale skinned Victorian on her back and the other, a mess of curly hair with her face burrowed in the pillow. Neither of them snored or talked in their sleep (strangely enough). It was not unheard of that both took advantage of yanking the sheet to their own side for more warmth. A wordless, half asleep tug-of-war would ensue where eventually the loser would end up snuggling up to the victor. There was never an hour in the night when these women didn't end up apart; they always clung to one another like a life vessel in stormy waters. Their bodies fit together perfectly; two halves as one in an ocean of linen and blankets.
A drowsy sleep was interrupted by the sunrise peeking through the bedroom curtains. Fingers of light provoked Helena into opening heavy lids to reveal Myka's arm draped over her stomach and a sheet tucked around them both. She smiled. It would be the first of many smiles that morning. Shifting to lay on her side she used her finger to trace light, teasing circles on the sleeping woman's bare shoulder. Her eyes were moving behind lids, eyelashes fluttering ever so gently to her REM cycle. The woman must have been enjoying the sleeping world she was drifting in for Helena noticed a slight twitching in the corner of the sleeper's mouth akin to a smile. Helena could think of nothing better to do with her time than drink in the sight of this dreaming figure.
Myka stirred and made a humming noise yet didn't pull away from Helena's feather light touch. "It can't be time yet," she mumbled into the pillow.
Helena caught the unmistakable tone of crankiness in the agent's voice. "No, it seems that we have a few more hours left." She finished the sentence with a kiss to the place her finger had left.
"And how shall we spend it?" Myka's face looked up to reveal a wistful look. Her question was answered with a kiss and fingers that slipped beneath her curls.
Eventually, Helena broke the kiss and brushed her thumb lightly across the woman's cheek. "Do you remember that night?"
"Which one?" Myka responded with a soft chuckle. "There are oh so many to choose from."
Helena playfully pushed at the brunette's body causing the box spring to jostle the two. "Indeed there are; many memorable nights to be sure." Then she gave Myka a genuine curious look. "I mean our first night… together."
Myka sighed at the memory. Turning over onto her back and tucking her arm behind her head she gazed up at the wallpapered ceiling, remembering. The night Helena had referred to was difficult to explain. It was passionate, that was to be sure, yet there was a presence of fear and sadness about that night. Myka trembled at the memory. Those feelings were so familiar. The thought of losing Helena never went away in all the years they had been together. It was always the same anxiety of loss, the relief at completing a mission unscathed, and the unimaginable pleasure derived from the nights they thought would be their last. It was a never ending cycle that Myka had grown accustomed to. She accepted these consequences of being a Warehouse agent… and being H.G. Wells' lover.
It was easy to be with Helena, although, life with her had not always been smooth sailing. The Victorian had come into her life like a hurricane in already stormy waters. Myka did not expect to fall in love again, not after Sam and not with someone… well, someone like Helena, she thought. Helena had invaded her heart without warning, never asking if it was okay to take hold of it without ever letting go. It was disorienting, it was risky, but like all storms Helena had calmed in time, breaking down her walls as she was breaking down Myka's. When the rubble had cleared they finally had a chance at being truly honest with each other. They did not waste it.
After defeating Walter Sykes there was nothing to do but take stock in what they had left. It was more than being thankful for escaping with their lives; it was acknowledging what they felt for each other. There was friendship built on similar interests and a partnership sustained by trust, however, Myka couldn't justify leaving it at that. The reality of saying goodbye to the noble writer when she sacrificed herself in the forest, how close she was to getting killed during that twisted chess game, almost getting blown to smithereens in the Warehouse… it all came to a head that night. As contradicting as it sounded, the threat of loss made her feel alive that night. It sparked a will to live and she refused to take anything (or anyone) for granted from then on. And so the two women started something so powerful it transcended not only conventionality, but their own expectations.
"I can't help but think how things would have turned out if I didn't drag you to my room that night." Myka couldn't tell if she was serious or making fun. In truth, Myka had half-dragged the Victorian by the hand up the stairs of the B&B and into her bedroom, slamming the door behind them. Of course, Helena was all too willing in being taken prisoner and just as anxious as Myka to be alone together, finally. As intense as those hours hidden away at the B&B were she wondered where their paths would have taken them if those hours hadn't occurred. Myka looked at her nails absentmindedly, nervous that Helena would take what she was about to say the wrong way. "I mean, if I hadn't would we be here right now, as we are?"
Helena took a short moment to reflect. She stared off into the corner of their bedroom where a chair sat draped haphazardly in day clothes and boots laying lopsided alongside it. Still staring into the corner, but clearly not seeing it she spoke with a sure voice, "Whatever happened, happened. We can't change the events of our past." A dark shadow cast over her eyes. It was brief, but Myka noticed. Helena finally gazed down at the other woman. "Why reflect on what could have occurred when we are so happy in the here and now?"
Myka knew Helena was attempting to cheer her up. She was aware that Helena had the same fears albeit the Victorian was much better at dealing with them now. There were many things the Victorian would have liked to change about her past, and it was not easy to let that urge go as she had been a part of that world for a large measure of her life. In addition, the approaching years held the writer's curiosity for it was ever so disconcerting to her the direction society was heading. Helena had a passion for both old fashioned trinkets and the unimaginable future, but she was more passionate about Myka, and so the present was where she would remain.
"You're right. I just… sometimes my mind flashes back to that night and what could have…" Myka shook her head to chase away the thought. The agent then took a deep breath and brought Helena's hand into her own. She wanted to show the writer that she didn't take her for granted; that whatever dark and dangerous events that had occurred in the past would stay in the past.
Closing her eyes Myka grazed her lips over still taught flesh and kissed. The touch was like a feather to the other woman's skin. A delicious mixture of affection and heat began to stir within her and it made Helena sigh. A simple chaste kiss from anyone else would not have elicited something like this. Myka Bering had power over the Victorian not because Helena allowed it, but because she couldn't live without it. There was something about the way her lover caressed her. It was so significant and natural; like after years of mistakes, regrets, and searching, they had finally stumbled upon their purpose in life.
Helena took the hand that had been caressed by her love and cupped her chin. "Do you realize that it was not just our first night together, but your first time with a woman?" Helena mused. She sniggered knowing the other woman was probably wondering where this was going.
Indeed Myka was speculating at the direction of the comment. She replied with false spite, "Must I prepare myself for more classic berating from H.G. Wells? You know as well as I do that I had never been with a woman before." Myka moved in closer to Helena so that their bodies were parallel to another and touching, skin on skin. Her voice dropped to a seductive tone as she continued. "I'd like to think that I've become quite practiced since then." She then placed her lips to the woman's pale skinned neck.
Helena's eyes fluttered shut as she hummed her appreciation. "Yes, well, I suppose in our case skills do develop overnight." Myka chuckled against the woman's neck and continued to tease and nip at the flesh. "And there are a few areas you have improved on over the years." Helena drawled.
"And which are those?" Myka pulled her lips away to await an answer. Helena didn't speak, but raised a brow telling her lover all she needed to know. Satisfied with the response, she returned her mouth to its original location, this time dragging wet kisses lower towards Helena's rising and falling chest.
"Mmm, you do have skills darling," Helena sighed and then looked down at Myka, "With my help of course."
Myka met Helena's sly grin with a frown which she failed to complete as she couldn't resist her love's dry wit in bed. Laughing, Myka responded, "Well I'm never one to turn down a helping hand. And I welcome criticism-"
"Just as long as it's constructive," Helena finished wryly. "Yes, I am well versed in your pleasure principles, darling."
"Now look who's learning," Myka pointed out. Proving that she knew a thing or two about what the other woman liked, she slowly ground her hips against Helena's.
The older woman's voice caught at the movement. She brought her arms around Myka urging her lover to settle into the contact. She kissed Myka's shoulder affectionately as her heart beat faster. The brunette leaned in to take hold of one breast in the palm of her hand and the other in her mouth. After an erect nipple was adequately drawn, teeth grazed the tip preparing her for imminent pain. When Myka bit down, Helena let out a sound that emphasized both discomfort and pleasure, raking manicured nails down the woman's bare back in response. When Helena was sated from hungry nips and soothing kisses she turned the tables by throwing Myka onto her back in one fluid motion, straddled her hips. The change in position elicited a surprised huff from the woman now below her as she was caught in a lascivious embrace. "I do love seeing you on your back, Agent Bering."
Myka knew she was cornered this time, but Helena made the mistake of not holding down her hands. Before the slip could be realized, Myka not so stealthily brushed her hands along the backs of the agent's thighs coaxing the Victorian back into a trance of pleasure. She was moved by the feel of her skin. The muscle and taught flesh was evidence of the strict workout she held to. Myka smiled as she imagined Helena swimming laps at the Univille community pool and the body that would glide back and forth as it cut through the water so effortlessly.
She didn't stop her route when she arrived just below the voluptuous curve of Helena's backside. Helena was visibly heaving at the touch and seemingly forgetting the advantage she once had over the woman kneading at her flesh.
"Myka…"
The brunette didn't need further admission to continue in her conquest. Without missing a beat Myka's hand sought out the heat between Helena's legs and began to slowly massage the woman into a gasping state. The heady sounds caused Myka to raise her eyes to the image above her. With eyes closed and forehead wrinkled in concentration she looked as if she was absorbed in the creation of one of her inventions (Helena always threw herself into her work and making love with Myka was certainly no exception). Her raven locks spilled around her face and over her shoulders. Myka saw her bite her lip and tip back her head in a state of anticipation. She never grew tired of Helena's beauty, especially on such… aerobic occasion.
Helena wanted entrance. She wanted to be closer to Myka in every imaginable way, but was too lightheaded to put her demand into coherent words; thus she bucked to her lover's ministrations, her hips begging silently for more. Two fingers responded by slipping into her wet center, stroking in just the right place. She moaned at the sensation and rocked against the driving force of her lover's hand. She felt Myka's hand grip her hip and pull her forward with each thrust. The motion between the two women was like the ebb and flow of waves on a beach with Helena as the water, crashing into Myka the sand. Helena flowed over her like a current and then in a sudden rush came completely undone, consumed by the orgasm rolling over her and riding it to the end.
When the storm dissipated Helena curled up exhausted and glowing in the crook of Myka's arm. This was our purpose, Myka thought; to exist in each other's arms and take pleasure in what came naturally. She looked into the eyes staring back at her and witnessed the diabolical smirk on the Victorian's flushed face. Myka would get hers soon enough.
Hands found one another beneath the sheets and finely acquainted fingers laced within one other. They clung to one another in unrestrained passion for the rest of the morning ignoring the beeps, rings, and knocks that called for duty. They remained in the depths of twisted sheets and their ocean of love.