I was given a prompt of Helen/Declan romantic. I don't know that I did a very good job of it, but this is what I came up with.
Declan knew all too well the demands of being a head of house. So when Helen had arrived Thursday, accompanying a shipment of storkal eggs, and decided to spend the weekend with him, he hadn't expected it to be free of distractions. There was always something that needed done, someone that needed their attention, and that was just as a regular head of house. He knew the demands of being the head of the global network were much greater.
Their usual routine when staying at each other's Sanctuary's was to help out as best they could during the day, but reserve the night time hours for more private matters. It had always worked well for them in the past, but it was now Saturday and he had yet to get a decent amount of time with her. It seemed that every time they finally got away, another crisis would arise that one or the other of them had to deal with.
Declan was getting more than a little frustrated by the whole thing. Helen would be leaving tomorrow evening and he felt like he had yet to even welcome her properly. That was why the head of the London sanctuary was currently marching purposefully down the halls in search of the woman in question. A few well placed threats and a handful of bribes had ensured that his Sanctuary would be looked after for the evening while he took Helen out for some much needed alone time.
He found her in the office she used whenever visiting the London Sanctuary. She was on the phone, chatting away in what he could only assume was perfect Russian. He wasn't sure, he didn't speak Russian, but it seemed like she was having an argument. His suspicions were confirmed when she growled and abruptly slammed the phone back into its receiver. She scowled menacingly at the device, as if it was at fault. Her featured softened when she noticed his presence, a tired smile playing around her lips.
"Come with me," he said firmly, moving closer to her desk and holding his hand out for her.
Her brows knitted together in confusion, but she took his hand and followed him without protest. He tugged her down the halls at a brisk pace, trying to slip away before any sort of crisis could arise to keep them there.
"Where are we going, Declan?" Helen finally asked as he pulled her into the elevator.
"We're getting out of here."
"Excuse me?"
"I've hardly gotten two seconds alone with you since you arrived and you leave tomorrow, so I'm kidnapping you."
"Is that so?" She chuckled low, under her breath, trying but failing to hide her amusement.
He pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair, breathing in the smell of her. He held her close, enjoying how she always seemed to fit so perfectly against him. She didn't resist his hold on her, melting into him instead.
"You didn't have to kidnap me," she told him quietly. "I would have come with you willingly."
"Its more fun this way," he joked, kissing her hair just as the elevator doors binged open.
They were at the garage level and he led them confidently to the far corner where his motorcycle was parked. Declan was grateful that she happened to be wearing pants today. She followed his gaze to her jean clad legs and grinned in agreement. Swinging his leg over the bike, he settled his weight on top of it and looked over at her expectantly.
"You're not going to let me drive?" Helen teased, digging a hair tie out of her pocket and pulling her mass of brown curls up into a ponytail.
"I like the idea of feeling you pressed up against me," Declan shrugged.
Helen gave him a look that said she enjoyed it too before she climbed on behind him. She made an effort to press against him as tightly and enticingly as possible. Declan couldn't help the slight hitch in his breath when she rubbed her breasts against his back. He didn't need to see her face to know that she was smirking. Pulling his attention away from the woman clinging to him, Declan revved the engine and began to ease the bike out of the garage.
It was still early enough in the summer that it wasn't too hot, the wind whipping around them keeping cool. Declan wove through the streets of London, heading out of the city for the more open roads. He always got a rush from speeding down the long stretches of highway, pushing the limits of how fast he could safely go. He suspected that Helen would feel the same way.
As he sped down the highway he felt the tension begin to melt away; the sun warm on his face, wind whipping through his hair, Helen pressed firmly against his back, her hands splayed across his stomach and chest. He wasn't sure how long he drove, he didn't exactly have a destination in mind, but eventually the grumble of his stomach forced him to stop. They ate a quick lunch, stretching out their legs before resuming their ride.
On the way back into London it started raining, one of those sudden summer showers. By the time they made it back into the city they were both soaked to the bone. Declan knew Helen would be expecting them to go back to the Sanctuary, but he had different plans for the evening and thus ventured deeper into the city. He had a small flat down by the docks, nothing fancy, just somewhere to go when he needed some time away from the Sanctuary. He parked his bike in front of the building, letting Helen get off before he put down the kickstand.
"Where are we?" Helen asked, confused.
"My place," Declan told her cryptically.
On the outside the building looked almost rundown, but the inside had been completely re-done. It had a sort of modern industrial look; concrete and brick walls, hard wood floors, and sparse, sleek furnishings.
"I didn't know you had a place outside the Sanctuary," Helen said, wondering around the apartment.
"Sometimes I like to get away for a little while."
"I can understand that."
"Its my own private Sanctuary."
"We all need one."
Declan let Helen continue her perusal while he wondered into the bedroom to remove his wet clothing. By the time he returned, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants, she had found a bottle of wine and was searching the cabinets for glasses.
"I can do that," Declan told her. "You go dry off."
"I'll only be a minute," Helen said, heading in the direction he'd just come.
Declan pulled two glasses down from the cabinet and then fished around in one of the drawers for the corkscrew. He really didn't get to come here very often, especially not since taking over for James as the head of the London Sanctuary. This had been his home before James had taken him on as a protege. At first he'd thought about selling the place, but James, in all his wisdom, had insisted he keep it. Declan was immensely glad he had listened to the old fellow. He hadn't been kidding when he'd told Helen this was his refuge when things got to be too much at the Sanctuary. No one, other than James, had known about this place and Declan had made sure it stayed that way. He needed one place that was just his, where he could simply be Declan and not the London Head of House.
Taking the wine and the glasses into the next room, Declan flopped down on the couch to wait for Helen. He didn't have to wait long. As soon as he was settled she appeared before him. He hadn't heard her coming, her bare feet padding silently across the floor. His mouth nearly fell open at the sight of her. Her hair was still damp, but she'd stripped off the rest of her wet garments. Not having any other clothes to change into, she'd borrowed one of his material was just long enough to cover her modesty, but leaving her long legs completely exposed to him. The shirt hadn't been designed to accommodate for breasts, especially ones as ample as Helen's, and the fabric clung tightly to them, her nipples clearly visible under the cotton. She was beautiful.
"I hope you don't mind, I borrowed one of your shirts."
"Not at all," Declan told her sincerely. "It looks much better on you than it ever will on me."
Helen took the extra wine glass from the small coffee table and sunk down on the sofa next to him, tucking her legs under her and snuggling against his side. Declan wrapped his arm around her loosely. This was what he had wanted all weekend.
"Shouldn't we be getting back soon?" Helen asked, though Declan could hear the reluctance in her voice.
"I told Margaret to hold down the fort tonight and only call if it was an absolute emergency."
"And how long do you think that'll last?"
"I give it a few hours."
They both laughed. The likelihood of them getting through the entire evening without some kind of interruption was very low and they both knew it. But they'd enjoy the respite as best they could in the mean time.
"So do you bring all the girls here?" Helen teased, elbowing him playfully.
"No," he said plainly. "Just you. Only you, Helen."
He pulled her closer, holding her tight against him. There had been other girls, of course, but that had been before the Sanctuary, when this was just where he lived. Since moving to the Sanctuary, this had become his oasis and he hadn't brought anyone here, not even James. This place had become private. Yet Helen was here now, he'd brought her because he loved her.
"Declan, I-" she tried to say, turning in his arms so that she was facing him.
"I wanted to share this with you," he told her quietly, suddenly embarrassed.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Truly. I'm honored, Declan." She leaned into him, giving him a tender kiss.
"I love you, Helen."
"I know," she breathed against his lips. "I love you too."