A/N: Bless me, fanfic, for I have sinned. It has been almost a year since my last fanfiction…and it's not even a "Eureka" fic…those people are gonna be pissed! But this had to be done because this pairing is WAY too good. So good that I don't own them nor do I make any profit off of their use…

"Payback"

Myka didn't know what to make of her last case. Going Pete-less really "messed with her mojo" (as he would put it) from the beginning. And then there was Wells. Or H.G. Or whatever.

One thing Myka was sure of was that she wasn't herself. Back at Leena's –laying flat on her bed—, all she could do was stare up at the ceiling and think. "P"What game is the former agent playing?" "Why was she Bronzed?" "How could a perfume be so intoxicating?"

Myka tried to keep away from those more personal questions, but late at night she allowed herself a longer leash. Even now she willed herself to bring back H.G.'s maddening floral aroma. Myka finally closed her eyes as the faint scent wafted across her still body…

She focused on the words scrawled across the yellow scrap currently housed in the keepsake box on her bedside table: Keep it, you can owe me.

You.

Owe me.

Myka breathed in deeply, trying to steady a racing heart the remembrance of those words elicited. She pushed the air from her lungs into an unexpected weight on her chest. Agent Bering tensed as her eyes flew open.

"Hmmm. And I'm supposed to be the agent working under you, correct?" Helena smoothed Myka's unruly curls against the mattress. "That can be easily remedied." Wells smiled that easy smile.

Shock fought with more pleasurable sensations as Myka realized the identity of the intruder. "What the hell are you doing here?" Agent Bering grabbed the other woman's wrists to stop her distracting caress. "How did you get in?"

"A woman never reveals all her secrets the first night. As to what I'm doing, it has been more than a century but this is one thing that hasn't changed much." Myka's restraint of her arms forced H.G. to press her body firmly against the other woman as she brought her lips down to kiss the feisty woman below. It didn't take long for Agent Bering to give up her protestations and respond to the sweet assault. Her grip loosened on the British beauty's hands, allowing the author to trail her fingers underneath Myka's cotton tee. "This is my payback," Helena whispered dangerously close to the younger woman's ear.

The current Warehouse agent took advantage of the situation, reversing their positions and pinning the fiery fugitive beneath her lithe form. "If this is how you demand repayment, I'll covet your inventions more often." Myka wasn't usually as forward (there was hardly anything usual about this rendezvous to begin with), but ever since H.G.'s sudden reappearance on the side of the light she couldn't stop thinking about her. Of course she questioned her motives, but it had been a long, aching while since she felt such a searing connection. There would be time for motive questioning later. Instead Agent Bering took the time to properly examine the gorgeous brunette's chin and throat with her lips and tongue.

"For the record, I think this is as ill-advised as you do." The Englishwoman lifted her chin, allowing that much more access for Myka's continued ministrations on her porcelain neck. "I just can't seem to help myself," Helena rasped. She reached behind to Myka's nape, pulling with it the mass of curls that created a silky curtain around their faces. H.G. again made contact with the younger woman's mouth, exploring the recesses of warmth and perfect teeth until it was necessary to breath. In that moment, Helena seriously considered even giving up air for more precious seconds with this woman.

"Now you're a mind reader?" Myka took advantage of the brief pause to run her hands between the leather jacket and silky top still covering the author's torso.

"No, just a woman. A woman who knows you better than you think." She kissed Myka's lips tenderly. "Because we're more similar than you care to admit."

"Is this some sort of British foreplay? Ridiculously serious conversation when all I want to do is rip your clothes off?" Myka pushed the stray strands of sleek hair behind Helena's ears.

"Well, I guess so. Yes." H.G. smiled wryly. "I apologize, please continue. I promise to be silent."

" I doubt you'll be silent for long." Myka ran her thumb along the other woman's swollen lips. "Not if I have anything to do with it.

The door squeaked open (not because of neglect, but an actual security measure) and Myka froze in place. "Myka, are you okay? I can hear you whimpering from down the hall…" Leena's soothing tone trailed off as she stood in the doorway, trying to make out her friend's figure in the dark. All the empath could discern was the vibrant glow of Agent Bering's aura. She knew what that color meant…

"Yeah, I'm fine," Myka managed to croak out, frantically searching her bed for signs of her companion. Her roving hands found only tangled sheets. "Must have been a dream."

"Okay," Leena drawled, unconvinced. "I'm going to go down and make some tea. You want any?"

"I'm good. Thanks though." Myka breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the door click shut. She rolled over, facing the outside wall and groaned. "What's wrong with me?" she whispered into the dark. Then her attention was caught by the drapes fluttering with the night breeze against the once-closed window. She could still smell the lavender on her pillow as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

A/N 2: This is currently a one-shot, but if you like the style I may be able to come up with a little follow-up to this tale incorporating "Vendetta." Reviews help that process to manifest. Like a lot.