Oh god, I did it... I'm actually ashamed of myself... This is nothing but me re-writing Rome. And I'm fairly sure you can all guess how that's gonna turn out...

This was also an excuse to watch that episode over and over and over and over and over again (which I did). Oh, and I chose to ignore the (what I assume was) Italian because I don't speak it and I couldn't be bothered…

Also pondering the intelligence of writing a sequel to this, looking at their escape from old Johnny and the Cabal, encompassing Nikola's well demonstrated protective streak… And if I do go down that route, considering this is totally me rewriting history, who would be in favour of killing off old Johnny? This is (surprisingly) negotiable :P

So, to sequelise or not to sequelise? The choice is yours…

Then there's the option of re-writing all the best Teslen moments so far... Like I need more stories to write...

It got a little more emotional towards the end but I'm fairly sure I've brought it back to the land of smut pretty easily.

This is for all the Teslen shippers... 'Cause you deserve a little somethin' somethin' considering the torture they've put us through...

Yah, don't own it... But this is what would have happened if I did...

Enjoy

xx

"… to well below life sustaining levels for days at a time," Helen said, stopping short as she took in the wiry and impeccably dressed man slipping through the doors. Her heart stopped the second he flashed her his biggest, smuggest grin and her hands clamped down on the lectern, praying that she hadn't finally lost it, that he wasn't an illusion. Even 60 years apart wouldn't and couldn't make her heart beat normally when she saw him. His clothes may have become more modern and his hair wilder than she'd ever seen it but in an instant she knew her world was about to be turned upside down. After all, Nikola bloody Tesla wore danger like a second skin.

"Such examples of this simple genetic mutation are part of a larger scale trend we're seeing worldwide," she continued, hoping that her voice was holding steady and that the words she was saying were indeed the ones she was meant to be saying, she was entirely sure anymore. Her eyes scanned the crowd but it was no use, she was still peripherally aware of his twinkling eyes on her as he handed her guard a note, grin still firmly in place. "More appearance of extraordinary genetic abilities are cropping up at an ever increasing rate." Benjamin, her personal escort looked frustrated as he approached her but she was pleased to see that he was still being professional.

"Excuse me…" he said, looking apologetic before he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "The young man who just walked in insisted I give this to you. He said it was urgent," he whispered quickly.

"I see," she said, giving him a small nod as she took the paper he held out to her. Unfolding it quickly, she soaked in the words written in that familiar, messy, slanting script.

You will be killed in less than three minutes. Meet me now.

Tesla.

PS: You look hot.

Despite the overly dramatic warning, Helen almost smiled at the last words. Then it sunk in and she looked up, eyes frantically searching the room for her old friend, alarmed to see he wasn't there. Her heart was immediately in her throat, all thoughts of continuing her presentation gone.

"An urgent matter has come up, can we take a short recess?" she said hurriedly, already walking to the door, waving off her security detail before slipping through the doors. Her mind was racing, running through the myriad of ways either she or Nikola could be killed but instantly she was at ease as she took in his smug face on the other side of the foyer they were in. Letting out a sigh and cursing herself for getting so worked up by what would undoubtedly be nothing more than a hoax, she walked over to him, standing just a little closer than she probably should have as she slipped his note into her pocket.

"Helen Magnus," he said, eyes full of his trademark mischief. "Kiss me and I'll save your life." Of all the first words, she thought, cocking her head, trying to ignore the way his words made the blood pound through her body.

"And if I don't," she quipped, hoping she sounded cool and aloof, not excited and jittery.

"Ahh, it's been over 60 years, just plant one on me already," he said, grin in place. She knew his game plan, there was no way he wouldn't at least try and take advantage of her in any way he could. But the one thing he didn't know is that she had the exact same plan. Letting out a fake sigh and ignoring the twinkle in his eye that made her stomach flutter, she rolled her eyes and leant in to press her lips against the cheek he indicated was to be the recipient.

Unsurprisingly he turned his head so that her lips connected with his. Although she'd been expecting the movement, she wasn't expecting just how soft his lips would be. The sensation sent electricity running through her body and instinctively she took in a breath through her nose. Her entire body stiffened and her hands flew to his shoulders. She felt him begin to move away and, unthinkingly her hands slid up his shoulders to snake around his neck and pull their bodies flush. He was momentarily startled but caught on quickly, his hands grabbing her waist as he nipped at her bottom lip. Knotting a hand in his hair, Helen realised how much more she liked it all spiky and haphazard than the slicked back style he usually kept. Then she found herself unable to think any further as his tongue began probing her mouth. Tasting him was so much better than she'd ever dared imagine and, as he groaned and tightened his grip on her waist, she was fairly certain he was enjoying it too. Only when the need for air was completely overwhelming did she pull back, pleased when his arms stayed around her.

"Nikola Tesla, you always did know how to get my attention," she breathed, impressed that he was panting just as hard as her. He chuckled, a low and throaty sound that made his chest vibrate against hers.

"I try, my dear," he said before pulling away from her. She couldn't help but pout at the loss of contact. His scent was intoxicating and she needed more so she stepped back towards him, forgetting about proprietary or how needy the action would look, all that mattered was getting his lips on hers as soon as possible. He chuckled again and restrained her.

"Unless you want things to get rather bullet-ridden, I'd suggest we leave right now," he said, his voice still rough which pleased her to no end.

"Bullet-ridden?" she asked as he tugged her by the arm towards the nearest corridor.

"The Cabal," he said by way of an answer. She cocked an eyebrow and, as if on cue the room she had just been in was swarmed. They quickened their pace, weaving through corridors until, out of nowhere, Nikola came to a complete stop, pulling Helen with him. Before she could comprehend what was happening, her back was against the wall and her lips far too busy to ask any kind of question. As Nikola's hands came to a rest on her hips, she let out a soft moan and pulled him closer, hand tangling in the liberated hair she was quickly becoming a rather large fan of. Speaking of rather large, it was at this point that Helen noticed the prominent bulge jutting into her stomach which only served to make her groan again before grinding her hips against his in a show of approval. His hands quickly jumped from her hips to her waist and then, unexpectedly to caress her breast through the thick fabric of her suit.

His lips slipped off her and to her neck, sucking and nibbling at her pulse point in a way that she knew was both dangerous to her sanity and possibly her life. Ignoring that latter, she pulled him closer, gasping when his teeth scraped across the now tender flesh. Her eyes popped open and she was suddenly more aware than ever that they were standing in the corridor of a foreign hotel, being chased by the Cabal after having been separated for 60 years, making out heavily and, judging by the trajectory of Nikola's now wandering hand, about to be doing a lot more.

"No," she groaned, pushing him with all her strength but it was futile, his lips remained locked on her neck, hand still tracing patterns above her knee cap. "No," she said again, head rolling from side to side as his hand grabbed her knee, hiking her leg up to sit around his hip, allowing his fingers the chance to slip up her thigh to play, first with the edge of her thigh-high stockings and then with the edge of her underwear.

"Helen, do you really want me to stop?" he asked against her neck, fingers running teasingly over the lace of her panties. She shuddered under his touch but, eyes still open, she was able to remember exactly why she needed to get him off her rather than let him get her off.

"Stop," she said, hoping she sounded firm. With one almighty shove he stepped back from her, looking crestfallen.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cold and formal. "I shouldn't have assumed…" His words trailed off but the look in his eye made her heart throb painfully.

"I only meant not here," she said, walking towards him until she could capture his lips in a quick, bruising kiss. He reacted instantly but, as his hands began to roam her body again, she stepped back. Grabbing at his hand, she started pulling him down the corridor, desperately searching for anywhere they could be alone. The Cabal would think they'd left the building, she reasoned, so it made sense to hide out here. Or that was the brand of logic she was going to use at this point in time. Getting Nikola naked was more important than running from the homicidal secret organization that were still after her

After maybe thirty seconds of searching, Helen decided to give up on looking for a bed and, as she spotted a supply closet, decided there was nothing wrong with a compromise at this point in time. She roughly opened the door, shoving Nikola through before following him, closing and locking the door behind her. As she turned around, Nikola pounced, pinning her against the door as his lips descended on hers. Again he grabbed her leg but this time she was more than happy to oblige the wandering fingers that shoved her skirt up until it bunched around her hips.

Nikola ground his hips into hers, causing Helen to gasp against his lips, hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as her mind tried to catch up with her body. When his tongue slipped into her mouth once more, she gave up all hope of coherent thought, so much so that he'd already unbuttoned her jacket completely before she even registered that his hands were moving. Suddenly realising how overdressed he was, Helen's hands frantically tore at his shirt, untying his cravat with trembling fingers. She fumbled with the buttons on his jacket but, soon after getting that open, she needed to feel his skin so she grabbed the top of his shirt and, with some difficulty, tore it open, buttons going everywhere. With a satisfied moan, she ran her fingers across the bare expanse of his chest, revelling in the muscles.

"God, Nikola," she breathed as his mouth found her pulse again. Suddenly, he pulled back enough to look her in the eye. After a few moments of loaded eye contact in the darkened room, he let the nails of one hand grow so that he could slice through the thin tank top Helen was wearing. She knew she should have been afraid of those nails but instead they only fuelled her need to get him out of his pants. With accuracy she didn't know she possessed, she undid his belt and yanked down the zip before cupping him through the thin fabric of his boxers. He hissed and thrust against her hand in a decidedly ungentlemanly manner. She couldn't help the smirk that grew on her lips but the moment she realised that he could see her reaction despite the dark, she regretted it. In a second his fingers were making their way up her thigh, pushing aside her panties and then, just as she realised his goal, he sunk two fingers into her, making her cry out his name throatily. Never before had she been so turned on so quickly and just having his fingers inside her brought her perilously close to the edge.

Using what little was left of her coherent brain, she began to stroke him frantically, hoping to seduce him into more drastic measures. Unfortunately, all it earned her was a few hard thrusts, twists and an extra finger as well as a heady moan as his head dropped to her shoulder before his lips began to trail hot, wet kisses across her collar bone and then, with some artful manoeuvring, across the tops of her breasts. As his talented tongue swept across her nipple through the fabric of her bra, she groaned and began thrusting her hips against his fingers, bring her closer and closer to release.

"Oh, God! Nikola, I…" she tried, words failing her as her eyes slid shut, her entire body tensing before her climax raced through her veins, making her cry out his name in earnest, her free hand pulling at his hair. When she finally came back down to earth, Nikola was easing his fingers out of her and she whimpered, still extremely sensitive.

"Are you alright?" he breathed against her lips. With a sated smile, she nodded before pulling his face down to hers, kissing him slowly.

"Thank you," she whispered, breaking the kiss.

"My pleasure," he said darkly. "Well, not quite but you get the idea," he joked and she laughed.

"Forever the gentleman," she quipped, adjusting herself in his arms and he chuckled.

"I haven't lost my touch," he said suggestively, leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue moving against hers in what very quickly became a fight for dominance. Helen found herself once again, desperate for his taste, his touch, him. In a matter of moments, they were pressed flesh against flesh and, with one, quick thrust, he was buried within her. Wrapping her other leg around his waist too, she pulled him closer, kissing him soundly as they began to move together. What started as a desperate reunion was, with every kiss, every stroke, every touch becoming sweeter, more loving and somehow more desperate. As together they spiralled out of control in each other's arms, the need to hold on to him brought tears to Helen's eyes and when, finally, finally they both found simultaneous release Helen's mind shut down completely, lost in the sensation, so foreign yet so… so…

"Love you," she whispered, tightening her grip on him as the roaring blood in her ears increased.

Minutes, hours, days later when she came to, she was pleased to find Nikola's head still buried in the crook of her neck. It took a few moments for her to realise he was speaking, saying her name softly, over and over again, voice still rough from his groans in her ear.

"The Cabal," he reminded her softly and she let out a groan as reality filtered back into her mind.

Gingerly, she lowered first one leg and then the other to the ground, wobbling slightly as he stepped away from her. Looking up at his smug grin, she rolled her eyes.

"It's good to see you too Nikola," she complained, beginning to straighten up her clothes.

He chuckled as he did the same, giving her a dirty look when he took in the state of his shirt. Only two buttons had survived her onslaught.

"I love the boots, by the way," he murmured once dressed, pushing her back against the door as his lips tickled her earlobe.

After letting a shiver move down her spine, Helen pushed him away, giving him a warning look.

"We have to get out of here," she said, doing up her buttons to cover up the ruined tank top. Shooting him a dirty look of her own, she re-adjusted her skirt.

"You owe me a shirt," he complained, fiddling with the fabric that hung of his frame.

"Just hurry up and make yourself presentable," she said, turning to open the door a crack.

"Who knew you'd be so grumpy after sex," he muttered, grabbing his ruined cravat off the floor and Helen could feel his eyes on her backside.

"Eyes up, Nikola," she said firmly, not turning to face him. She could almost hear his sigh of frustration and had to suppress a smile. "For now," she added, under her breath, well aware that he would hear her.

He chuckled as he stepped up behind her, pressing her against the door.

"I'm assuming you had a plan other than screwing me," he muttered into her hair.

"I'm fairly certain that was your plan, not mine," she replied, rolling her shoulders to give them a little distance.

"Semantics," he whispered as together, they stepped into the thankfully deserted corridor.