A/N Just a smut/fluff story to hopefully break me out of this writer's block
Myka detested traveling during the holidays. If it was not for the severity a two deaths from the artifact they now had tagged and bagged, Myka would have traded a year's worth of inventory to have avoided this;
"No if ands or buts Agent Bering," Artie huffing as he slammed the files down on the breakfast table in the sunroom of the B&B a week ago. Helena's surprise from the gruff agent showed for but an iota. Leena stilling the teapot over the older woman's cup. A faint smile lingered till the agent settled the shaking of her hand.
"No worries HG," Leena whispered near the agent's ear as Myka huffed, the loud scraping of the wooden chair legs across the floor causing all to turn at the tall woman now pacing the small sunroom, Leena winking at HG as they watched Myka rub at the back of her neck, no words escaping as she waved her arm at the retreating forms of Pete and Claudia rushing out the room.
"I am not happy with this either, but the Regents, in all their wisdom saw fit that …" Arties grumbled words cutting off as Mrs. Frederic cleared her throat.
"As agent Neilson is so eloquently vocalizing," her words halted as all heads snapped to the open French doors as she stood stoically near the jamb. "This is a need to know assignment agents Lattimer and Ms. Donovan," her face stone cold as she adjusted her black horn rimmed glasses, dark eyes narrowing at the two faces peeking around the edge of the kitchen.
"But Mrs. F, Mykas and I are the A-team and grandma here just got on board," Pete waving his hand at HG, refusing to look Myka in the eye as his gut churned.
"Thank you for your scientific reasons Agent Lattimer, but this case requires Agents Wells expertise in 19 century accutroms, coupled with Agent Bering's eidetic memory and sure shoot," the woman was saying in a monotone voice as she tugged down on the pink tweed coat.
"19th century porno be damn," Artie grumbled under his breath.
"Which are harming innocents, and two reported cases we know so far had caused two deaths, Arthur. This is not something to be dismissed even if the conditions cause concern or uncomfortableness" Mrs Frederic's cold even voice was without a hint of tone. "Ms Donovan is underage as is the emotional maturity of Agent Lattimer. Agent Wells is well versed in this centuries proclivities and Agent Bering provides ample reason, logic and self-control."
"Fine, give me the files," Myka huffed as she sat down, inching her chair away from Helena's seat at the small breakfast table as she scanned the files. "Where and when do we leave?' Myka's voice falling in defeat as she sat back, jerking her fingers away from Helena's hands as she reached for the files.
"New Orleans," Artie huffed as he slapped the plane tickets down on top of the files. "Oh, and a little reminder since your hotel will be located on Bourbon street during Mardi gras," as he handed out the bundle of cash. "No beads!" he glared at Helena.
XXX
"Why was Arthur looking so cross at me with the remark of beads?" Helena was asking, holding her carryon bag as she waited for the taller agent to stow their bags in the overhead compartments on the plane.
"May I?" came a soft, feminine voice, both women turning as the flight attendant was more fixated on the third opened button on Helena's blouse.
"Thank you," Helena replied as the woman helped, catching the side glare from Myka as she crossed her arms.
"Wait for it," Myka giving a low growl as she sat on the aisle seat, the flight attendendant taking extra care to lean over, and beads in hand, and eyes never leaving that third open button on HG's blouse.
"You will need an extra bag for all the beads," she winked. Both Myka and Helena leaning around the seats as they watched the woman sashay down the aisle.
Not a word was said as they buckled in, Helena confused (not a saint at the flirtations) that Myka had choose to say nothing at the exchange. An hour in and few Scotches later, Helena pulled the book out of Myka's hand. "Would you kindly explain this modern thing of beads? First time to New Orleans, my education of modern things still learning."
Helena crossed her arms as she received no response from the agent seated next to her. 'Desperate times' Helena whispered to herself after flagging down the attendant, two Scotches placed on their trays. Helena steeled herself, remembering the frank conversation from that time long ago they used to have as Myka educated her of modern times.
"Myka, what is the advantage of these so called freedom pads verses this Tampons? Back in my day, a special cloth was used"
Helena leaned back, giving a small chuckle at crimson that crossed Myka's face as she sipped her drink.
"Fine!" Myka huffed, slamming her unread book shut. "Here, in New Orleans, during this celebration, the more … cleavage you show" Myka stuttered as she waved at Helena's chest. "The more beads you collect. It is a drunken, debauchery tradition that still goes on." Myka sighed, willing her face to fade back to a light pink hue as she picked up her book.
"I would have given a treasure trove of beads just for the honor of seeing that button unleashed," Helena then leaning but yet not touching the third button on Myka's plum button up.
For a brief moment, green eyes were entranced by Mahogany, Myka's bottom lip subconsciously licking at dry skin.
"We are starting our final approach for landing and ask that all seats and trays are in their upright position.
XXX
"So, any idea what we are looking for, Claud?" Myka had already rushed into their small room, dialing up the Farnsworth before Helena had even had time to shut the hotel room door.
"Um, it's shaped ...polished Ivory with maybe leather straps …" Myka oblivious to red cheeks matching the young girl's hair.
"Shaped like what Claudia?" Myka's voice rough from the three hour drive from the airport and two hour crawl to their hotel. Helena snatched the Farnsworth away after tossing her suitcase on the bed.
Her first meeting with Myka at gunpoint gave her the respect of this woman and cut to the chase,
finally a modern woman that could match me;
Helena had thought, but so many months of getting to know the agent made her realize the deep seated, repressed desires crippled this modern woman she was slowly falling for. The mix of modern brash coupled with the demure of the heart of her time conflicted her head and heart. A few brief moments washed away the pain and revenge of over 100 years in bronze.
"A phallic shaped object," Helena said, the words causing both the younger women to stutter and blush.
"Of course, the lost strap on from the Marquis De Sade!" Artie's voice chiming in behind Claudia