Author's Note: Completely pointless fluff.
Four A.M.
It's four in the morning, and Helena G. Wells is wide awake.
It's not the first time, either. During those months when she traveled alone to find information on the dagger, she rarely slept through the night. Her mind was too busy for restful sleep, filled with thoughts of what she was doing and wondering how the rest of the Warehouse team were faring. Those thoughts in turn led to thinking of Myka: wondering where she was, how she was, what she was doing, wondering if she was thinking of Helena.
When she rejoined the team during the sweating sickness plague, sleep became difficult for another reason entirely. Constant fear for her, Myka, and the others as they spent their days looking for a way to, as Claudia put it, "put the genie back in the bottle" meant that they all relied on naps to power through. Add the stresses of Leena's loss and Artie's illness, and it's a wonder the whole lot of them were able to sleep at all.
Now it seems as if Helena's body has become so used to an erratic sleep cycle that it is incapable of anything else. Fortunately, she now has something new to occupy her thoughts in these early-morning hours. Helena smiles as she looks at the woman curled up next to her. It's been several months since Myka finally admitted to her feelings for the inventor, and those months have been some of the happiest of Helena's long life. In many ways, Helena is still amazed that Myka is able to love her, especially given certain instances in their shared past. Yet somehow Myka has forgiven her, and has shown her that this new century is not all darkness. Every day, the pair work together, play together, grow closer together. Helena's smile widens as she thinks back to their first time in bed together, only a week or so after they began dating. They still sleep alone when one or the other is on a mission, but any time they are together they sleep in the same bed.
In the moonlight streaming in through the window, Helena once again studies Myka's features. The sheet has fallen or been pushed down to waist level, leaving Myka in just her tank top as she snuggles in to the other woman. Her dark hair is all mussed on the pillow, and her face is turned towards Helena, partially hidden in shadow. She looks relaxed, at ease, and Helena feels her heart swell with emotion. Whatever did she do to deserve this wonderful woman?
Almost as if she's heard the Briton's thoughts, Myka pulls away slightly, blinking sleepily up at her. "Helena? You okay? What time is it?"
Helena leans forward and plants a kiss on her lover's forehead. "I'm fine darling; just having a little trouble sleeping."
Myka frowns slightly, blinking heavily. "Sure you're okay?" she asks, fighting a losing battle with sleep. She is still awake enough to wrap her arm around Helena's waist.
"Positive," the older woman replies. She places her arm atop Myka's. "Go back to sleep."
"Okay," Myka manages. She burrows her head into Helena's collarbone. Barely a minute later, her breathing once again evens out.
Still smiling Helena kisses the top of Myka's head and wraps her arms more securely around the younger woman. Sleep is once again calling her. As she drifts off, Helena says a silent thank you to whoever was responsible for making four in the morning such a lovely time.