Disclaimer: I don't own Sanctuary or any of its characters. (If I did there would be a Season 5!)

One Hundred and Fifty-Five Years, Three Months and Four Days Old

"Oh Helen..."

She looked up from her desk at the grinning vampire leant against her office door frame, trademark glass of fine red in hand.

"Oh what?" Helen eyed him suspiciously, his smile far too smug for her liking. "What are you up to now?"

Nikola sauntered towards her not even trying to deny his guilt, perching on the edge of the desk and producing a second full glass seemingly from nowhere. He held it out to her and when she ignored it, set it down in front of her with a small shrug.

"Now why would you assume I'm up to something?"

"Because you're you." She answered dryly, returning to her paperwork. He merely chuckled and pushed her glass a few inches closer to her hand resting on the top edge of the report she was meant to be proofing. She sighed and looked at the beverage. "It's barely eleven AM. Some of us have work to do. Speaking of which, have you come any closer to resolving the power issues in the SHU?"

"All in good time Helen, all in good time," he drawled, still looking decidedly pleased with himself, "for now, we're celebrating."

"Celebrating what?"

"Our impending nuptials."

She stared at him for a moment before dropping her gaze to the glass and finally picking it up, deciding she was going to need it after all, regardless of whether it was still morning or not.

"That's one way to get my attention. I'm fairly sure you have to ask me for my opinion on the matter before going ahead and marrying me, and I don't remember being asked."

He smiled and set his glass down as she took her first sip. "Oh but it was you who did the asking."

"Mm... no I didn't." She squinted in mock thought.

"Oh but you did. You've forgotten."

She sighed and rubbed her temple. "Nikola, in the drawer just to my right is a pistol, my favourite pistol. If you don't stop prattling on, I'm going to shoot you with it."

He pouted momentarily but continued regardless.

"Today I am one hundred and fifty-five years, three months and four days old." He beamed, sipping his wine smugly as if that should mean something to her. She narrowed her eyes at him in exasperation.

"And?"

He stood, grinning. "Picture the scene. It's 1912, spring is just fading into summer, and in the early dawn, two weary party goers are making their way back to their hotel through Central Park, a beautiful, sexy, intelligent Doctor, and a tall, dark, handsome, genius physi..."

The unmistakable click of the safety being taken off a gun interrupted him.

"Get to the point Nikola."

"Ok, ok. So we were walking through the park and..."

Helen stopped and bent to remove her shoes, wobbling slightly from the effects of the alcohol she'd consumed earlier in the evening.

"You know Helen, if your feet were aching you could have just asked me to carry you the rest of the way." Nikola grinned, clutching her shoulder to steady her from a particularly violent vermouth induced sway.

"Cheeky. I'm quite capable of walking on my own." She practically giggled. Helen Magnus, giggling. She must have been sneaking drinks on the side, he realised, as she staggered into him, accepting his instinctive arm around her waist with a smile he could have sworn was more than a little bit satisfied.

"Not entirely dear... Come on, I'd say it's definitely time we got you to bed."

"Nikola! Are you trying to seduce me?" She giggled again.

"Not this time. You're far too drunk for that."

"I'm not drunk." She insisted seriously, with a plainly audible slur. He snorted in amusement. He didn't mind her being so inebriated in the slightest, she'd needed this considering recent events. Not to mention how much more inclined she was to physical contact with him.

They walked for a while longer in silence, save for the odd giggled apology or thanks when Helen tripped or staggered, held up by his gentle grip on her waist.

The pink-orange glow of the sun was just peeking through the low cloud over the city as the gates to the street came into view, and Helen let out a loud and, to Nikola's amusement, very un-Helen-like dramatic sigh.

"Something the matter?" He asked with a grin. She turned to him with a serious expression.

"I don't think I've thanked you properly for looking after me so well since... I arrived."

His smile faltered momentarily at the memory of just how she had turned up in New York.

Her visit had been planned in advance, and he had been following the progress of her voyage with interest, as had most of the city. The news that the Titanic had gone down was met with horror and disbelief, but Nikola hadn't, in truth, been overly concerned. It was Helen after all, when did any of her trips go to plan?

And then the news of just how bad the situation was had trickled through, and all of a sudden, Nikola began to think that maybe she wasn't quite as fine as he had first assumed. He had gone to Pier 54 three days after the disaster when the Carpathia docked, as had forty-thousand others eager to confirm the safety of their loved ones on board.

When the rescued Titanic passengers began to disembark, he'd found bruised and thoroughly chilled women and children, barely any men amongst them, and no Helen. No information, no name on the incomplete list of survivors, and impatient to know her fate, his last option was to check with those left onboard. He'd paid a steward on the pier a healthy bribe, as had a handful of others who could afford it, and paced the boards where the destitute, the shocked or those too sick to move had not yet been unloaded. The ship was readying for a fast turn around, intending to resume its original journey interrupted by the rescue of the Titanic's tragically small number of survivors.

A glimpse of blonde ringlets, significantly more frizzy and tangled than he was used to, had him running up to the covered upper deck, where a shivering, bedraggled but gloriously alive Helen Magnus perched on a bench under a rough tartan blanket looking out at the city. He'd let out a shuddering breath of relief that made her look up at him, realising belatedly that he was there. She tried to smile but he could see the pain in it. He knelt in front of her and pulled her into his arms without bothering to ask permission. She sank into him and he knew she'd needed the contact as much as he had.

"I thought you were dead."

"So did I." She'd replied, her voice barely a whisper and muffled against his chest.

He'd given her his suit jacket and thick coat to ward off the torrential rain beating down on the sombre dock, and escorted her off the ship and away from the desperate milling crowds.

"Nikola? Stop thinking about it, I'm fine." She smiled at him, bringing him back to the park and the rapidly rising sun casting a warm glow on her red cheeks.

"Sorry. You were about to thank me I believe." He smirked salatiously, distracting them both from the circumstances of her arrival in the city.

She chuckled at him and stroked his cheek with chilly fingers before setting off again, staggering only a tiny amount.

"That was it?"

"What else would you like?" His eyebrows shot up and she looked back and laughed at him. "Not that."

He smiled and hurried to join her, taking her arm companiably again.

"I wasn't going to suggest anything saucy. Doctor Magnus, you have such a filthy mind when you're sozzled." She giggled again. "I can pick anything?"

"Within reason." She warned dryly.

He thought for a minute, and unable to come up with anything better, said what he knew she was expecting, just to humour her. "Well I can think of at least a dozen things you could do when we get back to the hotel."

"Nikola!" She smacked his arm and laughed heartily, that sound alone worthy compensation despite the rejection. "You're very funny."

They went back to walking in silence for a moment, picking up the pace slightly so that they stood a chance of getting back to the hotel in time before they were spotted and shamed by the social elite, not that Nikola cared much. He could quite happily have stopped time right then and there.

"I'll marry you."

"What?" Nikola thought he must have slipped into a daydream and misheard her.

"I'll marry you." She repeated, nodding as though it was the only option left to them in a great unsolved problem they had been working on. He simply looked at her without expression.

"You're more drunk than I thought..."

"Don't you want to marry me?" He knew she was joking, but the mock hurt was so good it briefly looked real.

"No."

She gaped briefly. "Well that's nice. Why not?" This time she actually did look offended.

He let out an amused snort. "It's marriage. Does there need to be a reason other than that?"

"Good point. But I will. I will marry you. If we're both still unmarried when you're... one hundred and fifty-five years old. And three months. And four days. I will marry you." She confirmed.

"Any reason for that specific age, apart from it being so random and far in the future you think I won't remember?" He asked with a grin.

"Yes, that's the reason." She nodded again. He laughed and tugged her arm so he could kiss the top of her head as she stumbled into him. She righted herself and glared at him.

"Too bad for you I'll remember then."

"I'll hold you to that." She said with another notable slur, bending to put her shoes back on with a few hops to keep her balance, and striding out of the looming park gates with her head held high.

Nikola shook his head with amusement and followed her, filing this gem of a story away for the perfect time.

"And here it is, the perfect time arrived at last." He smirked at her from his position across the desk from her. Helen looked at him blankly over steepled fingers.

"And? You want me to make good on my promise?"

"Good God no." He finished his wine off and put the glass down on the desk. "I just wanted to prove I remembered the number you came up with. Don't you know me at all?" He admonished with a tut.

Helen thunked her head into her hands with a smile. Sitting up straight she picked up her pen and started work again. He took that as his cue to leave, rising gracefully, sauntering to the door, smug smirk firmly in place.

"It's a shame really," she said, smiling to herself, without looking up. "it'd be one hell of a wedding night."

Nikola froze in the doorway and looked back, shock replacing the smirk momentarily. "Minx."

He was sure he heard her purr in answer as he walked out.