Alexander O'Connell had been around, to say the least. Twenty-two years old, and he'd traveled to exotic locations no one had ever heard of to battle supernatural beings no one would ever believe; he'd officially been enrolled in seven secondary schools and three universities (eventually graduating from Oxford with a tenuous degree in history, having only earned a bare minimum of credit in all his other required classes); though it would take years to match his parents' finds, he'd already earned a reputation with universities and museums as one of the best guys to have on your side when some artifact or another needed "acquiring"; not to mention, he had met and for the past three years had been engaged to the woman who most could only describe as his one true love.

That was where things took a bit of a funny turn.

Alex loved Lin very much, and there was no way to deny that he could very well spend the rest of his life with her, but (like any man) he had his doubts: firstly, Lin seemed to want the rest of their lives to start much sooner than Alex did—having already spent roughly 2,000 years tirelessly guarding the tomb of the most dangerous being either of them had ever encountered (plus three more years traversing the unknown world with her fiancée), she seemed to believe it was time to settle down and have a family. Alex, on the other hand, had been blessed/cursed with the restlessness of a Carnahan-O'Connell, and knew deep down that many years would have to pass before he was ready for the same stationary life than Lin so ardently advocated. Secondly – and this was the slightly less tricky of the two catches, though it had been nagging at the back of his mind for some time now – though Lin was his true love, she was by no means the only one.

Sometimes, Helena seemed more like a figment of Alex's imagination than an actual memory. They'd met during his first week at Brigadier-Lial Academy -- he remembered, September 7, 1944 -- in the nowhere town of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. Exclusive as it was, BLA only had 207 students at the time, only 53 of whom were seniors like himself, so everybody knew and anticipated reputed wild child Alex O'Connell's arrival. Some of them stared in disgust (the teachers), some in appreciation and curiosity (the boys), some in unabashed awe (the girls)—only one didn't seem to notice him at all.

"Who is that?" Alex finally asked his lab partner, Roy Thomas, during their fourth day of advanced chemistry.

"Hmm?" replied the black haired boy, glancing up from their experiment to find out where Alex was looking.

"That one," he emphasized, nodding towards the far left lab table and the lone girl who sat there, absentmindedly completing the instructions on the board while simultaneously seeming to assist the struggling blonde across the isle. "The one who won't give me the time of day."

Roy chuckled, shook his head, and continued the lab. "Don't stare, Alex, I thought you were smoother than that."

"I am!" he protested indignantly, turning quickly back to the blank loose-leaf paper before him. "I'm just curious, is all."

"Her name's Helena Casey Pallworth. All I know is that she's got nice legs and a brain for chemistry."

Alex smirked, though it faded quickly when he glanced at the girl once more and saw that she still had yet to acknowledge his existence. How was he possibly less interesting than chemistry? "Come on, Roy, that's not fair. You've gotta have something better than that."

"Fine," the other boy sighed, swiveling towards Alex and lowering his voice. "Remember that plane crash over the Andes last year? Killed those two art collectors and like fifteen of their closest friends?"

Nodding, Alex tried to recall the incident. It'd been in the papers for weeks, especially after… "Right, right, and then a ton of stuff came out about CIA involvement or something? Some kind of cover-up that had everybody searching for whatever the Pallworths had supposedly been about to announce the discovery of…" Suddenly, he stopped. "Pallworth. The Pallworth tragedy. The museum people. You mean…"

"Like I said. Helena Casey Pallworth."

"Their daughter."

Roy nodded solemly.

"That's terrible," Alex sympathized, looking back at the girl across the room and deciding not to pry any further. He knew what it was like to lose a parent, even if it had only been for a matter of minutes. Helena had light skin with a few freckles across her nose and cheekbones, brown hair in big, loopy curls that were pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, a slim but still athletic build, and, as Roy had pointed out, never-ending legs. You had to love school uniforms, if not solely for their flattery of the female figure, Alex mused to himself, though his thoughts were cut short when he realized that he was looking not at her legs, but at her eyes, and her eyes were looking back. The look in them was different from the simpery, lustful one most of the girls at BLA gave him, and Alex wasn't entirely sure what to do, so he just smiled and gave a quick upward nod. In retrospect, he thought, it probably looked a little too much like a come-on. Helena looked a little confused, but smiled back slightly and returned to her test tube, now intently focused on its contents and their interactions. The blonde next to her, having noticed the interaction, giggled and poked her friend subtly in the ribs. Helena just laughed silently and shook her head, futilely pretending not to have noticed.

"Be careful," warned Roy jokingly, "If you're too nice to her, half the girls at this school will have put a price on her head by Monday."

For a moment, Alex closed his eyes and grinned, basking in the ego boost that came with being the new kid, the mysterious kid, and the absolute center of attention for one (or maybe even two) awesome week(s). Girls at his feet, teachers on their guard—it was nothing short of…

The end-of-class bell suddenly rang loudly, cutting short his reverie. Having only five minutes to make it up two flights of stairs and across the length of the building to his next class, Alex scrambled to repack his satchel full of books, papers, and broken or extremely short pencils. By the time he looked up, half the class had already smoothly packed their things and moved on, Helena included. He cursed his messiness, knowing he wouldn't be able to catch up with her until lunch in – he checked his watch – roughly three hours. Damn.