Hey there :D.
It didn't take me long to get to work on a second B&W ficlet. Because let's face it, I can't get over those two. *cries*. This is a fluffy little thing which I probably will complete sometime this week with a second chapter.
Takes place after 4X01... Before Helena had to take that freaking astrolabe away (yeah, it feels so logical that H.G would for once follow orders and stay away from home, right?).
Anyway, enjoooooy!
Know that I'm always glad to hear from you via reviews, PMs or Facebook (link in my profile, don't be shy) :D. I send love!
The regents could rest assured- Myka was doing a fine job at keeping H.G Wells right were she was, trapped in her strong arms, utterly unable to move under the toned leg straddling her hips, paralyzed by those half-open lips that poured Myka's hot sleepy breath against Helena's collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
She was awoken by long hair tickling her neck. It had taken her a few minutes to recollect the events of the last few days – Her near-death experience, her abduction by Sykes, the way she had reintegrated her own body, Steve's death, the chess table and how Myka, her sweet Myka had almost died there, the warehouse, Artie's sudden change of heart about her, the long hours trying to get Claudia to talk to her and share her crushing sadness...
It took her more time to register where she was. Blame that on the long separation of body and mind. When she recognized Myka's room, Myka's body nearly crushing her and the smell of argan oil coming from her hair, Helena's muscles relaxed. Sighing contently, she closed her eyes again and focused on her own body, the sensations brought by her senses.
Sometime during the night, the sheets had moved upwards, leaving her feet bare, and the sweet light of dawn was now playing between her toes. She remembered quite vividly going to sleep spooned against Myka's front, yet she had turned in her sleep and was now flat on her back, and her spine hurt from the pressure of the young woman's arm, trapped between her and the mattress.
The T-shirt Myka had given her was not covering much anymore, so that the agent's fingers were flat on Helena's ribs. And as light as they were, the inventor was feeling them acutely, her skin hyper-sensitized by all those years of chastity spent in the bronze, or by those months separated from her feelings, or both. This was her first intimate touch in more than a century, and it turned her body and heart ablaze. Myka's pajama-covered core, pressed against her naked side was both comforting and arousing.
Focusing on her senses was a bad idea, she decided.
She had to find a way to disentangle herself from Myka's embrace if she wanted to keep her hands to herself. She intertwined their fingers easily enough to let her think that she could free her upper body, just enough to reach the night table in order to switch the light on, but she was fairly certain that the leg that kept her lower half against the bed wouldn't bulge until its owner was awake.
She was wondering what to do about it when her stomach growled rather painfully. Helena wrinkled her nose. Soon enough, Leena would be up and serving breakfast, and the smell of coffee and bread would be a torture if she couldn't get out of bed.
The sound of Myka's sleepy giggle surprised her, hot against her neck, and she shuddered. She hadn't imagined even one second that her friend had been awake the whole time.
"You hungry?" She asked, her voice still so heavy with sleep that H.G wondered if she wasn't only dreaming. Anyway, she was glad Myka wasn't yet as conscious as to notice just how hungry she was, and not only for food.
"Starving." She confessed, playing with one of Myka's loose curls.
Myka sighed, as if she wanted to let go from Helena's lithe body but was too exhausted to do so. The older woman was in no rush to be freed, not really, so she placed a tender hand on her cheek, maintaining Myka's face against her shoulder.
"You've gotta eat somethin'. But I should keep an eye on you." Myka groaned.
The logic of her early morning thoughts made Helena smirk.
"I can assure you, I have no intention of destroying the world before breakfast, darling."
"God bless English fussiness." Myka whispered, unaware that she was drooling – just a bit – on Helena's T-shirt.
That got a laugh out of the Englishwoman, who placed a kiss on top of the curly head nestled on her shoulder. Myka smiled, sighing happily.
Helena's stomach manifested itself a second time, and the young woman shifted, laying on her back, freeing Helena's middle from the weight of her leg, yet never letting go of her hand.
"I guess I should let you go then, before you die from hunger." She said, rubbing her eyes with her free hand.
Helena smiled, and gave Myka's hand a squeeze. Ignoring her lust and the desire in her heart to sleep in, she threw her legs out of the bed and rose.
"I promise I'll be back as soon as I've had a proper breakfast." She said, winking.
She took more time than necessary to put her clothes on, enabling her body to cool off and the butterflies to settle before leaving the room with a last glance for Myka's form. The inventor smirked – Myka was already back to sleep.