Chapter 2 - Change the rules? Change the game
Twizzlers, scotch and Truth or Dare.
2 of 3 thanks so much for reading!
"Truth or Dare..." Helena played the words over. "It sounds obvious, but for my own safety, please clarify the rules."
Myka had cleared away the chess pieces, and motioned for Helena to follow her to the bed. In a moment of rebellion, Myka grabbed the scotch. This earned Myka a raised eyebrow, but if she didn't know better, also a look of approval.
"What? This is our sleep over. Twizzlers, scotch and Truth or Dare." They sat together, leaning against the wall, and Myka covered them both in their single blanket.
"You can choose... Truth or Dare. If you choose Truth, I can ask you anything -anything at all- and you have to tell me honestly."
"And how would you know?" Helena asked, looking Myka up and down with a smile.
"Oh, I'll know. And if I suspect you're lying, you have a forfeit dare."
"This does sound fun. Are there any... boundaries for the dares? Will I need a safe word?" Helena asked, looking wicked. Myka could almost see her brain ticking.
"No..." Myka said, hesitant even as the word left her lips. Well, they were stuck in a room alone. At least they could only hurt, maim, embarrass, or enrage each other.
"Ok, me first. Dare." Helena said, fearless. Myka's heart grew at the sight of Helena, so happy and at ease. She'd start easy.
"Eat a Twizzler." Myka said, offering Helena the packet. Her nose scrunched in disapproval.
"Very well, for you."
Helena picked out a Twizzler, and took a bite. Myka had to laugh at the expressions that played across her face: displeasure, intrigue, dislike, then finally, enjoyment. "What an odd texture. But not entirely bad." Helena continued to eat her Twizzler, without complaint. "Your turn, my dear."
"Truth." Myka said, for no other reason that she was warm and comfortable sat right next to H.G. under their blanket, and didn't want to move. She wondered if it was a decision she would later regret.
"Have you ever been in love?" Helena asked, glancing sideways at Myka.
"Wow, and I started you off easy." Myka said, but still smiling. There was an age old loophole that Helena was not yet privy too. Unfortunately, it would only work once. "Yes, I've been in love."
"How many times, when, and with whom?" Helena asked, clearly getting into their game.
"ah-ah, no can do. Truth is a single question. If you want to ask me another question, I'll happily answer you, but you'll have to wait for the next turn." Myka smirked, triumphant.
"You knew I'd fall for that, didn't you?" Helena asked, visibly disappointed.
"Some girls play chess, some girls know stupid loop holes to Truth and Dare."
Helena leaned over and picked out another Twizzler. Myka raised an eyebrow, silently saying: I told you so. "Your pick, Helena."
"Dare."
"I dare you to choose Truth, instead." Myka retorted. Helena conceded with a nod.
"Truth."
"Have you ever been in love?" Myka asked, mirroring Helena's question.
"Oh, a hundred and one times, for a night at least." Helena smirked, and Myka blushed at her meaning. "For longer? Just the once."
"Really? In a hundred and fifty years? Just once?"
"And in the hundred and fiftieth year, at that." Helena said, causing Myka's heart to miss a beat. "Let's just say this new world isn't all bad, after all." Myka motioned to ask another question, but Helena stopped her before she began.
"No, sorry, I've told you more than enough for one turn of this game." Her eyes flittered between Myka's eyes, and lips. "Your turn."
"Truth." Myka decided. It seemed the lesser of two evils. Helena looked around the room for inspiration.
"If you could turn back the clock for a couple of hours, would you change the events of today?"
Myka thought on it, and on her companion. It seemed that time travel was embedded into Helena's mind, a constant reminder of her failings; a jagged sword.
"Yes." Myka decided. She loved that Helena was disappointed.
"Oh,"
"If I could turn back the clock on tonight, I would definitely have packed my pajamas, and maybe brought us a picnic." Myka laughed at Helena's relief.
"Me too. And maybe more Scotch. This isn't all bad, being trapped here, is it?" Myka shook her head, happy. It almost seemed like too much of a coincidence. But she wouldn't dwell on that, just yet.
"Your turn, Helena."
"Dare." Helena said immediately, and Myka wondered if she was avoiding Truth all together, after the previous round. Myka thought hard. She eyed up the old brown jacket on the floor, and inspiration hit.
"Go into that closet, and dress up in ancient old man clothes."
"Darling, don't you think I've spent enough of my years pretending to be a man?"
"Don't interrupt! Just like Truth, a Dare has to be one sentence."
"Very well," Helena nodded, and waited for her fate.
"Go into that closet, dress up in ancient, unfashionable man clothes, then..." the look on Helena's face -the suspense- was killing her. Myka decided to be kind. "Then... take them off again." Myka laughed. It felt wonderful.
"Alright." Helena got up, with a hint of rebellion in her eyes that Myka had seen before... and it had never once ended well.
Myka watched Helena search in the wardrobe for the items that offended her the least. She lifted them to her nose tentatively, deeming they were clean. Of course, she pulled out a plain white shirt, and a waist coat.
Helena stripped an instant, not even trying to hide behind the wardrobe door. Myka looked away, giving Helena some privacy. She spied black underwear in her peripheral vision, and blushed. She heard, as well as imagined, Helena stepping into trousers much larger than her petite waist, and fastening the belt tight.
"Myka, darling, would you do my tie for me?" Helena asked, so innocently. Her eyes told a different story. Helena was still buttoning up the large shirt when Myka walked to the wardrobe, and found the most offensive tie that she could see in there: a mustard yellow one. She moved forward and hooked the tie around the shorter woman's neck, then gently lifted her collar up.
"Would you like a Windsor, or a Half-Windsor, Mr. Wells?" Myka asked, determined to not be bested by her. From her slightly taller vantage point, Myka could see right down Helena's unbuttoned shirt, and she wondered whether Helena was buttoning from the bottom upwards intentionally to rattle her. Well, either way, it was working.
"Which ever is the easiest for you to remove." Helena replied, like silk. The woman had a way of making even the most innocuous sentence sound like foreplay. It was always Myka's downfall. She concentrated on not letting her hands fumble as she tied the tie. The chill in the room was long forgotten.
"There." Myka stepped back, admiring her work. It was impossible; how could Helena look so ravishing in comedically large trousers, an over-sized white shirt, and mustard tie? "You're beautiful." Myka whispered, before she could stop herself. She blushed deeper still, and moved back to the bed for her own sanity. Helena acted like she hadn't heard.
Helena finished her look with a grey waistcoat, and finally a brown hat. Everything clashed and jarred, and yet she was somehow stunning. She cocked the rim towards Myka in salute, and grabbed the scotch.
"What? I'm getting into character." Helena took a large drink from the bottle, and passed it to Myka. Myka did the same, eyes never leaving Helena's as she drank.
"Well, what he lacked in fashion sense, he certainly made up for in expensive whiskey." Myka declared, and laughed. She suddenly felt guilty. "Are we being disrespectful?" Helena was quick to reassure.
"Not at all. We're shedding light on this deceased man's eccentricities, and celebrating them. He's been dead for decades, Myka, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Helena had a way with words. She could probably talk her way out of anything. But Myka supposed it was true. If this were her room - and it might very well be, one day - she wouldn't mind a little fun, once in a while.
"Alright. I guess you're right. We should drink to him." Myka raised the scotch, took a more tentative sip, and Helena did the same. The scotch was certainly having an effect. Or maybe that was Helena. Who knew?
"To our fellow, fallen agent. Thank you for letting us remain safe in your old room. And, by the way, I really do like the tie." Helena said, saluting the bottle towards the ceiling.
"Alright then. My turn. Truth." Myka said, and took the bottle from Helena. She didn't drink from it, but felt she might need it before the next round of interrogation was through. It had never been her drink, whiskey, but the heady flavours and the sweet burn only enhanced her mood, tonight.
"Not quite yet, Myka. I believe my task is still in play." Her rebellious look returned, and Myka wondered what she had missed. "You asked me to put on the clothes... and take them off." Helena said, in her most flirtatious voice. She cocked her hat once more, and threw it at Myka. She started to sway her hips, to some invisible, sensual, music, and began to unbutton her waistcoat from the top down.
"Helena!" Myka exclaimed, laughing, and blushing, and... aroused. Helena's eyes never left hers. She bit her bottom lip, and un-fastened the second button.
"What, don't you want me to?" Helena asked, mock surprised. Myka stammered, lost for words. Helena sensed her weakness, and attacked.
"Truth. Do you want me to take of my clothes off for you... right... now?" Helena teased, with confidence Myka was jealous of. She couldn't look away.
"Truth?" Myka croaked.
"Only the truth, Myka. Please, tell me." Helena reveled in her discomfort. She was so secure in her own skin, in a way that Myka had never been. She was hypnotizing.
Myka was torn; being pulled a hundred different ways, inside. Inside, the heat below was screaming: yes. But could they come back from this? could they ever brush this off as a joke? Would she even want to? Myka took a drink of scotch -her lifeline- and passed the bottle to Helena, who took a long pull, and passed the bottle back. Her eyebrow raised in a silent question: Well?
"Well, it's part of your dare, I suppose you have to." Myka evaded, with a laugh that she wished sounded more confident. Helena was not appeased.
"That wasn't the question, and you know it." Helena accused, apparently impressed, but entirely aware, of Myka's evasion tactics. How had this happened? how was she losing her own game? And if this was losing, did she even want to win?
Myka looked Helena in the eyes, deeply, letting every emotion play on her face.
"Yes. Take your clothes off. For me." Myka breathed, and every invisible wall inside her came crashing down. There was no going back now.