But I'm gonna love you

You say maybe it'll last this time

But I'm gonna love you

You never have to ask

I'm gonna love you

'Til you start looking back

I'm gonna love you,so right

I wouldn't need a second chance

- Bright Light and Cityscapes, Sara Bareilles


Stepping into the shower, Helena was grateful for the simple pleasure of sweet smelling soap and hot water. She immediately recognized the scents as belonging to Myka. The sensory memories washed over her in rapid succession. She pushed her hands against opposite walls to keep herself upright. She could not both keep her feet and keep her emotions in check. Hot tears streamed down her face. She cried for the daughter she lost a century ago, for the self imposed torture of being bronzed, for her betrayal of those who cared for her, for the nice man and little girl she left behind and for the fragile sick woman.

Oh Myka. How unfair life had been to the young woman. How unfortunate in the past few years that she was central to the tragic projection. And yet, when Helena climbed into the hospital bed there was no hesitation. The sick woman knew exactly who was holding her and sunk farther into her embrace. Forgiveness tasted strange to the inventor and she could never possibly feel worthy. But this was not the time to question such things. For Myka to have a chance at survival now, being surrounded with love and hope would be essential. And hope was something Helena only associated with the young agent. A single kiss and Helena could practically hear little feet running through their home. With determination she righted herself, rinsing away soap and tears alike. She promised that she would make every moment count. She would construct happiness in the forest of illness and tragedy. This would be enough. She would be enough.

She stepped out of the shower, drying quickly and wrapping her long hair in a towel. She looked around realizing she hadn't thought to bring clothes with her. Shivering, she snuck into the room moving as stealthily as possible. As she bent over, she felt eyes running up the length of her long legs. Slowly she stood and rounded to face the bed with clothing in hand. She allowed her trademark smirk to spread as she stalked towards the bed.

"See something you like, darling?"

"I've certainly had less pleasant views."

"Could you not sleep?"

"Just couldn't quite relax."

"Give me just a moment to put these on and we will see if I can't find something to put you at ease."

Helena dressed as quickly as possible and pulled her hair up and off her shoulders, before returning and selecting a worn copy of a familiar book. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that in 2013 she would be sitting reading The Time Machine to a woman she so desperately longed to love. While she did not pen every word herself, Charles had been of some help, the pages contained so much of her. Nor could she have conjured such beautiful green eyes. They were the kind of eyes that penetrated her very soul with a fleeting glance. As she carefully opened the fragile folios, she could feel the hours of life the woman she loved left within the pages. Settling in to read, a far too slender arm slid into the crook of her elbow as a head came to rest on her shoulder. When she glanced out of the corner of her eye, she saw a dreamy smile. A smile she missed more than she'd realized. A smile she would traverse more than half the globe to see again.


Myka awoke to the door closing with a moment of panic. However, it receded as quickly as it arrived when she felt the steady breath of her sleeping companion rhythmically hitting her shoulder. She looked up to find Vanessa approaching the bed. Subconsciously she reached for Helena, waking her.

"Forgive me for waking you both. I wanted to check your vitals again, Myka." The doctor efficiently went about checking heart rate, pulse, clarity of her lungs and hydration level. "I think I will take another small blood sample just to be safe. I want to see your white blood count."

The young woman complied, immediately offering her arm. Helena regarded the scene with sadness as it was clearly something she would be observing frequently. Softly she reached out, placing a cool hand on the young woman's cheek and turning her head towards her.

"Did you rest, my darling?"

"I did. There is nothing quite like having a long dead author read to you."

"Vanessa, you best run some additional tests. She is already resorting to age jokes. That simply cannot be a good sign."

The agent swatted playfully, causing a throaty giggle from the inventor. The offending hand was swiftly captured and brought reverently to pink lips.

"It does appear as though you are feeling better. Are you hungry?" Vanessa inquired.

"I am, actually."

"Wonderful. There is a group of people who are dying to have dinner with you. Would you be up to a small dinner party in your room?"

Myka looked at Helena, asking permission. The Brit nodded slightly in agreement. "That would be really nice. Thank you, Vanessa."

"Oh I wish I could take credit. But I must say that Miss Donovan will be over the moon. We will give you two half an hour to get ready for us."

Helena stretched trying to chase the sleep from her limbs, again catching green eyes surveying her body. This time they settled on the patch of skin bared by gap between her shirt and pants. Before she could come up with a witty retort, a frail hand caressed the muscles of her abdomen. Enjoying the sensation, she placed her hand reassuringly on top of the exploring digits interweaving their fingers. The woman happily hummed in response.

"My darling, I promise to provide ample opportunities to continue this exploration, but we should get ready for company. Are you comfortable in what you are wearing?"

"Very. But could you help me to the bathroom?"

"You needn't even ask. Anything."

Helena watched proudly as the young woman carefully moved her own limbs with determination. The delicate lips were set in a firm line as rarely used muscles tensed and moved. The green eyes sparkled as they connected with the warm cocoa orbs. Myka allowed the slender arm to help steady her weight as she got to her feet. She walked primarily under her own power smiling gently as she closed the door for privacy. She knew the inventor would hover outside the door worrying, but she needed to do it on her own.

The trip was successful, but a bit draining. The young woman allowed her companion to support more of her weight on the return back to bed. In her absence, the bed was brought into a more upright position. Steady loving hands tucked her securely back in pulling up a beloved quilt. Once again, the Victorian woman placed a sweet kiss on the sick woman's lips. Quiet knocking at the door broke them apart, but did little to dispel the mood.

The first through the door was the youngest agent. She brought with her an air of bounding enthusiasm. She put down the tray of food in order to be able to throw her arms around the wayward agent.

"H.G., I am so glad you are back."

"As am I, my dear."

"Hey, old lady," a playful voice drifted in from the hallway. "Mind if the rest of us come in."

"Of course not, Peter. Please, do come in."

In through the door streamed the small broken family that Helena hadn't been able to admit that she missed almost as much as the woman she loved. Steve came carrying chairs for himself and Pete setting them next to the bed, as Claudia climbed onto the quilt snuggling next to Myka. Artie settled into the comfortable reading chair as Vanessa perched on the arm leaning comfortably into the often-grumpy man. Helena watched the group assemble enjoying the love flowing freely between them. Tentatively she moved towards the open space on the bed. In response youngest of the group grabbed her arm and pulled her down into a seated position.

Abigail walked among the group handing out soup and sandwiches. Myka appreciatively took a mug of potato soup. Of course she made her favorite. Part of her was surprised that Abigail was still trying. For the last two months, she knew she was particularly difficult. The general nausea caused by her medication made most cuisine unappetizing. Paired with the depression driven by both the situation and her illness, Myka turned into an angry patient. She knew that the group tried not to hold it against her, no matter how biting her comments became. She hoped that in time she would be able to apologize to them properly. Not that they required an explanation, but she still longed to offer one.

She started with small mouthfuls savoring the flavor. The first divine bite caused her eyes to flutter closed. She didn't remember the last time that she'd eaten real food. She opened her eyes to meet a warm smile from the new keeper of the Bed and Breakfast. She offered one of her own in return, before turning her attention back to the mug. Around her the voices of her friends bounced playfully. Pete and Helena engaged in witty banter. It pleased her that their relationship was so thoroughly improved. She under estimated Pete's ability to forgive. He would always be one of her most fierce protectors, but due to his uncanny vibes seemed to understand the shift in their relationship.

Finishing her food, she leaned her head back against the bed allowing her eyes to drift shut. In a sleepy haze, she felt the mug lifted from her hands. Much to her delight the voices continued to sound around her lulling her into sense of deep peace. Lips pressed against her temple and a soft voice whisper,

"I'm so glad you came home, Mykes."