In this chapter: All the questions will be answered. Hopefully.

Author Notes: (post note - we also hope that this will be a bit of a distraction from everything that's been going on. With love, KB and SS.)

Thank you all for reading. We hope you enjoyed the ride! We certainly did writing it.


Of all the times Pete, Steve and Myka had waited in cells for Mrs. Frederic to come and bail them out, this was quite possibly the longest. Every time one of the other followers asked a question, the three simply looked at the ground and kept quiet, not wanting to give away anything, not even the fact that they know each other.

Pete was the first to break the charade, when he leaned into Myka who sat next to him and whispered in her ear "What's taking so frakkin' long?"

But Myka, who's mind was somewhere else entirely (not in this cell, not with her team, not even with Helena, even though she cradled her head in her lap), just shrugged wearily and sighed.

The cell door opened some time later; Myka had long since spaced out completely - her mind untethered, her body reeling with pain - her way of dealing with the roller coaster of emotions this day had become.

"You four," the guard said, pointing at them. "Time to go."

He glared at them as they manoeuvred Helena's lifeless body between them, shuffling her out of the cell with great care. Clearly the military police weren't happy that they were being released. Myka was too tired to care.

She put her earpiece in straight away, automatically when it was returned with her weapons and badge. The guy behind the desk stared at her tesla curiously but she just gave him a wan smile.

"Mykes?"a voice in her ear said. It was Claudia.

"Yeah, I'm here Claud," she said wearily.

"Sorry for the delay. We were gooing the Bell; had to be done before we got y'all free. Is HG okay?"

"She's unconscious," Myka said, joining the guys who were holding Helena between them.

"Okay. We'll pick you up outside and get you back to the Warehouse, lickety-split," Claudia said.

She was true to her word; they were in a military transport helicopter within 30 minutes. The journey to the Warehouse took a while - it always did - but at least they were in their way home.


Helena opened her eyes and out of instinct tried to stretch. She couldn't. It felt like her hands were bound at the wrists. So, with the same instinct, she tried to sit up to see what was going on, but she couldn't. Her chest appeared to have been strapped as well. She tried to look around her, with what little movement she had, determining that she was in her old room at the B&B.

She took a slow breath in and tried to move her head a bit further, to check if there was anyone in the room with her, but she couldn't move at all.

"Rise and shine, HG or the Evil Lord of the Bell," Claudia's voice rang from across the room. "With whom do we have an audience today?" her voice was suspicious, maybe even menacing, and that's all Helena had to go on, because the words Claudia was saying didn't make a lot of sense to her.

She tried desperately to remember what had happened, to have only come up with nothing.

Not exactly nothing, but images, glimpses of things - of Myka being crushed in front of her in an underground room, of Myka on a TV screen being tortured, of Myka in her hotel room half naked.

None of it made any sense.

"Claudia..." she said, or tried to say. It came out as a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Claudia. How did I get here? I was in my hotel, and I remember speaking with Myka and that's all."

Her mouth was filled with the taste of rust. She turned her head a little, hearing some movement, and Claudia stepped into her line of sight.

"So, you're, like, actually you? HG Wells, crazy time-travelling genius?"

Helena raised her eyebrows.

"I suspect I'm going to regret asking this question, but here it is: who else would I be?"

Claudia eyed her on-again/off-again idol questioningly. From everything they knew about artefacts like the Bell, memory loss was not uncommon. Hell, it was probably a blessing.

But according to Myka's version of events, Helena was supposed to still be Helena until after they were tortured in the riverside warehouse, and Helena is saying that she can't remember stuff from before.

"I don't buy it," Claudia said, matter of fact. "I think you remember more," the young agent crossed her arms decisively. "Walk me through everything that happened from the moment you landed in Philly."

"I...," Helena began, closing her eyes. "I don't remember much, Claudia. And some of it can't be true. Surely."

Claudia shrugged. "Let's hear it, anyway." Her eyes were hard.

Helena sighed. "Fine. I remember checking in to my hotel. I had a lead on the Bell, which I had intended to contact Artie about. I was... cautious about approaching such an artefact alone, without backup."

Claudia raised one eyebrow sceptically.

"After that, it's all a blur. I see only images. Of Myka, injured and being hurt. On a screen, and being crushed on the floor of some underground room. And..." she hesitated.

"And what, Helena?" Claudia asked. The snap of command was clear in her voice.

"And... Myka and I. In a... sexual encounter. I can't remember it properly; it's just images. It can't be true, can it?" she asked, and her tone was pleading. Whether it was pleading for Claudia to confirm or deny what she remembered, Helena couldn't say.

This was why Claudia hated interrogating people. This was also why she thought she was bad at it. Because the minute HG's eyes turned soft and weepy and were really HG's eyes (and not the weird Bell eyes she had before), all she wanted to do was help her friend, to give her a squeeze of reassurance. But HG was not her friend yet. She wasn't sure of it. She needed to ask more questions. That's what Myka would do, she convinced herself. "Why can't it be true, HG?" she asked after clearing her throat, because - really – she wasn't sure she'd like the answer.

Helena slumped on the bed and sighed deeply. She wanted to reach for her locket, as if she was asking her heart why it couldn't be true, that her and Myka would finally... But her arms were still bound. "Because I've loved her for so long, I had lost any hope of her returning the sentiment," she whispered meekly.

Claudia swallowed the lump in her throat and bit on the inside of her cheek to keep her tears at bay, because, ohmigod, she could kinda see how Myka and HG will be riding into the sunset together and that would be *so* awesome. "Since when?" Claudia asked, some out of curiosity, but mostly out of the need to verify how much HG this person really was.

"Honestly?" Helena mulled the question over.

Claudia hummed silently with a nod even though HG's statement was rhetorical.

"Since the second time I saw her, pointing that gun at me," Helena remembered with a soft smile. "Those piercing eyes of hers... Those strong arms..." she added dreamily.

"So why didn't you do anything about it back then? It was painfully obvious she was all hot for you as well."

Helena turned her head and looked at Claudia mischievously. "The reason is something I do not wish anyone to know about me, dear Claudia," she said. "Can I trust you with it, darling?"

Claudia shifted uncomfortably, because it felt like she was being manipulated a little bit, which meant there could still be some of the Bell in HG, or, on second thought, it could just be HG. Helena was no stranger to manipulation. "Sure," she answered and refrained from adding a quip about taking it with her to her grave, because she didn't feel confident enough that she won't be winding up there soonish, with this Bell crap still not settled.

"I am a romantic," Helena whispered.

Claudia quirked a brow.

Helena's eyes were clear, their irises brown and warm and glistening as she testified, "I would not have marred the sincerity of my feelings for her with what might have been seen as part of my ploy," she explained.

Claudia's questioning expression remained.

"I did not want to appear to be taking advantage," Helena simplified.

"What with the Warehouse 2 expedition and the trident and all..." Claudia started and tapered off, Helena nodding in front of her, as best she could. Claudia wanted to know more, wanted to share with HG what Myka had gone through. How broken she had become after that ordeal. How difficult all that was for her.

Instead, she chose to focus on what HG just shared with her. "So under all the Victorian genius, suave facade and hardcore steampunk kickassery you're a squishy cuddly toy?" she tried to sound incredulous, taking her interrogation up a level.

"Does it really surprise you that much, Claudia? To know that I have real feelings?" Helena asked, and her voice was small, as if she was genuinely hurt.

"Goddammit, HG," Claudia said under her breath. "Right in the feels."

They shared a silence for a moment, both considering whether it really was that difficult to consider that Helena G Wells, time travelling extraordinaire, agent of intrigue and deception, genius mother of science fiction was - really - marshmallow on the inside.

"All right, Lady Cuckoo," Claudia said, undoing Helena's bonds and holding her breath for a second, wondering if this was going to be a giant, metal-evil releasing kind of mistake. To her relief, however, Helena just sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes.

"Thank you, Claudia," she said, quietly. "Might I ask what actually happened, now?"

Claudia gave Helena a brief timeline of what had happened, rather factually and to the point.

"And before? What happened with Myka?"

The young agent backed up a little, holding her hands up.

"I think that's for Myka to explain. Sounds like you guys have plenty to talk about," Claudia said. Helena nodded, her face pale and drawn.

So a few minutes later, Helena found herself standing in front of Myka's bedroom door, trying to muster the courage to knock.

She must have stood there for a while because she heard Claudia's footsteps behind her with a quiet grumble. "Do I have to do everything for you?" the redhead muttered, and lifted her fist to knock on the door. And before anyone could say anything inappropriate, Claudia raised her other palm up and said, "Don't even think it," as her knuckles rapped the wooden door lightly, twice.

The door opened quickly, as if the woman inside had been waiting for her knock. Perhaps she had.

"Helena..." Myka breathed, stepping back and drawing Helena into the room. The door closed swiftly behind Helena, leaving a frustrated and curious Claudia outside muttering 'You're welcome' to herself. Neither woman noticed, however.

"How are you feeling?" Myka asked, and Helena stared at her hesitantly.

"How am I feeling? I'm not the one with, as Claudia described it, a 'serious, like totally life-threatening head injury' to cope with. How are you feeling, Myka? Do you need to go back to hospital?"

Myka smiled weakly.

"I'm fine, Helena. Dr Calder checked me over."

Helena nodded at that, her eyes never leaving Myka's.

"I... I don't remember exactly, but... did something happen, between you and I?" Helena asked awkwardly.

Myka looked down, then smiled coyly, then blushed then looked back up at Helena while biting her lips shut.

Helena could feel Myka's unease and took a step away from the curly haired agent and sat on the edge Myka's reading chair.

"Not my finest moment," Myka admitted quietly, almost inaudibly, looking towards Helena intermittently, trying to read her responses, her mood.

"Well, even if it weren't, which I highly doubt, you've been granted a reprieve, Myka," Helena broke the silence. "I cannot recall what had actually happened."

Myka took a deep breath. "You don't remember anything?" she said, and she sounded distraught.

"It appears, from what little Claudia said, that the artefact took most of my memories," Helena apologised and got up from the chair, took a hesitant step towards Myka.

"Damn," Myka said. "I guess we should talk, then. About what happened."

Helena stepped closer to her tentatively.

"Or we could... not talk," she said, grasping Myka's wrist gently.

Myka tensed feeling the warmth of Helena's fingers as they slid across her skin.

Helena took another step closer, her eyes smouldering, her mind full of images of Myka in her arms, on top of her, underneath her. Something obviously happened, and being so close to the tall woman now felt familiar, like they'd done this already, that Helena could simply not stop herself. "I've missed you so," she whispered, and reached her hand to where Myka's waist met her thigh.

Myka bit her bottom lip hard, released a nervous laugh and looked away.

"What is it?" Helena asked, resisting the urge to turn Myka back towards her, because touching her face would lead to nothing but kissing.

But she didn't need to. Myka looked back into Helena's eyes. "That's how it started before," she said, matter of fact, and leaned in to place her lips on Helena's.

It didn't feel like a first kiss. Because it wasn't, Helena supposed, somewhere far back in the part of her brain that was still working. Myka's lips were gentle but insistent, and they were both pulling at each other's bodies, trying to get closer.

Helena felt Myka's hand slide up into her hair, grasping a fistful roughly and almost making Helena's knees give way. "Good God," she whispered, before having her breath stolen away by Myka's relentless mouth.

Myka, who somewhere in the back of her logical brain knew that this was fast becoming another compromising moment with Helena, could not bring her body to obey logic or social decorum or even plain politeness to pause for a moment and tell Helena something.

Anything, in fact.

Even tell Helena that she loved her.

Instead, she detached her lips from Helena's and re-attached them to the ridge of her jaw, where she kissed and nipped and sucked her way to the hollow of Helena's neck.

"Is this..." Helena's question was cut short as she gasped for air, when Myka's teeth grazed her skin, at the base of her neck. "Is this how in continued before?" she managed to ask between Myka's assaults on her senses.

She felt Myka shake her head against her shoulder.

"Before it continued by you taking my shirt off," she mumbled into skin turned red and sensitive.

Helena moaned at the new sensation of Myka's tongue tickling the side of her neck, to her ear. Knowing what Myka would be doing next, she mustered what little power she had in her to resist and pushed Myka away from her. "No reason to diverge from tried and tested scenarios," she hissed and ripped Myka's shirt open.

Myka suddenly stopped, and Helena froze. Had she gone too far?

"It occurs to me that it was just about this point last time that Pete burst in on us," Myka said conversationally. She stepped away from Helena and over to the door before locking it firmly and wedging a chair under the handle for good measure.

"Okay, " she said breathlessly, turning back to Helena with a wide grin and shining eyes. Helena stared at her for a moment in awe. Myka Bering, shirtless, breathless and smiling, was standing in front of her.

Myka paced back towards Helena, holding the time traveller's gaze with her own. She stopped when they were a handful of inches apart and smiled coyly. The agent reached questing fingers and ran them gently, idly through dark tresses. "I missed you too," she said.

Helena's own fingers were tingling. It was as if Myka's exposed abdomen was a magnet and her fingertips were made of metal and the pull between them was naturally irresistible. She could only hold back for so long before her fingers reached for soft, white skin, tracing the edges of Myka's bottom ribs.

Myka gasped.

"I cannot tell you how long it has been since I wished I could touch you like this," Helena mused as her fingers and palms skidded across Myka's sides.

"Then don't," Myka said and took a step forward, into Helena, and claimed her breath with another searing kiss.

Myka's hands were in Helena's hair and Helena's mouth was open and hot against hers. It felt like a dream, and she was tempted to pinch herself to make sure Helena was real.

Her hair was like cool silk between Myka's fingers. Myka felt Helena's hand on her bare back and it made every inch of her body tingle. She wrenched her hands away from Helena reluctantly and started undoing the buttons on Helena's shirt, suddenly frantic to have her skin against Helena's. Her fingers were clumsy and shaking, and Helena pulled away from her, chuckling.

"Can I help you with that, darling?" Helena murmured, her fingers tracing Myka's jaw fondly. Myka smiled at her and, instead of answering, grasped Helena's shirt and ripped it open, as Helena had done with hers.

"Nope. I think I've got it," she said smugly, and pulled Helena back to her, her mouth coming down on Helena's, hard and bruising.

The stood in the middle of the room kissing and touching and exploring (as much as they could standing up). Myka couldn't help the small, evil smirk that her lips stretched into when she found that the ridge of Helena's ear was a particularly sensitive spot that made Helena weak at the knees - literally.

So when Helena found the many different ways in which she could bite into Myka's lower lip that made the agent weak in her knees, Helena's was more than a smirk. There was a positively devilish laugh emanating deep from the throat of the time traveller.

Very quickly this had turned into a battle, a competition of sorts - how many spots they could find on each other's bodies that elicited involuntary jolts and bucks and thrusts. This went on until Helena couldn't wait any longer to taste Myka's skin, and pushed her backwards, toward the bed, only to have Myka leverage Helena's concentration and reverse their positions just before they fell on top of the soft covers.

"You cheated," Helena said, and Myka chortled, her mouth against Helena's neck.

"All's fair," was all she said, before kissing Helena, wet, open-mouthed and deep. Helena heard herself whimper as Myka's hand ran down her chest lightly, just brushing, just off-centre. Just infuriating. Helena took a second to plan her movements before flipping them over again, Myka trapped underneath her, her hands captured by one of Helena's, the other exploring her chest and belly in the same teasing fashion Myka had subjected her to.

After a moment Myka groaned deep in her chest.

"Please," she breathed, opening her eyes to implore Helena to stop teasing. A shiver ran through Helena's body at the sight of Myka so utterly ruined beneath her. She hadn't expected this when she woke up today, when she came to speak to Myka - to be honest she had feared that the images she had remembered were due to the artefact, that she had somehow forced herself on Myka. To find out that she was so wrong, and in such a delightful way, was a shock. She let Myka's hands free and Myka grabbed her hair, pulling Helena's head down to kiss her until she was so dizzy she could barely think.

Helena's mind and body were racing with thoughts and sensations, familiar and new, terrifying and exhilarating. Being with Myka like this was flooding her senses and neurological pathways and every iota of thought capacity, and when Myka's hand slid down the small of her back and her fingers slipped between the waist band of her trousers and her skin, rounding the slope of her thigh on a journey clearly destined southwards, it was all too much for her, and Helena pushed herself up and away from Myka.

Myka's body couldn't fathom Helena's being torn away from it so violently and she gasped loudly. It took her a second to come to, and she tried to push herself up to her elbows, to get closer, to check on Helena.

But Helena wouldn't let her.

Helena laid her palm flat on Myka's sternum and pushed her instantly back down.

"What's goin-" Myka started and Helena hushed her with the index finger of her other hand across her lips.

Unsure of Helena's plans or state of mind, Myka resisted for a few seconds, until Helena rose to her knees and leaned above her to replace her index finger with her lips.

Myka fell to her back with a light huff that turned to a sharp intake of air soon after, when Helena replaced her other hand, between Myka's breasts, with her hungry, wet mouth.

The longer Helena's lips roamed her chest, the heavier Myka's breathing had become. And the further her tongue ventured, caressing the swell of Myka's breast, the louder and more nonsensical Myka was with her exclamations.

This is what Helena needed: a way to focus her mind and her senses, because for all the passionate chaos of a moment ago she felt a little fragile right now, and would rather spend the next few moments ruining Myka even further, before succumbing to her own fragility and allowing Myka to ruin her.

It didn't take much longer for them to strip one another of their last items of clothing. Helena bit her lip, hard, when she had her first look at Myka, bare and spread out beneath her, hair in disarray, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. She was a breath-taking sight, and Helena watched her silently for a long moment, her fingers tracing Myka's jaw and then her lips. Until Myka pulled one of Helena's fingers into her mouth, sucking on it as she stared at Helena challengingly. Suddenly it wasn't enough to just look. She fell on Myka and for the first time felt her entire body against her own, an incredible sensation. They kissed and it grew messy and hungry and then Myka's hand was descending, passing Helena's navel and she was whispering in Helena's ear.

"Tell me how to make love to you."

Helena almost whimpered. She grasped Myka's hand and directed it downward, thinking, inanely, that a good writer shows, they don't tell, and then she wasn't thinking anything at all because Myka was inside her and there was no more room for thought.


Hours later they lay in each other's arms catching their breath and their sleep intermittently, each being awakened by the other's touch over, upon or inside. It was as though all the almosts and all the not-quites and just-abouts of their past had all clumped together to form one mass of conciliation.

And neither of them was complaining.

In fact, neither of them spoke.

They traded kisses and nips and bites, they traded caresses and touches and orgasms; but not a single word passed between them for many, many hours.

It was Helena who broke the verbal embargo.

"I hate to break the silence, darling, because I have never enjoyed the quiet so much in all of my years on this earth. But I have to ask... what does this mean?"

Myka looked at her in confusion. "What does what mean?"

"This," Helena said, gesturing between them. "Us."

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Myka confessed, after a moment.

"I've been away for a long time, but I think - if the Regents will allow it, of course - I'm ready to come home," Helena said quietly.

"You would come back to the Warehouse?" Myka asked incredulously. "Wait... You're not doing that for me, are you? Because I would never want you to be unhappy, Helena. We could do long-distance or..."

Helena put a finger firmly over Myka's lips with a smile.

"It was the Bell, actually. Finding that scrap of parchment that led me to the shard. Despite the rather unfortunate end to my retrieval, I felt... I was myself again. And seeing you... it was just the icing on the cake, as they say. Knowing that you feel the same, it has confirmed that I'm making the right decision. Unless you don't want me to come back?"

Myka was listening to Helena's words intently. A part of her was struggling to believe that Helena had any part of her that was unsure that Myka wanted her. This particular thought was so baffling to her that she had to remind herself to answer her new lover.

She propped herself on her elbow and turned to face the dark haired mystery of a woman she thought she knew so well, but who evidently could still surprise her.

"Do you honestly think I wouldn't want you to come back?" she asked with mild disbelief.

"Darling, it's been a long time," Helena tried to explain that she wanted nothing more than to make up for all the time she'd lost with Myka, but not if it risked Myka's happiness; and Myka had so much happiness in her work. Only she didn't say that in so many words.

"It has," Myka echoed with a firm nod, "but this time changed us," she added and leaned down so her arm fell light across Helena's naked torso, and she dragged her fingers idly up Helena's side.

Helena released a broken breath and let her eyes fall shut, let her body decipher the patterns Myka was imprinting on her.

"It changed me," Myka whispered as she brought her lips to the corner of Helena's and pressed light, butterfly kisses there. "I know what I want now."

"In that case, I believe the talking is finished with, for the time being," Helena murmured. Myka nodded, her face an inch from Helena's. They looked at one another for a long moment, just looking, before Myka leaned forward that little bit more to allow their lips to meet. It was in that moment that Helena realised that her time travel, her mistakes, her past - they were all irrelevant, here. Time itself was irrelevant only because they might not have enough of it. Such was the life of a Warehouse Agent. They were liable to be called up at a moment's notice to fly to the other side of the world to collect the ring of a monarch or the ring pull from a can of soda. Helena took a second to thank the gods or whomever was responsible for this time with Myka before she turned her mind completely to the body, the soul beneath her. It may have taken her a few years too many to arrive here, but she had arrived, now.

And she was home.