Author's Note: *le sigh* Guys, it's my twenty-first birthday, and you know what my muse demanded? My muse demanded that I write this, instead of utilizing my valuable drinking time for its intended purpose. So, you know, give me some reviews to make me feel a little less mopey about it. Kay? :P
"Oh, Claude," Myka sighed sympathetically, stroking back locks of red hair as her small friend hugged the rim of the toilet seat. She stood briefly to retrieve the ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet and proffered two of them to Claudia, who offered a feeble, but very grateful smile. Then, with frustration that Myka couldn't help, she muttered, "Steve and I are going to have a serious talk about drinking in moderation."
"I should've listened," Claudia bemoaned. "Sorry, Mykes…"
Myka chuckled softly and shook her head. "I was only trying to look out for you, Claude. You don't need to apologize for having fun. It's college; overindulging is practically mandatory, at least once or twice."
"Yeah, but you're Myka," Claudia rolled her eyes, and even that action looked weak, to Myka's perception, but that was probably because those dark eyes were framed by pale, clammy skin, and damp hair clung to the perspiration that decorated the line stretching from Claudia's temples down her throat. "You're always right."
"Maybe about some things," Myka shrugged dismissively, handing Claudia the glass of water that she'd carried in with her. "But I come down a little harder on you, most of the time. I shouldn't, and I'm sorry. I just worry about you."
"I need all the worry I can get," Claudia mumbled, taking a healthy gulp of cool liquid and setting the glass on the tile beside her foot, "because obviously my self-preservation skills are seriously in need of an overhaul."
"I've got some to spare," Myka quipped.
Claudia attempted a worn smile, but sat up a little, and said, "I think I'm done. There can't actually be anything left in my stomach, now. I don't think. But I don't actually remember everything that I ate last night, so I could be wrong."
"Do you want to try and lay down?" Myka tried, but Claudia vehemently shook her head.
"Can we just sit, for another minute or sixty?" Claudia pleaded, and the widened, vulnerable brown eyes that pleaded from the floor had Myka all but melting with compassion, so she nodded indulgently and boosted herself up onto the sink counter, prepared to wait out the nausea with her young roommate.
"I'm sorry I'm taking you away from your lady friend," Claudia offered helplessly. "I know I'm being crazy selfish, but I think I'm still too drunk to care."
"She's not my – "
Claudia rolled her eyes again. "Please," she huffed indignantly, and Myka was only a little irritated with Claudia's knack for interruption while inebriated. "I might be younger than you, and maybe a lot inexperienced when it comes to drinking and dating and pretty much everything adult-like that lives outside of the cyber world, but even I could see the hardcore flirting going on at the tailgate. And, trust me, you don't want to know what Leena had to say about your auras once you were finally at the game, because, Mykes, it's kinda embarrassing."
Myka flushed bright red, but sighed and shook her head. "I just met her a week ago, Claude," she pointed out evenly. "Not even that long, if we're being really technical."
"So?" Claudia prodded innocently. "That doesn't mean anything. And you guys were all cuddly and adorable when I came in this morning, so even if you did have sex last night, she obviously didn't feel like she needed to bolt off afterward."
"We didn't have sex," Myka expressed, groaning out the sentiment with more agony than she'd imagined she could feel. She'd thought it was awful and nearly catastrophic last night, but somehow it was worse confessing it to Claudia. And she felt a little guilty, too, because she always did when she discussed her sex life with the small redhead, but Claudia offered her the open ear that she often required when it came to those kinds of things, and – though she still teased Myka about it, most of the time – she did so at the appropriate junctures and knew when to knock it off, when Pete would have continued to harass her.
He was especially big on the harassing when it came to Myka and other women involved in her sex life, so beyond mentioning that it had happened, Myka really didn't feel the need to offer any detail about the affair to her decidedly immature, if lovable best friend.
"Did you have not-sex that was almost-sex?" Claudia smirked, and when Myka's cheeks deepened with color and she failed to respond, Claudia cried out, "Hah! I knew it. Plus, that nice hickey on your neck really doesn't do you any favors, Mykes."
"She's still outside the door, you know," Myka reminded quietly, because Claudia's voice had climbed exponentially in volume with her exclamation, and she would so many kinds of not continue to have any part in this discussion if she so much as suspected that Helena could hear it. "I don't even know what happened," Myka admitted eventually, flailing her hands in the air in a gesture that purely reflected the utter sincerity that resided beneath that declaration. "One minute we were drunk and leaving the game, and next thing I know, she's asking to come over, and I'm making drinks, and she just flat out announces that she's going to kiss me. What was I supposed to do?" She whined helplessly, and she would worry about the lack of grace later, because she really had bigger things to deal with right now.
Claudia snorted. "Uh… I'm guessing she wanted you to kiss back, so… score for Mykes, right? Also, she's hot, so, you know… kissing back? Definitely a good idea."
Myka rolled her eyes. "That was definitely not the point that I was trying to make."
"No, but it's definitely a point to make, plus it's also a bonus on the Bering & Wells pro-con list, right?" Claudia grinned.
Myka smiled affectionately, but shrugged noncommittally, and tentatively proffered, "I guess?"
"If she made it that easy for you, how come you didn't go for the home run, Mykes?" Claudia inquired curiously, and shifted around a little so that her head wasn't ducked quite so heavily over the toilet.
The distraction of conversation seemed to be helping Claudia's nausea a little, so Myka would be a bad friend if she didn't keep it up, right? She didn't need to talk about the infuriatingly attractive woman in her living room at all, and she was pretty sure she shouldn't even be thinking about those warm brown eyes, or the even hotter hands that Helena was in possession of. And Myka definitely, definitely didn't need to be thinking about either of those body parts scouring down the length of her body, and devouring her whole with scarcely a second thought. No, Myka wouldn't go there.
Except, maybe she had gone there, and maybe she'd had to stifle a little moan because of the delicious picture that her mind manufactured with maybe too much ease.
No, this whole thing was purely for Claudia's benefit. And Myka would persist in that belief until someone dared to challenge it.
"She doesn't really have friends," Myka sighed softly. "And we – she's – I think we're friends… I think we could be really good friends, Claude. I don't want to screw that up before it even has a chance to get off the ground. Especially not just because I got horny," she finished dryly, but a blush crept up her neck and Myka stoically decided to ignore it.
"Well, yeah, but… What if you could be more than friends, and be really good at that, too?" Claudia probed. "'Cause, seriously, Leena said you guys had coffee on Monday for a while, and then there was the football game, so even if you have only known her a week, that's still like… two dates."
"I don't think I'd call them that," Myka remarked skeptically. "Pete invited her to the game, and we only ran into each other at the coffee shop by accident."
"Mykes, seriously – trust me on this. We might have been there at the tailgate, but once she got there, you two were all about the eye sex, dude. And I don't mean that to be a not-so-stealthy way of telling you that you should pay more attention to us, because I think it's great. I'm just saying, it definitely counts as date-like. Especially since you two spent the whole time that we were there somehow having serious get-to-know-you conversations." And Claudia's face scrunched up before she demanded, "And how did you even do that? It was so frakkin' loud, Mykes. Although," the redhead considered pensively, "it probably has something to do with the fact that you two were practically sitting in each other's laps. And that was before the whole really minor thing that involved me and Steve, you know… not being there anymore…" She trailed off sheepishly. "So I'm sure it got worse after we left," she finished decisively, evidently having gotten over her guilt for their pretty unceremonious ejection from the game.
"She's definitely not shy," Myka smiled bashfully, but she could even feel the edges of it soften, because, though Helena had been very brazen and bold (and a bunch of other synonyms, probably also beginning with the letter 'b,' like maybe brave and beautiful and even a little brusque – but not all of those were exactly synonyms, Myka conceded), Helena had also been very sweet, and that was just as memorable.
"Uh… Nope, I'm pretty sure we can officially land on the complete opposite side of the fence on that one," Claudia snorted.
"She says she wants to do it again," Myka confessed.
"Say yes," Claudia instructed.
"But – "
"No," Claudia dismissed swiftly. "Say yes. Seriously, Mykes – you deserve it. Have some fun. Get the girl, or whatever."
"Thanks, Claude," Myka murmured sincerely.
"Sure. But, you know…" Claudia raised her brows expectantly and gestured toward the door, "I kinda meant now."
Myka hesitated briefly, but she couldn't even internally deny that she was pretty much chomping at the bit to get back to Helena (especially after all of the questions that this conversation had raised), so she only asked earnestly, "You'll be okay here?"
"For sure," Claudia nodded. "I'm gonna call Steve and bitch at him for letting me drink that whole bottle of vodka. And I have my water and the magic headache medicine, so I'm good."
"Okay," Myka conceded, jumping the small distance from the counter to the floor. "Call me if you need anything."
"I will," Claudia promised, rolling her eyes, but the small, grateful smile that she wore told Myka that her exasperation was for show, and that her friend really did appreciate that Myka had taken care of her.
Myka returned the smile with an indulgent one of her own, and bent low to press a kiss to the crown of Claudia's flaming red hair, and she whispered, "Thanks, Claude."
"Any time. Hey, actually, bring me back a breakfast sandwich from the deli, if you stop?" She grinned. "I think I can eat now."
"Okay," Myka agreed with a chuckle, twisting the doorknob beneath her fingers and making for the stunning brunette creature that had drifted into a nearly comatose state on her couch.
The tender smile that graced Myka's lips upon spotting that eternally endearing image couldn't have been stopped by the Spartan army.
Myka had been a little disappointed when Helena had told her that she needed to get home – Stop it, Bering, she'd chided herself, she has a life, you know – but she understood and promptly offered to drive Helena back to her car. Helena had smiled something sincere and fond and just remarkably happy in reply, and that almost – almost, but not quite, Myka found herself musing – made up for the fact that she had to part from the woman's mesmerizing company. So, Myka had changed clothes and quickly met Helena back in the living room after snatching her car keys from the kitchen.
The keys hadn't quite made it onto the hook, Myka lamented privately, but at least they'd made it to the appropriate room. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to find them, otherwise.
Helena had held her hand and chatted with her for the duration of the small journey to the car, and Myka listened to her adorably prattle off all of the inane details that, by Helena's ardently expressed opinion, ought to have been included within the Harry Potter films that they'd watched the night before. Myka edged in a thought or two occasionally, but mostly she was just foolishly and insanely content to listen to Helena, and allowed her to continue her rant without interruption.
Once in the car, Helena had covered her hand over Myka's thigh, drawing a mostly inaudible gasp that swelled hard in Myka's chest. At least, Myka hoped it was inaudible – and, for just a second, she actually thought that it had been – but when she'd caught Helena's eye in the seconds following, Helena had smirked knowingly and tightened her fingers, but mostly drove her self-generated discussion forward.
And Myka was glad, because she wasn't sure that she could've presented anything beyond a stutter – especially not when the tips of Helena's fingers wove higher up her thigh and Myka's hands jerked reflexively on the steering wheel, veering them slightly off to the right (to Helena's chuckled amusement).
But Helena shifted over pretty far to the left of her seat, and, though Myka couldn't really get a good read on this woman ever, she was pretty sure that Helena wanted to be closer to her, and that made Myka smile, and she could feel that it was face-splitting and a little goofy, but she couldn't help it.
Myka's theory about closeness was supported a few minutes later as she watched Helena's eyes dim just a little as they drew closer to the parking garage where the Brit had left her Prius. When Myka parked and moved around the car to shut the door behind her companion, Helena leaned against the side of her SUV and smiled up at her, and Myka's breath – it did some really irregular things, and Myka was pretty sure that it would land her in the health center and fast if she didn't find some way to whip it into control.
But when Helena's fingers tripped up the length of her stomach and she flattened her palm over Myka's heart, Myka submitted to the lightheadedness and swallowed thickly, reaching her own palm up to tentatively cover the back of Helena's neck.
"I," Helena murmured, lips dancing over Myka's in an endlessly enticing way that had her focusing more on the motions and less on the words departing as a result of them, "had a lovely evening with you, Myka Bering."
"Yeah," Myka breathed, and it was an inelegant and painfully obvious 'whoosh' of air, but she nodded, anyway, and finished, "I did too. With you, I mean."
"I ought to be getting off now," Helena alleged softly, reluctantly, but a quick moment later, and she was smirking in an awfully filthy manner, Myka thought, before she corrected impishly, "or getting home, actually, as my attempts at the former were rather markedly denied."
"Noble," Myka huffed in reminder, but her cheeks felt hot, and her mind wondered how Helena would have looked if she had gotten off the night before.
Because, God, Myka knew that would be a sight. Even drunk, Helena had looked magnificent – all wispy hair and frantic eyes, and her cheeks were flushed, and Myka had done that to her.
But she was interrupted from her fantasy by a sharp tug on her belt loop and an airy chuckle, a reward for her previous remark that teased hotly over Myka's mouth, and Myka thought her stomach just might have vacated her body altogether, because there was just no way that there was room for all that fluttering if all of her body parts remained intact.
"So very noble, darling," Helena confirmed, but it was a whisper and a sigh, and it dripped with affection, and Myka's stomach was definitely all there, she was sure, because now – now she could feel the butterflies batting hard wings against every part of her insides, and she felt a little queasy.
She shouldn't be feeling this much. She shouldn't be feeling this much for anyone, but she shouldn't be feeling this much for a British stranger, in particular, who'd only inserted herself into Myka's life so recently. But Helena didn't feel like a stranger. Helena felt familiar and maybe refreshing all at once, and like something Myka knew, but couldn't remember where from.
And Myka knew this was a dangerous game. She did. Because anything this intense just had to be dangerous. But she couldn't bring herself to quit.
Myka Bering was not a quitter.
And, God, she wanted Helena Wells, too. She wanted that woman something fierce, something strong and desperate and relentless, and she really didn't need another reason to keep playing. That was plenty of reason enough, Myka supposed.
"We're still on for coffee, yes?" Helena inquired hopefully, eyes searching out Myka's, and Myka thought there was a little bit of insecurity in there somewhere, but she wasn't sure.
Whatever it was, she made haste in soothing it away.
"Yes," she nodded. "Definitely yes."
"Mm," Helena hummed delightedly. "Then I shall meet you at two, as agreed. And well ah – talk then, hm?"
"Okay," Myka replied quietly, because there was no one around – they were completely alone in the twenty-minute parking lot outside the garage – but it seemed right, and this moment just seemed so quiet, so Myka didn't want to risk shattering it.
And whatever she'd done, she'd done it right, because then Helena's lips were pressing on hers, slow, but insistent – and, Myka thought with satisfaction, quiet.
But then she wasn't thinking at all, because there was a warm tongue swiping lazily across the length of her bottom lip, and, God, she wanted to taste it. So she did, parting her mouth and acquiescing – but to what, Myka wasn't exactly sure. Because if this was what a kiss was supposed to feel like, then Myka had been doing it so wrong.
It wasn't rushed, and it didn't have any purpose, really, except that it breathed of I'll-miss-you and you're-lovely and I'll-see-you-soon, and that seemed like a pretty good purpose in itself, so Myka melted beneath it (or atop it, she guessed, since she was taller), and folded into the British woman, nails clipping gently into smooth skin at Helena's neck. And when Helena eased back, she warmed her forehead against Myka's, tipping her chin up for a last, soft kiss that caught Myka on the cheek.
"Tomorrow," Helena promised.
"Tomorrow," Myka echoed, nodding, disentangling herself from the lean form beneath her, and, God, was it hard to do.
When Myka shifted around the car again and chanced a glance in the rear-view mirror, once settled in and buckled, Helena's face was turned over her shoulder, and there was a small, wistful smile that had Myka praying that the next twenty-four hours would go ahead and just expire.
But Myka had to shower and get to work, and she probably needed a few glasses of water, so – though she had a little time – she really had to do something with those pesky thoughts of sexy British accents and pretty red lips, painted across smooth, porcelain skin. And she had no idea how the hell she was supposed to manage that.
"Hello, darling," Helena smiled upon spotting her, but Myka frowned, because it looked a little worn at the edges, but Myka elected to greet her before launching into an interrogation.
"Hi," Myka replied, slipping her raincoat over her shoulders and shaking her damp hair out with her fingers. "Jeez, it's wet out there," she huffed, and would've corrected her blunder soon after, if Helena's lack of a play on it hadn't been more noticeable than the gaffe itself.
"Yes," Helena murmured in agreement. "Rather reminds me of England, actually," she mused thoughtfully.
Maybe that was why she seemed so sad today. Maybe Helena was homesick.
"I bought you a coffee," Helena informed, scooting the mentioned cup forward with a slight scrape across the table.
"Thanks," Myka smiled appreciatively, and circled her palms around the beverage instinctively. It wasn't terribly cold outside, but the torrential downpour she'd endured on the way in from the parking lot in conjunction with the slight breeze had her bones feeling a little chilled. "Do you miss it?" Myka asked earnestly. "England, I mean?"
Helena smiled indulgently. "Not in the least, I'm afraid. I never was much a fan of the rain."
Myka hesitated for a second – because Helena was in a strange mood today, and was barely any of the playful, teasing woman whom Myka had come to know – but she eventually reached across the table to cover Helena's idle palm with her hand. Helena didn't respond to the grip beyond glancing down at it for an entirely too short moment (Myka thought), but she wasn't sure what to make of that, so she tightened her fingers under Helena's palm and insecurely withdrew her own. She wouldn't admit it – not to Claudia, or Pete, or even herself, really – but she was a little hurt that Helena had been so unresponsive.
"Is that why you're so down?" Myka asked anyway, dipping her head to the side with furrowed, concerned brows. "Because it's raining?"
Helena appeared momentarily surprised, but the expression was gone so fast that Myka thought she might've imagined it; in fact, she probably had, Myka convinced herself briefly, but the smile that Helena plastered on next was thin, and it didn't crinkle at the corners of her eyes the way that Myka thought it should. "Now, what has you thinking I'm down, love?"
Myka shrugged. She was worried, and she wanted to make it better (whatever the mysterious it was) but… Helena clearly didn't want to talk about it, so she could refrain from pushing, if pushing would hurt more than help. And Myka could see that it would. So she didn't.
Instead, she asked, "How was the rest of your weekend?"
"Uneventful," Helena declared, but Myka didn't get the sense that it was entirely truthful. But they weren't close enough for Myka to call her out on it, not really, and she was feeling a little displaced by Helena's lack of affection. She hadn't realized it until now, but Myka was abruptly aware that half of their relationship thus far had been communicated through touch, and Helena didn't seem entirely comfortable with that right now. Myka felt a little confused, and very unsure of herself, so she remained silent until Helena continued. "My brother came to visit from Denver yesterday afternoon. He caught me a bit by surprise, I admit," Helena chortled, but it sounded hollow to Myka's ears, and she only wanted to hear that cheery laugh from yesterday, or the husky chuckle from the night before.
"Bad visit?" Myka asked softly, dropping her eyes to her cup and removing the lid under the guise of allowing the drink to cool, but really she just needed to do something with her hands; anything that didn't involve holding Helena's.
Helena appeared to ponder over the question for a moment, but then she shook her head. "I wouldn't say it was bad, no. But I also would not venture to say that it was particularly heartwarming, either."
"Do you and your brother get along?" Despite that all she wanted to ask was, "Why wasn't it a good visit?" But… boundaries. Myka had to remember that those existed, and, right at this moment, she felt like there were even more of them than usual.
"At times," Helena replied with an accompanying, cryptic shrug.
Myka nodded solemnly, and took a sip of her drink to fill the abrupt and increasingly awkward silence that descended over them, flinching a little when the coffee burnt her tongue.
"I'm sorry, darling," Helena sighed eventually. "I believe you might've been correct in your earlier assumption. I suppose I am a bit down today," she confessed.
"It's okay," Myka nodded, and she was a little relieved that, if nothing else, Helena was verbally claiming the emotion for Myka's benefit. "Do you want to do this another time? Because that's okay," she tried to assure, but she didn't want that at all. She'd spent all of yesterday afternoon, and last night, and this morning pining after this woman's company.
Whether she was out of sorts or not, Myka still wanted to be around her. Even if it was occasionally awkward.
It was silly and stupid, Myka knew, but she couldn't help it.
"I'm sure I'll get over it," Myka proceeded valiantly. "Especially if it means that you'll be able to relax, and maybe feel a little bit better. I don't want to – "
"I'm content here," Helena declared, and the smile that touched her mouth was a ghost of the brilliant, beaming thing that Myka had grown accustomed to, but there was affection behind it, and that made her feel a little better. "But I – I might like to just… sit for a while, darling, if that's alright?"
She looked so subdued and withdrawn, but Myka nodded. Yeah, she could do that. If Helena needed to think in quiet for a while, she could definitely do that.
"Do you want me to go?" She queried gently. "I don't mind," she assured, but she really did mind. She minded a lot. She didn't want to go. But she would, if Helena asked it of her. "I could take my coffee to go and meet Pete for – "
"I would rather enjoy your company, if you could… stay?" Helena requested, and it was small and hopeful, and it broke Myka's heart.
She was pretty sure that the fleshy pieces must have been scattered across the floor and pulsating in tandem to that slow, hard, terrified pace that hammered in the tips of her thumbs and lodged in her throat.
But she nodded again.
"Yeah," she confirmed softly. "Yeah, I can stay."
Helena didn't say 'thank you,' and she didn't smile, but something like gratitude gleamed bright in her eyes, and Myka smiled, slow and hesitant and encouraging, and shuffled in her seat until she could lean back against it, shifting her gaze from Helena's face only every now and then, when the woman's expression shifted because of something that she had seen in this coffee shop on Main.
Because Myka wanted to know each of those expressions, and she wanted to know what caused them almost as badly. And if she wouldn't be having a conversation with Helena – which was fine, Myka tried to convince herself, like she hadn't spent the past day and change looking forward to figuring out some kind of direction for this odd and sincerely profound relationship that they were constructing, somehow – then she would take pleasure in this; this evaluation and subsequent cataloguing of the softening in Helena's eyes – the simple and simultaneously complex emotion behind those warm brown orbs, or the quirk that touched the edge of her mouth when she found something amusing and didn't feel the need to accentuate it with a lift of that thin, elegant brow, or the way her nose crinkled when some grumpy, older man ordered a double shot of espresso from the barista at the counter.
Yeah, Myka could give Helena this silence.