The ladies return from Colorado and their six months of marriage is almost at an 's the last weekend before they are due to return to Las Vegas to face the judge and they are scheduled to attend Myka's work retreat together. Will Helena keep her promises to Myka?


They said goodbye to an exhausted Tracy early the next morning – far too early, they had insisted, for a pregnant woman to be driving them to the airport. She gave in after arguing a little. It was clear that she was exhausted. They made promises to return soon for a longer visit and Myka found that, despite herself, she actually wanted to return to this home, to this version of Tracy and her mother. Not so much her father, given their fairly adversarial relationship. But even he had surprised her with his grudging politeness. Helena had a way with him. Hell, Helena had a way with anyone, when she wanted to. Myka stole a quick look at Helena's profile as they sat in the back of their Uber. Helena's eyes were closed and her jet-black eyelashes were in extreme contrast with the whiteness of her skin. Unbidden, a memory from their one night together returned to Myka. They'd been giggling, drunk, and then Helena had poured some of the syrupy champagne/fruit liquer mix down her cleavage, and Myka had stopped laughing abruptly. The drops of reddish, bubbling liquid against her stark white chest and the few freckles that dotted here and there in between her breasts – the image had quite taken Myka's breath away, and while she didn't recall exactly what happened afterwards, she remembered vividly the noises that Helena had made as Myka's tongue lapped at her skin and brought her to the edge and over with skilful fingers.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" Helena asked, breaking in to her thoughts. Myka turned to look at her in almost complete panic. She couldn't hide what she had been thinking. Her face reddened and she felt the blush move down her neck and across her chest. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip and Helena stared at her for a long moment.

"Oh," was all she said, a fact for which Myka was intensely grateful. On the flight later, however, she moved as close to Myka as she could before falling asleep with her face pressed to Myka's shoulder.

The next few days were difficult for Myka. She was back working 12-14 hour days, and she barely saw Helena. Helena, for her part, was sticking to their agreement and each day when Myka returned there was some food ready and evidence that Helena had been working hard on her writing or on her new inventions. Their counselling session with Mrs Frederic had been more than satisfactory that week; the woman almost smiled when she said goodbye. Their homework for that weekend was not only to have a date, but to go out for an evening with their disparate groups of friends, to try to get to know one another through the eyes of their friends. They decided on bowling as the least objectionable activity for their friends to share, and mixed up the groups so that it wasn't Helena's friends versus Myka's. That was how Myka ended up with Claudia Donovan on her bowling team. She hadn't seen Claudia since the night she'd knocked on Leena's door and made Myka cry.

"Hey," Claudia said, as she approached 'their' lane. Pete was also on their team and he smiled and gave Claudia a quick hug but left Myka and Claudia to their discussion, watching them cautiously.

"Hey," Myka said, her expression neutral. She met Claudia's eyes evenly, and the young hacker winced when she saw Myka's face.

"Listen, Myka," Claudia began. Myka thought that might be the first time the woman had actually said her name, rather than calling her some insulting attempt at a married name. "I really… I screwed up, bad. I don't really do apologies, but I know… Abigail and I have been talking, and we both realised we've been kind of… childish, since Vegas? We're protective of Helena, she's our friend. But you didn't deserve the thing with the shake, and Helena told us that she lied about the date thing, too, with all the tentacles? So I'm sorry for that too. I thought you hurt her. I thought I was protecting her. But I was being an ass," Claudia finished, picking at the thread on the bottom of her jeans before looking up and meeting Myka's eyes.

"Okay," Myka said, finally, and a truce was called. Myka's team won their little bowling contest decisively, but by the end of the evening they were all having a great time. Everyone was a little merry but no-one was too drunk, and all in all Myka thought the night had been a great success.

"Did you have a good time tonight?" she asked, as she and Helena were getting settled for the night. Helena fluffed up her pillow before collapsing onto the sofa with a sigh of relief, pulling the blankets around her into a burrito.

"I really did. I had a wonderful time," Helena said, with a smile, and Myka couldn't help but smile back. "You and Claudia made up, I saw?"

"We did," Myka said, with a little shrug. "She apologised, and I accepted. She actually seems like a great kid, when she's not doing her best to be an asshole."

Helena laughed.

"You're right. She is an abrasive little thing, but she had a difficult upbringing. We bonded at college a while back. She's a precocious girl. And very protective of me. I know she went too far, but she really isn't a bad person."

Myka nodded.

"I'll give her another chance."

Helena smiled at her so brightly that it made her heart clench. Myka was beginning to have a problem with their living arrangements. This bed was big enough for two, and she wanted Helena in it. She wanted to see if they could make it detach from the wall. She wanted everything, and that frightened her, after Sam. She had thought, with him, that she had everything. And then he'd pulled the rug out from underneath her. Myka lay down and pulled the duvet up around her, huddling inside like it was a cocoon, in some sort of attempt to stop her hands from reaching out for Helena. Since Colorado things had been truly different between them, and she now had a traitorous tendril of hope wrapping itself slowly around her heart. It was terrifying. It was a long, long time before she was able to sleep.

Myka felt like she'd blinked and all of a sudden it was the weekend of her retreat with her co-workers – and Helena. She'd been working so hard that even Artie had told her to go home on a few occasions. Sally Stukowski had taken to giving her evil looks as she left the office, clearly too tired to continue, while Myka was hopped up on caffeine and the idea of being financially secure for the first time in her life.

She arrived home on the afternoon she and Helena were supposed to go to the retreat together, but Helena wasn't there. There was no note, and Myka was confused and disappointed. She had really believed that Helena was in this with her. Helena had promised to be at the retreat and to make a good impression. She sighed as she packed and waited for the car to arrive.

The resort was beautiful. The Catskill mountains were there, right up close, and the accommodation was made up of luxurious log cabins. Myka was shown to hers by a courteous young man, but there was no sign that anyone else had been to the cabin before her. So Helena really had deserted her. Myka was surprised at the strength of the pain that she felt at the realisation. She had been holding out hope, stupidly, that Helena had really changed, that there was enough between them now that they might be able to make this marriage a real thing instead of a stupid fuck up they'd made while drunk off their asses in Vegas. It appeared that her hope had been idiotic. Why would anyone choose her, anyway? She was boring and uptight and she was always the second fucking choice. Tears stung at her eyes and she wiped them away angrily.

She had to re-do her make-up before getting dressed for the semi-formal afternoon reception. She had bought, on a whim, months ago, a deep blue silk dress with matching heels that added more than 3 inches to her height, in the hope that Sam would be there to accompany her, that she could show him off. And now she was here alone. She took a deep breath, checking herself out in the mirror to make sure her hair wasn't too wild and her boobs weren't falling out, before making her way out to the gardens to meet with Artie and the rest of the company.

As she turned the corner of the main building, following a helpful staff member's directions, she heard a familiar voice. It couldn't be. There was Artie's voice, a familiar rumble, and then a higher, but rich, beautiful…

Myka passed a few people she vaguely knew, all of whom were standing around, seemingly listening to Artie talk to someone else. A someone who Myka knew well. Helena was sitting at a table with the financial director, James MacPherson, Deb Stanley, the company's lead counsel, and other partners – Theodora Stanton, Adwin Kosan, to name but a few – and they were all laughing uproariously at something she'd just said to Artie.

"You would need to lose a few pounds, Mr Nielsen, if you wanted to beat me at any game other than chess," Helena was saying, and Myka's cheeks reddened as she realised that her wife was insulting Artie. She was calling him fat. Helena was wearing a formal suit with the bow tie undone, coupled with black heeled boots that just looked – wow. And Artie was laughing. Laughing.

"We'll see, young lady, when I get you on the golf course. I've played with the Vice President of the US," Artie said, but his words were teasing.

"Are you the one he shot, because he mistook you for some sort of animal?" Helena asked, coolly, and Artie reddened.

"Shit, shit, shit," was repeating in Myka's head, over and over. Helena was going to get her fired.

"I know people," Artie said, darkly. "I could have you disappeared, you know."

"Surely I could just hide from them in that enormous shadow you cast?" Helena asked, and Artie exploded into laughter, the rest of the table joining in. It was at that moment that Helena saw Myka, and she stood, immediately, pulling Myka close to her and kissing her soundly.

"I have missed you, darling," she said, and Myka reddened. She had no clue what was going on.

"You know Mr Kosan, of course," Helena said, and Myka nodded, bemused.

"I told you, Helena, you must call me Adwin," Mr Kosan said, with a rare smile crossing his face. Helena smiled back at him and Myka stared at her.

"Of course. Adwin. And Deb, and Ted, and James. You all know my beautiful wife Myka, and are aware, I'm sure, of what an asset you have in her," Helena said, and to Myka's surprise, all four of them smiled at her, nodding. From the corner of her eye, Myka saw Sally Stukowski and her husband, Marcus Diamond, scowling. Myka smiled. Anything that pissed Sally off was great, in her book, even if Myka didn't have the slightest clue what was happening.

"Myka, you never told me your wife was a Cruella DeVille lookalike," Artie said, conversationally. Myka stared between him and Helena, mouth agape.

"Indeed. And you never told me your boss was a small rotund ape creature with a ferocious pair of eyebrows," Helena said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Artie with her eyes narrowed. Once again, he let out a bark of laughter that was echoed by everyone around him. Myka sat down, perplexed, in the chair that Artie pulled out for her, and after several more glasses of champagne was laughing so much at their jokes that champagne came out of her nose.

"Ladies and gentleman, my beautiful wife!" Helena said, with a flourish, as champagne spurted from Myka's nose in a fountain. It was some time before the laughter died down enough for them to continue their conversation.

"I can't believe he called you an evil British harpy," Myka said, later, when they were changing for dinner.

"He called me much worse names before you arrived. I think he was testing me," Helena said, with a smile. Myka was more than a little woozy after all the champagne they'd had that afternoon, and Helena was looking good enough to eat, in a red dress with her hair loose around her shoulders – she was spectacular.

"I can't believe you got him on side by insulting him," Myka said, shaking her head and then regretting it slightly as the room spun around her.

"Different strokes for different folks, that's the saying, isn't it?" Helena said, lifting her foot to put her shoes on. She was wearing heels again, but was a little shorter, still, than Myka. Myka took a step closer to her and put her arms around Helena's neck.

"Thank you for doing this," she said, and Helena looked her in the eye, puzzled.

"I promised you I would."

"I know you did, but then you weren't home when I got back from work this afternoon, and we said we were going together, and… I was worried that you'd decided not to come," Myka confessed, biting her lip.

"I left you a voicemail, Myka. Your boss called early this morning and asked me to come out and meet everyone, and I thought that would be better for your prospects – if I didn't bugger the whole thing up, of course. Which it appears I didn't," Helena said, with a slight frown.

"I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have doubted you," Myka said, and Helena laughed.

"I've done nothing but give you reasons to doubt me, darling. I don't blame you in the least."

"You have earned my trust, Helena," Myka said, and her eyes were steady on Helena's. Helena leaned forward and kissed her, long and lingering, and when they parted it was reluctantly.

Dinner was wonderful, as was to be expected when one worked for a major financial firm. Myka was nervous, however, and ate only a little. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, especially every time she looked at Helena. The woman was beautiful, commanding the attention of everyone around. Myka was basking in the attention from the firm's major movers and shakers.

"So, Myka. Where did you and Helena meet?" Theodora 'Ted' Stanton asked. She was clearly in her cups, her nose red and her eyes unfocused.

"If I may, darling?" Helena asked, and she spun, once again, the same story she'd told to her family about them meeting in Las Vegas and how they'd fallen in love and, unwilling to be parted afterwards, had married on a whim. "Not that we've regretted that whim for one moment since," Helena said, interlinking her fingers with Myka's and kissing her knuckles one by one. There was a general "Aw," around the table, and Myka blushed at all the attention.

"I can't believe you didn't tell us," Artie said, sitting back with his hands on his ample belly, his tone accusatory.

"I think I can answer that part, too," Helena said, softly. "Myka got out of a relationship not long before we met and she didn't want to announce our relationship until she was sure of me. I certainly don't blame her; her ex treated her horribly."

Artie looked at her over the rim of his glasses for a moment.

"In that case, I understand. But I want an invite to the christening of your first child. I won't take no for an answer!" he boomed, and he then proposed a toast to Helena and Myka, causing Myka's face to heat to what she was sure were close to solar temperatures.

When dinner was done, a band began to play, and Artie insisted that they all dance. It was fun, and Myka quickly became so drunk that she could barely tell who she was dancing with. Every single one of the partners seemed to want to dance with her and Helena, and all of them had some words of wisdom from their own marriages. Myka nodded solemnly at each, promising to take them seriously, all the while wondering if she'd remember any of it in the morning. Helena took pity on her after a while and led her back to their room, several wolf-whistles and encouraging comments being shouted at them by their well-meaning colleagues as they departed.

"Well, that went well, I thought," Helena said, brightly, as she and Myka changed (backs turned, of course) and climbed into bed.

"Are you kidding?" Myka said, slurring her words slightly. "That was incredible. Artie loves you. All of them do – MacPherson, Deb Stanley, Ted, and that weird-looking dude, Hugo? They all love you and were giving me advice on how to keep you. I can't even believe it. They've never looked at me, not one of them, not once," she said, and she was astonished and slightly pissed, too. Wasn't she interesting enough on her own? Or did Helena bring something out in her?

"You are enough, Myka. It's just that sometimes you… you hide your light. I see you," Helena said, and she was insistent. "I see you. You are wonderful, hard-working, talented, beautiful, dedicated. You just need to show them. And that's what I want to help you do, here. This weekend is for you."

Myka kissed her, and the kiss was desperate and messy and she was practically climbing Helena, almost straddling her, when Helena placed a hand on her chest and pushed her away slightly. Myka stared at her, chest heaving, panting against Helena's mouth.

"Not now, darling. Not when you're drunk. Please. I want you so fiercely, so truly, but I want you to be conscious, at least, for the main event," Helena said, and her words were so gentle, so sincere, that Myka couldn't even find it in herself to be offended or hurt or rejected. She could feel that Helena meant what she said, and that meant the whole world.

"Thank you," was all she said, before lying down, wrapping one arm around Helena and falling asleep almost instantly with her head pressed to Helena's shoulder.

The next morning Myka's alarm woke her, an incessant, nagging needle of pain in her ears. She pulled her pillow over her head, trying to block it out, but it wouldn't stop.

"Come on, darling. Time to get ready for our hike," Helena said, pulling away her pillow. Myka pouted at her. "Oh dear. Feeling the worse for wear, my love?" Helena asked, with mock sympathy. Myka narrowed her eyes.

"This is your fault."

"How is it my fault that you decided to drink so much, Myka Bering? I am your wife, not your sober companion," Helena said, with a grin, crossing the hotel room to pull the curtains across, effectively blinding Myka for the next several minutes. She groaned and pulled herself out of bed, walking into the bathroom in a half-daze before realising that Helena was already in the shower, her ass pressed against the glass, her figure half-shrouded with steam and condensation on the glass of the shower cubicle. Myka yelped, backing out quickly, but Helena had already seen her and had shot her a look of pure challenge, one that Myka wanted to take her up on desperately, but not while she was hungover. She wanted it to be right, to feel like the right decision, not just some drunken mistake like their first time.

They had a quiet breakfast with a rather chastened-looking roomful of Myka's colleagues and their partners. Even Artie was as grumpy as a mother bear defending her cubs, not even bothering to reply when Helena poked him and asked loudly if someone had lost an overfed hobbit.

The hike was up into the Catskills, on one of the less challenging trails, allegedly, but 15 minutes into the trek Myka was sweating profusely, as were most of the other staff. Helena looked fresh, annoyingly, her hair in a ponytail, which was bouncing as she walked alongside Deb and Ted, in an intense conversation about something. Myka was walking beside Artie, who was huffing like a steam train.

"She's a very interesting woman, your wife," Artie said, eventually, in between deep breaths.

"I think so," Myka said, a small smile pulling at her lips. She was proud of Helena; proud of the growing up she'd done recently, the way she'd turned herself around.

"She's a writer, she said, and she is working on some inventions with a friend. So you're keeping her, essentially?" he asked, adjusting his glasses on his sweaty nose. Myka was glad she'd worn her contacts. Glasses were hell when you were sweaty.

"I am, I guess. But only for now. She works so hard, Artie, and she looks after me, feeding me, making sure my clothes are laundered and she even gets up most mornings now to make me breakfast," Myka said, almost defensively.

"I don't doubt that you love her, Myka. And she obviously cares for you. Just be careful. I'd hate to see you hurt," Artie said, with a shrug. Myka looked at him uncertainly before turning her attention back to the trail. She sped up after a while, leaving Artie behind with a wave, and she and Helena walked arm in arm to the summit, sitting together to enjoy a picnic provided by the staff at the resort. It was a beautiful day. They chatted to everyone as they descended, slipping and sliding in some places and holding each other up, laughing. By the end of the hike Myka felt she knew her colleagues better than she had in all of her years at the firm, all because of Helena.

Dinner was formal, the last big meal together before they returned home the next afternoon. It was delicious again, and Myka and Helena stayed close, holding hands when possible, Myka tracing Helena's skin the whole time, feeling suddenly insecure because of Artie's words. What did he see in Helena that she didn't? She watched Helena chat to Mr Kosan, thoroughly charming him, her lips curled in that generous, beautiful smile that Myka loved. Helena caught her staring and raised an eyebrow in question.

"Everything okay, darling?" she asked, quietly, and Myka just nodded, taking a sip from her wine. She was being careful with what she drank, to avoid another hangover.

A little later, the dancing was about to begin, but Artie decided to make an announcement, first.

"We're giving out an award, this evening. Best newcomer, which I'm giving to the funniest, most evil broom-riding harpy I've come across in many years. Myka Bering surprised me with her secret marriage, and now I see why. She's afraid one of us will steal her. Helena Wells, ladies and gentlemen!"

Helena was called up to the small dais where the band was waiting. She smiled at everyone while she read the dedication on the award.

"Thank you, everyone," she said, quietly, into the microphone. "It's been such a pleasure getting to know you all this weekend. Some of you might not know that Myka and I didn't know each other for very long when we got married."

Myka's heart almost stopped. Was Helena about to out their marriage, their idiocy, in front of all of her colleagues? The gambling, the drinking, the getting married while completely smashed?

Helena sought her out in the crowd, smiling at her widely, beautifully.

"As a consequence, we never got to have our first dance. I wonder if you'll indulge us, everyone, and give us that chance tonight?" Helena asked, quietly, and there was a round of applause and cheers. Helena leaned over to speak to the singer, who smiled and passed the message on. Helena walked over to Myka and took her hand, kissing it.

"May I have this dance, Myka?" she asked, and Myka gaped, unable to speak. Helena just pulled her towards the dancefloor, laughing, and pulling Myka to her. They were almost eye-to-eye, swaying slowly to the music, Myka's arms around Helena's waist, and Helena's around Myka's neck. The band was playing "The way you look tonight."

"You scared me," Myka managed, eventually. "I thought you were going to tell them all."

"Tell them what?" Helena asked gently. "That you changed my life? That you have been nothing but generous and loving to me and you have turned my life on its head?"

Myka blushed, and Helena kissed her on the cheek. A moment later there was a chorus of tinkling, and as they turned and swayed, Myka saw that her colleagues were standing around, tapping their spoons on their glasses.

"I believe that means that they wish us to kiss, darling," Helena said, and her voice was husky. Myka stared at her.

"In front of all these people? I…"

Helena leaned in, and Myka couldn't stop herself from leaning forward, too. Their kiss was almost chaste, but they were still breathless when they stopped, and the room was full of cheering and whistling people. Myka was red and felt ready to faint, but Helena held her, kissing her cheek and holding her close as they carried on swaying, the rest of the room joining them on the dance floor.

The rest of the night passed in a haze for Myka. She only had eyes for Helena, and they danced almost the whole night, never letting go of one another. They eventually went to bed, and this time Myka was sober and determined and Helena wasn't resisting.

They had made love several times and were almost asleep when Helena pulled the hair back from Myka's ear, leaning forward to whisper.

"I'm in love with you, Myka Bering."

Myka stared at her, wide-eyed, and Helena laughed nervously.

"I just thought you should know."

Myka kissed her, and she knew that she was repeating it, later, when they were entwined and gasping, over and over, breathing it into Helena's ear. "I love you… I love you…"

The next morning when Myka woke, Helena was gone.