A/N: This chapter was difficult since I had to fill plot holes and try to figure out what Helena gives to Claudia. I want to thank Wispr, john6lisa, SwanQueen4tw, and other Bering and Wells fangirls who were of great help to me.

RL has been very hard on me with lots of health problems, so that is one reason this took longer to write. There are only three chapters left, so hopefully I can get them out sooner!

Helena's memory of giving Claudia is separated by italics and ...

"Let there be an opening in the quiet that lies beneath the chaos, where you find the peace you did not think possible and what shimmers within the storm." -John O'Donohue

With the flip of a switch, the soft glow of my floor lamps casts shadows, and yet these projections are not fearful.

They are not the symbols of death, but of the mundane, and while there was a time I would scoff at the domesticity, I find myself welcoming it with open arms.

After all, Myka is here with me. Voluntarily, and seemingly without malice. At least, for the moment.

After setting my cooler of fresh blood down, I quickly divest myself of my wet boots, and hang my damp coat on one of the brass pegs located next to the door. The steady rain beats against the window, and it feels wonderful to be inside my dry flat. I am heartened tomorrow's forecast calls for sunny weather.

Myka seems to struggle out of her own wet coat, so I use the opportunity to become gallant.

"Permit me, my lady." I bow, reach up, and wait for her to yield, which she does with a subtle roll of her eyes, but otherwise does not comment. I am however delighted to see a trace of amusement in her features.

I hang her coat on the peg next to mine, and turn unsurprised to see Myka has lined her own damp boots neatly together. She raises an eyebrow at the sloppy placing of my own boots, and I simply shrug, and smile.

After a slight shake of her head, Myka frowns a bit as she takes in my apartment, which has changed little since she last saw it.

My smallish one bedroom apartment is on the outskirts of Sunnydale, with the apartment complex actually similar to Giles'. When I was assigned to Suunydale for an undetermined amount time to stop MacPherson's ascension, this apartment was rented for me by the mysterious Mrs. Fredric. I was not privy to any particulars; I simply showed up, with the apartment fully furnished. After my assignment was over, I was forced to leave.

As luck would have it, the next renter decided to move in September. Giles "inadvertently" let it slip it was available. I had passed the soul test at that point, and was now free of the manipulations of the Powers that Be, so I thought why not?

I told myself having the apartment was simply a matter of practicality; if I needed a place to stay overnight while collecting any artifacts from Giles, I had a place to stay.

Of course, I was lying to myself; it was a hope that someday I could stop being an emotional coward, and see if I could pursue a relationship with Myka.

I decided to have a friend sign the lease while I "sublet" from him. It was the only way I could think of to stay away from Myka and Claudia's prying eyes. It seemed to work, as they never even realized I was here. I have only stayed here a few times this past month. Instead, I simply opted to return to Los Angeles upon collecting latest cache of artifacts from Giles.

I set the keys on the small table close by and lock the door. Turning back around, I see Myka's slight frown has disappeared (to my great relief). Instead, there is wariness and some anxiety.

I start to say something, but notice Myka's shiver. I presume it due to the wet and cold, and immediately head to the bathroom, calling, "I have a nice, clean, fluffy towel here you may use." Considering my own hair is wet, I grab one for myself as well.

Upon my return, I am struck by how vulnerable she appears. Her confidence is missing, and there is no Slayer in front of me. Myka is on the cusp of adulthood, and yet, in this moment, she is only a teenage girl.

The earlier blunt declaration of a dalliance from nearly eighty years ago was certainly unexpected. It seems the vengeance demon Saramander has lost her powers, and is now a human who answers to the name of Amanda Jenkins.

Amanda's inability to traverse human discourse without offense is noticeable. I recall our night together, and know HG appreciated her candor. She understood practicalities. Amanda had no qualms over seeing a vampire feed, the need of a demon requiring human flesh for food, or a demon who enjoyed and incited violence wherever they go, and with whom or whatever crosses their path. The concept of seeking to alter their behavior was foreign to her; it was simply in their nature, she reasoned.

I feel for her; living over 1,000 years as a vengeance demon, able to perform the most extravagant, painful wish at the snap of a finger on behalf of any wronged woman, forced against her will to return to the state of a fallible fragile human being. Amanda had been a human before being offered the role of vengeance demon, but it was so long ago, the rules have changed, and I sincerely doubt she was prepared in any sense of the word to navigate this life.

While I would never verbally express this, I find Peter to have a higher maturity level than his actions sometimes demonstrate. I have seen it with Myka; he sees beyond the surface and uses this understanding in his interactions with his friends. The young man cares deeply, and from the interaction between he and Amanda tonight, I see someone who may be able to provide the caring and understanding Amanda needs.

I believe Myka on the other hand seems to have limited tolerance for Amanda and her eccentricities. In actuality, this surprises me, considering Myka understands and accepts the shades of gray in this world.

However, I may have misjudged her in light of the events and high emotions tonight. Once the initial shock wore off, I recognized Myka's reaction as one of jealousy, and irritation. When I did my best to explain the circumstances, she simply closed off.

Acknowledging my age and past is one thing; a full understanding of what that means is another.

My level of experience is so far beyond Myka's, and while I could never be disappointed in her, I wonder if she believes otherwise. It matters not to me if we ever make love. Simply being with her, holding her would be enough, despite HG who no doubt would voice her displeasure in no uncertain terms.

I return from retrieving the fluffy bath towel for Myka, tossing my own onto the couch. Gently wrapping it around her shoulders, I say quietly, "Here you go, my darling. It is a rather cold rain, and a hot shower may help warm you. If you wish, feel free to do so."

Myka loosens the towel enough to wrap it around her upper body. She holds it tight against herself as if in protection, and mutters, "Thank you."

There is something else happening with Myka besides being here, alone, with me, but I cannot tell what it is. I don't know if I feel relief as it appears to have little to do with me (directly at least), or anxiety and worry over the cause of her anxiety. My hand twitches with longing to caress her face, to ease her distress. Instead, I offer a fresh shirt and pants, adding, "Once you are finished, call out, and crack open the door so I can hand you the clothes."

I wish to respect Myka's privacy, which I hope she understands. It appears so as she nods before she ducks her head, and brushes past me on the way to the bathroom.

I hear the soft click of the bathroom door closing. Upon grabbing my towel, I dry my hair as best I can without the aid of the hair dryer still in the bathroom. Next, I head to my bedroom to rummage through my drawers in order to find something suitable.

/What are you doing? I don't see why she needs clothes./

HG provides her version of "helpful" images of Myka in the nude. I gulp, hoping to stem my arousal, knowing this is neither the time nor the place.

Instead, I choose to chastise HG.

'Just stop. I don't wish to have any discussion with you about the need for her to have clothes on or not.'

/Do what you want. It makes no difference to me. It's not my fault you never have the guts to do anything./ The tone is indifference, and HG retreats, leaving me surprised she gives no further comment.

I toss my towel into the hamper, and sigh at knowing I have no way to dry Myka's clothes. The dryer at my apartment complex will not be repaired until next month, as the owner of the building is currently enjoying the warmth and sun of Palm Springs. Instead, I will hang our clothes up to dry in the bathroom when Myka comes out, and hope for the best.

I lay out fresh clean clothing for each of us on my bed; for my own pants, while not overly wet due to my long duster, will still be uncomfortable to lounge in.

I am very thankful there was a consensus little could be accomplished tonight with the storm raging. Spike is most likely holed up somewhere waiting for it to pass before continuing his search tomorrow. Everyone left Giles' shortly thereafter, agreeing to reconvene tomorrow in order to execute our own plans for a search.

To my surprise, Myka agreed to my offer to talk further at my apartment. I had no wish for an audience for this much needed discussion, so this turn of events was much appreciated.

On the way here in my car, I tentatively gave an abbreviated account as to why I still had the same apartment. There were traces of anger and hurt after this explanation. I truly expected her to become irate, and refuse to come with me. To my great relief, she just emphasized this was one more topic we needed to discuss.

After changing into dry clothes, I return to the living room. Feeling the comfort of wearing dry lounge pants and shirt, I pick up the small cooler holding three packets of cow's blood next to the front door.

As usual, the thought of blood brings HG to the surface and I am unable to stop the flash of my demon on my face.

/I'm hungry. Go warm a packet up. Now./

I roll my eyes. 'You know perfectly well I had planned to have a packet of blood once we finally came to the apartment.'

/Whatever. Just get me some blood, you arse. And since you won't let us have Myka's blood, I suppose cow's blood with have to do./

I feel the usual mix at anger and arousal at HG's mention of Myka's blood, but stifle it, not in the mood to argue or berate her.

I can sense HG salivating at the thought of a cup of blood. Upon storing most of the blood in the fridge, I empty one packet into a mug, and heat it up in the microwave.

I have to admit, the blood hits the spot as it were. Feeding will give me more control over HG which is greatly needed for the conversation between Myka and myself. HG's constant interruption will only make things more difficult.

I drink rather quickly but HG seems not to mind, and purrs in contentment.

'Happy?' I ask dryly.

/What do you think?/

I sigh at the snark, but at least she retreats, and it suddenly occurs to me that while it makes no difference if this apartment is warm or cold, it will make a difference to a very human Myka.

After turning on the heat, I relax on the living room couch to wait while she showers, and my mind inadvertently returns to earlier this evening.

"Claudia, I have something I wish to give you."

I take the opportunity of a brief lull before we are forced back into uncomfortable realities to present the girl with a gift.

At the moment, Leena and Amanda are drying their clothes in Giles' bathroom down the hall, while Myka is upstairs retrieving Giles' hairdryer from his upstairs bathroom for the two women. Meanwhile, Giles and Peter are occupied in the kitchen. I can hear Giles alternately prepare tea and express irritability at the boy rummaging through his cupboards in search of cookies to satisfy his constant need of food.

...

Claudia scrambles to sit up on the living room carpet as I approach and I sit down beside her.

"You got me two presents?" She sounds so incredulous I almost laugh but keep myself in check when I see how serious this is to her.

"Yes, darling. It has been on my mind to do so for quite some time. I knew if...well, when...I would see you next, I would very much like to give these to you."

I hand Claudia two boxes, each wrapped in a small black gift box tied with a white bow, and watch with delight as her eyes shine bright and clear with happiness.

"The gift in the long box is connected to the other one," I explain.

"Can I open one?" I am struck by how much she looks a child upon Christmas morning, and I smile.

I do laugh this time and ruffle her hair. "Of course you may."

"Does it matter which one I open first?"

"You should open the one in the square box first." I say, then quickly add, "Please be careful in handling this particular one. It is a bit fragile, considering its age."

Claudia grins, and saluting me, she replies, "Aye, aye, captain."

She reaches for the small square box, unties the bow, lifts the lid, and gently unfolds wrapped tissue paper covering her gift. Slowly lifting the case from the gift box, Claudia sets the small wooden case upon the coffee table. It is a small pentagon shaped, and is really quite lovely.

She opens the latch, carefully lifting the lid, and removes the object and closely examines it.

"This is both a compass and sundial brass pocket watch, used by many seafarers in the late is a lockable compass pointer and internal direction pointer with sprit level."

Claudia's eyes widen. "Whoa!" She opens it. "This is awesome! I can't believe you bought it so long ago. It looks in great shape for something that old."

"It is made of brass, and besides the care I showed it over the years, I also had the watch and the box restored to their original condition," I explain.

"How come you never used it?"

"It was originally meant to be a gift..." I clear my throat and continue, "You see, this was a present for my daughter Christina. I had intended to give her it on her next birthday.

"A month or so after Christina turned six, she became obsessed with any sort of time pieces, as well as my own pocket watch. I struggled to keep it from her, because if I let her, she would never have given it back, and would become upset when I would take it back.

"At Christmas that year, I had decided to have a special pocket watch made for my brother Charles. There was an excellent watchmaker close to our residence. I made the mistake of bringing Christina along.

"The poor old watchmaker!" I chuckle. "He was unable to accomplish anything the rest of the day. Fortunately, he was a very patient and kind man, trying his best to answer every one of Christina's questions." I smile at the fond memory, and shake my head.

"Two months later, I decided to go back to him to see if I could have something made for me to give Christina for her next birthday. The watchmaker remembered how Christina had been especially taken with this compass sundial watch. He suggested I should buy it."

I suck in a breath I don't even need. "So, I did."

I pause, and then continue,"I am aware every parent believes their child to be exceptional, extraordinary. I feel you can truly say she was; her intellect, and I must say, even in her grasp of the concept of time itself, ironically, considering my own actions following her death.

"Unfortunately, Christina died before I could give her the watch," I choke out.

"After her death, I had placed it in the care of...a friend..." I close my eyes and pause as the memory surfaces of retrieving the watch not long after I was Turned. My friend had the misfortune of being home when HG had arrived. He was a good man, and his family was then left without a father, all to appease HG's insatiable for blood.

"I kept this because I couldn't bear to give it up...until I met you that is. You are a very special, gifted young woman Claudia Donovan, and I knew giving it to you was the right thing to do. You would understand and appreciate the gift like no one else could..."

I trail off, nervous I had made the wrong decision. She lifts her head, tears streaking down her face, and suddenly I have an armful, of Claudia Donovan crying into my shoulder.

I hold her like I used to with Christina, and rub soothing circles on her back until the tears subside. After a moment, Claudia pulls away from my embrace. Her face is red, and she rubs her eyes, but a beautiful smile appears on her face.

"This is the best present I've ever had," Claudia whispers.

"I'm glad." And smile with relief, and then giving her a nudge, I say, "You still have one more gift to open, you know."

She brightens. "Oh, yeah!"

After the gift is unwrapped, she opens the long box lid, and holds up the brass pocket watch chain.

"This chain is brand new, and I had it specially made for you."

I gently take the brass chain from her and reach over to pick up the compass/sundial pocket watch. I affix the chain to the watch, and hand it over to her.

Claudia bites her lip, and I am almost afraid she may start crying again. Instead, she looks at me and says, "I didn't know you had a daughter."

"I..." I struggle to explain without breaking down myself.

Suddenly Claudia reaches out, takes my hand, and briefly squeezes reassuringly.

"It's okay, Helena. You don't have to tell me anymore," she says quietly.

I stare at our clasped hands briefly, and feel the pleasure of the warm hand of this young woman who so reminds me of Christina and I experience a feeling I thought to never feel again; maternal love.

/Family/

I start, surprised at HG's reaction, the affection in her tone. I did not think she was capable of this kind of emotion towards a human being.

I'm aware Giles and Peter are returning to the living room, and I am loathe to continue. "It's a rather long story, I'm afraid, which I would be happy to relay at another time. As for now, I would greatly appreciate you not sharing this information with anyone else."

Claudia nods, and giving her hand a quick squeeze, I withdraw my hand. Not wanting the others to hear, I speak quietly, "Once we deal with Spike and the gem of Amara, I would very much like to return soon and we can go over your gift in greater detail."

"Promise?" She whispers.

"I promise," I whisper, and smile.

"Whoa! What's that, Claude?"

Peter comes over to investigate, and I quickly rise and stand aside only to see Myka standing there. I wonder how long she has been there and what she's heard.

There is a softness and sympathy in her eyes, which tells me she was present for at least part of my confession that Christina is my daughter.

...

Abruptly the memory is interrupted as I hear the sound of the bathroom door cracking open.

"Helena? Can you pass me the clothes now?"

"Of course!"

I jump up, gather the clothes, and hand them through the small opening, doing my best not to peek, much to HG's annoyance.

Myka shuts the bathroom door, and calls out, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome!" I call back.

I am suddenly aware rain is no longer pounding on the windows. However, it has not cleared entirely as I can still hear a light rain. Perhaps the storm is passing? I take a peek out the curtains.

Unfortunately, the moon is still obscured by the clouds, and I wonder if the worse is yet to come.