I couldn't resist the start of this chapter. Don't worry, that doesn't mean anything nearly as dubious as you thought it did. Unless you weren't thinking of anything dubious.

As always I offer thanks to all of you have been reviewing. I try to think of something else to say that doesn't end up being the exact same thing every chapter, but really all I can think of to say is – thank you, thank you, thank you. :)

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Nikola's heart felt like it was racing with his mind to keep up on what was going on. Helen was in his arms. Helen was in his arms kissing him. It seemed too good to be real. Then, just as though life had tapped into his thoughts and agreed with him, she froze, pulling away.

"What?" he said, fear striking him. She'd realised she didn't love him, she didn't want him, it was all a huge mistake. "What is it?"

"Footsteps," she said. Or it could be that she'd heard someone coming. "Quickly." She nudged him to the wardrobe. "There's no time to get out of the room."

He couldn't help but grin as she shoved him into her old wardrobe, climbing in after him and shutting the door.

"What?" she whispered.

"It's like we're those young things again," he grinned, speaking softly, "And your father has come home early from a trip..."

She shot him a 'you're really going to do this now?' look. He stayed silent but the grin was still firmly in place on his face. Helen Magnus had been kissing him, and they'd almost been sprung, like a pair of horny teenagers. Could this day get any better? Well, aside from the whole inadvertently muddling with their timelines debacle but, really, it was one tiny little blunder and he had just been kissing Helen Magnus.

Helen was eyeing him as though she knew exactly what he was thinking – and she probably did – and so smacked him softly on the arm. He looked at her with a frown, feigning hurt. She rolled her eyes in response and mouthed 'focus' to him. All he was focused on was the way her lips moved so delicately to form the word.

The bedroom door opened and past-Helen sauntered in. Nikola would have said 'like she owned the place' but then she did own the place.

She moved over to the desk, shuffling through some papers.

Future-Helen looked over to Nikola, and was startled to see how close they were. She could have sworn they'd been standing at least two feet apart in the wardrobe before and now their faces were inches apart. He was smiling at her and then she felt his hand against her ribs, trailing down until it found residence on her waist, tugging gently to bridge the miniscule gap between them.

His intentions were perfectly clear and, had she not been so intoxicated by his lips from their earlier make-out session, she probably would have been able to keep a logical mind and resist. They really shouldn't be making out like a pair of teens in the wardrobe while her past-self was in the room, unbeknownst of their presence. If her past-self opened the door to see her future-self, who knows what chaos could occur. But none of that seemed very important to Helen as Nikola's lips pressed against hers.

They were broken apart when they heard a sigh. Helen jumped. Why was everyone suddenly creeping up on her today? She blamed Nikola. Him and those distracting lips. She glared at him and he frowned in confusion.

"Where has Nikola run off to?" past-Helen mused to herself (well, she thought it was to herself). Her hands were on her hips and she was looking at the door thoughtfully. She was standing a few metres away from the wardrobe. This time it wasn't Nikola's presence that was making future-Helen's heart beat fast.

It was only when her former-self left the room that Helen let out the breath she'd been holding.

"What was that lethal glare for?" Nikola said, amusedly. He was pushed out of the wardrobe – rather roughly too, as Helen had decided being in closed spaces with him was not the way to get things done today.

"For serving as an all-too effective distraction," she said, stepping gracefully out of the wardrobe after his stumbling form. "If she'd opened that door..."

"She would have seen a future-version of herself and myself kissing?" Nikola smirked, "As opposed to just seeing a future version of yourself and your friend, which would be much more understandable."

"You should follow her," Helen said, ignoring his remark.

"I never thought I'd hear permission to stalk you," he grinned, taking a step toward her.

"More like I have a problem with you standing me up in any timeline," Helen retorted. "She's wondering where you've run off to."

"We could always spend another few minutes in the wardrobe," Nikola suggested, "In case she returns. Just to be safe."

"Go," Helen said, shaking her head in amusement.

He flashed her a smile before he headed to the door and Helen felt a surge of something peculiar. If she didn't know any better, she would say that was jealously she was feeling. But that would just be absurd. How could she possibly be jealous of her former-self spending time with her Nikola? When he returned, she was going to kill that vampire for making her such a mess over him.

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"James!" James spun around, his mind immediately recognising the voice of the mysterious future-Helen rather than the one of his own time. "How did you manage to slip away unnoticed?"

James smirked.

"When you and Nikola are the other two occupants of the room?" he said, "All too easily, my dear." She shook her head and rolled her eyes in response.

"Honestly," she muttered under her breath.

"Do you not wish to hear what I have found out?" he prodded.

"James, I don't have time to think about Nikola, or your suspicions, or any evidence you have found to support your assertions pertaining to our relationship -," she said.

"My dear," he stepped toward her with a twinkle in his eye, "I meant in regards to Adam Worth."

"Ah...well," she said, clearing her throat, and feeling foolish that it had been her mind that had immediately jumped to Nikola. Again. "Yes, then I would very much like to hear what it is you have discovered."

James stood regarding her with amusement for a long moment, obviously silently lording the small triumph over her. This time, he was letting the evidence speak for itself about his assumptions to do with the pair.

"I just got news that Worth has been spotted at a club," James said.

"Well that could be either of the Adams," Helen reminded.

"Ah, yes, but you did not let me finish, my dear," he said, "You see this Adam was seen at the club at a time which coincides with the time in which we were with his counterpart."

"So it must be my Worth then," Helen said, eyes widening with delight at the progress.

"I do not trust that spark in your eye," he said, "You may be a future version of the Helen I know, but I know that look, and it never means anything good."

"Relax, James, dear," Helen said with a little smirk, "I'm going to pay a friend a little visit."

She patted him on the shoulder as she brushed past him, and he spun around to watch her go in concern. He could follow her to make sure she was alright, or more to the point, to make sure she didn't do anything too foolish. But he'd never known Helen Magnus – in any time – to listen a damned word anyone said to dissuade her once she was on a warpath. Her determination was astounding, and he'd be more impressed if it were not so frustrating. But there was one person who he knew could very well get her to listen, at least marginally. Or at the very least, could conceivably go along with whatever scheme she was cooking up in order to protect her. Nikola Tesla, her eternal partner in crime.

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When James walked into the study where Helen and Nikola were having tea, he wasn't the least surprised to see they'd forgone propriety and were both seated on the floor. The pair were sitting in front of the hearth, a fire burning almost as brightly as his own Helen's eyes as she talked to her old friend. There were two cups of tea and a teapot placed delicately around them – deliberately positioned to avoid her ample skirts which flared out about her.

"Oh but you simply must tell me about it, Niko," she was saying, as she swatted his hand playfully.

"James," Nikola's eyes sought him out. It was thought he were looking for escape.

The problem was, Nikola was feeling too comfortable around her. This was Helen. It didn't matter that she was a hundred years younger, she was still Helen. It wasn't that he wanted to initiate anything now – of course not – he'd surmised as much before. He was too much in love with the woman, his love growing along with her as she'd weathered so many years, he knew now. But he'd never thought it would be this painful to sit and talk to past-Helen like this. It had all seemed so un-fix-ably complex then. But now it all seemed painfully simple. His heart ached to think of all the years that he – they – had wasted being complete and utter idiots. For, he was sure now that if he leant in to kiss her she would not pull away. This was something he longed to share with his former self so that maybe, just maybe, it would serve to metaphorically knock their heads together and they could save themselves all the heart-ache of a hundred years of pining.

So much for all their brilliance, they were both idiots, plain and simple.

Helen had seemingly not even noticed Watson enter the room until Nikola had greeted him. He nodded at them both in greeting, but couldn't help but feel rushed. He had a sinking feeling that future-Helen was rushing into something thoroughly unprepared and dangerously.

"Nikola," James said, "We've received a message for you, and it appears to be rather urgent."

Nikola surveyed James and understood his meaning. Future-Helen was up to something. Nikola nodded.

"I'm afraid we'll have to pick up later," Nikola addressed past-Helen now.

"Yes, yes of course," she responded. She stood as he stood though, and James recognised the sparkle in her blue eyes as alarmingly similar to the one he'd seen in her counterpart's eyes minutes ago. Nikola seemed to recognise the look too.

"Helen," he said, warningly.

"Oh, Nikola," she said, "When have you ever shut me out of a potential adventure? That's not fair, I always let you in on the good things." She offered a little smile.

"I'm sure this is terribly dull," he replied, "Simply some things to do with designs, nothing that would constitute an adventure."

She let out a little huff.

"Fine," she said, "If you do not wish to be in my company any longer, I shall make myself scarce."

He was torn as he watched her stalk off, but ultimately knew he had to get rid of her somehow to aid his Helen. So he turned to James instead.

"What is it? What has she gone and done?" he said.