Pete was terrified. He met Claudia at the airport, and they had just arrived at the Wells museum when they heard the gunshot. He ran in, kicked his way in to the library and there she was. Myka's match, who was HG Wells, as it turned out, standing over a dead man with a smashed up face. His brains were on the floor. Pete swallowed. HG had blood on her fists and blood on her chest. Pete was trying to decide what to do about that when she made the decision for him by passing out. She hit her head pretty hard on the way down, too. Claudia went to check on her and he went to let Myka out of the cuffs. She ran over to the HG and pressed her jacket against the wound on her chest. HG was losing a lot of blood. Claudia called the paramedics and Pete just stood there, not knowing what to do. What the hell had even happened? They were supposed to be picking up the damn vest, the vest that the hot English chick was bleeding all over as they spoke, and instead there was a dead dude and an almost dead HG Wells. Myka didn't talk other than to say that Helena had saved her, had taken a bullet for her.
He spoke to the police outside when the paramedics wouldn't let them go with, and flashed his badge and threatened until they agreed to follow the ambulance. Myka was shaking and muttering. There was blood all over her. He'd never seen her like this, she was incoherent. Myka was always calm, it was Pete who was the one who freaked out, not Myka. He didn't know what to do, so he just sat next to her and talked to her quietly, telling her it was going to be okay. When they were at the hospital Claudia had tried to clean Myka's hands, and she screamed. Just once, but it was enough to freak the hell out of Claud. And Pete, for that matter. He wrapped her up in his jacket and tried to keep her calm.
When they took Myka to the hospital room, she was okay for a minute, listening to the doc. But he said that the news wasn't good, and talked about percentages, and then Myka started to scream, these guttural, awful screams, and he shouted for help. She collapsed to her knees, his partner who was usually so together and composed. The doc gave her a shot, and Pete carried her to a nearby room and left her sleeping with a nurse watching over her while he checked on Claudia.
"Hey Claud, are you okay?"
She was sitting on the hard plastic chairs in the hallway, hugging her knees. Her face was nearly as white as HG Wells'.
"Yeah, I guess." She attempted a smile. "I just never thought I would see Myka like that, you know? She's usually the one comforting us. I have never seen her lose it like that. And her match - HG – it doesn't look good, you know? Not just the gunshot wound, but her head – man, she hit it really hard. The doc said they don't know for sure how bad it is, not yet anyway. But it's not good. I don't think she's gonna make it, Pete. And she saved Myka. It's not fair."
Pete sat next to her.
"I know, Claud. It all went really bad, really fast. We just have to be here for Mykes. She's gonna be okay. Hopefully HG will too."
Claudia gave him a sceptical look, but took a deep breath and said, "We need to call Artie. He needs to know."
"Okay."
They called Artie on the Farnsworth.
"Pete. Did you get the vest?"
They explained what had happened, and that the man on the floor was MacPherson. (It had been a pretty safe bet that it was him already, because nobody else wore that much tweed. But the police had confirmed it for Pete on the way to the hospital.) Artie put his head in his hands.
"I really hoped it wouldn't come to this. He was a good man, once."
"I'm sorry, man. But he tried to kill Myka. I would have killed him myself if HG hadn't."
"Is she going to live?" Artie didn't sound like he really cared either way, which Pete thought was pretty unfair.
"They don't know yet. But she took a bullet for Myka, Artie. In my book, that makes her one of us." Pete didn't often confront Artie, but he wasn't going to let this slide. He glared a little, his chin stuck out pugnaciously.
"Yes, yes, she saved Myka. I've got the message, Pete. I'll speak to Mrs Frederic and see if there's anything we can do."
Pete nodded. "Good."
"Claudia, are you okay?" Artie's face was creased in concern. They knew Claudia didn't like hospitals, but Pete didn't know why. He suspected that Artie did, though.
"Yeah, grumps, I'm fine. Worry about Myka and her One, not me." She was hugging her knees again. Pete resolved to keep her spirits up however he could. He had a PSP in his bag; maybe that would help distract her.
"All right. I'm going to contact Mrs Frederic. Keep me updated." And Artie was gone.
Pete closed the Farnsworth and sat next to Claudia, putting his arm around her shoulders. She tensed and then leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. They stayed there overnight, huddled together, waiting to see what the dawn would bring.
What the dawn brought was Mrs Frederic, holding a gold staff with a snake and wings on it.
"Agent Lattimer. Ms Donovan."
They woke up with a start, and wiped drool from their chins as they tried to extricate themselves from each other and the hospital chairs with some semblance of dignity.
"I need your assistance."
They both nodded at the grave tone of the Caretaker's voice.
"This is the rod of Asclepius. It will heal Agent Wells, but it has a downside. It will inflict the wounds upon the wielder of the staff – that is, me. Since I am connected to the Warehouse, the injuries Agent Wells has sustained will not be fatal to me. I will, however, be indisposed for a time while I recover. I need you to take me away from here discreetly so that I can recover. Can you do that?"
Claudia stared at Mrs Frederic, and then met Pete's eyes and mouthed the words, "Agent Wells?" Pete shrugged. They had a plan to make, and he wasn't going to dwell on that part of things. HG had earned the job as far as he was concerned – if she even wanted it.
After that it was just a matter of making a few calls. They rented a house nearby with a garage so they could take Mrs F inside without being seen. And he called a car rental company who had a car with a large trunk there in a half hour.
Claudia took off in a cab to meet the rental agent and get the keys for the house, and Pete stayed with Mrs F so she could do the mumbo-jumbo with the staff to save Myka's One. Pete had a gurney standing by for when Mrs F collapsed.
"Agent Lattimer. Please ensure that you do not touch the staff – or me – without gloves, at least until you have taken the staff from my hands. Otherwise the injuries will pass to you, and you will not survive them." He nodded, frowning at the seriousness of her tone. He snapped his gloves on and positioned the gurney next to Mrs Frederic.
It was a little anticlimactic after all that. Mrs F just touched the end of the staff gently to HG's forehead and then staggered. Pete guided her onto the gurney and took the staff out of her hands gently, making sure not to touch it with his bare skin. He put the staff on the gurney next to Mrs F and was just about to roll her out of there when he heard a choking noise from the hospital bed.
HG was waking up and she was panicking. He moved to the bed and turned her face so she could see him.
"HG. It's Pete, do you remember me?" She nodded, her eyes wide and terrified.
"I have to go right now, but you're okay, I promise. Don't panic. Just press the call button and the nurses will come after I've gone, okay? You can trust me, you saved Myka. That means you and me are buds for life. So just stay calm, okay?" She nodded again, this time with conviction.
Pete rolled Mrs Frederic out of the room and down the corridor to a side door where he'd stashed the car. He managed to get her into the trunk without being noticed and drove to the house where he met Claudia and the two of them got Mrs F into a bedroom without too much trouble. She was surprisingly light, actually. But Pete didn't voice that thought. He figured the word 'surprisingly' might get him killed. He left Claudia with Mrs Frederic and drove back to the hospital to check on Myka and HG.
Myka woke up alone in a hospital room and for a moment she had no idea what she was doing there. Then she remembered. Helena.
She was out of bed and on her feet before she had thought things through. Thankfully she realised that she was wearing one of those stupid hospital gowns that are open at the back before she left the room and showed her bare ass to half of London. She found her clothes in a bedside cabinet and got dressed quickly, shuddering at the caked blood on her jeans and shirt. Helena had to still be alive. She just had to.
She walked out into the unfamiliar corridor and was trying to find the nurse's station when she caught sight of Helena's still form in a room a couple of doors down from hers. Helena was completely motionless, and Myka was horrified when she noticed that there weren't any tubes any more, no bandages. Why would they have taken the tubes out? She couldn't be – was she dead? Why was no-one with her?
She sank down in the chair next to the bed and touched Helena's hand hesitantly. Her warm, soft hand.
Helena's eyes snapped open.
"Myka." Her voice was warm and sweet and beautiful. She was alive? How could she be okay? – the bullet had shredded her lung, damaged her heart, and the head injury – what the hell had happened?
"How?" That was all Myka could get out.
"Mrs Frederic." Pete's voice came from behind her.
"Peter. What did Irene do? Is she all right?" Helena asked, her voice low and concerned.
"She used the Rod of a Creepy Ass."
"The Rod of Asclepius?" Myka asked, eyebrow raised.
Pete shrugged. "Yeah, that sounds right. She took HG's injuries on herself, she said. The Warehouse will fix her. Claudia's with her."
Helena shook her head, wonderingly.
"I can't believe she would do that, for me."
"Well, you earned it, HG. You saved Mykes." He ran over to the bed, the great big man-child, and put his arms round Helena and squeezed. Myka stifled a giggle at the look on Helena's face. She looked startled and horrified all at once.
Then Pete squeezed Myka, too.
"I'm so glad you're safe, Mykes. When I heard that gunshot...you promised me we'd go out together, man. Don't do that to me, okay?"
She squeezed him right back.
"It wasn't really my idea, Pete. We were just supposed to be picking up the damn vest. I didn't expect to get held at gunpoint by James MacPherson. If Helena hadn't been there..." she trailed off, smiling softly over his shoulder at Helena.
Pete let her go and straightened up, bouncing on his toes.
"I'm gonna go and check with the docs to see if we can get you guys outta here. I can take you back to your apartment." He bounded off, leaving Myka and Helena staring at each other in stunned silence.
Myka broke it first.
"When I saw you just now, they'd taken all the tubes out, all the machines. I thought you...I thought you were dead." Her eyes were filled with tears.
"And I thought I wouldn't get to you in time. I thought he was going to kill you, Myka. I thought I was going to lose you." Helena sat up, clutching Myka's hand as if it was a lifeline.
"If he'd killed you, Myka – I don't know what I would have done." Her eyes were dark, and Myka could see that hint of...something behind her eyes.
"But he didn't, Helena. Because you saved me. You could have died, but you stood in front of me and took a bullet that was meant for me."
Helena looked at her and her eyes were filled with tears, but there was a look of wonder in her eyes as they met Myka's.
"I would do anything for you, Myka."
Suddenly the distance between them was too great. Myka stood and leaned over the bed to kiss Helena, burying her hands in that hair that was still perfect even after a head injury. Definitely the blood of virgins, Myka thought idly. Helena's lips were soft and warm. She was alive. Myka's heart was thudding with relief and happiness and she wanted to climb into that bed right now with Helena and finish what they'd started the night Mrs Frederic interrupted. Finish it and then start it again and again. From the way Helena's hands were roaming, and grasping convulsively at Myka's clothes, she was feeling the same.
"Ahem!"
Myka reluctantly broke away from Helena, turning to see a very happy looking Pete in the doorway of the hospital room.
"Sorry, laydeez." He was grinning in a way that Myka knew meant trouble for her in future – endless jokes and teasing about lady-lovin' and what it was like to 'hit that'. She glared at him. There was real venom in it.
Pete gulped as he took in the look on her face.
"Uh, sorry, but the doc says you guys can go now. Dr Calder had to call them to persuade them to let you go, HG, because they don't understand how you recovered so quickly. Anyway we should probably go before they change their minds."
He shrank back as Myka continued to glare.
"I'll just wait outside while you get ready, then. Spit spot!" He attempted a Mary Poppins voice at that last, and Myka's glare grew withering. He backed away, hands up as if she had a gun on him. She thought she might, if he carried on.
She turned back to Helena.
"Are you ready to get out of here?" She smiled softly, just enjoying the fact that Helena was there, was alive. The way she'd hit her head – Myka had really thought that was it for Helena - for them.
Helena's smile in response was almost blinding in its intensity.
"Oh, yes. I can't wait to get you alone, Agent Bering." Her voice was low and throaty. Myka's face reddened and her heart thudded pleasantly in her chest.
"You better get dressed, then. So I can undress you again." It was Helena's turn to flush, this time. Myka grinned.
Pete insisted that Helena sit in the front of the car, now that they were 'best buds'. Helena's smile was a little uneasy, and Myka tried very hard not to laugh, but a snort escaped her, and Helena gave her a withering look from the front seat.
The journey home was way too long. Myka was leaning forward with her head between the front seats, and she was holding Helena's hand, but she just wanted to launch herself onto the front seat and do things to Helena that would probably make Pete crash the car. She bit her lip in frustration, but was slightly mollified when Helena caught her eye and she could see the reflection of her own frustration in those dark eyes.
Pete was slow to take the hint when they arrived at the apartment building. But after a few minutes during which he was blatantly trying to invite himself in, Myka asked Helena to go on up and she'd see her in a minute. She waited until Helena was out of earshot and rounded on Pete in a fury.
"Pete. Are you frickin' kidding me? This is our furlough. She was just nearly killed. You have got to go, or I will kill you with my bare hands, do you understand?" She punched him in the arm, hard enough to make him wince. He shrank back against the car, his hands up in surrender once again.
"Sorry, Mykes, I've just been missing ya. And I want to get to know your girl!"
Myka gave him her trade-mark death glare.
"Yeah, well so do I, Pete. In private. So if you're not gone in the next minute, they're gonna need Mrs Frederic to heal you too. Okay?"
He ran forward and gave her a quick hug, and said, "I love you, Mykes," into her ear, and then made a big show of checking his watch to see how much longer he had before his minute was up. She punched him in the arm again and he finally relented.
"Have fun, lady lover."
Her glare was hotter than the sun. He grinned as he drove away.
Myka practically ran the whole way to the apartment. Helena was sitting at the table as she opened the door, and then she was on her feet, and she was in Myka's arms. They were kissing hard and Helena pushed Myka back against the door, her hands pulling at Myka's collar and grabbing her curls. There was an intensity to all of it that was making Myka's head spin. Somewhere in her brain a voice was telling her that this was just a reaction to them both nearly dying, to Helena sacrificing herself for Myka, but she told the voice to shut the hell up.
They broke apart for a moment, gasping.
"You nearly died." Myka said, flatly.
"I know."
"If you ever do that again, I'll kill you."
"Noted." Helena's chest was heaving.
Myka spun them around so that Helena was against the door, and she kissed her hungrily, burying her hands in that beautiful hair, pulling a little harder than she normally would, and biting Helena's lip. She was suddenly angry and sad and she wanted Helena more than she'd ever wanted anything. She reached down and scooped Helena up in her arms like she weighed nothing and carried them both to the bedroom, kissing Helena fervently the whole time, turning once again to close the door behind them. She pushed Helena against the bedroom door, pushed their bodies together, pulling at her clothes and claiming every available inch of the woman she now knew she was in love with.
They moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and Myka took off Helena's shirt quickly, urgently, her fingers making quick work of the buttons. Her hands stilled when she saw that there was no scar, no visible mark of the bullet that had nearly claimed Helena's life. Helena saw the look in Myka's eyes, the set of her jaw, and said, "Myka, what..."
That was all she got out before Myka's mouth was covering hers again, her tongue possessively moving against Helena's and her hands pulling at zips and tearing at buttons. But Helena surprised Myka then by pulling her down and flipping them over so that Myka was lying underneath Helena, and she had somehow managed to capture both of Myka's wrists in her hands so that she couldn't continue her aggressive exploration of Helena's body.
"Not that I'm complaining, my love, but something isn't right. Tell me what's going on. Please."
Myka stared at her, furious and scared and sad all at once.
"You could have died. You could have left me, and you never would have even known," she said plaintively, in a tiny voice.
"Known what, Myka?" Helena's voice was soft and trembling.
"You wouldn't have known. I wouldn't have been able to tell you." Myka was crying now, her eyes almost grey in the half-light of the bedroom.
"Tell me now. It's all right. I'm here." She kissed Myka softly, and moved her lips to Myka's cheek to kiss the tears that were cascading from her eyes.
"I love you, Helena." She looked into Helena's eyes as she said it, said the words that she never thought she'd say again after Sam.
Helena's eyes filled and her mouth trembled.
"I love you too, Myka. I love you."
Their lips were joined again and Myka couldn't think about any of it anymore, because all she could think about was the paleness of Helena's flesh, the softness of her skin, the way she moved, how her eyes fluttered closed when Myka touched her in the right place, the freckles that popped up in the most unexpected of places. How she sounded, her breath coming in soft gasps, and the moans that escaped her when Myka kissed the right spot in the soft curve of her back. The taste of her mouth. They moved together as if they'd done this a thousand times before, and Myka thought that even if they did this another thousand times, she would still not stop feeling this breathless awe that the woman beneath her was the time traveller she'd dreamed of since she was a child. She was a miracle made flesh, and Myka would never let her go, never again. Every touch they shared was magnified by the fear of losing one another, and the relief that they hadn't. Myka was lost in Helena's eyes, and when Helena came with a groan that bordered on a scream, Myka thought she might die of want and longing and love.