"When I was a kid, I thought that all the decorations were for my birthday," Helena said. Hunnigan chuckled and linked her arm with Helena's, leaning into the younger woman's side as they walked along the quiet street in the chilly evening air, almost all of the houses by now decorated with various Halloween decorations.
"You never wondered why people would decorate their houses with scary stuff for your birthday?" Hunnigan inquired and tugged on the leash a little to encourage Catnip to catch up. He quickly scampered to the women and paced by their side until he found the next interesting thing he absolutely needed to go check out.
"Clearly I was never the sharpest tool in the shed because nope, it never occurred to me to even wonder. Discovering it was actually for Halloween and that I had to share my birthday with a holiday made it less fun though."
"At least you don't have the questionable pleasure of sharing your birthday with Mister Jesus of the Christ family, so you are not allowed to complain," Hunnigan scoffed amusedly.
"Well, now that I think about it, that certainly explains your saintly and forgiving nature," Helena jested.
"Mm, and if the temperature drops enough for the lake to freeze, I'll show you how I walk on water," Hunnigan promised and Helena laughed softly.
"I love you, Hunnigan."
"I love you too. So, what do you want for your birthday?" she then asked.
"To cover you in whipped cream and lick it off before drinking shots from your belly button."
"That cannot be hygienic."
"Not the point, Hunny-Bunny."
"Do not call me that," Hunnigan rolled her eyes and Helena snickered. They paused to wait for Catnip who had once again ventured off the street as far as his leash allowed him to. Hunnigan was about to ask Helena to seriously tell her what she wanted when a flake of snow landed on the lens of her glasses.
"Oh," she exclaimed softly and looked up. The first snow began to fall slowly in a steady cascade of fluff. Catnip returned to the women, barking and jumping excitedly at the snow flakes as he tried to catch them in his mouth. Helena chuckled at the silly, energetic dog and moved to wrap her arms around Hunnigan's waist before leaning to kiss her gently and slowly.
"There, now we've kissed in the rain, in the sun, in the snow..." Helena then listed as she pulled back.
"We've kissed in the snow before," Hunnigan pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.
"True," Helena nodded and held up a finger, "but never in the first snow of the year," she clarified.
"Ah, all right then. Anything else you've been keeping track of?" Hunnigan then inquired.
"The days we've been together," Helena shrugged, "And before you ask, the answer is one thousand, one hundred and twenty-nine days."
"Wow, some people are lucky if their partners remember their anniversary," Hunnigan commented, genuinely amazed, and secretly mentally doing the math. It added up, three years and a little over a month on top. It felt like such a short moment, but at the same time, Hunnigan felt like she'd known Helena for a lot longer.
"What can I say, I'm a romantic," Helena chuckled.
"So, seriously, what do you want for your birthday?"
"I want... you to come to the game with me tomorrow," Helena said, offering an evil smirk.
"Why?" Hunnigan groaned.
"Because it's the last game of the season and because it would be a nice experience to share with you."
"Leon cancelled, didn't he?" Hunnigan narrowed her eyes.
"Yes," Helena admitted.
"Well, you're the birthday girl, so if you insist."
"Thank you! I was almost about to bring up the fact that you owe me one for dragging me into that boring horse show last week when Shannon bailed on you," Helena quirked an eyebrow.
"Boring!" Hunnigan exclaimed, "And I suppose watching a bunch of roided out men hitting a ball and chasing it is the pinnacle of grade-A entertainment," she taunted.
"It is if you get to experience it live."
"You could pour warm beer on yourself and block the view with something at home too," Hunnigan teased and Helena sighed, rolling her eyes.
"If you really don't want to go..."
"I'll go, and I'll enjoy it... Okay, I'll hide my reluctance to be there and disguise it so well you'll think I'm enjoying it."
"There's your romantic streak," Helena said happily and put her arm around Hunnigan's shoulders as they continued their walk in the snowfall.
"Halloween is supposed to be scary!" Emily said agitatedly after having grown tired of her mother's attempts at talking her into wearing some kind of a princess-costume, when Emily herself already had her heart set on being a zombie. Considering everything the girl had seen and been through recently with real zombies, Shannon wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing she wanted to dress up as one.
"Fine, I give up, be a zombie," Shannon sighed and raised her hands up in a surrender when Emily ventured off to the aisle with the scarier stuff, Hunnigan following behind her.
"How's her therapy been?" Helena inquired as she stayed behind with Shannon and the older woman shrugged one shoulder.
"I don't know. Emily doesn't talk much about it even when I ask, and the shrink doesn't seem to have much to say either. I guess I should consider myself lucky he hasn't called me in a panic after Emily's shown him a disturbing drawing or something," Shannon scoffed.
"Maybe she's... I don't know, I mean, when I was a kid, I was in denial, I was convinced my parents would come pick me and Deborah up any minute, which never happened... for obvious reasons. So... maybe she's in denial of zombies being real."
"So if that's true, then she thinks I stabbed her father in the head just because. Lovely," Shannon commented dryly and Helena sighed. Her attempts at making Shannon feel better were failing rather miserably.
"I think you would have noticed if that were really the case," she rolled her eyes, "I meant that maybe it all just hasn't really sunk in or maybe she's actually gotten over it."
"Or maybe she's blocked it and it'll manifest eventually as some kind of multiple personality disorder," Shannon said, her voice full of fake and sarcastic cheer.
"I was just trying to-"
"I didn't ask you to try a God damn thing!" Shannon interrupted in a hiss.
"Everything all right?" Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow as she returned with Emily, the shopping cart filled with various necessities for the girl's upcoming zombie makeup.
"Ayep," Shannon said nonchalantly, commandeered the cart and headed to the checkout with Emily.
"What did you fight about now?" Hunnigan asked Helena.
"I was just trying to tell her that kids are resilient, I would know... and that Emily will be fine. Apparently my self-proclaimed expertise on the matter was unwanted," Helena shrugged. Admittedly, Shannon had a point; just because Helena knew what it was like to go through something that had the potential to scar you for life didn't mean she could speak for Emily.
The girl hadn't acted out any more than usual, she hadn't done anything that would've implied there was something wrong, or that she'd even gone through something as disturbing as a zombie outbreak. Frankly, that troubled Shannon more than acting out would've. At least she would've had an explanation for fits of anger or sadness. She didn't even dare to speculate what could cause a child to behave normally after something like that. Either she had remarkable abilities when it came to healing from traumatic events, or then she just didn't care... which was, frankly, the disturbing option.
"I'm worried about her," Helena said.
"I am too, but as you said, Emily's a tough kid."
"No, I meant Shannon. I don't think she's dealt with any of this," the younger woman murmured and Hunnigan nodded.
"I've noticed it too. Frankly, I think the zombies were a bigger shock to her than to Emily."
"How did you react, when you first found out?" Helena inquired.
Hunnigan hadn't thought much of it, if she was honest. Prior to being transferred to what had later become the D.S.O. she'd worked as a 911 dispatcher, and during those couple of years she'd heard it all from cat ladies calling about their pet being stuck in a tree to having to listen to someone freak out when their apartment was being broken into... or worse, listen to people get hurt or killed. That part of her job still remained the same. She'd lost track of how much death and destruction she'd seen and how many field agents she'd lost. Everyone had their nightmares and ghosts, these were hers.
By the time she'd been hand-picked to work as an intelligence liaison for the teams investigating cases that officially didn't exist, and when she'd been told the truth about the Raccoon city incident, she had barely flinched.
"At that point I'd already seen pretty much the worst of what people were capable of doing to each other, so it's the 'normal' people that scare me the most. I think I was more fazed by the realization of how deep all these conspiracies actually reach and how well they're covered up when considering their scale. And considering that Shannon's dedicated her life to serving this country, I think she's more upset about our involvement in all this rather than the bioweapons themselves," Hunnigan explained and Helena nodded a little. It made sense.
"I'd want to try and talk to her. Would it be okay if I did that and you took Emily trick or treating without me?"
"I doubt Shannon will talk to you. And Emily will be disappointed."
"Yes, but if the girl hates me for something, that's guaranteed to cheer Shannon up, and if that isn't enough, she can always just kick my ass again," Helena shrugged with a smile.
"Good thinking," Hunnigan chuckled and looked at Helena for a long moment.
"What?" the younger woman frowned as they headed toward the checkout. For a while she thought Hunnigan was giving her a glare for picking up a bag of snack sized Mounds (which Hunnigan had repeatedly mentioned hating because she couldn't stand the smell or texture of coconut), but to her surprise, Hunnigan was smiling.
"Shannon's never been anything but mean to you, and still you want to try and talk to her and make sure she's okay."
"Told you I'm a sweetheart," Helena smirked, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm and Hunnigan laughed softly.
"You are. You really are."
Contrary to what had been Helena's original plan, she'd ended up going back to the city with Hunnigan, Emily and Catnip. She'd spent a while escorting Emily around the neighborhood with Hunnigan before sneaking away, promising Emily she'd be waiting for her at Shannon's house, that she had to go back and talk business with her. Emily had reluctantly agreed not to throw a fit, but she'd also said Helena wouldn't be getting any of her candy because she didn't deserve it after abandoning the mission.
Shannon was just about to light a cigarette when she saw the familiar black 1987 Pontiac Firebird drive up to the house. Cursing internally, she sighed and put her hands on her hips.
"What?" she spat when Helena walked up to the porch.
"Can I bum one of those?" the younger woman asked, pointing at Shannon's pack of Marlboro's.
"With the money you spent on gas just to drive up here you could've bought a pack of your own," Shannon said but tossed the cigarettes to Helena regardless.
"Nobody ever really quits," Helena said, inhaled the smoke and exhaled slowly. She hated to admit it, but she'd missed smoking.
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Even you're not stupid enough to think that I'd want to talk to you unless I have to, so... get lost," Shannon scoffed, put her cigarette out and went back inside.
"You have to talk to somebody!" Helena called out after her and for a fraction of a second, Shannon paused. Instead of slamming the door shut and locking it, she left it ajar behind her, and Helena smiled at the angry and subtle invitation.
After having smoked the cigarette she'd bummed, Helena entered the house and circled into the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Shannon.
"What the hell are you doing!" she exclaimed and snatched the needle from the other woman.
"I could ask you the same fucking thing!" Shannon frowned.
"For fuck's sake, I know things aren't exactly peachy, but drugs, seriously?" Helena hissed furiously and Shannon burst into laughter. Helena deadpanned at her reaction... and then a little more because she realized it was a genuine, hearty laugh; the kind Helena had never heard from Shannon before. She'd only ever received the sarcastic, mocking laughs.
"I appreciate your concern, but if you really want to help me, give me back my estrogen, dummy," Shannon said and held out her hand.
"Your..?"
"Obviously it's not drugs, for fuck's sake, who the hell would inject drugs into their thigh?" Shannon rolled her eyes and shook her hand impatiently, still expecting to have her property returned to her. Helena gave the needle back and Shannon sat back down and proceeded to finish taking the injection before pulling her jeans back up.
"I had no idea," Helena said slowly.
"Good, you're not supposed to have," Shannon scoffed, "The fuck are you staring at?"
"What I'm assuming is the result of some very expensive treatments, but actually I was trying to imagine you as a male, and I just can't picture it."
"Do I have to beat you again?" Shannon threatened and Helena chuckled.
"No, I don't think my ego could stand another round."
"Then stop being an annoying idiot and tell me what the hell are you doing here," Shannon said, stood up and went to pour herself a drink. She didn't offer Helena one and the younger woman was actually grateful for that, even though she was certain Shannon had done it just to be a bitch.
"I just wanted to ask how you're doing," Helena shrugged.
"I believe I've made it abundantly clear that I don't like you, so what makes you think I want to sit here, chit-chatting with you about how I'm doing?"
"Because you can hate me all you want, but the truth still is that I'm the one who understands you the best."
"I may not look like it, but I'm dying of laughter on the inside right now," Shannon commented and Helena sighed.
"I know what it actually feels like to lose practically everyone you love. You lost Ethan, Ingrid got hurt pretty badly, you're worried about Emily... I get it. But you haven't lost everything, and I'd hate to see you give it all up just because you refuse to talk about what's wrong to the point of becoming such a fucking bitch that everyone just walks away," she said and Shannon chuckled ruefully.
"And all I ever wanted was for you to walk away."
"Can't you just... seriously give me a chance? I know I've made mistakes, but I own up to that, and believe it or not, I've actually learned from them too."
"No, you've made an unforgivable amount of unforgivable mistakes, and I don't understand how or why Ingrid is still with you. I don't give a fuck about your personal growth; as far as I'm concerned, you're a screw-up and Ingrid could do better."
"I agree, she could, easily. But she could do a lot worse too, and you know that," Helena quirked an eyebrow. Shannon exhaled deeply. She hated to admit it, but Helena was right about that.
"You wanna know how I'm doing? Fine, I'll tell you. Emily's distanced herself from me and spends practically all of her free time with you and Ingrid. I miss Ethan. My friends don't know how to talk to me anymore because of what happened. My parents don't... well, as far my father's concerned, I've been dead for over a decade and my mother has to sneak around him if she wants to talk to me without him losing his shit over her having the audacity to speak to the abomination of the family, and on top of it all... my sister, the one and only person who's never turned her back on me, seems to be too busy trying to deal with the shit you stir to take five minutes to hang out with me. So I'm doing pretty fucking poorly. And I swear to God, if you say something stupid like how it'll get better, I'll shoot you right there," Shannon hissed, emptied her glass in a single gulp and slammed it onto the table then.
"I said I wanted to listen, not talk, I have no intention of saying anything," Helena shook her head slowly.
"What really hurts the most is realizing that nobody likes me best. Not my parents, not my friends, not even my own daughter," Shannon said through clenched teeth, angry tears rising to her eyes. Helena went to her and was about to hug her when Shannon stood up so quickly her chair fell over, and gripped the front of Helena's shirt.
"Keep your fuckin' hands-" she began to say.
"What the hell are you doing?" Hunnigan's outraged voice inquired from the entrance to the kitchen. Emily looked quite confused as well, a deep frown on her young features. Shannon froze.
"Practicing," Helena said, slipped her arms up and shoved Shannon's hands off of her, "And that's how you break free from a grip. There, basic self-defense," she acted, as if she needed to teach that to Shannon. Emily was convinced, which was enough for Shannon.
"Thanks, I'll remember that," she muttered and turned her attention to Emily, proceeding to check up on the girl and ask her how her round of trick or treating had gone. Judging from the way her bag was bulging, she'd brought back quite an impressive amount of loot.
"You were right, I apologize and I don't know why I didn't believe this would happen," Helena rolled her eyes at the obvious "I told you so"-look on Hunnigan's face.
"Well... it was still sweet of you to try. Now... come on, birthday girl, we've got to celebrate you turning quarter of a century," Hunnigan smiled and Helena chuckled softly.
"Even when you put it like that, I don't feel like an adult," she said and headed over to say good night to Emily before leaving.
The one thing Helena really wanted for her birthday was to spend some quality time with Hunnigan, just the two of them, and Hunnigan was happy to oblige. Ever since returning to duty, Helena had been deployed to several locations across the country to investigate leads and interview people. The deployments usually lasted a day or two at least, and when she finally got back home, it felt like she'd barely had a chance to say hello to Hunnigan before she was already packing a bag and getting ready to go again.
Tonight, Hunnigan had confiscated Helena's phone and switched hers off too, telling the F.O.S. agent covering for her to come get her personally if they absolutely needed her tonight. Besides, if things got bad enough, she'd notice something was up if she just looked out the window.
They lied on the couch, Helena spooning the other woman, gently stroking Hunnigan's abdomen with her fingers as the women continued their I love Lucy-marathon. Hunnigan smiled and hummed approvingly when Helena moved her hand in a long stroke and paused to caress the side of Hunnigan's thigh before running her hand over the other woman's buttock and then up her back, over to her side and thigh again, repeating the pattern slowly.
"Ingrid... Renée... Hunnigan," Helena said and leaned in to plant a series of gentle kisses onto the back of Hunnigan's neck, pausing her words inbetween the kisses.
"Am I in trouble? Because the only time anyone ever uses my whole name it's when I'm in trouble," Hunnigan teased. Helena chuckled but ignored the taunt.
"Will you marry me?" she asked.
"Do I have to say yes because it's your birthday?"
"Well, that is the tradition," Helena smirked.
"Why do you keep asking me that, why do you want to get married?" Hunnigan frowned and turned around to face Helena.
"Why does anyone want to get married?" she shrugged one shoulder.
"...to get out of having to testify against each other in court because things said between spouses is privileged?" Hunnigan offered and Helena rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm so fucking in love with you. Because I want you all to myself and I want it in writing. Because we've been to hell and back together already... and because, now that I think about it, Ingrid Renée Harper sounds so good that you were clearly meant to marry me."
"What makes you think I'd take your name?" Hunnigan scoffed amusedly.
"I can't very well take yours, Helena Kathryn Hunnigan just doesn't sound right," the younger woman explained and Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.
"And the idea of both of us just keeping our own last names even after marriage is somehow impossible for you to accept, I presume?" she inquired then and Helena gasped.
"Is that a yes?"
"I didn't say that..!"
"Well, could you?" Helena pouted and Hunnigan chuckled. She leaned to kiss the younger woman gently and Helena knew she wouldn't get an answer out of Hunnigan. Or that she wouldn't necessarily like the answer.
"I'll sleep on it," Hunnigan offered, her tone too light for her to have been serious about it.
"You do realize I will just keep asking until I wear you down and you say yes," Helena teased as Hunnigan turned to lie on her other side, facing away from Helena again and focusing on the show.
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Hunnigan chuckled softly.
"Why don't you want to get married?" Helena asked and Hunnigan sighed a little. She didn't really have a single reason for her hesitation or reluctance, it didn't exactly make sense. She already shared her bed, the household (and once, accidentally, her toothbrush), her entire life with Helena; the only thing that would change would be that it would get a little bit harder to just walk out.
Is that it, am I expecting to walk out? Hunnigan frowned as she thought about it. Realistically, that was and would always be a possibility, but at the same time, she couldn't think of anything that would cause her to seriously want to separate from Helena permanently. As she'd said, they had already been to hell and back, there were no more secrets between them. Nowadays the only things to fight about were the chores and the stupid arguments they tended to get into because Helena could get so jealous so easily, especially when they didn't have much time to spend just with each other. So no, that wasn't it.
"I'm..." Hunnigan began slowly as the answer became clearer, "...worried about what would come after."
"What do you mean?" Helena frowned.
"Well, isn't marriage, a house with the white picket fence and a couple of kids the way things usually go, and in that order? So, if we got married, the next thing I know, you're telling me you want the rest."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Helena grinned, her tone joking, but not quite convincing. Truth was, she had thought about it more than she dared to admit to Hunnigan, especially now that she was painfully aware of her reluctance.
"It wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but I don't know if... I just don't know. Is that what you want?" Hunnigan asked quietly, turning to look at Helena over her shoulder, and Helena cleared her throat a little. Yes, yes it was.
"Well, I mean... yeah, kind of," she said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. Hunnigan merely nodded a little, not commenting on the matter. Helena wasn't sure if it was good or bad that she didn't say anything.
"I, uhm... I don't want to you to feel like I'm putting pressure on you, that's not my intention, I'd just want to talk about it with you, seriously. And if you don't want it, then I'll leave it alone," Helena said awkwardly.
"How would that be fair for either one of us? If we can't agree on it, one of us is forced to do the opposite of what we want."
"Okay, look..." Helena began and sat up slowly. Hunnigan turned to lie on her back and rested her legs in Helena's lap as the younger woman reached to take her hand into her own and gently caressed her palm as she tried to find a way to word her thoughts.
"I always wanted kids at some point. I know I don't come across as she motherly type, quite the opposite if I'm honest, but... And you know I love Emily like she were my own, but it's not the same. I... I do want that, the whole nine yards, and I'd want it with you. I realize you don't feel the same way about it, but I was hoping we could at least talk about it."
"I haven't said a definite no to any of it, but I admit those things were never on my bucketlist."
"Yeah," Helena whispered, looking almost as disappointed as she felt. Hunnigan sat up and leaned closer to Helena, nuzzling into the side of her neck.
"Just... let me think about it, okay?" she said softly.
"You would do that?" Helena asked, genuinely surprised and Hunnigan smiled.
"Of course. But I'm telling you right now that if we do end up going the whole nine yeards, you will be the one who carries the baby."
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Helena chuckled.
"Oh, you say that now, but just you wait until the heart burn, the morning sickness, the bloating, the mood swings, and having to run in the bathroom every five seconds, and, oh, the fun part where you squeeze a tiny human being through your flesh and bone and it tears everything in its way," Hunnigan told the horror story that was the less glorified side of pregnancy and childbirth, and Helena silenced her with a soft kiss.
"The thought of an adorable tiny version of me running around would make it worth the effort alone," Helena quirked an eyebrow and Hunnigan deadpanned.
"Good Lord, I don't think the world could handle two of you."
"Hm, well, since it's unfortunately necessary to have to involve another person, namely the donor, in the process, I'm sure his contribution would dilute my awesomeness to levels the world could withstand," Helena smirked.
"Oh, yeah, trying to find a decent donor we both agree on would be fun for sure," Hunnigan drawled sarcastically.
"We could just ask Leon."
"He'd have a heart attack."
"Or, alternatively, we'd have a child who crashes anything he or she tries to drive."