Helena leaned back on the couch, settling to lay against Hunnigan who was seated at the end. Opposite to her was Leon, his arm around agent Harding's shoulders as she had pressed herself against his side. Helena wondered what exactly was the deal with him. She'd been under the impression Leon had feelings for Claire Redfield, but judging from the way he behaved, Helena was beginning to wonder just how serious he could be. Or maybe he just couldn't help himself from flirting even if he wouldn't act on it. Still, when Helena considered how she'd feel if she would witness Hunnigan behave the way Leon did with other women, even if she knew it wouldn't lead to anything, it wasn't a good feeling.
Don't make such comparisons, you don't know anything about their relationship, you don't know Claire, for all you know she's fine with it, Helena told herself mentally.
"Never have I ever been in jail or prison," Harding kicked off the drinking game Helena, Hunnigan, Leon, Nolan, and Hawke had agreed upon to quickly change the subject before the mood would be ruined during the previous conversation (which had threatened to turn from a friendly debate between Hunnigan and Nolan to a full blown argument over which platform to play video games on, of all things — she preferred PlayStation, he preferred a computer).
As the rules stated, Helena took a drink since she'd been in jail. When Leon gave her a questioning look, Helena told him to ask Skylark all about it, she was certain she'd dedicated an entire scrap book to articles from New York tabloids from the time when Helena had been accused of Good's murder. Before he had a chance to ask further questions, Hunnigan also took a drink.
"What did you do?" Leon and Helena asked in almost unison.
"Well, once upon a time there were two rogue agents who ran off to China after I provided them the opportunity to do so, and with amazing swiftness, a hearing was arranged and I was questioned about these agents' whereabouts, and I respectfully declined to answer because I believed that doing so would've endangered said agents' lives, and I was told that answering the question wasn't optional, so I was held in contempt of congress and was jailed for that," Hunnigan explained.
"You never told me that," Helena commented.
"It was hardly worth mentioning, like any independent woman would do, I called my mommy for help, and I only spent about three hours in jail," Hunnigan said.
"You called your mom? Who is she, Judge Judy?" Leon laughed.
"Mom's net worth is actually about a hundred million more than Judge Judy's," Nolan interjected.
"She's probably the best criminal defense attorney in the country, nobody needs someone as good as my mom as much as the important people do, and when important people owe you favors, shit gets done," Hunnigan answered Leon's question.
"Can I call her if I get in trouble?" he asked, his question causing Hunnigan and Nolan to laugh a bit, their reaction earning a quirked eyebrow from Leon.
"Sure, the last time I checked you just need a fifty thousand dollar retainer, and anything beyond that is two hundred and fifty bucks an hour for her telling you she wishes to God you'd use your right to remain silent," Hunnigan smirked.
"I refuse to believe anyone is good enough a lawyer to justify that kind of amount, so I think I'll just keep calling you when I get in trouble," Leon smirked, and Helena had to give him credit for using the word "when" instead of "if" because it was honest, and it was good of him to be aware of the inevitability of trouble finding him.
"Well, I'm not a lawyer, but I have seen every episode of Matlock, so I guess I'll do if it's an emergency," Hunnigan laughed.
"Hunnigan going to jail to protect you is kinda romantic. I mean, if you remove Leon from the scenario," Harding then commented to Helena.
"Oh, just, remove me, casually, just like that, and the story has the makings of a best selling romance novel? I'm hurt," Leon pouted into his glass of bourbon.
"No, Harding's right, it makes perfect sense because when you put Helena and Hunnigan together, you get a relationship that never had a chance of being casual. There's so much possessiveness and intense feelings that it's all just very..." Hawke began and when she couldn't find a verbal way to describe just how much intensity she was talking about, she relayed the emotion by clenching her teeth and fists, tensing up, and making a loud grunt.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Helena inquired, and Hawke sighed.
"Okay, I worded it in a way that probably made it sound like a bad thing, but it's not necessarily; unless something becomes a huge problem between the two of you, we're talking about the most powerful and enduring kind of love here," Hawke said, paused to take a drink and continued then: "I do feel I should mention that the strong Venus-moon-combination in your chart is probably gonna make you want to have, like, five hundred babies."
"Eehh..." Helena shrugged awkwardly.
"Or, cats, we could get cats," Hunnigan suggested half-heartedly.
"Sure, just something to love and nurture. Or, maybe you'll just be wealthy and have a lot of nice things, it could really be just that, too, it's not entirely specific" Hawke chuckled.
"Wait, what chart, what are you talking about?" Leon asked.
"Astrology, my dude."
"You got all that from astrology?" it was Harding's turn to question, and Hawke nodded again.
"I don't know, sounds to me like the kind of stuff you'd hear from so-called psychics. Ramble on long enough using broad enough generalizations and you're bound to say something the other person wanted to hear," Leon said.
"And just for that I will not offer you any insight to your personality...other than tell you that you're so quick to put everyone else's needs ahead of your own is because you're very insecure thanks to your distant mother who was never emotionally supportive, so you think the only way you matter is through self-sacrifice," Hawke said nonchalantly, the rapidly changing expressions on Leon's face ranging from amused to annoyed to embarrassed as he listened, the "face journey" implying Hawke had indeed managed to say something that got under his skin...which kind of also proved Leon's point about making generalizations; the odds were someone his age had parents who were born in the fifties or earlier, meaning they weren't necessarily the touchy-feely-let's talk about our emotions-types.
Unless they were hippies, but judging from Leon's reaction to Hawke's remark that wasn't the case as far as he was concerned. Add to that his womanizing tendencies and the general way he acted around women, he had to have some kind of mommy-issues, you didn't need astrology or a degree in psychology to be able to tell as much.
"Oh, and, Hunnigan, that reminds me, you're one of those people one either like or don't, there is no middle ground, but that it goes both ways, because you're also a person who either likes someone or doesn't, and if you don't like someone...you can be cold and indifferent toward them."
"Gee, thanks, that's really nice of you to say," Hunnigan smirked sarcastically, but Helena was inclined to agree with Hawke, actually. Certainly explained partly why Skylark and Hunnigan had never gotten along, even before Skylark had chosen to pick on Hunnigan over her relationship with Helena.
"My point is that when someone pisses you off, you will fucking well let them know they've pissed you off, because you will fucking fight them, but you're not the type to hold grudges," Hawke continued lecturing, turning her attention to Helena then.
"Which is why, Helena, it's important that you remember...she will tear you a new one, but she will also love you like nothing ever happened ten seconds later, and it can get difficult to deal with that kind of love-and-hate-extremes."
"I don't think we've ever actually really fought," Hunnigan mused, and thinking about it now, Helena had to agree. They'd had words, minor arguments, but never anything that she would've counted as an actual fight. It was rather remarkable, and a little bit terrifying because it had to happen eventually, and after such a long good streak, the inevitable bad would certainly be absolutely devastating.
"Well that's not good either when we're talking about a person who is incapable of understanding love without the hate, namely, you," Hawke said as if to confirm Helena's worry.
"Oh my God, she's right, you divorced Major because you two didn't fight," Helena then gasped in exaggerated horror, and Hunnigan rolled her eyes.
"See what you've started?" Hunnigan sighed at Hawke, who laughed.
"So, wait, wait..." Nolan spoke up. "Since Ingrid and I have the same birthday, wouldn't all this apply to my relationship with Helena as well?" he asked, glanced at Helena and wiggled an eyebrow.
"Well...I mean...technically..." Hawke drawled, clearly not wanting to answer that.
"So, their relationship is straight out of a good romance novel, someone should write it!" Harding said, saving Hawke from having to finish her sentence.
"Never have I ever read a good romance novel, or even heard of one existing," Nolan then said, and Helena took a drink.
"You read romance novels?" Harding's eyebrows rose.
"I do," Helena nodded.
"Who even are you? I don't know you at all anymore," Leon frowned, and Helena laughed at that a little.
It was kind of funny to her that he seemed to believe he knew a lot about her when in reality, she'd shared very little and hadn't even spent that much time with Leon outside of Tall Oaks and what followed that, and then sharing a drink or ten with him a couple of times. She considered him a friend, but it was still rather superficial.
"Helena Harper, just like I always was," she smirked.
"You kept your last name, I don't get to call you Hunnigan too?" Leon asked. "Or, Hunnigan two, hah!" he added, laughing at his own pun, holding up two fingers to indicate the change of spelling he intended.
"No, and you shouldn't call me that either seeing as it's my ex-husband's name, not mine," Hunnigan chuckled.
"I leave for a little while and everything's changed, I don't like this at all. I don't even know your maiden name," he wailed and drank his glass empty.
"It's Del Rey."
"With a name like that, why would you ever go to Hunnigan?" Leon then frowned.
"To annoy my mom, of course. You know me, I'm a rebel."
"I'm gonna go have a smoke and walk Charlie," Helena announced then upon noticing Charlie move from the spot he'd been napping at by the window to sit in front of the door leading outside, this being his familiar way of letting Helena know he needed to go.
"You should quit smoking!" Hunnigan called out after her.
"Make me," Helena smirked over her shoulder and went to grab the leash to put on Charlie.
"I'll go with you," Hawke said and got up as well.
"I didn't know you smoke," Helena commented as they headed outside.
"I don't, I just wanted some air, I don't think I look it, but I'm getting fucking wasted," Hawke laughed.
"Yeah, you never do look like it, you just kind of keep going and out of the blue, your battery runs out," Helena nodded, pushed the door to the building open and stepped outside behind Charlie.
"When's the last time we got wasted together?"
"Must've been back at Jane's bar..." Helena mumbled.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to...I mean, I know things went to hell with her, and she was your friend and all."
"It is what it is," Helena shrugged one shoulder.
Truth be told, she hadn't thought about Jane, or Maxima, or even Deborah in a long while. Not actively. There were times when she randomly remembered they were gone, or was reminded of them by something she associated with them, but the memories no longer devastated her the way they had before. Occasionally, she felt guilty for not dwelling on the sadness longer, which was a weird thing to process because intellectually she knew that being depressed over lost loved ones wouldn't make them come back or make them somehow feel better remembered and appreciated. Emotionally, she felt bad for not feeling bad enough.
"So, how's...stuff? Have you decided what kinda doctor you're gonna be when you grow up?" Hawke asked, and Helena chuckled, shaking her head a little.
"Not a doctor," she said and lit a cigarette. "The thing about being a doctor is there's a chance you gotta give your patients bad news, and I honestly don't think my mental health could handle that, you know. I can't go from 'sorry, you have two months to live' to meeting another patient ten seconds later and listening to them tell me they Googled their symptoms so they're certain they are suffering from Stoneman Syndrome despite the obvious answer to their problem being something simple like dehydration."
"I wonder if that's why the wait is sometimes so long; every time I've had an appointment with a doctor, they're at least ten minutes late, maybe they were crying in the bathroom," Hawke gasped when she considered the possibility. Helena doubted that was the reason, but then again, who knew, perhaps it could be true.
"Who can say?" she shrugged. "I had quite enough of losing patients back in Afghanistan. I mean, it wasn't always even my fault, I didn't dictate the R.O.E., but in a lot of ways, that felt even worse."
"Right, right. What's R.O.E. mean?" Hawke frowned, and Helena narrowed her eyes at the other woman.
"You told me you were in the Navy, and you don't know what R.O.E. stands for?"
"Yeah, well, I mean, it's probably not the same for Navy and Army," Hawke stuttered, and Helena grinned a little.
"I'm pretty sure the acronym for 'rules of engagement' is the same regardless of the branch," she said, and Hawke sighed.
"All right, all right. I was never in the Navy," she finally admitted.
"Shocking," Helena said in a flat tone.
Hunnigan had already told her as much, but Helena hadn't let Hawke know she was aware of this, she didn't think it was necessarily for Helena to know, and she didn't want to sow any seeds of mistrust between Hunnigan and Hawke by letting her know Hunnigan had spilled the beans.
"I was smuggled into the country by my uncle who worked with the Irish mob, which doesn't actually exist if anyone asks. After I was here, I had to work off my debt to the smugglers, so I spent about a year as the person who goes around with a tire iron to collect money owed from reluctant business partners."
"Tire iron? How uncouth."
"It was a bit more subtle than that, but you get the picture. Then the Feds flipped me and I spent a little while being a federal asset before my cover got blown and I got shot, was presumed dead, and then Hunnigan recruited me for the DSO. So, there's my real story, sounds more exciting and glamorous than it was," Hawke condensed her history into a few sentences.
"What about your family, did you make up that part too?"
"Kinda. My little sister and I aren't exactly on speaking terms, she's back in England, she works for the Secret Intelligence Service, more commonly known as MI6."
"She's a spy?" Helena's eyebrows rose and Hawke laughed.
"Nah, she's a call desk analyst, which is a fancy way of saying she works at tech support. But yeah, we don't really talk much. Last time I saw her was a mom's funeral a few years back. Aaanyway...You were saying you lost patients because of the rules of engagement, what does that mean?"
"Oh, well, sometimes we'd get a call about injured people but the rules of engagement dictate that we're not allowed to help unless we caused the injury. So if a kid blew his arm off because he was playing catch with a grenade he found lying around, not our problem. If a kid got his arm blown off by a U.S. soldier, our problem."
"Well, that's harsh but I guess it makes sense."
It did, especially when considering that there were times when the people who were brought in had been wearing explosives and had never needed medical attention, their intent solely to just bomb the hospital. But understanding why didn't make it less painful and annoying to have to deal with when all you wanted to do was to—
—help, that's why I'm here, let me— I don't care, you can shoot me after, just let me help her!
Helena shuddered and inhaled sharply when the voice of Maxima Ibsen resounded clearly in her head as the memory of her pleading with the village elder to be allowed in to help a young woman who had been stabbed in the head passed her mind. Maxima had been denied access, Helena didn't know what had happened to the injured woman.
Charlie stopped, looked up at her and whined, and Hawke put her hand on Helena's shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I guess Donald Duck just walked over my grave."
"What does that even mean?" Hawke scoffed amusedly.
"I don't know, I read it in a book once," Helena chuckled. They walked in silence for a few moments until Hawke spoke again.
"All right, so you're not gonna be a doctor, what will you be then? Have you decided for sure?"
"A nurse midwife," Helena elaborated with a nod, "provided I manage getting through all the schooling that's necessary."
School had actually been going rather well, contrary to how it had been growing up, she was actually enjoying going to class. Hunnigan had been a huge help all the way from assisting Helena in figuring out how to even apply to helping out by re-writing the lyrics to songs that got stuck in Helena's head so that she could use them as a mnemonic device.
Once Charlie was done with his business, they headed back inside where Leon just finished saying something about how easy playing the guitar was.
"Oh, this'll be good, Hunnigan does her best work when she's being spiteful," Helena grinned, unleashed Charlie and went into the living room. Leon was holding Hunnigan's guitar and began to play the opening tune of Metallica's "Nothing else matters", and even though Helena was anything but a musician, even she had by now learned why Hunnigan and Nolan immediately exchanged a look and groaned in unison at Leon's song choice.
Well, at least it's not "Wonderwall", Helena mused internally. They let Leon have his moment, though it seemed that the only person who was even mildly impressed by Leon's ability to play one song was agent Harding, and even that was probably only because she thought Leon was cool long before he played the song (and despite him playing the song).
"Oof, I don't know if I want to try and follow that," Hunnigan smirked as Leon handed the guitar to her.
She held the guitar's neck in an overhand grip, tapping the fingers of her left hand on the strings to a beat and a tune while pressing down on the thin E-string with the index finger of her right hand. She used her middle finger and her ring finger to pick the string, sliding her index finger up and down along the neck, playing the iconic melody of "Misirlou" on the single string, the speed of her fingertips flicking over the string creating that surf-guitar sound. Once it was time for the part where the trumpet solo would've been, she played the chords, thumping her wrist against the guitar's body and knocking on it as she strummed to emphasize the beat of the song.
"Yeah, well...I didn't have time to practice," Leon mumbled after Hunnigan finished playing the song.
"Yeah, no, I get it, practice is essential," Hunnigan nodded with a smile.
"Okay, okay, I have two very important questions!" Hawke raised her hand. "Number one: does that finger-flicking-thing you were doing work on women?" she asked, earning uncomfortable groans from everyone except Hunnigan, whose response was a hearty laugh.
"I—I would like to know that too," Leon spoke up.
"Depends on the woman," Hunnigan said innocently, and Helena escaped to the kitchen to mix herself another drink before anyone would notice her very telling blush.
There were times when she didn't know how to react to the fact that Hunnigan was actually on the receiving end of comments like that rather frequently thanks to her online presence.
While her following wasn't huge, it was enough to contain quite a lot of people who were quick to make absolutely everything into something suggestive or lewd even. Just recently the comment section of Hunnigan's latest video had been overtaken by creeps making sexual comments about Hunnigan's tongue because she had run her tongue over her chipped tooth, and that little moment had gotten everyone's attention. Literally less than three seconds of footage, the tip of her tongue barely visible as she'd poked her tooth with it, and everyone lost their minds it seemed. It was insane.
She knew Hunnigan didn't pay attention to such things, she probably had no idea of what was being said in the comments (unless Nolan had pointed it out to her), because she genuinely didn't read them anymore, hadn't for years now. Helena had tried to stop reading them herself because ignorance truly was bliss, and she didn't want to go down the same road Major had gone, getting upset over the things some creeps and trolls were saying about her wife. Most of the things being said were nice, though, but as was always the case, the unpleasant things stuck in the brain the hardest.
"Question number two: if Helena becomes a nurse-midwife...a job that includes getting up close and personal with other women's vaginas as far as I know...will you get jealous?" Hawke asked and Helena sighed, then poured another splash of rum into her cola to strengthen the drink, deciding that if she was to get through this evening without cringing herself to death she'd need to get wasted.
"No, I won't get jealous unless she starts giving out gynecological exams recreationally," Hunnigan responded, and Helena laughed. God, she loved that woman.
The rest of the evening had been spent drinking and talking, Nolan taking the time to teach Leon the "rockstar pose" and the accompanying hip movements, an image which Helena was certain would haunt her mind for the rest of her life. After that, Hawke and Harding had taken it upon themselves to craft a pair of relatively fancy bridal veils from toilet paper and garbage bag, given them to Helena and Hunnigan to wear, and performed a mock wedding ceremony with Leon giving Helena away as Harding officiated and Nolan took pictures. All in all, it had been a very nice get-together, certainly more fun and intimate than a huge expensive wedding would've been.
After everyone had gone home, and after performing their usual evening routines, Helena settled to lay next to Hunnigan, moving to rest her head on Hunnigan's shoulder as Hunnigan put her arm around Helena and kissed the top of her head.
"I think I'm gonna accept Shepard's offer and take the job," Hunnigan then said.
"Yeah?"
"Well, I'm still somewhat suspicious, the job could be a ticking time bomb Shepard is offering it to me just so it won't be in his hands when it blows...but I could be wrong. And honestly, I don't think if I'd even know how to work anywhere else anymore, the DSO is such a big part of who I am."
"Whatever you decide to do, I'm with you," Helena said softly.
"I'm gonna accept. It comes with a bit of a pay raise too, I figure we're gonna need the extra money if we intend to provide a comfortable life for those five hundred babies we're gonna have," Hunnigan chuckled.
"I thought we were getting cats. I was already coming up with funny names for them. If we get a three-legged one we could name it Tripod. And a white cat could be Snow Bite."
"As funny as those are, I don't want to clean up that many litter boxes. Children learn to clean up after themselves eventually."
"I bet you can train a cat to use a toilet."
"True, but do we really want to be the couple that potty trains cats?"
"Fair point," Helena laughed. She sought out Hunnigan's hand and slipped her fingers between Hunnigan's, taking a firm hold of her hand, reaching to nuzzle the side of Hunnigan's neck.
"I love you, Ingrid, and I can't tell you how happy I am that we met. I can't imagine my life without you," she whispered.
"I love you too, and I feel the same way."
"What did you think of Hawke's little analysis, do you think the stars and planets aligned the way they did just for us?" Helena then asked, her smile audible in her voice, and Hunnigan laughed a little, because it was a bit of a silly question to ask from her of all people; she was probably the last person on Earth to believe in such things. However, her reply (which was delivered with a healthy dose of good-hearted disbelieving mirth) did surprise Helena.
"I suppose anything's possible, and it is comforting to know that our love was apparently written in the stars."