Author's notes:
Max and Helen are my absolute favorite tv couple right now! This fic mostly takes place the morning after Helen slams the door, with a little flashback to what's happening behind the door. Italics are flashbacks, then internal monologue. There aren't enough "morning after" fics, so I decided to write my own!
I'm assuming Georgia's parents backed down from the custody case after Max said they'd never see Luna again if/when he won. Helen would have been aware of this too, since she was only in London the last week, I believe.
The sound of traffic and sunlight cascading through her floor-to-ceiling glass window panes gently rouse Helen from a deep slumber. After giving her limbs a gentle stretch, she checks her phone that resides on her bedside table; it was 5:53 am. Still being accustomed to the London time zone, her body wakes up earlier than she would have liked, given her present company. She was grateful that she had the day off work, this day originally meant for her flight back home.
Slowly, sore from last night's activities, Helen rolls over to look at the man in bed next to her. Max is facing her, still sound asleep. The sun creates a broad-shouldered silhouette, and passes through his hair, giving it a golden tint. She has a sudden desire to run her fingers through his shaggy mane, but doesn't want to wake him. He is still and peaceful, a contrast from his usual animated gestures and expressive gazes.
Helen recalls the previous night.
After kissing until both parties are out of breath, Helen places her hands on Max's shoulders, his hands on her waist, foreheads touching.
"Max… how... wh… what happened?" Her brain has trouble forming a complete sentence, dizzy from lack of oxygen.
"Umm, I just kissed you. You were there," he teases, earning him a playful punch on the shoulder.
"I mean, what changed your mind?"
Max takes her right hand in his left, his on top, and lifts them so they're almost at eye level. Helen immediately looks at his ring finger, noticing the line that is slightly paler than the rest. Jaw nearly dropping, her eyes go to his, searching for an answer.
"I took off the ring. I'm sorry I was such an idiot earlier. I was holding onto it because I was too focused on the past. But I just want to be with you, Helen. I'm all in," whispering the last sentence almost too low to hear.
Helen pulls his neck downward so their foreheads touch, hoping that gives him enough confirmation to resume kissing.
He looks back and forth between her eyes and lips, then returns his hands to her waist as he starts gently sucking on her earlobe. His hands slowly lower downward across her curves while he moves his lips to her neck, peppering kisses all over. Already weak in the knees, she feels something hard rub up against her thigh.
Helen's eyes shoot open, unaware when she had closed them, knowing where this is headed. "Max, we don't have to… tonight, if you're not ready."
He raises his head just enough to look at her, pupils already enlarged with desire. "I meant what I said in my voicemail, Helen. I need to be with you… in all the ways that I've been dreaming of. I… I love you."
That was all she needed to hear. She lets go of her inhibitions, both of them finally giving in to their long-suppressed desires.
"Luna?" She barely manages to breathe out between gasps.
"Grandparents," he mumbles against her chest, not wanting to lose contact.
"Upstairs. Now," she demands as they stagger towards the stairs together.
Smiling at the scene that played in her head, Helen carefully gets out of bed to find something to wear, noticing she's still naked. Her foot lands on Max's shirt that she had torn off him the previous night. Bringing it up to her face, she gives it a deep inhale, comforted by the scent of his cedar cologne she had spent too long away from. Normally, Helen wouldn't do anything this stereotypical, but she pulls it over her head, not ready to part with it just yet. It barely reaches her upper thighs.
After finding and putting on a clean pair of underwear, Helen uses the bathroom, washes her hands, and sees herself in the mirror. She looks exhausted, but her eyes are radiant with happiness. Suddenly, doubts start to creep into her mind. Will the universe, as Floyd put it, finally let us be together? How will this affect our work dynamic? He knows I want a child, what if he doesn't want any more? Wow, Helen, too early to be thinking about that. She shakes her head to rid herself of the intruding thoughts and slowly sneaks back into the bedroom to find Max propped up on his right arm, his left outstretched to Helen's empty side of the bed. The confusion in his face turns into relief, then joy.
"I wasn't sure where you went," he started, voice a little raspy from sleep. "But it's not like you would have left, this being your house and all," he chuckles, head tilted with a smile plastered on his face. He looks her up and down, then says "You look good in my shirt, by the way. Bloody magnificent!" he finishes in a bad British accent, causing Helen to roll her eyes and look down.
Max squints, analyzing her expression. He pats the bed for her to rejoin him. Crawling back into the warmth of the covers, Helen lays down and wraps her arms around his torso, head under his chin, wanting to feel as close to him as she can. Tears start prickling the edges of her eyes, thankful for the privacy their position gave her.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Max inquires as he wraps his arms around her tighter. How does he read me so well? Helen sniffs slightly, and lets out a shudder against him. Max lifts her chin so their eyes meet, gently encouraging her to open up with a single look and two simple words. "Burden me."
Helen, feeling emotionally raw from the events of the past 24 hours, has difficulty staring back, and opts to gaze at his chest instead. "I can't help but think, is this thing between us going to last? Every chance we get at happiness seems to be derailed." She places one hand on his chest and starts caressing him, remembering how just weeks ago, she was so close to losing the person who mattered to her the most. The moments in the decon shower were the most physically intimate she had been with Max. She was almost certain she heard him say those three little words while he collapsed with his arms tightening around her waist, clinging to her like a lifeline. Feelings of elation bubbled in her chest, but overwhelmed by terror and helplessness.
A tear escapes her eye at the memory, and Max brushes it away with his thumb. He kisses Helen on the forehead, then draws her in for another embrace. He lets out a long sigh, then begins, "I've thought about that too. We've both suffered through so much, and fought to get where we are. Now that we're finally together," Helen smiles, hearing him say that out loud, "I feel like I'm waiting for something bad to happen."
Not exactly what Helen was hoping to hear.
Max adjusts them so that they are both facing each other. "But we can't let that keep us from enjoying what we have. And believe me, I thoroughly enjoyed last night," he confesses with a smirk.
Helen laces her right hand with his left, eyeing his ring finger. As if he knows her thoughts, Max tells her, "Georgia will always hold a place in my heart, just as Mohammed will in yours. But Georgia is my past. They would want us to embrace the present. They would understand."
Max takes their entwined hands and places them on the left side of his chest. "You have my heart now, Helen. Always have, really." He hesitates, trying to find the right words. "I think that's why it took me so long to take off the ring. I didn't know in what way, but I loved you while Georgia was still alive, so my feelings for you were mixed with guilt. But she wouldn't want me to feel that way forever. She would want me… us... to be happy."
Feeling a little more at ease, Helen uttered softly, "Thank you, Max. I've never had anybody I could truly be myself around, except for Mohammed. Ever since he passed, I've struggled with opening up completely in my relationships." She brings her right hand up and cradles his face. "Until I met you. From the start, you have opened up my heart in ways I couldn't with anyone else." Max looks at her intensely, waiting for the next words. "I love you, Max."
A giant grin forms on Max's face, finally hearing the words he longed for, and presses a kiss to her palm.
"Not that either of us would have acted on it, but I loved you too, before the crash," she closes her eyes at the thought, "so I felt guilty as well, after... Georgia… I still feel guilty sometimes, when you talk about her."
Max's face becomes heavy with sadness. "I'm sorry," he exhaled, sounding defeated.
"Hey, hey, it's alright," Helen whispered, finally running her fingers through his hair in an attempt to comfort him.
She resumes, "I don't think I fully accepted how much I loved you until Castro demanded half of my department in order to continue your cancer treatment. I remember realizing I would do anything for you. Still would."
"Same here," Max chimes in, his spark returning.
Gazing into his eyes with adoration, Helen concludes, "Thank you for comforting me. Whenever you need me, I am here for you. Always."
She waits for a response. For once, Max is at a loss for words, so he kisses Helen, pulling her on top of him, their bodies warm and fitting together like a puzzle. His hands slide down to her waist again and up her, well, his, shirt. He begins lightly dragging his fingers all around, and Helen, a little ticklish, lets out a giggle. She adjusts herself to straddle one of his legs. Max must have put his boxers back on last night, but Helen can already feel the bulge tightening through the fabric. Grabbing the sides of his head, her teeth give a gentle tug on his bottom lip, and a noise that sounds like a growl comes from her partner.
Max freezes momentarily, and Helen gives him a questioning look. "I just remembered," he starts,"I didn't eat dinner last night, since you came home early." Helen now understands that it was his stomach growling, not his excitement. "Well, I did feast on one thing, quite ravishing, I might add" he whispers low as he wiggles his eyebrows and bites his lower lip.
"Naughty!" Helen squeals in amusement as she playfully shoves his shoulder. The reminder of his sexy beard pleasantly scratching all her sensitive spots causes shivers to run up her spine.
With nervousness in his voice, Max asks, "At the risk of being a little cliche, would you like to go on a… on a date with me? Like right now? Breakfast, naturally, with coffee. Or tea if you prefer. You Brits like tea, right?" he rambles on, knowing he's talking too fast.
Helen smiles and savors the fact that she can still make him act like a school boy with a crush. She places a hand on his chest to stop him. "Max!" He goes silent. "I would love to," she states, the word already feeling more comfortable on her lips.