Mexico City, Mexico, 2012 – Two months after the destruction of the Sanctuary
To any onlooker, he was a fashionable young man, American, for sure. A businessman, probably, judging by the expensive vanity box he was carrying around as he made his way through the streets at a hurried pace.
Truth be told, he was none of that – besides the fashionable part, obviously. He was the last of a race of fiercely intelligent parasites, heir to a fine lineage of rulers feared by humans. He was a genius, father of the radio, the death ray, the internet and so much more.
Right then though, he was above all a wanted man. A fugitive who badly needed a plan. A man with a heavy-heart and a stash of plasma that was getting lighter by the day.
He needed to leave, as soon as possible. According to his calculation, he had about twenty-four hours before the idiots at SCIU could trace his movement back to Mexico. And the last thing he needed was a messy bloodshed, thank you very much.
Nikola Tesla was a thoroughly organized man. Wherever he had sojourned over the years, he had always found a secured location to store about a month's worth of nutrition in the form of plasma serum, just in case. If he had sometimes thought it a tedious process, he was now glad to have done so. Gravitating around the Sanctuary had saved him the trouble of having to synthetize the serum himself, Helen Magnus being quite the host you'd hope for in this kind of situation.
But with Helen gone – he couldn't bring himself to think she was dead – and with no plan for the future, at least he didn't have to hunt for sustenance. The added bonus was that he could take some time to think and get over the whole explosion thingy while traveling around the world. It would not do in the long run, but it was good enough, at least for a little while.
He was depressed, really. What was the point in going forward with new ambitions and projects when he was the last of the Five? When Helen was unaccounted for, presumed dead, even. That was part of why he was hiding. From what he had gathered, the FBI thought that he had something to do with the fact that they hadn't found any corpse corresponding to Magnus in the rubbles of the Sanctuary. Had there been a body, he would have properly buried her somewhere nice, of course, he was a gentleman. But that was the catch: he had looked for her remains tirelessly, for hours. She simply wasn't there. And he couldn't play the part of the shattered friend in front of the dimwits working for the government. Not when he was clinging to the hope that she was alive somewhere, that she couldn't die without his guts reacting to her sudden absence, even from afar.
He walked around his block three times before he slipped into the apartment building, checking that no one was on his tail and that his lodgings were not under surveillance. When he was sure that nothing was suspicious, he made his way in.
The patio was quiet, and the neighbors probably out for a drink as it was dangerously close to midnight. He took a moment to enjoy the night air and empty his mind. It was hard to do so when his subconscious was doing his best to try and plague him with the memory of Helen's face seconds before the door had closed on her on that fateful night. What had her face been saying? It was useless to even try to find answers. Memory was a tricky thing.
Would it be obvious to flee to Bhallassam? The region was nice, the game plentiful, and James was still there, albeit drier than back in the days.
He was still thinking about his next move when he unlocked the front door to his temporary 'home'. He had barely turned the key in the lock when he heard something, or someone, move inside. It was faint, but definitely human in its movement.
The vampire froze. Well, that was annoying. He could turn back now and flee without his notebook – he was writing mainly for prosperity; his schematics were safely tucked inside of his brain anyway. But he would have hated to leave his best suit behind. That and his old and faithful corkscrew, following him since 1885.
On the other hand, leaving a body behind would ruin his perfect Air BNB reputation of being a meticulous tenant. Not that he actually used Air BNB, it goes without saying.
All was quiet inside now, and he took a few seconds to focus on his senses, and then a few seconds more to collect himself.
Helen.
The breathing pattern, the smell of her skin with a touch of source blood, the irregular beating of her heart as she was expecting to see him. She was there. Either that, or he was dreaming.
He took an additional few seconds for effect, delighting in the knowledge that she knew he knew and he wouldn't make it easier for her.
Then, and only then, he opened the door, left his case by the wall, closed behind him unhurriedly and switched the light on before he turned to her. Leaving the light off would have given them more intimacy, some safe space to let their emotions out without being too loud and obvious. But he found out that he didn't want that. He wanted transparency. And he was dying to see her. Properly see her.
She was standing in the living room, looking gorgeous as always and very much alive – definitely his type.
"How did you find me? Was it Heinrich? He's been incommunicado these past two weeks, I'm worried sick."
And the best introduction to a post-explosion conversation is most definitely not awarded to Nikola Tesla, he thought.
That was not how he had dreamt it would go, but someone had to speak first. And he was truly worried about Henry, and Erika. Not that he liked to let his feelings show, but he was fond of the young man, and his fiancée was not too bad herself.
She smiled reassuringly and it seemed to him that she was not in the slightest surprised that he'd be concerned about Henry. Well, having raised him, she was not without knowing that he was irresistible to anyone who had a heart. And the inventor was unfortunate enough to have one.
"Henry is fine. Thank you for taking care of him." She said softly.
He shrugged.
"He's a good kid."
The side of her mouth twitched. She was far too humble to take credit for her adopted employee's demeanor, but he saw she was still touched by the barely veiled compliment on his upbringing.
Silence fell between them, and she took a step closer to him, the air buzzing with anticipation.
"I'm sorry I've put you, all of you, through that." She said, her words flowing naturally from the bottom of her heart, a delight to Nikola's ears.
He raised an eyebrow.
"That?" He asked. "Oh, you mean… That." He went on, feigning to suddenly be hit by the realization that by 'that', she meant leaving them in the dark while her plan unfolded, then pushing them away, locking herself up in the basement and making the whole thing go boom while they watched it go up in flames and then letting them wonder where she was and, above all, how she was, for close to three months. The last time Nikola had heard of Henry, the young man had voiced his doubts that she might not even want to see him again. It was all preposterous, really, she loved him like she had loved Ashley, but even while talking him out of this silly idea, Nikola had been torturing himself with the same weapon. Although, contrarily to junior, he had plenty of time and a legendary stubbornness on his side. He would not let her shut him out.
"A tad too dramatic if you ask me." He whispered, pointing at himself. "But I guess you did what had to be done. Never bore your audience, right?" He concluded with a compassionate side smile.
She was now within hands reach, and she must have sensed he was itching to touch her as she took his dangling hand in hers and interlaced their fingers. Her hold was tight, letting him know she was there, not going anywhere, and she wouldn't let him escape the conversation before she deemed it was over.
"Am I being forgiven?" She asked, her face showing exaggerated doubt to hide what he felt was genuine fear of being forsaken.
He stretched his neck, making it crack loudly.
"I'm not so easily swayed."
He let his words settle in her mind, only an instant, not enough to leave a scar, but just enough to let her know he was hurt.
"I hope you brought a very nice bottle." He finished petulantly, caressing her thumb with his slowly.
That brought an easy smile to her lips and a glimmer of amusement to her eyes.
"Ah. I knew you'd say that, so I did choose the best one I have. But then I thought –" she tapped the tip of her nose with her index finger then, her eyes filled with mirth, "what if he takes the bottle and then tells me he doesn't want to follow me?" She paused, studying his face, and Nikola pouted.
"So, I left it back home. It's waiting for you." She finished with a proud smile.
He looked at her silently.
That was adorable. Helen Magnus, afraid that he, Nikola Tesla, would reject her and not follow her on a wild ride to God knows where.
"You're luring me with wine." He concluded, his tone reproachful.
"Hm hm." She assented, nodding.
He sighed.
"Gosh that's tough." He blurted.
Her smile faded, and when he saw her muscles clench in rejection, he pulled her by the hand to get her in his personal space.
"C'mon, Helen, I will follow you. Anywhere." He did not voice the fact that luring him was only an added bonus to him. He was ready to bet she knew that already.
"I do have one condition, nonetheless." He went on, pinning her with his gaze.
She licked her lower lip and exhaled loudly.
"Am I going to find it outrageously disproportionate?" She asked, peering at him, her question almost rhetorical. After all, they had known each other long enough to know his desiderata were never reasonable.
Not a rebuttal, Nikola noted. Her tone made it clear that she was not opposed to hearing his condition and was even intrigued.
"You wanna talk about disproportionate?" He asked calmly, raising an eyebrow and lowering his face towards hers dangerously, disentangling their fingers to free his hand, "What about the number of years you've kept me in the dark? That about covers the outrageous part, too." He spat with a shit-eating grin, his breath caressing her face as she refused to take a step back from his personal space.
She tilted her face to the side slightly, frowning.
"Giving you the full explanation while taking you on a tour was rather the point." She said, caressing his tie with the tip of her fingers. "We don't exactly have the time to delve into it here, do we?" She countered, gesturing towards the two neatly packed duffle bags stored on the kitchen island, next to an empty wine glass.
His gaze never left her face. He studied it, saw she was equally annoyed and apprehensive, and when her gaze crossed his once again, he dropped the bombshell:
"Vienna." Was the only word he uttered with assertiveness.
Her eyes widened slightly, just like they had when he had evoked Vienna in Springtime almost a year previous. But this time, there was no way he was letting her escape his scrutiny.
"Oh here we go." Helen moaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Not that he needed any confirmation about the reality of their little encounter in 1965. Her experience with time-travel had cleared up most of his doubts, quickly followed by her memorable reaction when he had brought up Vienna during their little adventure inside of her computer network.
"I hope you've noticed that despite how much this precise matter has troubled me over the years, I've let you off the hook quite easily since you reintegrated your timeline." He said proudly.
She smiled lightly.
"You have, actually. Do you want a gold star?" She joked.
Try all she might, Nikola was not going to fall into the temptation to laugh the subject off and to the side.
"There's no shapeshifter named Svenja Schädler waltzing around in a body shaped to look like yours." He said matter-of-factly.
He sensed she was about to take a step back, so he caught her elbow.
"Of course not." She confirmed, with the same tone a child would have used to tell another that Santa Claus did not exist.
"Which means that James was in on it from the start. That's a bold choice of accomplice, I'm vexed."
She huffed, closing her eyes for a second to collect herself before she answered.
"I wouldn't say bold, exactly. I'd say neither of us had a choice in the matter. I wasn't glad, but having dear James in on my secret did prove quite useful now and then." She explained.
She then shook her head and stared at Nikola in disbelief.
"But really, Nikola? The first thing that comes to your mind when you think about Vienna… is James' involvement in my predicament?" She wondered, not really trying to hide the sting she was feeling.
He bit the inside of his cheek. For a year, he had kept this conversation under his elbow, waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up. But now that the moment was right, he was realizing that maybe he would be the most ill-at-ease of the two. It would have been nice to simply rub into her face the fact that she had kissed him, willingly, passionately. Even if it had all been part of an intricate plan and she had been using him then, it was still a kiss, it would be used against her tirelessly to the sole purpose of making her blush and roll her eyes and he would still be glad because he secretly knew she felt something for him.
Yet, she had kissed him again, right before the explosion. And that had felt as much like a farewell as a promise.
And that was adding a new possibility.
A very tempting one.
One that he didn't want to see crushed under the heel of Helen's boot so soon.
"What I still don't get is: what was your plan?" He asked, his brain going around again through the puzzle he had tried to assemble for so long. "New York, at the dawn of the twentieth century, you came with questions and an idea behind your pretty head. You used me." He went on. "But Vienna? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems you didn't take anything from me." He finished.
Helen frowned, and she studied him for a few seconds in complete silence. Then it seemed that something clicked in her mind and her jaw dropped.
"My my…" She sighed. "And here I was, thinking you were a genius." She said in a soft voice.
He shrugged.
"Mock me all you want, I can't find any logical explanation."
She bit her lip, fighting back the broad smile which was threatening to bloom on her face, and her hands came up to his face, cradling his jaw with tenderness.
"That's because there was no logic involved." The brunette uttered.
He opened his mouth but she went on before he could ask more questions.
"Nikola… I had no plan. I didn't know you were in Vienna at the time. Otherwise, I would not have attended that inauguration. It tore my heart to see you there and at first… I wanted to leave." She explained. "But then I thought you would not attend the Science Ball, and I checked the table plan and was satisfied to see you wouldn't be there. Stupid of me, I know."
She breathed in deeply, and caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers, her touch soothing his insecurities.
"It was impulsive of me, but deep down, I wanted to see you. I had never felt so lonely, and I missed you sorely." She admitted.
His eyes opened wider, and hers shone in reaction to his awe.
"You were the only one able to understand how I felt. How frustrating it is to have to hide your true identity from the world." She explained.
He nodded, speechless.
"You gave me a full evening to be… Myself, in a way, even if I couldn't blow my cover." She concluded with a shy smile.
His face must have looked dumb, because she grinned at him, her hands roaming down to his neck, where his erratic heartbeats could be felt under her palms.
He cleared his throat.
"So when you…" He started.
He could have slapped himself when he heard his feeble voice.
She cut him.
"I kissed you because I was craving you." She confessed, her gaze going back and forth between his eyes and his lips. "As I am, right now."
She focused on his eyes again and he felt they were on the verge of something big. His guts clenched as she opened her mouth again.
"Because I love you." She concluded with an easy smile, her hands coming to rest on his chest.
She made it sound so simple whereas he had spent the last four years not so subtly trying to make her fall for him… But it suddenly clicked in his mind. He had courted her because of that kiss in Vienna. And she had kissed him in Vienna because of those four years of relentless flirt.
He grinned.
"You do." He realized.
His fingers used the belt loops on Helen's jeans to pull her against him, making her mirror his wolfish smile.
Their lips met, unhurriedly. Their kiss had nothing to do with the ones they had shared in Vienna. All the urgency they had felt back then was gone. They had all the time in the world now.
Nikola forgot all about the SCIU. All that mattered at that point was right there. Not exactly in his arms, he realized, and he had to correct that. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Better, he thought as he felt Helen smile against his lips. She was here, alive and well, and finally reciprocating his feelings.
Helen Magnus, always the most sensible of the two, broke the kiss after a while, when she was about sure that she had made her intentions clear to her old friend, and stared at him with a pointed look.
"Now, are we ready to leave this place or are you still not satisfied?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.
He raised an eyebrow.
"I could point to a certain area of my anatomy that's obviously not satisfied." He answered with a saucy grin and wiggling eyebrows.
She snorted, rolling her eyes, and tapped his chest, disentangling herself from his embrace.
"The sooner we're in the plane, the sooner we can take care of that." She concluded with an innocent smile.
The inventor was slightly taken aback by her sudden show of ribaldry. Years of one-sided suggestiveness had failed to prepare him for this moment, and he stood still as she quickly made her way to the kitchen, grabbed his duffle bags, surveyed the room for any item he would have forgotten to pack and came back to the door where Nikola was still frozen in shock.
"Chop-chop!" She urged, throwing one of the bags at him.
That shook him out of his trance, and he opened the door for her before grabbing his plasma filled vanity case to follow her out of the apartment.
"Is there a wine cellar where you're taking me?" He asked once he had locked the door and left the key under the mat.
"There is." She answered as she took the lead.
"As your significant other… Will I be granted full access to said cellar?" He wondered, studying her lower back as she walked through the patio.
She huffed.
"Not a chance." She asserted, without looking back.