I'm sorry it's taken so long to update this fic. All I can say is that writing is hard. This chapter was originally meant to be about double the length I'm currently posting but when it became so long, I decided to split it into two separate chapters. It has two distinct parts anyway as you'll come to see if I ever finish the second part. I intended to post them together but the second part is still not coming together as I would like and I'm to the point that I just need to let this first part go so I can stop fussing over it and focus on the next chapter. This is still the slowest of slow-burns. To those of you that have left comments, messaged me and have continued to reread this story during this long hiatus for an update, I've appreciated your encouraging words so much. Thank you.

It's dark when Myka startles from sleep, much too hot and much too…aroused. She feels Helena's hot breath against her neck, breathing deeply in sleep and the sensation does nothing to alleviate the arousal she feels. Had it really only been a dream? She can hear Helena breathing quietly, her all too warm body draped partially over Myka. Helena's hand rests along her ribs, her fingers precariously close to one breast. If either of them shifts, those fingers will be touching her intimately. Myka stifles a groan at the thought, her body strumming from the erotic dream she just woke from and the fact that the star of her dream is using her for a human pillow. Myka has to get up from the bed, get away so that the feel of Helena pressed against her, so that the soft scent of her doesn't drive her to distraction and make a fool of herself.

Getting up from under Helena proves to be a challenge. If things weren't so serious, if Myka didn't absolutely need to get away, she'd enjoy holding Helena to her as she slept, waiting for the first rays of light to shine through the window, and as Helena blinks her eyes open, tease her about her proclivity to cuddle this time. But Myka can't do any of that now, not with the dream of Helena, of them, moving heatedly together with intent still lingering in her mind.

She carefully lifts Helena's hand from her ribs, gasping when that hand still manages to graze the underside of her breast and the need to move away from the bed becomes increasingly urgent. Helena's leg rests over one of hers and Myka takes great care to slowly move her leg out from under Helena's. Finally, Helena rolls over more to her side of the bed and Myka breaks free, stumbling from the bed, every nerve in her body hyper aware of Helena sleeping peacefully.

The room is still mostly dark this early in the morning and Myka doesn't dare risk turning on a light, instead feeling her way across the room to her dresser and quietly pulling clothes from the drawer. She has no idea what clothes she picks up but anything so long as she's clothed enough to escape the apartment will do. A quick jaunt to the bathroom reveals she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a ragged t-shirt she sometimes sleeps in, or at least used to before sharing a bed with Helena. The shirt is threadbare with a small hole near the hem, perfect for an early morning run.

She quietly exits the bathroom, watching for any sign of movement from Helena. There isn't any, Helena is still asleep and Myka tiptoes across the room to grab her running shoes and a sweatshirt from the closet. She breathes a sigh of relief when she makes it out of the apartment and regrets feeling that way.

She blames their discussion last night. It had to be the questions about sex - and sexual preferences and fantasies - that brought about the dream. And oh god that dream had been so much. Even now, Myka can feel Helena's body against hers the heat between them as they moved together. She can imagine feeling the softness of Helena's skin against hers, the feel of Helena's fingertips as they traced her body, the way her kisses felt, hot and wet, her tongue along her neck, following up to the curve of her jaw. The way Helena kissed every bare inch of Myka was too much to withstand. It was fortunate she awoke when she did or who knows what she would have done. Would she have moaned or called Helena's name managing to wake Helena in the process? The very thought of the awkward conversation that would have likely ensued sets Myka's heart racing.

She needs a distraction, that's why she's up now, ready to run at nearly six o'clock on a Sunday morning. The street is empty and the sky dark when she begins to steadily run. She only remembered to grab her keys and phone on the way out, forgetting ear buds without which she can't listen to music while running and further help distract her from the images and sounds of her dream. And it wasn't just the way she felt that quickens her heart, but the way Helena responded to her touch. The way her back arched just so and the tightness of her grasp around Myka's shoulders as if needing a tether. Helena in her dream as she came undone was beyond beautiful. She was ethereal. Myka can only imagine how beautiful Helena is in reality under those same circumstances. It's an image she desperately wants to see and experience firsthand but which she knows is not likely to happen for her if Helena doesn't feel the same.

Her sneakers pound a steady rhythm on the pavement as she runs. She can feel herself working up a sweat, her lungs beginning to burn from the cold air and exertion. And still the vision of Helena in her dream and the want she feels drives her to push harder, to run faster. As though by running faster and further she can somehow dispel the dream and desire.

Helena stirs awake, feeling a dull throbbing between her legs, no doubt a result of the dream she's just woken from. A dream about Myka writhing in pleasure beneath her. She still feels the heat of that dream on her skin. She turns slowly in bed, hoping not to wake Myka but is startled to realize Myka isn't there. "Myka?" she calls out to the darkened room receiving no answer. She listens quietly for a moment, deciding that Myka not only isn't in bed, but unable to hear any sound, determines she's also not in the apartment.

A hand rests at her breast as she tries to quell her racing heart. The dream had been quite vivid and they had been in a state of undress and passion. Although curious to where Myka has gone so early on a Sunday morning, Helena is somewhat relieved to know Myka's not in the vicinity at the moment. She's almost certain she had moaned during her dream and to have Myka hear that would have been beyond mortifying. Her blood still courses hotly through her veins and Helena desperately feels the need for some relief from acute senses. Deciding a shower will help relieve the tension she feels, she pushes back the covers from the bed and stumbles into the bathroom, hastily shedding her sleep wear before turning on the shower. She barely waits for the water to warm before stepping under the spray.

However the water isn't enough to relieve the tension, the arousal she feels. Helena closes her eyes, seeing Myka as in her dream; green eyes dark with pleasure and Helena can't help the moan that escapes her lips thinking of the woman she desperately loves, whom in her dream had been desperate for Helena's touch. Fingers stray further down her body until they slip into her own wet heat, Myka's name a choked sob on her lips as her pleasure crests. The tiles are cool against her forehead as she rests, trying to steady her breathing, the water continuing to rain down upon her flushed skin.

The apartment is quiet when Myka returns. Walking down the hall to their bedroom she peers inside, checking to see if Helena is still sleeping but notices the bed is empty, the covers pulled back from the bed in a mess. The bathroom door is closed and she can hear water running on the other side, alerting her Helena must be in the shower.

With another glance at the bed, she shakes her head with a rueful sigh and begins making it, pulling at the sheets and blanket, straightening the pillows so they lay just so. Helena's scent penetrates the air and it makes Myka's stomach swoop with longing. Her run did her some good but there is no running away from the way Helena makes her feel. She's just about finished making the bed, smoothing over the duvet when she hears Helena open the bathroom door.

"Oh, I'd thought you left for the store without me."

Myka turns at her voice and instantly wishes she hadn't for Helena is standing a few feet away in nothing more than a towel wrapped around her slim body, her skin a warm glow from the heat of the shower and her hair wet and dripping water down her chest and Myka has never seen anyone more beautiful. She struggles to speak and when she finally does it's, "You're not dressed."

"Well I was just in the shower," Helena answers, though she knows what Myka means. Aside from Helena's accident and her own bout of food poisoning, they have been so careful about not undressing in front of each other before. But the last thing Helena had been thinking of this morning when she rushed for the shower had been about clothing.

Grappling for something else to say knowing she must look a fool with her jaw hanging open, Myka blurts out, "You didn't make the bed."

The words should be accusing but uttered breathlessly they lose their affect and Helena smiles sheepishly, a hand at her breast, clinging to the towel.

"I intended to make it after I was showered and dressed. You just beat me to it - as usually happens."

"Right," Myka laughs nervously, trying valiantly not to let her eyes slip anywhere below Helena's bare shoulders.

"Where did you go so early this morning?" Helena asks.

"Running. I went running. I needed to…get some air, but I'm back now and really need a shower of my own so I'm just going to...go…do that," she says bumping up against a wall in her haste.

"Myka, are alright?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" she asks breathless.

"You went running before we went grocery shopping. In all this time we've lived together that's never happened before. When you do go running it's always afterward."

When Myka doesn't respond, Helena continues. "And you mentioned you sometimes go running to help you think through something that's bothering you, so is there…something bothering you?"

Myka sees the worry in Helena's eyes but she really can't tell Helena what's bothering her is the erotic dream she had of them together, especially when Helena's current lack of clothing is not helping the situation. Any good her run did for her is null and void now and she really just wants to escape to the shower. "I'm fine, Helena, really. But I do need to shower before we go grocery shopping so..."

"Myka."

"Helena, really..."

"Don't you want to take a change of clothes with you?"

"Oh, yeah, that would be a good idea," she concedes rummaging in the closet for something to wear, aware of Helena watching her. "Give me fifteen minutes and we can go."

"I'll be waiting."

Myka escapes into the bathroom, locking the door behind her, leaning against it, trying to catch her breath. The room still warm with steam and the scent of Helena's body wash isn't helping in that regard. If anything, it makes it harder for her to catch her breath so she undresses, quickly turning on the water in the shower to cool and stepping under the spray to allow the water to soothe her.

When Myka walks into the kitchen later, freshly showered and dressed, Helena is standing at the kitchen counter, a cup of tea at her side as she eats…cake?

"You're eating cake for breakfast?" Myka asks amused. "Pete would be impressed."

"Pete must never know," Helena counters.

Myka laughs. "I won't tell."

"Besides, it's not just any cake - it's our wedding cake. It was too tempting to resist. Would you care for some?" she asks holding her fork out to Myka to offer a bite.

The action reminds Myka of all that transpired yesterday in a direct result of feeding each other the very same cake and shakes her head. "No thanks," she answers, looking away.

Myka is aware Helena is watching her, but still affected by her dream and Helena's near nudity earlier this morning, she can't quite meet those dark eyes.

"I made coffee," Helena tells her. "It should be ready now."

"Thanks," Myka says, snatching a banana from the counter on her way to pour herself a mug.

Helena waits until Myka takes her first sip before asking, "Are you sure nothing is bothering you this morning? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Myka simply nods. "And if there was anything worth telling, I would tell you, but there isn't," she says taking a drink.

"Alright then. In that case, I have a proposal for today."

Myka chokes on her coffee. "A what?"

"I mean a plan," Helena blushes at her word choice, "for today. That is if you're willing."

"Oh. What exactly?" Myka narrows her eyes in suspicion.

"Since we're going to be going to Tracy's next weekend, I thought it might be a good idea to bring her a gift."

"Helena, you already got her a baby gift - several in fact."

"Not a baby gift. A gift for Tracy. I sometimes think with all the anticipation over the baby's arrival, it's easy for the mother-to-be to be overlooked. I thought it might be a nice gesture to get something just for her. A care package of sorts she could use during her stay in the hospital and after. Lotions, bath salts - for after the baby is born of course - puzzle games, a gift card for a massage she can use whenever she feels the need, that sort of thing."

Myka grins softly at Helena.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Helena asks, now the one who is suspicious.

"You're sweet, do you know that?"

"I've been known to be on occasion," Helena says before sipping at her tea to cover her embarrassment. "But you may not think me so sweet once you realize this gift idea for Tracy requires shopping on you part."

Myka groans. "And there's the catch."

"I'll make it worth your while," Helena promises.

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I'll treat you to lunch and we'll end the day shopping in a bookstore."

Myka feigns a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose I could be persuaded to spend the day with you then."

Grinning triumphantly, Helena says, "Lovely."


Sunday afternoon really had been lovely. Myka had been lovely, even though they spent hours shopping for gifts for Tracy (and maybe one or two for the baby.) Even Myka had been guilty of that.

Helena kept her promise and the last stop of their day had been to the bookstore. They had separated, each pursuing their own literary interests and after Helena was finished with her perusal, she had gone in search of Myka, expecting to find her lounging in a comfortable, deep-seated chair absorbed in a book among the classic literature section.

Unexpectedly, she had instead found Myka in the children's section of the bookstore, seated in a bean-bag chair of all things, long legs bent at the knees to reveal just how unsuited she was for such a chair, paging through one book with several more piled at her feet. The sight had been so endearing, Helena had to snap a quick photo of her that way before making her presence known.

"Here you are!" Helena approached her, eyes alight. "I've been searching the entire store for you. We had a date to meet at the register over ten minutes ago."

Myka looked up at the sound of her voice and then quickly pushed back her coat sleeve to glance at her watch. "I must have lost track of the time."

"Mmm. You must have," Helena agreed, amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Yeah, sorry, I just…I was looking for some puzzle and logic books for Tracy - she loves those - and I stumbled across the children's section and…and it's been years since I looked at a children's book, but then I saw some of my favorites and thought it wouldn't hurt to pick up a couple books for the baby."

"A couple?" Helena asked raising an eyebrow at the stack piled at Myka's feet.

Myka blushed. "Several books," she corrected. "It's too much. I can put some back."

"Nonsense. One can never have too many books. We will make sure this little one is an avid reader by the time they say their first words. Now, let me see what you've found so far," Helena said pulling a child-size chair away from the child-size table to sit beside Myka. She bent to retrieve a book from the pile. "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. I don't believe I'm familiar with this one, but the cover is certainly cute."

"It's a cute book," Myka agreed.

""What are you looking at?" Helena asked glancing at the book still in Myka's lap.

"The Jolly Postman. One of my favorites as a kid," she said turning the book over to show Helena. "It's full of letters written by fairytale characters to each other that the Jolly Postman delivers. Many of the pages are actually envelopes that hold letters you can pull out to read, like this," she said showing Helena a letter.

"Very clever," Helena mused, reading the tiny-sized letter from Goldilocks addressed to The Three Bears, apologizing for eating their "porij" and inviting baby bear to her birthday party.

It's more for an older child - five or six but when I saw it, I couldn't resist. I have to get a copy for the baby."

"I'm sure they'll love it, Myka," Helena said passing the letter back to be returned to its envelope. "Now, shall I help carry this substantial stack of books to the register?"

"That'd be great, but first could you help me out of this chair? I don't think I can get out of it on my own without making a fool of myself," she said sheepishly.

Helena chuckled. "Perhaps I should let you make the attempt first while I film the result."

"In that case, I'm not budging."

Helena grinned. "You're no fun at all. Alright, I'll help you," she said standing from her miniature chair before grasping Myka's hand to pull her up from the bean bag's clutches, directly into her arms.

There had been a audible hitch of breath from one or both of them as they stood only hair's breadth apart, their hands still clasped together and their eyes lingering. Helena longed to close the small gap and meet in a kiss but hesitated too long and the moment slipped through her fingers as Myka let go of her hand and stepped away to gather the books.

She still regrets that she didn't kiss Myka then. Maybe it could have served as a catalyst to move their relationship a step further into something more. Then again, it's not as though they haven't kissed several times already. Without telling Myka how she feels, nothing is likely to change. But telling her is such a sobering thought.

She stares now at that picture she took of Myka in that bean-bag chair, unable to restrain the smile that overtakes her at seeing Myka so absorbed in something she loves.

The smile fades to a grimace however when a phone call interrupts her and she notices who is calling her while at work. She debates for half a moment the merits of avoiding the call but determines that putting it off won't do any good, she reluctantly answers it.

"Hello, Charles. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she greets overly cheerful.

"I think you know very well why I've called, Helena. Are there any further developments regarding your relationship with Myka?"

"Jumping right into things, are you? You couldn't even spare a moment to ask about the weather?"

"Ah, I see how it is. No change then," he sighs. "Shall I make arrangements to pick you up at the airport once you're deported?"

"I hardly think that's necessary since I'm not planning to be deported," she scoffs.

"Really? And how are things with Myka?"

"Myka is very well."

"You know what I mean, Helena. You and Myka as a happily married couple - how is that going?"

"I…I'm not sure."

"What do you mean, not sure?"

"Exactly that, Charles. I'm not sure of our relationship. Every time we share a moment or a kiss, nothing more seems to come of it, as though we're stuck in some sort of stasis."

"Spare me the details, but you've kissed multiple times? Surely that must be a good sign," he says delighted.

"Ordinarily, yes."

"Ordinarily?"

Helena sighs, trailing a hand through her hair. "We've been going out…on dates as a way to feel more like a married couple we have to be, not to mention are, and the kisses are more of a traditional outcome of those dates."

"That's an odd word for it."

"Well the kissing hasn't exactly been born out of passion - for the most part. They've more happened out of a sense of obligation, or at least that's how I think Myka feels about it," she says glumly.

"Back up just a moment. You said for the most part kissing isn't born of passion. Does that mean there have been some passionate kisses? And again, spare me the details," he rushes to tack on.

Helena sighs. "For me, yes. We were given a bridal shower last Saturday by our friends and Myka's family. Myka kissed me after we shared a bite of cake. It was…incredible," she sighs, heat infusing her body at the memory.

"Back up again. You had a bridal shower and I wasn't invited?"

"Charles, will you please focus? The shower was a surprise and you're thousands of miles away."

"Still, an invitation would have been nice," he pouts. "But do go on. You said Myka kissed you."

"She did, yes, but it was just after we were cajoled into feeding each other cake as newlyweds are often expected to do…"

"Traditionally, yes I see your point."

"And that's how most of our intimate moments come about, as if they're some sort of expectation rather than a desire."

"Hmm. Are you sure it's only that and not a hint of desire mixed in as well? I have met Myka remember and she seemed to me the sort of person that doesn't do anything half-heartedly."

"What are you saying, Charles, that she wants to kiss me?"

"Would that be so unbelievable?"

Helena thinks of their first official date. The way Myka shied away from a kiss goodnight initially but later, when they were in bed together, she was the one to initiate a kiss between them. A kiss that took Helena's breath away. That still does even thinking of it now.

"Maybe not entirely unbelievable," she admits.

"There you are, I knew it!"

"But even it happens to be true that she does have feelings for me, how am I supposed to ascertain that when I still don't know if any of these kisses are truly born of desire or obligation?"

"That's the easy part you continue to neglect, Helena. Just ask her how she feels. Have a real conversation where you discuss these matters of the heart."

"Charles…"

"Helena," he interrupts firmly, "it's time. More than time. You owe this to yourself and to her - to be fair to both of you."

"And if she doesn't care for me that way - the way I want her to?"

"Then she doesn't. It will hurt, I'll give you that, but it will also pass. Eventually. Probably."

"That's not very reassuring."

"The point is, the heartache will eventually fade and become bearable. You will move on, even if a part of you will always love her."

"I know what you say is true, Charles, but I…I couldn't bear it if our friendship suffered because of this desire for something more," she whispers.

"Then don't let it," he answers gently. "I'm not saying it won't be awkward for a little while or that it won't take work to preserve what you have together, but you can make it work. You're too good of friends to let your relationship suffer. And remember, Helena, Myka did marry you to keep you from being deported. If that's not the ultimate gesture of friendship, I don't know what is."

Helena laughs, clearing her throat of the emotions that have settled there.

"So you'll tell her how you feel?" he prods.

"I will…think about it."

"Helena," he groans.

"Charles," she groans back. "I've heard all you've said and I promise you I will take it to heart and consider telling Myka how I feel, but if I'm going to tell her, it needs to be when I'm ready."

"No time like the present."

"Yes, well, presently, I am at work and lovely as it is to chat with you, I really should return to actually working."

"If you must," he drawls.

"I must," she returns. "But thank you, Charles. I do appreciate you being there to listen, even when I'm being foolish."

"The first step to recovery is admitting it," he chuckles. "But in all seriousness, I just want you to be happy, Helena. And I think you're happiest with Myka."

"I am."

"Well, you're with her now, sharing a life, so if I can impart any advice to you; make the most of it."

"Thank you, Charles. I will do my best," she replies ending the call. She sits back in her chair, staring out the window and she thinks.


"As happy as I am you decided to accompany me tonight, are you sure I can't persuade you to join the class as my sparring partner? It would give poor Wolly a break from the floor," Helena entreats.

Myka laughs. "Maybe another time. For now Wolly is going to have to suffer the consequences of being your sparring partner. He must have improved some since the last time I saw him though, right?"

"Very little I'm afraid. Though he does try so hard."

Inside the studio Wolly catches sight of them right away, rushing to give Myka a hug. "Myka! It's lovely to see you again. Helena only just told me last week you'd gotten married - congratulations!"

"Oh, thanks, Wolly," Myka ducks her head away, still embarrassed by such support for this charade of a marriage they're trying to pull off.

"Though how you put up with this one on a full time basis I'll never understand," he says shooting Helena a look meant to be disapproving but that is nothing less than adoring.

"It does have its challenges," Myka tells him.

"I'm sure of it," he agrees.

"What is this? My friend and wife abusing me?" Helena pouts. "I'll have you know, Wolly, that Myka and I get on very well together," she says with a playful slap against his shoulder. "But I will admit that I am eternally grateful for her," she says, her brown eyes locking onto Myka's green.

"You did luck out, that's certain," he smiles at Myka.

"I have a wager for you, Wolly," Helena changes course.

"Oh? I've heard that tone before and it generally means something unfortunate for me."

Myka laughs at his accurate assessment and the mischief in Helena's eyes. "Myka and I plan to go out for ice cream after class - would you care to join us?"

"Well of course, I'd be delighted," he grins. The grin quickly fades for a furrowed brow. "But where exactly does the wager come in?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked. Loser tonight pays."

"That's hardly fair - you know our instructor would be aghast with that term. Loser - really. It's all a learning experience," he argues.

"Very well," Helena smirks. "The one with the most experience with their back hitting the mat tonight pays for the ice cream. Deal?"

"I suppose it will have to be. And it could be my way of celebrating your nuptials since I wasn't invited to the wedding," he says with a faux stern look.

"We didn't really have a wedding," Myka says. "Just a quick ceremony with just the two of us."

"No wedding! Helena!" he says aghast. "How could you not have a wedding with this beautiful creature? I demand details."

Helena rolls her eyes. "Later, Wolly, over ice cream. Come along now, no dawdling. The mat awaits."

Myka grins watching Helena drag Wolly towards the floor with her. She settles herself into a chair along the wall along with a few others that are also there to watch friends or family in the class. She takes an ever-present book from her bag to read in case things get a little dull, but as it turns out she never opens it. Watching Helena move across the floor, the grace and determination she exudes is so entrancing to watch that the words on a page are no match to it. And the fact that she is wearing a black sports bra with matching yoga pants, her midriff left on display only adds to the lure.

And poor Wolly. He really hasn't improved at all she realizes as she watches him land on the mat once more with a thud.

"I still don't know how you do it," Wolly exhales, trying to catch his breath after the class has been dismissed for the evening. There are a few students still gathering their belongings, but the studio is mostly empty.

"It's about anticipating your opponent's moves more than any real strength. And I can read you like a book, Wolly," she laughs.

"That hardly seems right - can you really?" he asks perplexed.

"Mmm. You're very consistent with little variance in your technique."

He contemplates the critique for a moment. "Perhaps you're right."

"I usually am," Helena remarks.

"Would you be willing to take a moment to show me a few pointers to improve my technique?"

"Of course," Helena says beginning to step back towards the mat. "You're not too tired?"

"Actually I am quite tired and sore," he says wincing when he sits down beside Myka. "I think I'd do better to just observe at this point."

Helena laughs. "Wolly, I can't very well show you good technique without a partner to spar with."

"Ah, yes, that's so," he concedes. Glancing beside him, he says, "What about you, Myka? Would you be willing to help Helena demonstrate a better technique?"

"Me?" she laughs, palming her neck as she glances at Helena standing before her, hands on hips looking at her expectantly.

"Yes, please do. I'm sure Helena will go easy on you, won't you?" he says turning towards the other woman.

"I make no promises," Helena returns, eyes shining.

"I'm not really dressed for it," Myka says gesturing to her jeans and kicking out a booted foot in an attempt to convince Wolly she can't possibly participate. Not with Helena wearing only a sports bra and yoga pants. It's one thing to watch her in such attire; it's a completely different matter to be in contact with her in such attire.

"All the better excuse to give when I best you then," Helena smirks.

Myka raises a brow at the challenge she knows has just been issued. "Alright, fine. I'll spar with you," she says removing her boots and pushing up the sleeves of her shirt.

Helena grins watching her. "Finally, an equal."

"Hey! I resent that remark," Wolly complains, slumping further into his chair.

"Sorry, but even you admitted you've much to improve upon."

"Still, must you reiterate the fact so bluntly?"

Helena laughs. "Alright, Wolly, now sit back and observe," she says as Myka steps onto the mat now sans shoes. "You must learn to anticipate your opponent's moves."

Myka paces around the mat once, Helena mirroring her action as they take stock of each other. Finally done encircling each other, Myka moves forward but Helena quickly steps into her space, taking hold of her arm and uses her foot to trip Myka so that she lands with her back on the mat, Helena straddling her, holding her arms against the mat.

"You see, Wolly," she grins, eyes never leaving Myka's, "anticipation is everything."

Myka huffs out a breath, causing Helena's grin to widen. "Wouldn't you agree, Myka?"

Myka doesn't answer right away, instead trying valiantly not to let her eyes stray to Helena's heaving chest while simultaneously trying to ignore the heat of Helena's body against hers. She focuses instead on the way strands of hair have escaped Helena's bun, trailing down her neck in soft ringlets. She notices the rose in Helena's cheeks and the shining triumph of her eyes and is suddenly reminded why she'd refrained from sparring with Helena like this for so long. Remembers the way her stomach had tensed in anticipation of…of something. Much like it's doing now. Only now she knows what that something was - is. Desire.

It's only when she feels Helena's hold slacken slightly against her arms that Myka uses the moment to sit up quickly, brushing her lips against Helena's in a kiss that lasts long enough to catch Helena by surprise, her hold on Myka's arms dissipating as she brings one hand up to cup Myka's cheek instead. Before she loses her focus entirely from Helena's enticing lips, Myka breaks the kiss and flips their bodies so that now it is Helena laying with her back against the mat and Myka straddling her legs and pinning her arms as she leans over her, chest heaving from exertion that she wills Helena to believe is from the move alone and not the heated kiss they just shared.

"Absolutely," she grins. "You didn't anticipate that, did you?" she asks, watching the dazed expression in Helena's eyes turn to understanding and mirth.

"I certainly didn't," Helena admits breathlessly, licking at her lips still wet from Myka's kiss.

"It's obvious I still have much to learn. And I don't think I'm the only one," Wolly quips from the sideline.

"Alright, you have your ice cream after a well won match."

"Several matches," Helena smirks.

"Alright, several. But now it's time to hear how your marriage came about," Wolly says sitting down with his own cone of chocolate ice cream. "I didn't even know you two were dating."

"Well we hadn't been dating very long when we decided to marry. But we've been friends for three years, know each other better than anyone else. We just decided to skip over the dating since we know each other so well anyway."

"I think it's marvelous," Wolly enthuses. "Incredibly romantic. When you know it's love, why stall the inevitable, right?"

"Yes, exactly," Helena says.

"But I don't understand, why no big, formal wedding to celebrate then?"

Helena glances at Myka before answering. "Well, there may have also been the little matter of forgetting to renew my work visa and deportation was an imminent threat," she admits taking a quick bite of ice cream.

Wolly's eyes widen looking first to Helena and then Myka who nods in confirmation.

"Oh goodness, Helena, you do have a flare for the dramatic, but this…"

"I didn't forget the renewal on purpose, Wolly. It just happened," she defends. "But I can't say that I regret it altogether…"

Myka looks at her sharply at the admission, Helena catches her gaze and stutters under it. "…not when it's brought Myka and I closer together…" she trails off under Myka's stare.

"Still, not to have a proper wedding ceremony…"

"I've never wanted a big wedding," Myka explains, noticing Helena's discomfort. She takes Helena's hand in hers, brushing her thumb across her knuckles to offer comfort. "Eloping with just the two of us was much more romantic."

Helena meets her eyes, a grateful smile at her lips.

"Yes, I see your point," Wolly nods, looking between the two women. "A big wedding to plan would only stall the inevitable anyway. And the deportation issue seems to have been a blessing in disguise since you're both sitting here now, happily married and looking at each other with love in your eyes over ice cream."

Myka drops her gaze and hand away from Helena at Wolly's words, instead gripping her spoon to force a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, trying not to panic at the thought that Wolly can so blatantly see her love for Helena etched across her face - hoping that his remark is just that of an overly sentimental friend - hoping that Helena regards his remark as such and not for the truth it is.

"Yes, isn't it," Helena says with a fond look at Myka, noticing a blush rise in her cheeks.

"Ah, to be in love like you both are," he sighs.

"No new developments in your love life then I take it," Helena says.

"Sadly no," he responds. "And at nearly forty, I don't see my prospects improving any time soon."

"Nonsense, Wolly, any man would be lucky to have you."

"That's sweet of you to say, but the fact remains, I haven't dated in months."

Grateful for the change in focus of their conversation, Myka says, "Helena, what about Steve?"

Helena's eyes light up. "Of course! I don't know why I never thought about him before. Wolly, Myka and I work with the sweetest man, you'd adore him and I'm sure you'd both get along splendidly. You must allow Myka and I to set you up with him."

"I don't know, Helena," he shakes his head uncertain with the idea. "Set-ups have so rarely worked out for me."

"That doesn't mean this one will fail. Besides, what have you got to lose?"

Wolly considers her words. "I've always liked the name Steve," he smiles bashfully.

Helena grins. "Then you'll allow me to pass along you information to Steve?"

"I suppose so," he agrees.

"We could even have you both over for dinner and a board game one night next week. Just a fun evening in with friends to help take the pressure off."

"That sounds pleasant - if Steve agrees of course," Wolly says.

"I'm sure he will," Myka smiles. "We'll speak with him tomorrow and make arrangements."

"Thank you both," Wolly says. Lifting his cone of ice cream he toasts, "Here's to our friendship…and to your love for one another. May both endure for many years to come."


It's dark when Myka stirs awake, a shiver coursing through her body. She pulls the covers further over her shoulders when she realizes why she's cold. Helena isn't clinging to her, using her as a human pillow the way she does most nights. Helena isn't even in bed with her, the covers of her side of the bed pulled back as though she left intending to return soon. Myka glances at the bathroom door to see it's unoccupied. Rubbing at her eyes to focus she notices a soft light emanating from under the bedroom door. Curious to find out what Helena is doing awake, Myka pushes back the covers, rubbing at bare arms when they meet cool air. It may be time to switch to her winter pajamas after all. A long-sleeved shirt wouldn't go amiss in this cool fall weather. For the moment she pulls a sweatshirt over her head to ward off the chill before going in search of Helena.

She doesn't have to go far. Stepping into the hall she sees the light on in the office. Quietly she stands in the doorway, observing Helena at her desk, dark head bowed over a notebook she appears to be writing in. She watches for a few minutes in silence, noticing the way Helena purses her lips in concentration as the pen flies across the page. It isn't until she notices Helena shiver that she realizes she must be freezing wearing only the thin camisole she went to bed in. Without making a sound, Myka walks back to the bedroom to grab an extra blanket from the closet.

At the office door again, she hesitates stepping inside, loathe to disturb Helena, even if it is to bring her a blanket so she doesn't freeze. But when she notices Helena shiver again and pause in her writing to rub at her arms, Myka decides to make her presence known.

"Helena?" she calls softly.

Helena spins at Myka's voice, startled at the intrusion.

"Sorry," Myka says moving into the room, noticing the way Helena drapes an arm over her notebook when Myka approaches as though to hide what she writes. "I thought you might be cold," she says handing Helena the blanket.

Helena sets her pen down to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. "Thank you, it is a little chilly in here. I didn't plan to be away from bed quite so long."

"Are you writing?" Myka asks with a glance at the notebook.

"Yes," Helena admits softly, placing her arm across the pages of the notebook again self-consciously. "I've had the urge to write for some time now and it finally consumed me enough to pull me out of bed to do it. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Don't be," Myka smiles softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I'll just leave you to it," she says turning to leave.

She is almost at the door when she hears Helena call softly, "Myka, wait."

Myka turns to look at Helena, sees the hesitation in her eyes.

"Would you…would you like to read what I've written so far?"

Myka's lips part into a wide smile. It's not lost on her what this means; that Helena is willing to share something so personal, a part of herself with Myka.

"I'd love to," she says pulling the chair from her desk and moving it close to Helena's side.

"Mind you, this is only the roughest of rough drafts," Helena warns her, "so please don't harbor it against me."

Myka laughs. "I'm happy to read whatever you've written," she assures.

Helena watches closely with bated breath as Myka consumes the words on the hand-written page, watching as a smile blooms across her face.

"The is good, Helena," she nods.

"But not great?" Helena teases half-heartedly.

"Well, it is only the roughest of rough drafts," she teases back. "But I love it already," Myka says looking up to meet Helena's rapt gaze, hearing Helena's shaky exhale that belies her nerves. I love you, Myka wants to add seeing the vulnerability Helena exudes but she refrains. Instead she reaches to take Helena's hand and says, "I think this has the potential to be an amazing story."

"Do you really think so?" Helena asks almost shyly.

"I do," Myka says with conviction.

Helena smiles, eyes bright with excitement. "Well there's more to come. I have so many ideas, Myka. And I could use a sounding board for some of the plot ideas I have if you're willing?"

"You know I am."

It's early in the morning before either return to bed again.


Myka yawns in the middle of a sentence while talking with Pete in her office.

"Am I boring you?" he teases.

"No, sorry, Helena and I were up late last night."

"I bet you were," he grins. "Two honeymooners like you, of course you'd be up late."

"We weren't…doing that…" she blushes. "We were just…oh never mind, it's none of your business what we were doing even if it wasn't what you think it was."

"Hey, I'm just impressed you two haven't been late to work more often. I remember when I was first seeing Amanda, I was late into the office more times than I can count. We've gotten better with our timing since then, but you two already seem to have figured it out - you've only been late, what, twice so far?"

"We were late because of injury and illness and those are the only reasons we've been late."

"Sure they were," he grins.

"You are such a child sometimes," Myka groans.

"Yeah, but you love me. So how is it…you know…with HG if you don't mind my asking."

"Pete! Yes, I do mind you asking. I'm not going to tell you details about my love life."

"Okay, okay," he says hands up in surrender. "Geeze, I thought we were friends."

"Just because you like to volunteer certain intimate details doesn't mean we're all so inclined. And the details you've shared, no one has asked for by the way and we could have happily done without."

"Myka," Helena interrupts from the doorway. "I'm running down to the cafe for something to eat, can I bring you anything back?"

"HG! I was just talking to Mykes about your late night last night," Pete grins. "Sounds like you really know how to show your lady a good time."

"Myka?" Helena questions uncertainly. "You told Pete about…"

"No! No, Helena. He thinks we were…engaging in…marital activities," she says with a wave of her hand and blushing deeper.

"Ah," Helena says relaxing once she realizes her writing is still a secret only between them.

"Yeah, I was just telling Mykes I'm impressed you've only been late to work a couple times."

"Is that some sort of challenge, Pete? Because although Myka is quite professional, taking her work hours very seriously, I'm quite sure," Helena says, pitching her voice lower, "with the right incentive, I could persuade her to come in late if given the opportunity." Helena looks directly at Myka then, her brown eyes boring into Myka's with the promise of her words so that Myka feels her temperature rise. She is quite sure Helena could persuade her too and feels her jaw go slack with the images conjuring in her mind under Helena's seductive voice.

"Okay, enough discussion about…that kind of distraction. Helena, yes, if you're getting something for yourself, I'd like a muffin, thanks. And Pete, don't you actually have work to do? I'm pretty sure that's why Artie keeps you around after all."

"Geeze, someone's cranky. A morning love session always puts me in a good mood. Too bad the same can't be said for you."

"Pete!"

"I'm going, I'm going."

Helena chuckles watching his retreating form before turning back to Myka, her chuckle quickly subsiding when she notices the way Myka rubs at her head. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's just Pete being Pete. And I'm just a little tired I guess."

"I am sorry if I contributed to your fatigue today. I'll be more mindful of that in the future."

Taking Helena's hand to offer reassurance, Myka says, "Helena, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm thrilled to be able to read your writing and offer suggestions when you ask. I want to do that, to be there for you, no matter the hour."

"Even if it leads to suggestive remarks by one Mr. Lattimer?"

Myka shrugs. "He's Pete, I can handle whatever he throws at me."

"You can handle everything thrown at you, I'm quite sure."

Except Helena leaving her. Myka knows she couldn't handle that. She married Helena because she couldn't handle the thought of her leaving. And now, knowing she's in love with Helena, she's knows being without Helena would destroy her.

"I hope that's true," Myka whispers.

"I have no doubt," Helena says with a quick kiss against her cheek. "And I shall return momentarily with your morning snack to keep you fortified," she says with a wink.

Myka takes a deep breath, watching her go.


They're both sitting on the sofa one evening in the middle of the week, bowls of ice cream in hand. Myka has a novel in her lap but she steals more glances at Helena slowly paging through a magazine than she does at her own book.

She loves these quiet evenings at home more than anything. Just the two of them together, not even doing anything in particular, just ordinary things. Tonight they had come home and made dinner like usual. Unusual, they had tried a new recipe for them both, chicken Marsala.

Mushrooms had been involved but Helena had been considerate about them. "Is it the flavor of the mushrooms you don't like or just the texture?" she asked as she chopped them in halves.

"It's definitely a texture issue. I don't think I've ever had one in my mouth long enough to decipher the taste," Myka said honestly.

Helena laughed. "Well, how about I bring out a second pan and divide the ingredients, separating the mushrooms just in case you don't like their taste either."

"Thank you," Myka said, beginning to slice the prosciutto.

"It's no trouble, Myka. And at dinner, you can try a bite of my chicken, cooked with the mushrooms to see if there's any difference in taste."

When Myka decided there was a slightly more savory taste to Helena's chicken cooked with mushrooms, Helena had been pleased.

"That means we can probably rule out their taste being a factor for you and cook more with them as long as you don't have to eat the mushroom itself," she said taking a bite of her chicken with an actual mushroom and moaning happily at the taste. "Though I do think you're still missing out."

Myka laughed. "You're welcome to my share of all the mushrooms."

"I'll gladly hold you to that," she said taking another bite.

Making and sharing dinner had been wonderful as always, in spite of the dreaded mushrooms. And Myka wants things to continue just as they are. The dinners, the conversations, the laughter, the nights spent in each other's arms, even the quiet moments when they say nothing at all, like now. She wants it all to remain a permanent fixture in her life. She wants Helena to remain in her life, in every way possible. The desire for that is almost overwhelming.

Maybe she just needs to tell her that. Tell Helena how much she means to her. Tell her that she loves her. The worst that could happen is that Helena doesn't feel the same, right? Surely they could still remain friends, share this camaraderie between them even if Helena doesn't feel the same. And if she does - and Myka's heart races with hope - then it's worth the risk.

Myka opens her mouth to say something, to speak what's she's thinking…and promptly fills her mouth with a spoonful of ice cream instead. Maybe the risk is too high after all. What if Helena not only doesn't feel the same and things become awkward and stilted between them because of Myka's admission? She doesn't want that, couldn't bear it if things changed in that way. So it's probably better just to remain quiet.

"Oh, Myka, look at this," Helena says breaking into her thoughts. "What do you think of this kitchen? Aren't the cabinets lovely? I wonder what kind of wood they are."

Myka looks at the page in Helena's magazine, at the large kitchen. "It is lovely. I think the wood is probably maple. Most of the really pretty cabinets are. I love the glass on some on some of the doors, though that would mean inside the cabinet would have to remain tidy," she says pointedly.

"I'm capable of keeping things tidy," Helena pretends to be affronted.

"Mmm. Your desk, the bed, and the kitchen counter notwithstanding."

Helena's eyes narrow mischievously. "My desk is perfectly organized to my specifications, I'm getting better about making the bed before you beat me to it and the kitchen is only untidy while I'm cooking, is it not?"

Myka laughs at the completely serious tone Helena uses in laying out her defense. "Yes, to all of the above."

"I thought as much. Now, shall I tear out this picture to add to our notebook?"

And when did Myka's notebook for house ideas become theirs? Her heart flutters at that one, probably insignificant word, our. Still, it could be significant.

"Our notebook?" she teases, pleased that she's managed to keep her voice from wavering.

Helena swallows a spoonful of ice cream before answering. "No, yours, of course. I just meant…well…" she looks uncomfortable to the point Myka becomes concerned.

"What, Helena?" she asks gently.

"It could be ours if…"

"If?" Myka prods, heart in her throat.

"Lots of friends move into houses together these days," Helena rushes to say. "And I just thought, perhaps we could do that as well, especially given that we're married and will be for the foreseeable future. This apartment is becoming rather cramped as it is. A house would give us much more room."

"Yeah, it would," Myka says looking about the living room, taking stock that every inch of wall space is covered with some sort of furniture, and very little actual space.

"Anyway, it might be something to consider…eventually."

"I think it's a good idea," Myka says. "One worth considering anyway."

"You do? Truly?"

"Yeah. It makes sense. Like you say, we're going to be married for a while," Myka can't help the smile that overtakes her lips at that sentence but realizing the gravity of the situation she adds, "at least until we satisfy Immigration Services and their investigation."

"Which we will," Helena affirms. "So, does this mean we are potentially looking to buy a home then?"

"I…I think so," Myka says hardly believing that she and Helena are actually discussing buying a home together.

"Aces!" Helena grins, reaching over to stick her spoon into Myka's bowel of ice cream after finishing her own.

"Hey! You already had your ice cream," Myka accuses only earning a satisfied smirk from Helena.

"Yes and now I'm having yours as well."

This, exactly this simplicity between them, the way they discuss serious matters one moment and can be playful the next feels so right that Myka intakes a sharp breath. This is it. This is the moment she needs to tell Helena how she feels about her; that she's in love with her. There's nothing special about tonight, it's just like so many others they've shared before. And that's precisely the point. Myka wants, needs there to be so many other nights, just like this one, with the two of them happy together. It's the little moments that mean everything and she wants to go on sharing these kinds of little moments with Helena for as long as the universe allows them.

"Helena, there's something I…want to talk to you about," she says, feeling her heart pound and her hands begin to shake.

"Yes? What is it?" Helena asks, dark eyes focused on hers.

Myka takes a deep breath, opens her mouth to spill the words aloud she's held back for so long, they're on the edge of her tongue… "Helena, I…"

Bzzz. Bzzz.

And then the vibration of Helena's cell phone against the coffee table causes Helena to look away and the oh so important moment to float away as though carried on a breeze.

Helena uses the distraction to take another spoonful of ice cream from Myka's bowl, slipping the spoon into her mouth with a wink before grabbing her phone. Looking at the screen, she pulls the spoon from her mouth with a sputter, her face paling.

"Helena? Are you alright?" Myka asks moving forward, ready to perform the Heimlich if necessary but Helena leaps from the sofa, clutching her phone, eyes still on its screen.

"Yes, I'm sorry but I need to take this call...excuse me," she says rushing from the living room to escape down the hall to their office. Myka hears the door click shut and worries who could be calling Helena to put that troubled look on her face.

She gathers their dishes, trying to turn her attention elsewhere than Helena's mysterious call, and washes what little remains of her ice cream down the drain, watching it swirl in the sink before disappearing with the water. She rinses both bowels and spoons before loading them in the dishwasher. A part of Myka wants to check on Helena but everything about the way Helena acted suggests she wouldn't want Myka's presence even if it's to offer comfort. And what does that mean? She begins scrubbing down the already clean countertops in an effort to take her mind off Helena's phone call, or more specifically her reaction to it.


"Hello, Giselle?" Helena answers her phone, closing the office door behind her and beginning to pace the room.

"Helena…I wasn't sure you'd answer."

"To be honest, I wasn't sure if I should. Why are you calling, Giselle?" she asks softly. "It's been nearly two months since we broke up - without a word from you in all that time, despite my attempts to reach out."

"I know."

"Why are you contacting me now?"

"I wasn't ready before. But now I…I want to speak with you…about us," she admits.

Helena sits down at her desk, that one word, us, conjuring all sorts of emotions within her. And memories.

"We've being seeing each other for a few weeks now. I think we're officially a couple - an us," Giselle said, her fingers twining with Helena's on top of the duvet as they reclined in bed.

"So we are," Helena smiled back.

"But our lives don't consist of only us."

"That's true. Where exactly are you going with this train of thought, Giselle?"

"I think it's time we branched out from the comfort of our own little bubble and actually met each other's friends and family."

"You know my brother lives in London," Helena quickly rebutted.

"Yes, but there's my family and friends you could meet and I know you have friends too. Like that Pete guy you always complain about even though I can tell you actually like him. Oh, and what about the other coworker you've mentioned - Mike? Michah was it? From what I can tell, he can keep Pete in line and the two of them together sound like they'd be fun to have over to dinner one night paired with a couple of my friends, what do you think?"

"She", Helena said quietly.

"What?"

"She can keep Pete in line. Myka is a woman, darling."

Giselle balked at the revelation. "Myka is a woman? You never mentioned she was a woman."

"I'm quite certain on the few occasions I've mentioned her to you that I used female pronouns when describing something she'd said or done."

"Are you sure?"

Helena wanted to laugh. "There is no mistaking Myka is a woman, all five foot nine of her. I think you just got stuck on her name and heard what you expected to hear regarding pronouns," Helena explained, raising Giselle's hand to her lips for a soothing kiss.

"Okay, so Myka's a woman. That's good to know since I seemed to have missed the memo."

Helena chuckled.

"Well, I still would like to meet her then and Pete too if you want to have a dinner party some night as I mentioned."

"I'll think about it…but at the moment, I can think of something much more stimulating than a dinner party," she said grinning wickedly before pulling the duvet over them both, Giselle's laughter ringing in her ears.

"What about us?" Helena asks, her voice harsher than she intended.

"Our parting was abrupt."

"That's certainly an apt word for it."

"I have regrets, Helena. Don't you?"

After a pause, Helena answers quietly. "Yes."

"I only want a chance to put things right, for both of us. I think we both deserve that at least. There are things that have been left unsaid. Things left to linger."

"Fine," Helena answers in a clipped voice, pushing away lingering memories. "When do you want to meet?"


Myka is still in the kitchen, beginning to reorganize the contents of the fridge when Helena finds her, clearing her throat softly to alert Myka to her return. Myka sets down the still unopened bottle of champagne on a different shelf and hurriedly closes the door. The look Helena gives her is pensive and Myka goes to her without thought, lightly touching her arm and asking, "Helena, are you alright?"

Helena can't quite meet her eyes as she answers her. "That phone call was from Giselle," she states and doesn't fail to notice how Myka retracts her hand, bringing it to her chest to cross her arms protectively about her.

"Oh," Myka exhales as though her breath has been knocked from her lungs. "I didn't know you were still talking," she says, brow furrowed.

"We're not...we haven't spoken since the night we broke up."

"Okay...so why did she call? I mean it's been a while since you broke up. What does she want from you now?" Myka asks trying to understand how her world, her happiness could shift to such instability so drastically in only a few moments.

Helena sighs, a hand tugging at her hair as she forms a response. "We didn't...we didn't part on particularly good terms and it was all rather sudden. We both have...regrets about the way things ended and she wants to talk. I think she's looking for closure, Myka, which is something I think we could both use. There's also the matter of her belongings I still have and...I owe her an apology...an explanation of sorts I think."

Regrets? It's the one word Myka's mind chooses to focus on. What kind of regrets? There are a million questions Myka wants to ask but she can't bring herself to ask any of them. What right does she have to ask them after all? She's Helena's friend, not significant other, despite their marital status that would say otherwise. The irony doesn't escape her.

"So when are you planning to meet?" she quietly asks.

"Giselle suggested this weekend, but since you and I already have plans to spend the time with Tracy, I suggested sometime next week."

"You don't have to go with me to Tracy's if you'd rather..."

"No, Myka," Helena interrupts gently. "I'm spending the weekend with you as we planned. Giselle waited all this time before contacting me, she can wait a few days more."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Yes. She can wait," Helena repeats firmly.

"Okay, I guess that's settled then," Myka replies feeling completely unsettled at the moment.

Silence hangs between them, both lost in their own thoughts for the moment. It's only when Myka finally moves to return to the living room that Helena recalls that Myka had been about to tell her something earlier. "Oh, Myka, was there something you wanted to tell me before we were interrupted?" Helena questions.

"No, it wasn't anything important."

"Are you certain?" Helena asks looking closely.

Myka, feeling anything but certain now says, "Absolutely. There's nothing to say."


Myka is already asleep beside her when Helena is still awake, thinking of her phone conversation with Giselle earlier that evening. It seems unfortunate that she called now just as things between she and Myka are going so well. Just as they seem to be on the cusp of something more. Giselle phoning as she did, wanting to meet has already made things awkward between she and Myka. They prepared for bed in near silence, each lost in their own thoughts and even now they aren't cuddled together as they usually are. They aren't even touching. Myka is on her side of the bed and Helena is on hers.

She sighs heavily. This wasn't the plan. Not that she'd ever had a plan to begin with where Myka is concerned. But she feels she owes it to Giselle to meet as she asked. She did care for Giselle very much. And she had hoped they were more than just lovers to each other, but friends as well. That proved not to be the case however. Sadly. They shared so much laughter together. Giselle had a wonderful laugh, Helena remembers. So uninhibited and contagious.

It was her laugh that had drawn Helena to her first. And her hair if she were being honest. Giselle with her long, burnished red, curly hair. She has a particular fondness for women with curly hair, she now realizes she can attribute to Myka and her long-held attraction…no, long-held love for her.

Oddly enough, she had been on the phone with Myka when she first noticed Giselle.

It was the end of a long week and deciding on a quick dinner, Helena found a lone seat at the bar at the bistro only a block away from the office. She just placed her order when her cell phone vibrated against the bar, Myka's name flashed across the screen.

Helena snatched up the phone quickly to answer. "Myka, hello. Everything alright?"

"Just checking to see if we're still on for the museum tomorrow afternoon? Today sort of got away from me and I forgot to check with you on our plans."

Helena chuckled. "I can relate. It has been a ghastly week, hasn't it?"

"It has," Myka returned the laugh. "Thank god it's finally over. I should have thought to ask before, but if you want to come over to my place, we can order something for dinner."

"Oh, I wish you had asked sooner, I would have loved to have dinner with you, but as it happens, I've just placed my order. I could cancel it…"

"No, don't do that. We'll make plans for dinner for another time. It's just as well, I probably wouldn't be good company tonight, I'm so tired, I'd likely fall asleep half way through eating."

"I'd argue that you're always good company, but I understand your predicament. I'm likely to fall into bed the moment I get home."

A loud sound of laughter diverted Helena's attention to a table across the room that seated five or six women. Apparently a group of friends or coworkers getting off to a good start for their weekend. Her eyes momentarily lingered on one woman with long red hair, only looking away when the woman sensed Helena's gaze and looked up to meet her eyes.

"So tomorrow then - we're still on for the museum?"

Helena turned away from the table to focus again on Myka's call. "Yes, shall I meet you there as we planned or would you rather I meet at your place so we can go together?"

"Better meet there as planned. I've got some errands to run in the morning and it may take me until it's time to meet to finish them."

"Very well, I'll meet you there then."

"Great. Have a good night, Helena."

"You too, Myka," she said ending the call.

"Myka? Not your lover I hope?"

Helena turned at the bold question, finding its source in the same striking woman seated at the table only a moment ago. A woman with deep blue eyes and an unmistakable hopeful gaze.

Helena laughed incredulously. "Hardly." Though not for lack of trying she could admit, if only to herself. "Myka is just a friend and coworker."

"Well maybe I can distract you from Myka and your work. I've been told I'm good at that," the woman grinned.

Helena arched a brow at her, surprised at her continued boldness but also impressed. Her eyes lingered on the woman before her, taking her in. She was quite tall, the heels she wore with her navy blue suit made her nearly a head taller than Helena. Her eyes were a fetching shade of blue but it was the hair that entranced Helena the most. Long, red and curly. She did so have a weakness for women with curly hair.

"I have no doubt you are," Helena smiled.

"Well then, what do you have to lose? I'm Giselle," she introduced, extending her hand in invitation.

Helena stared at her hand for only a moment before grasping it with her own. "Helena."

Giselle had joined her for dinner that night. It had been the first of many pleasurable nights spent together until they had parted so suddenly.

And now, after months of silence, Giselle wants to talk. And Myka turned away, remains silent beside her.


Myka can feel a headache coming on. It's little wonder - she hardly slept last night, thinking about the call Helena received from Giselle and what the woman could possible want to speak with Helena about. Helena didn't sleep well either if her continuous movement was anything to go by. Normally she sleeps peacefully, resting against Myka but they hardly touched last night and they hardly spoke this morning, each lost in their own thoughts.

Myka's thoughts have thrown her into a tailspin of emotions and what-if scenarios she knows she would do better not to dwell on. But at the moment, that would be like asking her not to breathe and so she dwells.

"So I've got some news to share," Pete says strutting into her office, a large grin adorning his face.

"Yeah? What's that?" Myka asks, eyes never leaving her computer screen as she begins to type out an email. She knows from experience that Pete's news is most likely only to tell her how many croissants he managed to fit into his mouth at breakfast.

"It's good you're sitting down 'cause I'm pretty sure what I'm going to say would knock you off your feet. Amanda and I are engaged."

"What?" and now Myka does glance up from her computer screen. "Engaged?" she cracks a smile as Pete sits in front of her desk. "How did it happen?"

"I'm not really sure," he grins. "One minute we were lying in bed talking about just normal everyday stuff and the next minute I blurted out a proposal. It was so simple."

"That's the way it works out sometimes," she says. And sometimes doesn't work out in the case of her finally being willing to admit her feelings to Helena on a night like any other but failing to follow through at Giselle's interrupted call.

"I don't know why I was ever scared to do it before, or that I had to have some big game plan. I didn't even have a ring and she still said yes."

Myka stands to walk around her desk, pulling him from his chair to wrap him in a hug, clinging to the solid weight of him. "Of course she said yes, she loves you, even though you're a total goofball most of the time."

"I still can't believe it," he says starting to pull away but stops when Myka still clings to him. "Hey, you okay?" he says sensing her need for comfort.

"I'm fine," she says pushing away from him.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just so happy for you, Pete," she manages to breathe, brushing away an escaped tear. And she is happy for him, even as her own happiness seems to be crumbling beneath her. "This is what you deserve, to spend the rest of your life with the woman you love."

"Yeah, I've never been happier. I'm gonna be married the most amazing woman."

"Well, I happen to think I already have that honor, but Amanda is a close second anyway," she smiles at him.

"We're never going to settle that argument so let's call a truce and agree to disagree."

"That's probably wise," Myka laughs.

"So, Amanda and I want to celebrate our betrothal," he grins at the word, "and to do that, we have to have all our nearest and dearest in attendance. We were thinking of going to dinner with everyone - not this weekend since it's Halloween and you and HG will be out of town at your sister's anyway, so we were thinking of next Wednesday."

"Wednesday? Why not wait until next weekend?"

"Because next weekend we're doing a dinner with just our families and trust me, you don't want to be there with Amanda's dad when he goes all general on me," Pete shudders.

Myka grins. "Actually I think I'd like to see that."

"You'll have to wait for the wedding day then. So how about it, Wednesday then?"

"Wednesday, I could probably make it but Helena has an…appointment," Myka falters with the word for her meeting with Giselle.

"Appointment? Nothing serious?"

Hopefully not, she thinks. "No," is the only response she gives. "What about next Friday?"

"No good, Leena mentioned before that she has a date next Friday and Claudia's got a gig."

"The nerve," Myka teases.

"Right? How about Thursday then - can you and HG make it?"

"Thursday." Myka can only desperately hope she and HG will be on speaking terms again by then. Depending how Wednesday night goes, things may be more than awkward between them but of course she can't tell Pete that. "Sounds like a plan," she says instead.

"Great. I'm holding you to that promise."

"I'll be there. And Pete, I really am happy for you."

"Me too, Mykes. I can't wait to be happily married - like you."

Myka doesn't respond, instead turning away to sit back at her desk.

She watches Pete strut out of her office, hears his laughter as Steve claps him on the back in hearty congratulations after Pete shares his news. And her mind goes back to Helena. Always Helena. Just like Pete, she doesn't need to wait for a perfect moment to tell Helena how she feels; she just needs to tell her. She should try again and not let this latest complication of Giselle suddenly reappearing make any difference in her relationship with Helena.

She's probably overthinking the phone call from Giselle anyway. Maybe it is just about closure. She can understand that. When she and Jeff broke up they had a discussion before, about where they were, where they were going and if they were going there in the same path. Turns out they weren't. It could be the same thing now. Helena said things between she and Giselle came to a rather abrupt end. There was probably no time for a discussion about paths or where they were leading.

This doesn't have to be a big deal. Certainly Helena has alluded to it be nothing of consequence. So she doesn't need to make it a big deal either. To show that she knows it's nothing to worry over she should invite Helena to lunch. Perhaps they could even turn it into a date of sorts. Especially if she should kiss Helena at some point during their time together. Her heart races at the idea, barely aware that her long legs are carrying her across the office to Helena's doorway.

She becomes aware of her proximity the moment she stands in the doorway to see Helena sitting behind her desk, her attention on a small piece of paper in her hands. The look of concentration on Helena's face is endearing and Myka doesn't intend to disturb her if she can avoid it but rather gradually walk further into the office until Helena observes her.

When Helena does notice her, she hastily shoves the piece of paper into her desk drawer. But not before Myka notices a tear part way down the middle, not before she realizes that which Helena had been gazing so intently on was the same photograph of she and Giselle together that Myka came across in Helena's desk drawer weeks ago.

"Myka! Hello. Is there something I can do for you?" Helena asks a little too brightly, standing to walk around her desk, her backside leaning against its front.

Myka is at a loss for a response, feeling the hope she felt seconds before be destroyed. "I…I just came by to see if you'd heard about Pete and Amanda?" she finally says.

"Yes, wonderful isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. Before I forget, he wants all of us to celebrate the engagement at dinner on Thursday night. I told him we'd be there, but thought I should check with you."

"Of course we'll be there. Amanda would never forgive us if we didn't attend."

"That's probably true," Myka says palming her neck.

"Was there any other reason you dropped by?" Helena asks, Myka's nervous habit not going unnoticed.

"No, not really."

Helena continues to stare at her disbelieving.

"Artie called a meeting for this afternoon."

"Yes, I know, I read the email. Two o'clock, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Yes."

Helena smiles, trying to put Myka at ease. "I'm glad you're here, even though I did already know of the meeting. I was thinking it might be nice to go out to lunch this afternoon? Would you care to join me?"

Myka wants to. More than anything. And if she hadn't just seen Helena staring at the photograph of another woman, one whom she was intimate with at one time, cared about, maybe even loved, there would have been no reason why she wouldn't accept Helena's invitation. She had the same idea after all. But now, with her stomach churning in knots…she can't.

"I'm sorry, Helena. I can't make it for lunch today. Too many things to get done. I've got a conference call I should prepare for - you know how it is."

"Oh, alright. I suppose I'll just grab something quick from the cafe downstairs then. I could bring something to you if you'd like?"

"No, I'll manage something. Thanks though," she says turning to leave.

"Myka, are you sure you're alright?" Helena asks distressed at Myka's obvious distress.

"I'm fine," Myka replies, not bothering to look back lest Helena see her eyes are a little too bright with unshed tears.

She can't walk back to her office fast enough and once she's safely inside, she closes the door to lean against it, tears falling from her eyes despite her best effort to hold them at bay. She wipes them away almost angrily. She can still see Helena's face as she gazed upon that photograph. How naive can she possibly be to think that Helena could perhaps feel something more for her when she must still have feelings for Giselle. Myka can feel herself trembling and carefully moves to sit down at her desk. Her head rests in her hands as she tries to draw breath, forcing herself to breathe slowly, in and out until she feels some measure of calm.

So Helena still cares for Giselle. It's not the end of the world. Hypothetically she knows that. But at the moment, it feels as though it is.