"If..." (by Rudyard Kipling)
Earlier that week, Eileen and Claudia had watched the screen and estimated that Sam Martino was at Ted Grayson's apartment for less than fifteen minutes. That was long enough for the businessman to take advantage of the jilted Secret Service worker. "Must be tough for you….," is how Ted started his soliloquy with the stranger who sat in his living room that day. Ted recognized insatiable ego when he saw it and it was only a matter of time before he had Sam practically eating out of his hand. Sam appreciated the sympathy, but he explained to his new friend, he wouldn't do anything illegal to help him.
"Think of it this way, Sam. I like to know who I'm doing business with. When I'm about to make a deal with someone, I check into their backgrounds. When I did this with Wells Corp, my people ran into a …situation…..shall we say?" Ted explained.
"What kind of situation?" Sam asked.
"Well, you know how there are no secrets anymore and that you can legally get your hands on almost anything about anyone. Well, when I tried to do that with Helena Wells, I kept coming up against a wall. And that wall seems to have been put there by ….the government," Ted said. His tech people explained that after a while, the trail on his competition went nowhere after listing her as a government consultant.
"She said she worked for the government," Sam confirmed, but didn't say anymore.
"As do you. But if I wanted to find out who your grandparents were, I bet I could," the host said.
"So you don't want to do business with Helena Wells, because you don't know who her grandparents are? You know she's related to HG Wells. Can't you just start with him?" Sam suggested. He had accepted the invitation because Ted told him that they could help each other and get what they wanted. So far, Sam wasn't seeing any of that.
"The whole thing has simply sparked my interest. Why would the government block honest citizens from acquiring information about another person?" Ted said, asking Sam again if he wanted a drink, but was refused a second time.
"How do you want me to help you?" Sam asked, getting to the point.
"Well, after that awful display at your girlfriend's….former girlfriend's house the other day, I thought maybe you and I have something in common," Ted said, sitting with this hands clasped behind his head now.
"Yeah? What's that?" Sam asked.
"We both want to get rid of Helena Wells," Ted said. "Metaphorically speaking, of course."
"What good does that do me?" Sam asked specifically.
"Come on, Sam. It's obvious that your girlfriend was hoodwinked into this. Helena Wells goes after what she wants, I'll give her that. But if she's sliding down that corporate ladder she built, Myka might be one of the first things she lets go of. Who will Myka go running to then, Sam, if that happens?" Ted asked, spewing his theory that was so filled with holes even he didn't think Sam would buy it at first.
Sam Martino was a desperate man. Not only had he lost the only woman he loved, he had been humiliated in the process. It didn't take much to stoke the embers of Sam's thirst for revenge. Legally, of course. Ted Grayson wasn't asking for him to get specific information on Helena. He just wanted to know why the government would make it appear like Helena's records were off limits.
"I know a guy," Sam said slowly and Ted knew he had him.
Wells Corp had come out with six of the top ten advances in the last year and Ted Grayson knew if he wanted to beat them, he'd had to discredit their CEO. Or at least tarnish her. Sometimes just casting doubt was enough to make the press rip someone apart.
Sam shook Ted's hand and said he would see what he could do – no promises. But all the way back to Washington DC, Sam thought about what it would be like to get Myka back. It was a long shot – but just maybe it would work. A part of him still couldn't believe Myka left him …..for Helena.
"If those two are together, there's only one reason, and I bet it has something to do Helena," Eileen said as she wrote their names on a white board on the wall in her office.
"Maybe he wants Sam to get him in good with the White House?" Claudia asked as a possibility. Her monitoring system showed Sam returned to Washington that Sunday night.
"No, I think this is personal. Why would Sam help Ted? They both have to think they have something to gain. They have to have a mutual interest, and that's Helena," Eileen said, pacing the floor now. "But what is he up to?"
"Are you sure we shouldn't alert the boss?" Claudia asked, worried that something could happen.
"If Helena needed someone watched, who would she come to first?" Eileen asked, leaning over the desk that seemed too large for her.
"She'd come to me," Claudia said.
"Exactly," Eileen confirmed.
Sui Generis was a resourceful entity. When Mrs. Frederic confirmed that Helena could benefit from the calming effects of meditation, he asked if Helena might enjoy a place in which to do this quiet reflection.
"What do you suggest?" Irene asked, days before Helena's return.
"I thought perhaps a small area in her adjoining apartment in her office. This would mean that she could easily slip in there during the day when it was time for her meditation or yoga classes," Sui figured out and shared.
"Easily slip in?" Irene repeated. "More like kicking and screaming, " she said under her breath. "You're the expert, Mr. Generis, so if you think it would help, I will defer to you. I know so little about these practices," Irene confided in him.
"What do you do to center yourself and remain calm?" he asked the woman who usually appeared unruffled.
"Mostly I put my phone on call forwarding," Irene said, thinking how many times Helena would call her when she came back.
"The paper said last week that we planned the perfect escape, and that having Joanne and Jaime act as our doubles was a stroke of genius," Myka said that afternoon as they walked along the sandy shore.
"Well of course," Helena said. "It was my stroke."
"I hope our children have your confidence," Myka said, teasing and unsure of where that thought came from. It made Helena stop in her tracks and she pulled Myka backwards. "What?" Myka asked, unsure of the look on Helena's face. It was a mix of excitement and pleasure.
"Have our children, Myka," Helena said, almost out of breath. That statement renewed something inside Helena.
"Nothing would make me happier," Myka said, pulling Helena into her. Helena was stiff.
"I can make it happen," Helena said, her head moving side to side as she thought about it.
"Well, yes…," Myka acknowledged without doubt.
Now Helena was walking around in small circles. "I know we can do it. I have developed a technique that can take the mitochondria from your genetic material and combine it with a strand of my DNA and we use synthesized spermatozoa as a delivery mechanism….," Helena related.
"Well, when you put it so romantically, how can I say no?" Myka said, laughing at her scientific genius wife. "Do I get dinner with that?"
Myka's quip was in part a nervous response because the plan meant talking about having children, who would have them, how they would have them, and everything else that came with that life event. But while Myka was on the 'what if's', Helena was jumping on the 'how to' wagon and taking off. Myka's attempt at humor was lost on Helena.
"There is no time for dinner. We must think about it. We must proceed …," Helena said, walking back towards the house.
Myka was stunned. She felt as if someone had just wound Helena up and released her. "WAIT!" she finally said, raising her voice because Helena didn't hear her the first two times. Helena stopped and turned to look back. Her expression – given the slight shaking of her head – was all – now what?
Helena was a scientist at heart. Her approach to anything was the scientific method. "Myka," she had lectured more than once. "We must ask a question, do the research, construct our hypothesis by doing an experiment, analyze our data and draw a conclusion, and finally communicate our results.
And that was when they were trying to decide on what to make for dinner.
"Helena," Myka said coyly, walking to where Helena was standing. Myka was perhaps the only person in the world who knew how to stop the whirling dervish once she started. She took Helena's hands, and waited for Helena to look at her. "We have time. We need to take time – to talk about this, to decide when we want this, how we want this. Together," Myka said, and her tone was calm, yet firm.
Helena remained expressionless as her brain processed what was going on. It was a rare event that Helena's plans were ever delayed. And rarer still - that her cooperation in deferring them was requested. She simply didn't have much experience at doing it.
"Oh," she finally said, because it was clear Myka was slowing them down. "But I…," Helena said, turning and pointing to the house because that's where she wanted to go to discuss this.
"Yes, I know," Myka said, moving closer. Myka learned a long time ago, the best way to reel Helena in was to give her something else to think about. "I trust you can make this happen…when we're ready. And we'll know when we are, Helena. Trust me."
Implanting emotion into what Helena thought should be a methodical discussion threw her off her game.
"The truth is, Mrs. Bering-Wells," Myka said, easing Helena back into the moment, "…I simply am not ready to share you… with anyone." Myka put her hands on Helena's jaw and pulled her into the softest kiss. "I want you all to myself – for now," Myka said in a tone so sexy that Helena lost her balance in the sand.
And as was her way, Myka was there to catch her.
"No, I know she hasn't come right out and said it yet," Bridget yelled from her marbled bathroom to her lover who was trying to find her scarf. "If we go again, I bet she will."
"Bridget, she can't take sides. That's not what a good therapist does," Sarah said back because she had been reading up about it. "And she already scheduled us."
Their first session was a little awkward. Bridget thought if she laid out the events, the woman would simply tell them what to do to fix it. Sarah was reticent once she admitted to the mistake. When asked how she felt about it, it took Bridget a minute to figure out the therapist was asking her. "Well, it's not in my top ten most romantic moments," Bridget laughed and the woman remained straight-faced.
"You use humor to deflect your real feelings," the therapist said to Bridget.
"Oh geez," Bridget let out, realizing couples therapy didn't equate to her and the therapist helping Sarah.
"I think we're getting at some important issues here," the psychotherapist said, fifty minutes later as she scheduled the couple for the next several weeks.
Bridget kissed Sarah goodbye that morning and reminded her she would see her for lunch. Bridget was making it a habit now of stopping by the showroom where Sarah worked to make her presence known. Sarah actually liked the idea.
That morning, Bridget was on her way to Wells Corp to leave some papers for Helena. Myka had insisted that her wedding gift of the million dollar foundation be renamed the 'Bering-Wells Foundation'.
Bridget took the elevator up to the 17th floor. "Good morning Sui," she said as she bounced off the elevator.
"Namaste," the android said, trying out the lingo he was learning about mediation and yoga.
"Namast-what?" Bridget asked and looked around for the joke.
"It is an ancient Sanskrit expression used as a greeting or salutation. Roughly translated, it means…." The android try to share his knowledge.
"Yes, I know what it means, but why are you saying it?" Bridget asked.
"Upon her return, I am going to instruct Ms. Wells in the disciplines of meditation and yoga," Sui announced proudly.
"You? Are going to ….? That is amazing," Bridget said as she left the papers for Helena and walked back to the elevator. "Android with a death wish."
"I am noticing a lowering in the usual upbeat tone in your voice, Ms. Cummings. Perhaps you would like to join us when we begin," Sui suggested.
"I would love to, if only to watch Helena's reaction. But alas, there are forces at work trying to undo my togetherness as it is," Bridget said cryptically.
Unfortunately, Bridget wasn't talking to just anyone.
"Oh, you mean a therapist," Sui said accurately. "I do hope the process of revealing and embracing one's feelings will be of benefit to you."
Bridget stared back in amazement. "As...if," Bridget said laughing as the elevator doors closed. She waited until they were shut before slapping her hand on her forehead.