A/N: Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! It means a ton!

"Nikola, I really don't need your help packing my clothing," Helen protested as Nikola took the opportunity to dig through her walk-in closet. In the months since that fateful night in the library, they had grown into something that was the closest thing to a relationship that either of them could be expected to maintain. Even so, they at least kept the appearance of separate living quarters, if only so that Nikola would stay. Out. Of. Her. Closet.

"But Helen, I had no idea you still had this dress…" Nikola protested in amazement. Helen wasn't sure what he was talking about. That tone of reverence was usually reserved for the red dress that she was wearing the day they met, but that dress had been all but destroyed in a rather unfortunate lab accident.

"Nikola, what are you going on about?" She had been sitting in bed reading, not quite ready to face the events of the day, but crawled out from under the covers to join him in the closet. He held up a shimmering black party dress. It was short and loose, cut in the style that was popular in the 1920's and had recently started to come back into style. This dress, of course, was actually from the 1920's, and Helen had only worn it once.

"New Years Eve, 1927," he reminded her. Oh, she hadn't forgotten.

Helen Magnus, the Helen Magnus of that time, anyway, was off on a safari in Africa. The Helen Magnus that had gone back in time in search of Adam Worth, however, was in New York City building business ties under an assumed name. Although she knew that she had written Nikola and told him of her planned trip, she decided to face the risk and go see him. It had been a damn lonely few decades, and as much as she hated to admit it, she missed the pesky vampire dreadfully. They were in the same city, and her willpower just wasn't that strong.

It was the holidays, and she remembered Nikola writing to her about a rather exclusive party he had attended that New Year's Eve. It had been no trouble at all to get Helen Magnus's name added to the guest list, although the risk of associating her real name with her presence in the city was not lost on her. She always did take senseless risks whenever it involved Nikola Tesla.

She ignored her usual business attire and instead slipped on a short, loose shimmering black party dress, adding dangerously high black heels and a pair of diamond earrings. She was dressed to kill.

She slipped relatively unnoticed into The Players. It was already fairly late in the evening, and the partygoers were all engrossed in their own conversations or dance partners. Helen got a drink and went in search of Nikola. A thorough search turned up no sign of him, until she remembered why he loved this club and why he had told her about this particular party.

Nikola was not known for his overwhelming people skills, and reveling in a New Year's Eve party was simply not his style. Knowing him as well as she did, Helen imagined he had engaged in the socially mandated pleasantries for as short a time as possible before retreating to the club's famous wine cellar. There she found him, indulging in a glass of who-knows-how-old wine. Although he obviously heard her approach, he didn't turn to see who the intruder was.

"Is this a private part, or may I join?" Helen asked, as a means of announcing her presence.

Nikola still didn't turn around. In fact, he didn't even react to the sound of her voice.

"Nikola!" Helen exclaimed, a bit concerned. She walked towards him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He finally turned towards her slowly, looking at her as if he was seeing a ghost.

"If this is madness, then let it come…" he mused aloud.

Helen smacked him. "You fool, it really is me!"

Either her words or the smack shook him back to reality. "Helen Magnus? What in God's name are you doing in New York? I thought you were headed to Africa on some sort of holiday."

"Yes, well, my plans changed. I was in the city meeting with potential patrons for the Sanctuary, and decided that I would look you up."

"On New Year's Eve. At the most exclusive party in the city. Hidden down in the wine cellar." He raised his eyebrow. It didn't have quite the suggestive tilt to it that he would later develop. It never occurred to her that her very presence this evening may have been what gave rise to his eventual intolerable innuendos.

"Yes, well. It has been quite awhile." Helen didn't have much of a plan thought out, and they stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. She realized she had drained her glass and refilled it from the bottle of she-wasn't-even-going-to-look-at-the-year Cabernet that Nikola had been plowing his way through. They caught up on each other's lives while working their way through another bottle or so of wine. It had been awhile since Helen had drank so much and it was, to her delight and dismay, going straight to her head. They heard the clock chime 11:30.

"Do you really intend to bring in the New Year in a wine cellar?" Helen asked.

"But what better location? I have everything I could hope for right at my disposal. The finest wines in the city and you." Helen looked down and tried unsuccessfully to fight back a grin.

"So I'm surprised James let you run off to America alone," Nikola said, fishing. Helen sighed to herself. James was starting to show interest, that much was certain. She was also fairly sure that he had mentioned his intentions to Nikola. In reality, however, it would be another ten years before they began their short stint as a couple.

"James does not dictate my every move, for all that he is a good friend," Helen defended.

"You've…changed." He observed, and she tried not to panic. She was trying to tone down her personality a bit, but she wasn't succeeding. "You're so much more confident. I like it."

"I'm so very glad you approve," she said, sarcastically.

"I like the hair, as well," he said, reaching out to run his fingers through one of the dark brown curls hanging loose around her face. His hand brushed her cheek and Helen shivered like a teenager. Pathetic, she thought. But then, she knew now what those hands were actually capable of and…she really needed to try to focus. She looked into his eyes and he was starting at her strangely. He had obviously noticed her reaction, and it was very much out of character for the Helen of that time. To that point they had shared a few brief, friendly kisses, but any serious attraction had only been one-sided.

He leaned in a bit closer to her. "Are you sure you aren't a hallucination?" He asked. She giggled. She really had entirely too much wine and really didn't care a bit.

"I'm quite sure," she said, leaning in to close a bit more of the gap between them. She set an arm on his shoulder.

"But if you weren't real, would you really admit it?" Nikola speculated. Helen just shook her head. "No matter. Even if you are a hallucination, I'm grateful for that much. I've missed you, Helen," he admitted. Throwing all caution to the wind, Helen leaned in and kissed him gently.

"I've missed you, too. You'll never have any idea how much," she said, instantly comfortable even with the younger version of her now-lover.

Nikola looked at her, his face covered with surprise, speechless, and finally settled for leaning forward to kiss her again. Helen quickly added heat to what started as a chaste kiss. Nikola's hands were on her knees, then he was tracing up the length of her thighs until he reached the hem of her dress, not that far from the tops of her legs. Helen began fumbling at his tie in an effort to even out the amount of skin they each had showing.

Eventually they had to come up for air, and Nikola pressed his forehead against hers, murmuring "I didn't tell you earlier, but I really like this dress."

Helen threw his tie aside and started on the shirt. "Aren't modern fashions wonderful?" She agreed. Nikola trailed kisses down her jaw and moved to her neck, inhaling her scent so he could remember it if he woke up and realized this was all a dream. His hands had slipped to the inside of Helen's thighs and her dress was so short that he could feel heat radiating from her.

He would regret it for the next 80 years or so, but he spooked. He pulled back from her, giving himself some distance to clear his head. The last time he checked, even though he most definitely felt this way about her, he wasn't even on her radar. They had always only been friends, and the fact that she was practically throwing herself at him meant either that something had drastically changed (unlikely, given the letters he had been receiving from James) or that she had had too much to drink and wasn't thinking clearly. Deciding the latter was much more likely, he realized that he had to stop this.

"Helen," he began. She silenced him with another kiss, which he quickly pulled away from. "Helen! As much as I may have dreamt of this moment, I would rather you not do anything you would regret tomorrow." She grinned at him, and ran a hand up his leg.

"I know exactly what I'm doing in," she reassured him.

"Well, if you do, then…I don't." he admitted, confused. To his surprise, she pulled him close in a tight hug, which he returned after a moment's shock. She held him like that for a few minutes.

"I'm so sorry, Nikola," she whispered. "I've done nothing but hurt you, and I'm afraid I'm just going to do it again."

"James?" He asked, understanding her choice as much as he hated it.

Helen wanted so badly to tell him everything. To have a companion in this long haul back to her time. She had bid James farewell, both of them knowing that the less contact they had with each other, the less likely they would be to mess up the timeline. Helen seriously considered it for a moment, and then decided to compromise.

"Nikola, I need to tell you something. You aren't going to believe it, and you may not believe it for a very long time." He pulled out of her embrace to look at her, intrigued. "I choose you. You are my dearest friend, and I want you by my side until the world ends." His smile was radiant, then faded.

"You said I wouldn't believe you…"

"I can't stay. I can't be with you right now, and I cannot give you a good explanation except to say that I'm not ready yet. But please, please wait for me," she begged, fighting back tears.

"I'll wait forever," he promised. He didn't ask her how she could be so certain everything would work out in the end. Mostly because he figured she wouldn't answer, but also because, even then, he considered Helen to be one of the rare few people who simply knew everything.

The clock chimed midnight and he pulled her in for one last kiss—long, and deep, and full of promise…

"Helen…"

"Yes, darling?" She asked, sweetly.

"You were in Africa, weren't you?"

She grinned. "Of course I was. Do you think that the me of 1927 would have really hunted you down to make out with you in a wine cellar?"

"Why do you think I was so convinced you were a hallucination?"

"If I hadn't showed up that night, would you really have waited?" Helen asked, uncertainly.

Nikola looked at her with a mixture of shock and affection. "Of course I would have. Of course, now that I have you, I plan on keeping you for the rest of time."

Helen forgave him for snooping in her closet.