By popular request!
Alright I lied.
She did think of John!
I don't want to do a current time Sanctuary fic, not yet. But I do want to do a bit about how John and Helen fell in love because, lets face it, I think its a cute thing to think about.
So this takes place when she's a student auditing classes at Oxford and he's a student going full time. Its going to have a bit about the other members of the Five and how they came to be but the main focus is going to be their relationship.
Welcome to the early days of Helen Magnus and John Druitt
Helen Magnus was not having a good day.
Ankle deep in mud, she watched as the specimen she had been tracking raced far away. Groaning she looked down at the hem of her dress. It was the latest fashion, one she had felt pretty in and a complete indulgence. She had only wanted to look nice for a single afternoon. But the moment she saw the Abnormal out of the corner of her eye she had taken off after it without a moment's hesitation. And now she was in the outskirts of London, ankle deep in mud and her prize was running away. No, Helen Magnus was not having a good day and at the moment she felt more than a little like crying about it.
But that would never do.
Instead she went to brush her skirts off only to realize that her hands were muddy as well. Anger surged through her as she realized her dress was not only dirty on the hem, the bodice was as well. And the skirts were torn too. She knew her hat and gloves were casualties of the run. And her parasol was as well. But she had at the very least hoped to keep the dress wearable. A lift of her skirt confirmed what she already knew. Petticoats, stocks and her boots were also caked with the stuff. Though there was no point to it, Helen picked up her skirts and turned around to walk home with whatever dignity she had in tact.
But one step forward revealed a sharp pain in her left ankle. Helen sucked in her breath, looking down at the appendage. Her boots hid any signs of the swelling but she could tell she had sprained it. The day was just going from bad to worse as she realized in addition to her dignity being in shreds, her feet were probably going to be as well before the walk home was over. Taking a deep breath, Helen forced herself forward. Her ankle hurt with every step and she knew she was limping terribly but she kept walking. The mud turned to cobblestones under her feet as she reached a more populated part of London. Still hobbling she tried to ignore the stares people were giving her.
She knew that the group of men laughing outside the tavern were laughing at her. But Helen was very used to such behavior from men. She ignored them, even when she heard footsteps behind her.
"Helen! Helen!" Her feet slowed as she turned around to see a man jogging up to her, "my you walk fast, even for someone with a hurt ankle."
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him.. The man was quite handsome, with bright blue eyes and a mop of brown hair she had a feeling was never really under control. He was dressed extremely fashionably, money screaming from every fold of cloth. But even so, he wore it all with an air of disdain. As if the very cloths he wore stood for something he found unpleasant. A fact she knew to be true.
"John," she sighed looking at him, "you should return to your friends," she said, not daring to move, "I must get home."
"Even with a hurt ankle, you are a stubborn one," he said, amusement bright in his eyes.
Helen's own narrowed as she fought against the blush in her cheeks. John Druitt simultaneously enthralled and disgusted her. Usually the former. She had first met him when she was auditing a class on politics in Oxford. He hadn't thought twice about challenging every opinion she gave, even when most of the men did not take her seriously. In fact, she wasn't sure John Druitt took anyone really seriously. But he did not treat her any different. And when she fired back ever one of his insults and barely concealed quips, she saw respect shine in his eyes for her opinions. When they began exchanging quips in the hallways, it had raised eyebrows among the students, mostly because he had a reputation as a pot stirrer and she had the same. Their interactions outside of the Halls were few and far between and at the moment, Helen was not in the mood to verbally spar.
Especially not when his face had been the one in her mind when she had bought the dress.
"I am quite well," she said, "and how are you this evening? It is a bit early for drinking, don't you think?"
"Oh Helen, I believe the point of drinking is that you do a minimal amount of thinking."
Helen pursed her lips in disapproval and John felt his smile widen. He had been enthralled with Helen from the moment she strode into the classroom and sat down in front. The defiance written on the doll like features was a combination he was immediately entranced by. And when he disagreed with her point she immediately threw his words back. She believed in what she said and John Druitt was certain that no matter what she said she would fight for it until her last breath. She was refreshing, so unlike all the women he had shared the company of. And while he found himself completely enthralled, he also found himself more than slightly attracted to her.
"So, what was it this time?" he asked.
"I believe that is not your concern," she said as another group of men walked by, their laughter heightened by her presence, "and I must be on my way. I will see you in class. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Druitt."
She turned around, picking up her skirts and began to hobble down the street in the direction of her house. John watched her go, trying to decide what to do with the pink clad woman hobbling. Unfortunately this was not the nicest part of London and he knew there was all kinds of trouble she could get herself into. Oh he was equally sure that she could handle the trouble, he just knew that even if she was able to handle it, it would be nice to have another person there. Besides, with his presence, the rowdier of the men wouldn't even begin to trouble her. John looked back at his friends who laughed and motioned before he turned and looked at the woman hobbling away.
He turned and walked after her, quickening his pace and using his longer limbs to close their difference.
"I am afraid my gentlemanly pride could not allow me to let a creature as lovely as you to hobble into the night," he said, "I will escort you home."
"While I appreciate the sentiment," she said, "the gesture is unnecessary."
"Oh come Helen," he said with a smile, "one of us can catch our--"
Exactly what he was going to say was lost because cobblestones and mud were not an ideal combination. Helen's left ankle had decided it had enough for the day and it buckled under her weight. WIth a startled gasp she threw out her hands, grasping the closest thing that would keep her on her feet. That thing, unfortunately, happened to be the lapels of John's coat. His hands streaked out, steadying her on her feet. It was her feet that were the problem though and John shifted his arms so they fully wrapped around her form. Helen's head flew up, embarrassment staining her cheeks as she realized that walking home was most likely going to be problematic.
"My apologies--" she began, stammering the words out.
It was his fault really. He did smell very nice and when she was flustered, he only found it adorable. A wide smile split his face and Helen felt as though she wanted nothing more than for the earth to open and swallow her whole. He smiled down at her, clearly enjoying having her in her arms and Helen knew, with horrible certainty that her her face was far darker than her dress.
"Well it seems you have a use for me after all," he told her.
"I have a--John!" Helen shrieked as he hooked one leg under her arms and the other around her shoulders as he swept her right off her feet, "John put me down!" she cried.
"And have you crawl home? Don't be ridiculous," he said.
"I do not live around here!"
"And I assure you I can make the journey fine," he said stepping across the street, "now where do you live?"
Even with the lace of the dress, he seemed to have no trouble carrying her. Helen looked up at him as he walked down the street, clearly expecting her to tell him where to turn. Helen couldn't figure out what she was to do with her arms. One of her hands was still in his lapel, her other dangling next to him.
"Helen, this will be a far easier task if you put your arm around my neck," he told her as if reading her mind.
"Oh, right, I'm sorry," she stammered, reaching up and looping her arms shyly around his neck, "this street, right here."
John nodded and turned down the street. It took them almost an hour to get to her house, which was in a far better section of London. But John never showed his weariness or commented on how heavy she was. Helen was too embarrassed to make conversation and John seemed content to be quiet. When they arrived at her home, it was almost fully dark outside, the lamps slowly being lit around them. Helen pointed towards a townhouse and John walked towards it. He st
"Would you like to come in?" Helen offered, "I took you from your friends, I can at the very least offer you a drink--or food if you would care to join me for dinner?"
"I would like nothing more," he said, "but I do have a condition."
"And it is?"
"You must allow me to see to your ankle," he said She looked at him, "I am not in the practice of leaving my patience without the full extent of my care," he said.
"Well, I would hate for you to break your practice," she said, "so I agree to your terms."
John nodded as he walked up the steps to the doors. Helen raised her fist and knocked on the door with the brass knocker. After a few moments, a woman came to the door. She was dressed simply but in cloths that were made for a good deal of abuse. Her eyes widened when she took in the sight of Helen and John, her fingers tightening on the door as she tried to figure out what she was going to do.
"Miss Magnus!" she cried, "what happened?" her eyes went to John.
"It is nothing to be concerned with, Jane," she said, "Mr. Drutt has taken excellent care of me. He will also be joining me for dinner," Jane nodded and stepped aside, "has my father returned?"
"Not yet, Miss, he left word that you should not expect him until tomorrow at the earliest."
"Thank you," Helen said.
"Watch your head," John said. Helen leaned forward as he walked through the doors.
"My father's office is down the hall. There are supplies in there."
John nodded and took her down the hallway to where her father's office was. It functioned mostly as a workplace for his research and when he needed to treat a patient not at his practice. John walked through. A cabinet held medical supplies while there was a bed and two chairs. John walked over to the chair and placed her in one. He sat down in the other and picked up her ankle, holding it in his hand. He undid the buttons of her boot and pulled it off to reveal her stocking clad foot. He raised his eyes to hers.
"Your stocking," he said.
"Well you are going to have to leave the room," she said. He looked at her, "I am not about to take my stocking off in front of you."
"No standing," he said setting her ankle watched him leave.
John stood outside the room, hands in his pockets. The Magnus home was a beautiful one. It was elegant but understated elegance, the kind that it took effort to create. It was also incredibly clean, though he had a feeling that was far more because of Jane and people paid to make it that way than because either of the Magnus's were adept at cleaning. There really was no way he could have seen the night going this way when he had joined Tesla and the others in a nightly romp through the underbelly of London.
"You can come in," Helen called to him.
John turned and opened the door, walking back into the room. Helen was still sitting on the chair, her stockings nowhere to be seen. She had removed her other boot and both her feet were exposed, one stockinged, one not. The bare one was on top of the chair. John came back over and grasped her ankle, raising it as he sat on the chair. He held her ankle in his hands, his fingers examining the joint for any sign of a break.
"You're very good at this," Helen said as he moved his hands up the expanse of her ankle.
"My father," he said, "he is a doctor. I learned by watching until I was old enough to be taught," he was quiet for a moment, concentrating, "I think you have only sprained it. I will need to bandage it."
"The cabinet, over there," she said.
Helen nodded as he set her foot on the chair and walked over to the cabinet, opening it and pulling out two neat rolls of bandages. He walked back to where she was sitting and pulled her foot into his lap. Deftly he bandaged her foot, wrapping the linen around it. They were both quiet as she looked at his hands. They were sure and deft, clearly knowing what they were doing as they fixed her ankle. John tied off the bandages and moved his hands away from her ankle. Helen went to move it away but he laid a hand on her foot.
"Surely the daughter of a doctor knows to elevate an injury," he said.
"Of course," Helen said, "I only wished to free your lap."
"So anxious to get rid of me?" he looked at her, "I'm hurt."
"No, its--its not that," she stumbled over words, "you did leave your friends. I simply thought you would be anxious to return to them."
"I dare say I prefer your company to those of a group of drunken belligerents," he said.
Helen blushed as he lifted her foot up and crossed his legs, placing it down on top of his knee.
"So tell me, Helen, what creature possessed you to run through the mud in such a beautiful dress?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Oh it was the strangest thing I have ever seen. I tried to approach it but it took off before I could properly make contact. So I pursued it on foot," she looked down at her ankle, "with limited success."
"Limited? I would not have figured you an optimist."
"Well of course there was some success. I now know the creature dwells in the woods and that it is very quick but not agile. So next time, when I pursue it, the capture will be far easier," she said.
Her heart fell when John laughed. Suddenly Helen did not feel very competent or smart or pretty, all she felt like was a fool. John Druitt was being very nice but she felt that he was probably being nice because she was a woman. He was probably going to be brutal when they met in class on monday. She looked down at her skirts, staring hard at the mud, hoping that she could stop the tears that she felt threatening her eyes. Or at the very least that she could hold them back until he left the room.
"What a woman you are, Helen Magnus," he said. Helen's head flew up, tears forgotten, "most would run in the opposite direction but you not only pursue, you are diligent in your pursuit."
"You must think me extremely foolish," she said.
"A little slow, perhaps," he said, "might I suggest next time you dress for the pursuit? Boots without heels would be an excellent place to begin."
"You're teasing me," she said, though her own smile betrayed her amusement.
"Teasing? Hardly," she raised an eyebrow, "i was merely offering a suggestion as to how you could best accomplish your goal," she continued to look at him, "even I am not brave enough to tease the great Helen Magnus," he said, though his smile betrayed the words he spoke.
Helen smiled and shook her head.
"The great Helen Magnus?" she repeated, "that sounds rather, I don't know, egotistical. Don't you think?"
"Oh I don't know about that," he said, "perhaps it is only egotistical if one refers to themselves in such a manner."
"Miss Magnus?" there was a knock on the door, "dinner is ready."
"Thank you Jane," Helen said looking at John, "well, am I permitted to walk to dinner?"
"I suppose," he said, "but only if you permit me to escort you."
"If you insist," she said as he stood, offering his arm. Helen placed hers on his as he turned his hand, gripping hers and accepting a good deal of her weight on his arm.
"You will, however, have to give me directions. I'm afraid I do not yet know my way around your house."
"Yet?" she asked.
"Well I assume you are going to invite me over, when you are not injured," he said. She smiled but did not deny, "I have three particular friends in mind who I believe you would get along famously with."
"You know, it is a very good thing I do not follow social convention," Helen told him, "or this would be quite scandalous."
"Oh Helen," he said, "I believe you will be causing scandals for many years to come."
Please review! Remember though that Helen's not the hardened monster hunter and John's not psychotic. They aren't even abnormal yet. Right now they're young and defiant and she's got a tiny bit of a crush on him and he thinks she's rather fascinating.
But review--please review! You know you want to.