(3)

Their breathing had evened out, bodies at ease, her fingers resting gently on his bare chest as they lay in her bed. Both were drained and slightly thrashed – but also satisfied.

"I took advantage of you." She whispered into his ear, "I'm sorry, John."

He covered the slender hand with his own, "If ever you feel the need to take advantage of me again, Helena – just ask." He smiled, his voice a gently teasing growl. His other hand and arm encircled her, softly stroking her naked back.

It had been a mad moment in time.

He came into Helena's quarters, saw her appearing miserable and emotionally exposed, and he walked over and held her. John told her everything would be righted, all would return to normal, but they needed her in Command Center. He gently explained what the child, that absurd alien intelligence, wanted. John also told her he knew how difficult it was going to be, and if there was any other way he would remove this burden from her and see to it that nothing like this would never happen again …

Then she looked up at him, her lovely eyes moist with emotion, passion, and an odd determination. Helena whispered, "I need you."

He did not immediately understand until her hand and agile fingers reached below his belt and touched him. "Helena …" He started, surprised and reluctant but also inexplicably aroused. "We can't do this now. We …"

"Yes … yes we can!"

And indeed they did. Clothes were dispensed with, bodies came together, fervent kisses were exchanged, and they both cried out – bodies and minds - with a mad desire.

It was crucial. Helena wanted something she trusted to hold onto, to stop the pain.

And, despite his words, John was willing to help her – and also help himself.

In the aftermath, holding her close, John Koenig remembered when he was young, still in high school. He was told by a worldly uncle to never take advantage of a girl when she was vulnerable. Women really did not understand what they were doing when hopelessly sad … but young John came to understand that while that was true with most there were a few girls – independent ladies – who knew exactly what they were doing. They were objective and part of that self-will was knowing what they wanted, when they wanted it and, despite conventional wisdom, they could love as deeply and permanently as those innocents his uncle told John to adore and protect.

Helena was a combination of both these type of women ... Odd, he thought, to discover the woman he loved was a conundrum of the best kind.

Koenig's comlock beeped and Helena moved to give him better access to the table where it was left, "Yes." He answered, disappointed by her absent warmth.

It was Maya, "Commander, the child is becoming insistent. She wants her mother."

He glanced at Helena as her eyes closed, coming to terms with the inevitable. "Tell it … We will be there very shortly."

The connection broke and Koenig wonder briefly if Maya could see he was lying in bed. It did not matter. Koenig saw and felt Helena sit up and he joined her. He placed the comlock on the sheet and his hands were gentle as they massaged her slender, burnished shoulders. Her beauty and strength, even under such circumstances, never ceased to amaze him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, knowing she was. He could practically feel her resolve.

Helena's eyes took in their clothes, the crumpled uniforms and discarded boots that were quickly dispensed with, as they lay on the floor around her bed. What, Helen suddenly wondered in what her lover might consider a moment of womanly vulnerability, would she do without John Koenig?

"Let's quickly shower and dress … then go to Command Center." Helena said and pushed the sheet aside.

To be continued ...