This, ah, might not be to some people's liking. I don't really like John very much (who am I kidding? I hate him) and I like him and Helen together even less so this might be a little dark and twisty and not at all some people's cup of tea. Fair warning, yeah?

That said, I in no way deny that they were in love and have a crazy history that will always be part of who Helen is...

To all my lovely reviewers, I would say "Here, have a Nikola shaped cookie!" but considering I just made a batch of Nikola moustache cookies, I'll offer you one of those instead... For clarification, see my super cool avatar :P

Enjoy

PS: Who's excited for tomorrow's Sanctuary Twitter Tag? I AM! :D

xx

John:

He was her first love. He was everything she needed in a man. Strong, controlled, intelligent, loving, attentive. Murderous. He loved her. She knew he did and she loved him for loving her. He was the perfect lover. He wasn't as stuffy as James or as inappropriate as Nigel, he was perfect.

He had loved her.

She'd wondered for a time if she'd ever loved him. Actually loved him not what he stood for. And she did, she knew she did and as much as she wished she hadn't she was immensely glad she had. He had given her something beyond her wildest dreams.

She had loved him.

He still loved her, she knew he did, she didn't need him to say it. There was a part of her that would always belong to him, a part of her that would love her until she died. She'd spent nearly 30 years waiting for love. Waiting for someone to sweep her off her feet, to romance her in the way her few female companions had been. She'd wanted it so very badly but could never admit it out loud. Never had she told anyone of her need to be female, of her desire to be someone's something. The pain of believing she'd never find that kind of love had torn her up inside. In truth that's why she forced herself into her work with such vigour. It wasn't that she didn't attract men, it was that none of them actually desired all of her. She was smart and she knew it. So did they. Sometimes she wondered if that was the problem, if the fact that she was so aware of her intelligence that no one could ever love her.

She had hazy memories of her parents and their love. Her father had been a resolute scientist, his attention only captured by his work. Unless her mother was in the room. Her mother was a powerful woman. She wasn't a scientist but she was fiercely intelligent in her own way. She was quick, full of humour, ready to burst forth at any moment. And she captured Gregory's attention without so much as a second thought. All she had to do was walk into the room and he was mesmerized.

That's what she wanted. Someone who would stare at her for all the right reasons.

And he did. He truly did. He loved all of her. From her fierce interest in science right through to those moments when she'd collapse into tears in his arms. He loved her.

But he didn't love her.

He wanted her to be his. She was a perfect gem for him. Unique and untameable. Something most men admired from afar, shaking their heads at the few men brave enough to challenge the woman they affectionately referred to as "the shrew."

She knew they said it, she wasn't deaf. Their thinly veiled references to that damn play had made her even more determined at first. She'd walked past them, head held high as she tore past them. It had been weeks before the tears had started. Not that they had ever seen them.

But then John loved her and it didn't matter. She threw herself into his affections with a force that was exactly equivalent to the way she felt about him. She was his and that was all that mattered.

He was hers too but it was different. At first he'd objected to the phrase, claiming that neither of them belonged to anyone except themselves (he really was something of a progressive thinker) but one night, as they were sitting by the fire, he'd admitted that yes, he was in fact one of 'her boys.' She'd giggled and he'd nuzzled her cheek as he pulled her closer.

"But only on one condition. You have to be my girl."

And while she didn't like the idea of being called a girl, she'd nodded and then kissed him. The next night he'd proposed and mentally she'd upgraded him from 'her boy' to 'her soon-to-be husband.' Not that it had stopped her father from referring to him as one of the boys.

John was her boy but he was so much more too.