Author's Note: Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews, guys. Keep 'em coming, please! I'm in the process of typing the next chapter now.

Helena groaned in frustration as she peeked over her shoulder to examine her bare back in the mirror. Myka had left angry red marks that stretched horizontally across her spine, and as Helena recalled their intimate position from half an hour previous, she found herself wondering how she'd possibly allowed that heated moment to escape.

Myka had been a puddle of submissive goo beneath her, and even the memory of her dangerous moans had Helena feeling warm in places she was trying very hard to ignore.

Sighing as she tossed the rest of her clothes into a pile on the bathroom floor, Helena stepped into the shower, and hissed as the hot water sprayed against her small wounds. The sting, Helena would admit, felt delicious in ways that she probably ought to disregard, but couldn't.

She'd always been very aggressive sexually, but, though she'd pictured it in her head more times than could be counted, she had been surprised when Myka had responded in kind. Oh, but it had been such a lovely surprise.

She had always known that Myka was an impassioned creature, and had hoped so dreadfully that it would manifest in her sensuality, but despite how frenzied their kiss had been, it had not lasted long. Helena had thought that it would take much more to coax out anything quite that daring.

But Myka had needed. God, she'd needed. Helena had felt, in every moment of their embrace, how intensely Myka desired her. She had done many challenging things in her lifetime, but resisting Myka Bering had to have been one of the most difficult.

Myka had not been wrong; if her intention was to take the agent out before they engaged in any further intimate activities, she had best do it soon. Helena's resolve was wearing thin, and Myka's was nearing nonexistent.

She stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, reflecting on her options. Myka was a rarity in this time, she knew. Very few women now enjoyed novels as wholly as Myka did, and fewer still appreciated the art of theater. She didn't imagine that many of Myka's previous suitors had treated her to a night that satisfied both, or even either of those elements. And despite her yearnings, she did hope to show Myka a charming evening.

But Helena considered that perhaps a night at the theater might be an expected route for her to take. Myka might enjoy a meal and a film, and maybe even a drink or two.

With a great deal of annoyance, Helena grudgingly admitted to herself that she might need Claudia's help with this. The thought itself disturbed her, and the brat would be positively delighted with mocking Helena for requesting her assistance.

In spite of that, though, Helena would not chance ruining an evening out with Myka due solely to her own pride.

Helena resolved that she would, reluctantly, discuss the matter with Claudia.

She ruffled through her dresser, and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making her way to the redhead's decorative door. With a huff, she knocked a clenched fist against it.

When she opened the door, it was clear that Claudia was startled to see her.

Then she asked abruptly, "You still didn't sleep with her, right?"

Scowling, Helena slipped through the threshold as Claudia had done to her a week before. But instead of plopping against her bed like a Neanderthal, Helena seated herself in the armchair beside it.

"I was just asking," Claudia grumbled. Then, seriously, "Is she okay?"

Softening, knowing Claudia's concern, Helena nodded. "She is. She was clearly a bit shaken when she woke alone, but she was calm when I left her. Sort of."

"Sort of?" Claudia prodded.

"She was… flustered," Helena replied, unable to keep a hint of a smirk from touching her lips.

"Oh, jeez, so didn't need to know that!" Claudia threw her hands into the air exasperatedly.

"You did ask," Helena reminded serenely.

"Because you led me into it!" Claudia defended. "Whatever," she blustered. "If things went that well, then what are you doing here?"

Helena sighed, and tousled a hand through her hair. "I find myself in a bit of a pickle."

"I love pickles," Claudia grinned, clapping exuberantly.

"Myka has agreed to allow me to take her on a date," Helena began.

"Duh," Claudia rolled her eyes and moved to the bed. "Though I'm a little surprised that you held out long enough to ask for one. Kudos," she smiled widely.

"Yes, well, that has proven to be a very trying task," Helena informed.

Claudia snorted. "I bet it has. Myka's all about the sexual tension whenever you're involved. And vice versa, by the way."

"You do make such a habit of pointing out the obvious," Helena frowned.

"Hey, with the two of you, I wasn't really given much of a choice. You, especially, seemed determined to ignore what was smack in front of that little British nose of yours," Claudia leaned forward and tapped her on the nose, and Helena smacked the hand away immediately with a lethal glower.

Claudia continued to grin, but allowed it to fall away as she watched Helena ponder over her situation with a solemn look to her face.

"Hey," the redhead called her attention softly, "listen, Myka loves you. She doesn't care about a stupid night on the town. But she knows it's important to you, so just… you know, take her somewhere nice where you can talk and have a good time, and maybe shelve the sexy bits for a little while. I know that's hard," she smiled again, though Helena noted with sincere affection that Claudia was not teasing her, and was instead offering an honest sympathy, "particularly with all of the foreplay the two of you have had building up to this, but you guys just need to remember the part where you're friends, too. That'll probably make it a little easier not to jump her bones from across the dinner table."

With a great deal of emotional turmoil, Helena confessed on a sigh, "I fear that I won't live up to Myka's expectations of me."

"Myka doesn't have expectations, HG," Claudia replied. "All she's ever wanted from this is to be with you. So just be with her. Don't make it more complicated than that. You two have it kinda easy, if you think about it. You don't have to play the get-to-know-you game. You already know her. And you already know she's crazy about you. Just let her have you," Claudia advised, then scrunched her nose. "I so did not mean that the way it sounded, I swear."

Helena smiled, and, in a rare moment of tenderness for the girl, she hugged her.

"Oh! Okay," Claudia said awkwardly, patting a hand against Helena's shoulder clumsily, well aware that though they did share a relationship that was deeper than either of them liked to admit, touching was an oddity for them, and it spoke volumes of Helena's appreciation.

"Thank you, Claudia," she said gently, and pressed a kiss against the girl's cheek. "You've been very helpful. And I value, more than I can say, that you resisted the urge to poke fun at me."

Claudia shrugged. "You asked for help. If I poked fun, you wouldn't do it anymore, and it makes me feel all special and mushy inside," she grinned.

"So sweet you can be, when you're not grating against my every nerve," Helena said playfully.

"I was being serious, though," Claudia informed. "Myka's been, like, stupid tense lately. Just let her relax with you for a while."

"Despite our objectives, I find that Myka and I have been doing very little relaxing in each other's presence as of late," Helena voiced, clearly dissatisfied with her current state of sexual frustration.

"Hey, woah," Claudia puffed. "Dude, I'm totally for helping out and playing Cupid, but I don't need to know all the sexy chunks. That's in Pete's wheelhouse."

Helena groaned. "Pete," she murmured, as though suddenly remembering a forgotten something that would come back to bite her in the ass.

Claudia laughed uproariously. "Pete doesn't know about any of this, does he?"

"I'm afraid I was a bit preoccupied with other things. It's not as though it's been going on for all that long, I'll remind you."

"Oh, man, you're gonna get some special kinda third degree," Claudia grinned.

Helena raised a brow.

"Aw, c'mon," Claudia said exasperatedly. "If anyone knows how depressed Myka was after Wisconsin, it's Pete. He can be crazy protective when he needs to be. He likes you, though, so that helps – and he's got all that vibeage going on with you two – but he's still gonna grill you."

"I suppose that's a conversation I ought to get out of the way before this evening, then?" Helena asked, raising a brow.

"You're taking her out tonight?" Claudia asked, straightening. "Do I needa get, like, earplugs or something?"

"I hope to take her out this evening, yes. I'm not sure that either of us could stand for a longer wait. And I suppose if it makes you more comfortable, you could invest in a pair of earplugs," Helena shrugged easily. "I have found, thus far, that Myka can be quite… expressive. And I very infrequently exercise modesty in that particular field."

"So that's a yes to the earplugs, then," Claudia glared, but couldn't help a bit of a smirk when Helena's eyes grew momentarily hazy. She shook her head. "Man, Myka has no idea what she's getting herself into."

Helena found Pete in the kitchen, not surprisingly, after bidding Claudia a good day and thanking her a second time.

"HG!" He exclaimed through a mouthful of a scone, after spotting her in the doorway. "Fanna muffin?" He pulled one from a bag that had clearly come from the bakery. "Boobewwy!" He said, swallowing, then he grinned, "It's your favorite!"

He wafted the muffin in front of Helena's face, and she accepted it kindly. "Good morning, Pete," she greeted, understanding very little of what he'd just said.

"It is a good morning!" He said. "Except for that I don't think Myka got much sleep. I heard something going on in her room earlier, so I bought her…" he inserted a drumroll with a rolling motion of his tongue, "a breakfast sandwich! And I got her that cinnamon coffee she likes, too! She's gonna love me."

"She didn't sleep well," Helena disclosed, then took a soft breath. "She and I had a rather lengthy discussion last night."

Pete squinted his eyes, and said, with a clear voice of wonder, "You're sharing."

"I'm testing the waters," Helena corrected.

"Stranger and stranger this conversation grows, young Jedi," Pete launched himself up onto the counter and swung his feet like a young boy, the heels of his shoes tapping against the cupboards beneath.

"Pardon?"

"Star Wars, HG!" He bellowed out. "It's, like, an international pastime and it's only the most awesome series ever created!"

Helena simply raised a brow at him.

"Seriously?" Pete spluttered, and then, following a continued blank stare from the British woman, he rolled his eyes. "We really have to up our game on the 21st century educational front. I'll show you sometime. Anyway, you were saying about a talk you had with Myka?"

"Yes," Helena agreed slowly. "We were discussing your visit to Wisconsin."

"Oh," Pete said softly, looking down, before he nodded. "I guess you guys had that one coming."

"We did," Helena granted.

"Did you – you know…? I mean, did she tell you?" Pete blundered.

"If you mean to ask if she told me about her feelings for me, then yes, she did," Helena replied.

"You didn't do anything stupid, did you?" Pete asked. "Because she's been upset enough lately, and she doesn't need anything else to worry about right now."

"I told Myka that I returned her sentiments," Helena said quietly, feeling guilty all over again for the hurt that she had brought upon her friend.

"Oh," Pete said. "Well, good! Then why so glum, author friend?"

Helena sighed. "I'm more than pleased with the way that things between Myka and I have been progressing," she said, "but I regret that Myka has had to suffer for it."

Pete frowned. "Look, sentimental isn't really my thing, but I know Myka, and she'd rather have you even if it did mean that she had to go through some crappy stuff to get there. That doesn't mean that you don't have some serious making up to do," he added swiftly, "but you shouldn't let that get in the way of letting both of you have what you want."

"I'm not certain that what I've done can be 'made up,'" Helena replied softly.

"Then don't make it up to her," Pete shrugged. "Just change it so it doesn't hurt her anymore. She's had enough of that."

"I know," Helena murmured shamefully. Shaking it off, she said, "I suppose I hoped that taking the proper precautions would relieve Myka of the stress of having to explain our present situation."

Pete chuckled. "You and Mykes have always had a thing for each other," he said. "Everyone knows that. I think – what with your constant disappearances and all – that everyone just wants to be sure that this is solid."

Helena did not miss Pete's unspoken question, and although sharing wasn't generally an activity that she often engaged in, obviously to Myka's exclusion, she recognized the importance of having Pete's support in their romantic endeavor. So she replied, with utter honesty, "Myka's afraid that I will abandon her, as I have in the past. That skepticism is well deserved," she sighed, "but I intend to dissuade her of it, with time."

"So you're gonna stay? No taking off into the night or whatever?" Pete pressed.

"Pete," Helena said quietly, "I've made many mistakes where Myka is concerned, and I'm mindful of how terribly I've damaged her – but I never left with the intention of doing so, and I certainly never anticipated how deeply she would grieve my absence. I couldn't have left if I'd known that. And I won't do so again."

Pete grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Good. Great! So how can I help?"

"Help?" Helena asked, bewildered.

"You know," Pete said, dragging out the 'w' as though waiting for Helena to fill in the blanks. When Helena so obviously failed to grasp his meaning, he elaborated, "I'm great at making dinner reservations. And I have a gooey spot for Mykes, so I could probably man up enough to get some rose petals or something."

"Oh, Christ," Helena scoffed. "Myka doesn't even like roses."

"Yes she does!" Pete argued, and then mumbled, embarrassed, "She just doesn't like red ones."

"She doesn't," Helena insisted. "She finds red roses to be trite, yes, but she believes that roses as whole are well overrated, and I happen to agree."

"Well I don't!" Pete defended. "I think they're nice. And, you know, romantic and stuff."

"That's lovely, Pete, except that we aren't discussing your preferences at the moment," Helena reminded.

"Fine. Fine!" Pete said, then pointed at her, "But you better come up with something nice for her, because if she's disappointed, you're gonna be in big trouble."

"I'm very well aware of the pressure to impress, thank you," Helena replied snappishly.

"Wow," Pete murmured, hopping down from the counter. Then, louder, "Wow! You're really nervous!"

"I don't get nervous," Helena recited automatically, then ran a hand through her hair with impatience. "I'm merely worried that, given our history, whatever I come up with will draw short of what Myka deserves."

"HG," Pete said, smiling and reaching out to hold her shoulders, "Myka's in love with you. Like, cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs in love. You don't need to dazzle her, or anything. Just treat her nice. C'mon," he said, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her to the front door. "Let's take a walk. You can throw some ideas my way, and I can trash 'em if they suck or something."

"I really don't think that's necessary," Helena tried.

"I wasn't really asking – it just sounded like I was because I was being so nice," Pete declared, making a sort of sorry-I-wasn't-clear face, and following it up with a grin.

Helena succumbed, after a sharp reminder to herself that she was doing this for Myka, and that made it worth the humiliation. She did, however, quickly shirk Pete's arm from her shoulders before she proceeded reluctantly, "I had thought that perhaps Myka would enjoy the theater."

"She would love that!" Pete exclaimed excitedly. "Plus, you'd actually know what was going on, and be able to understand her when she reviews it later, 'cause I'm pretty sure that they don't even speak English in those plays, so Myka says I'm useless."

"Yes, but that leaves very little room for any private discussion," Helena admitted. "And I'm not sure that it would be very original."

"Please," Pete rolled his eyes. "You don't get more original than that. No one wants to see plays anymore, and Myka would be ecstatic. But you're right about the talking part, so maybe you should save that for a second date. Hit me with some more."

"A film leaves the same problem," Helena said. "However, it is being strongly conveyed to me that Myka needs to relax, so I do wish to take her to dinner, and arrange for a nice bottle of wine."

"Good, good," Pete agreed, nodding. "What else?"

"There, I find myself flummoxed," she confessed. "I do hope to be creative, but I'm afraid I'm not sure how to proceed."

"Well, you're an inventor, right?" Peter said thoughtfully. "So creative is, like, your specialty! If you can't think of anything to impress her with that's already here, then make something else."

"That doesn't exactly leave me with much time," Helena returned doubtfully.

"Then what are you talking to me for?" Pete said, clapping his hands urgently. "Chop, chop, HG!"