Helena was feeling warm.
She was pretty sure it was mostly the tequila. And a little bit due to her full stomach, which she internally credited to Myka with immense appreciation; the moment Myka had noted the flush to Helena's cheeks, she had set yet another sandwich to grill, and Helena had gratefully accepted it with a kiss to the back of her lover's knuckles when Myka laid it before her.
Myka had declined any more of the alcohol after their second shot, reasoning that she felt more comfortable explaining things to Savannah with a relatively clear head. Savannah had understood, but insisted that she needed a drinking partner, so Helena had been "volunteered" and Savannah had poured her another drink before Helena could think to protest.
Three additional shots and a couple hours later, and Helena was feeling decidedly… warm.
She had spent a great deal of the discussion simply observing the young woman who had, somehow or another – and they weren't yet clear on how – found her way to the Warehouse. Helena found that Savannah had accepted the information as graciously as one could, but even so, she'd promptly necessitated another shot when Myka broached the subject of Braid's manuscript, and, upon downing it, she abruptly announced, "That's creepy, Myka! I feel like aliens are invading my brain!"
"I know," Myka conceded gently. "But we're going to take care of it, so I don't want you to worry about it, okay?"
Savannah rolled her eyes and shot Helena a look which clearly relayed that, despite Myka's best intentions, not worrying was not an option for the younger woman. Helena had smiled back at her with a composite of sympathy and amusement, but continued to evaluate the girl when Myka began to delve into the subject of the violin bow that had been safely tucked into Savannah's room upstairs.
Savannah's words were now becoming bolder with the alcohol in her system, but Helena had thus far discerned that Myka's younger cousin was a kind woman with a strong playful quality to her, which (she could interpret from Myka's occasionally disapproving glances) had gotten her into a spot of trouble or two in the past. She was patient while Myka gathered her thoughts, and quiet with contemplation as Myka spoke – though not so much with the quiet when she formed her replies; that might have been the alcohol, but Helena believed that the woman simply had a flair for the flamboyant. Savannah hadn't broken into any trances since Artie had departed, and Helena found that without the discomfiting stupors, the girl was rather entertaining company. And the banter that she and Myka exchanged had positively humored Helena into several bouts of laughter, which Myka had grinned at bemusedly.
"Helena?" Myka pried, smiling gently and lifting her brow, and Helena got the very distinct impression that Myka had called for her attention at least once already. "Are you alright?"
"Wonderful, darling," Helena replied, a swift grin lifting her mouth as her tongue rounded off the edges of her words in tribute to her intoxication. "However, I'm afraid I might've indulged in a drink too many."
"Lightweight," Savannah teased.
"I'm certain that these beverages have increased in potency since my time, love," Helena offered, amused, but then she frowned and faced Myka. "Bollocks," she murmured earnestly. "My tongue seems to have escaped me, Myka. I'm sorry."
"It's okay. She's going to like that part," Myka assured with a caring smile, reaching beneath the table to place her hand over Helena's thigh, soothingly rubbing her hand over Helena's jeans, and, despite herself, Helena hummed her contentment.
Savannah smirked at the noise, and Helena fought the overwhelming, childish urge to poke out her tongue, but chuckled softly to herself at the silly thought that had pervaded her inebriated mind, and instead lowered her hand to tighten around Myka's.
Myka launched into a brief (and absurdly simplified) account of the bronzing process and went on to explain that, via an ex-Warehouse agent gone rogue, Helena had been liberated from her metal prison three years prior.
"So how old are you?" Savannah asked, head cocked to the side with curiosity.
Helena's lips parted to speak, but she never gave voice to words.
"Really?" Myka saved her from the blundered response that Helena had no doubt would have emerged from her mouth. "That's your first question?" Myka quipped dryly.
"Mykey," Savannah huffed, "I'm on information overload at the moment, so give me a break, sweetheart."
Myka laughed, and remarked enigmatically, "You don't even know the half of it, bug."
With an exasperated tone of incredulity, Savannah asked, "How can there possibly be more?" She gestured toward Helena using the bottle of tequila that she'd just poured another two shots with, and added, "She's a fucking time-traveller!"
"She's also H.G. Wells," Myka snorted indelicately as she imparted the jarring information.
"Come again?" Savannah demanded, shifting forward with reddened cheeks.
"H.G. Wells," Myka repeated, nodding.
Savannah turned to face her with a scrupulous eye, and Helena offered her an even smile. "Take a moment, love," she said cheekily. "Your cousin required a jiffy to ah – process the knowledge, as well, didn't you, darling?" She grinned at Myka, who rolled her eyes.
"It's a big deal," Myka mumbled in her own defense.
"Did you call her a lightweight?" Savannah asserted suddenly. "Because I just called H.G. Wells a lightweight, and I'm thoroughly…" Savannah blustered for a word that wouldn't come, and she puffed her irritation and disbelief.
"Mortified?" Myka supplied with a grin.
"Yes!" Savannah exclaimed. "Oh God," she mourned, throwing the awaiting shot back, and shoving the other filled glass in Helena's direction. Helena eyed it thoughtfully, sure that she shouldn't have another, but at the expectant look that Savannah cast her, she sighed, and followed suit.
"I held her at gunpoint," Myka shared reluctantly, scrunching her face up in a manner that Helena simply found adorable.
"On more than one occasion, as I recall," Helena smirked her amusement.
"You held a gun to H.G. Wells?" Savannah hissed. "Myka, that's like… blasphemy!"
"Well she was – " Myka began to blunder over a defense.
"I don't care if she just shot the fucking Pope, Mykey! That is not okay!" Savannah declared emphatically, and Helena erupted with laughter.
"I'm afraid I well earned Myka's threats," Helena proclaimed. "Additionally, your cousin happens to be rather delightfully inclined toward the assertive, so I might have enjoyed those interactions a bit more than I ought to have, love," she winked at Savannah and chortled at Myka's ensuing protestation at her naughty indication.
"You're dating H.G. Wells!" Savannah cried, as though that particular tidbit had escaped her prior to that moment. "Mykey, that's – well, it's just fucking poetic, but you're dating H.G. Wells!"
"Watch your mouth," Myka ordered with a disapproving lilt. Helena recalled that she had allowed for the obscenity once, but she presumed that Myka had restrained herself from commenting due to the shock that Savannah had suffered.
Helena watched, thoroughly entertained, as Savannah shrank slightly in her seat under Myka's censure. She then grumbled a quick apology, before she straightened herself again, regarding Helena with a clear expression of wonder, and blurted, "I'm drinking tequila with H.G. Wells." And then she looked over at Myka with pure glee, and announced, "Mykey, I love it here. Can we stay? Please?"
Myka laughed, and whispered conspiratorially in Helena's ear, "I told you she'd like that part."
But Helena, in her alcohol-induced fog, trembled as her lover's warm breath tickled over her neck and promptly shivered down her spine to settle in a place that was not appropriate to dwell on with Savannah's keen eyes in attendance. Myka lifted her brow in intrigue, but said nothing as she returned her attentions to her cousin. Helena bit her tongue against a swift swear as Myka's hand drew just slightly, tantalizingly up her thigh, but Helena raked in a breath and tried to calm herself, because it was obvious in the slight smirk on Myka's face that her partner had no intention of indulging Helena in more than a tease – at least for the moment.
"Is that everything?" Savannah asked, a wary trepidation coating her words, because Helena suspected that she had nearly reached her limit on world-shifting information for the evening, and she had little doubt that – with as much alcohol as they had jointly consumed – it was more than likely a bit difficult to take in.
Myka gnawed her lip thoughtfully, and nodded, "I think so. It's the important stuff, anyway."
"Jesus, Mykey," Savannah shook her head with incredulity. "I knew you were hiding some stuff about your job, but I just thought it was some top-secret government thing that you couldn't tell me about."
"Well… it kind of is," Myka pointed out.
"Well, yeah, but… supernatural government stuff!" Savannah huffed.
"I'm sorry," Myka intoned softly. "I just… didn't want you involved in anything that could put you in danger," she finished weakly.
Helena watched while Savannah evaluated her cousin, drawing her lip between her teeth again – and Helena almost groaned, because the motion had her recalling a distinct memory of Myka doing the same as she made a fruitless attempt to stifle her screams as Helena had taken her against the tile of the shower earlier that day.
"I'm going to forego being mad at you for lying through your damn teeth about your work for four years," Savannah decided. "But I need you to promise not to yell when I tell you about how I got that violin bow. Deal?"
Myka eyed her cousin suspiciously, with an obvious frown that she made no effort to conceal.
Helena felt a bit of pity for Myka's younger cousin; she'd been on the receiving end of that particular look before, and though Myka reserved it for those she deeply cared for, that knowledge had not alleviated any of the anticipation that she'd experienced upon awaiting Myka's final judgment.
"Come now, my love," Helena proffered a gentle, though lazy and drunken smile, and a squeeze to Myka's hand, still at rest on her leg. "Grant her a kindness, hm? The offer is quite generous, and she's been a dear about this awful mess."
Myka sighed, and nodded. "Deal," she agreed.
Savannah spared an indebted glance in Helena direction, before she straightened her back and mumbled with relief, "Good." And then, abruptly and with a guilt-stricken countenance, she divulged, "I stole it."
Myka's frown deepened, and Helena dug her nails sharply into Myka's palm (a bit too sharply, she admitted privately upon Myka's brief wince, and swiftly chalked it to the devilish Mexican spirit that was tequila). The action, however, had served its purpose, and grounded Myka from her thoughts long enough for her to murmur speculatively, "You haven't done that in a long time."
"No," Savannah granted. "And, would you believe, Mykey – I was actually nervous," she shared, clearly irritated with that fact.
Myka rolled her eyes. "That's a good thing," she said pointedly.
"It absolutely isn't!" Savannah declared. "Whether I'm using the skill or not, the ability to do it can be very useful."
"Whatever," Myka puffed, and tugged her free hand through her curls. More calmly, she inquired, "Why did you take it?"
Savannah sighed and twirled her empty glass between slender, nimble fingers, and Helena found herself of the thought that her hands were, indeed, well-suited for an artist. "It was in my professor's office," Savannah ceded, and the topic of discussion clearly had the woman a bit sobered. "I went in to ask about the exam material, but Mykey…" she broke away, and a deep look of concentration descended over her features. "The way he was looking at it – " Savannah shook her head. "It was like that thing could destroy all of China, and he would be happy just to chill out and watch it burn."
"Chill out?" Helena raised a brow inquisitively, her inebriation failing to allow her the mental capacity that would have been required to process that this particular moment might not have been the best for a terminology lesson.
Savannah snorted her amusement. "Yeah, I guess being frozen in time for a century would be hell on the vocab, huh?"
"It's infuriating," Helena tousled her hair back with what could only be described as sass, and leaned dramatically against the back of her seat with a sulk that Myka swiftly bent to kiss away.
"It's what the kids say nowadays; it means kick back… uh – nope, that's no good, either. Mykey?" Savannah enlisted her cousin's assistance.
"It means relax," Myka aided with a soft smile.
"Ah," Helena nodded. "Odd," she mused. "I find it rather difficult to relax when I'm chilled."
"You never get chilled," Myka laughed. "How would you know?"
Helena shrugged dismissively.
"Anyway," Savannah resumed, "I'd never seen it in there before, and it just seemed weird. Professor Davidson's a nice guy, Mykey. I've never heard him say anything bad about anyone – disregarding a few misguided essay attempts by some of the kids in my class, and even then he was very kind about it. I asked him where he got it, but he got all defensive and said that someone mailed it to him because they wanted him to have it.
"So I skipped the class later in the week, since I knew he'd be busy with the lecture, and I took it," Savannah admitted, shifting her eyes to Myka sheepishly. "I didn't know it had special powers or anything!" She was quick to defend. "It was just creepy, and I didn't want some stupid violin bow that he didn't need whammying him with whatever weird juju had come over him."
"Whammying," Helena murmured to Myka. "Pete will be absolutely thrilled that she used that particular verb, love."
"Right?" Myka chuckled, but calmed moments after. She regarded Savannah with tolerance for a time that seemed to stretch longer than it ought to have, but when Myka spoke, she said simply, "Okay."
"Okay?" Savannah asked, dubious of Myka's acceptance of her explanation. Helena could see that she wasn't entirely certain why she'd been compelled to nick the object, either, and she was certain that Myka could note that as well.
"You weren't wrong," Myka acknowledged. "It was clearly affecting him, and the artifact seems to be pretty fond of you, so you probably didn't have as much choice in it as you think. And it doesn't really matter," Myka sighed. "Either way, you're here and have to keep an eye on it, so… Okay," she finished. And then, rejuvenated, she added pointedly, "Just don't steal anything else. It took a long time to break you of that habit."
"Yeah, yeah," Savannah shelved the matter, and poured another shot.
"None for me, darling," Helena quickly halted her as she lowered the bottle to the second glass. "I've had quite enough."
"Far be it from me to peer pressure H.G. freaking Wells," Savannah rolled her eyes, and sat back in her seat with a slight "humph," as she took the evening's revelations into account.