It hadn't been twenty minutes after she and Myka had finished up their conversation with Savannah before Pete and Claudia had marched into the kitchen demanding a movie night in honor of Savannah's arrival. Myka had offered weak protests that Savannah needed sleep (and, really, they all did – because it was already past eleven), but Savannah had swiftly dismissed the notion and declared that she had not yet arrived to the sleepy stage of her inebriation, and would be more than happy to watch a movie with them.
So Helena (who found that she was also rather alert, for the time being) had consented to a late-night showing of what Pete had called Star Wars.
As Pete began to explain the premise of the plot (with assistance from an eager Claudia), Myka had settled herself on the loveseat, and gestured for Helena to do the same. So Helena had complied, and swiftly found herself purring as Myka encouraged Helena against her with her back to the armrest, and Helena tucked comfortably against her front.
And despite her cozy new station against Myka, Helena paid rapt attention to Pete's delivery of the very complex storyline, nodding her comprehension when Pete finished a rather lengthy rant (which had digressed on several occasions) and asked if she had "kept up." When the film began to play, however, Helena frowned deeply and cocked her head to the left in bemusement.
"Episode IV?" She questioned. "I fail to understand why we are not beginning at the beginning," she declared, her voice the sheer embodiment of annoyance.
"Because," Pete sighed, exasperated as his thumb jammed against the 'pause' button of the remote that he had battled Claudia for possession of – to Steve's great suffering, as he had been quite literally hauled between the two prior to the scuffle. "This is the first Star Wars movie that George Lucas filmed. He's the director," he expanded, upon receiving a blank stare from Helena at the name.
"But why ever would they begin in the heart of the saga?" Helena inquired, soothed only mildly by the low chuckle that Myka breathed into her ear. "It's simply irrational!"
"That's what I said," Myka puffed her agreement. "See, Pete!" She proclaimed triumphantly. "It's not a stupid question!"
"Because it's the first in the original trilogy!" Pete emphatically overrode her. "Jeez, you and Myka just have no appreciation for – "
"I have a rather resilient appreciation for numbers, Agent Lattimer," Helena interrupted to share, and some of her words melted together in testament to what she now realized had been entirely too much tequila. "And despite my present state, I remain reasonably certain that one precedes four," she announced conclusively.
"Aw, sweet!" Claudia exclaimed abruptly, scrambling from her position directly in front of the television to drape her arms over the edge of the loveseat and rest her chin atop them as she regarded HG with a look of incredulity painted in her eyes. "You're drunk! Mykes, she's drunk!" And Claudia looked absolutely thrilled by that concept, for reasons that Helena couldn't possibly have speculated on in her condition.
"I know," Myka laughed softly. "It's… sweet," she eventually decided, but Helena could hear in Myka's tone that the word she'd really wanted to employ had been 'cute,' and Helena smirked her small victory to the floor.
"That'd be the tequila, sweetheart," Savannah grinned satisfactorily with an unconcealed wink in Claudia's direction from her curled post at the corner of the larger sofa that sat perpendicular to theirs. "And how was I to know that H.G. Wells couldn't hold her liquor?" She added, feigned innocence coating every contour of her expression.
"No way! Dude!" Claudia rounded to face Myka's cousin. "You're my hero! Like, slap a cape on and I'll hereby deem you magical!"
Helena made to impress her disdain for Savannah's remark as the young brunette's laughter pealed through her lips, but Myka chuckled and playfully tightened her fingers over Helena's sides. "Grant her a kindness, hm?" She reiterated Helena's words from earlier in the evening, her voice a teasing whisper of warmth that lingered beneath Helena's ear. And then, as though the taunt had never been there, Myka crooned sympathetically, "It's not like she gets to meet and intoxicate H.G. Wells every day, honey."
Helena hummed, because, truly, she'd mostly forgotten about the younger woman's quip the moment that she had felt Myka's touch at her waist, and at Myka's fond use of Helena's favored endearment, she found herself incapable of voicing any objections at all to anything regarding her present situation; she was quite content reclined in Myka's embrace, and the fuzzy heat that the alcohol had provided only left her desiring more of Myka's affections, so she burrowed deeper into her lover, and decisively took hold of Myka's wrists to snugly ring her partner's arms around her stomach.
"So freakin' precious. I could just eat you two up. Chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp," Claudia grinned, and promptly scurried back to the television before Helena could enact her rapid desire to whack the red from Claudia's hair.
"Let's just…. watch the movie," Steve suggested warily, and Helena was sure that he had taken note of Helena's halfheartedly lethal intent.
"Finally!" Pete exclaimed eagerly, smashing the 'play' button to resume the film that he had paused in order to answer a question, which, Helena was certain, Pete thought to be inane – or, at least, he would… but Helena wasn't entirely sure that he knew the definition of the word, so perhaps he just thought her inquiries silly.
And Helena rolled her eyes at the inanities that her own mind had just produced. She'd never truly been suited for the stronger spirits, preferring to indulge in a glass of wine or, on special occasions, a sparkling flute of champagne, and she mentally applauded herself for her ever improving executive decisions, because clearly (and Helena audibly huffed at the thought) she had no business imbibing that much tequila.
"Is something wrong?" Myka queried softly at the upset noise, carding her fingers through Helena's hair and lovingly folding it behind her ear.
"No, darling," Helena sighed quietly. "My thoughts are running away from me, I think. Would you…?"
"What is it, Helena?" And though Helena couldn't see her lover's face, she could hear in the tone of Myka's voice that she was concerned.
"Just hold me here, Myka," Helena murmured, and though a vague corner of her mind lifted a haughty eyebrow and frowned at the inebriated plea, the rest of her felt needy and affectionate, and the touches of arousal that had been flickering on-and-off all evening felt decidedly off, because all she wanted was to feel Myka's tenderness in the brush of her fingers, and to feel her partner's love in the protective swathe of Myka's arms around her waist. "Don't let go, darling," she whispered gently, catching Myka's wrist in her palm and drawing it to her mouth for a caring kiss that lingered on Myka's flesh, before artfully replacing it to its former position just beneath her ribs. "I find myself in a rather sentimental mood, I'm afraid."
"I like it," Myka replied affectionately, smiling against her ear before slanting a sweet kiss against the juncture of Helena's neck and shoulder and nuzzling into Helena's hair with her nose, and Helena sighed her absolute gratification.
It took another hour for the room's occupants to settle in comfortably enough to get through a decent scene without having to rewind the movie. Pete had cried out five minutes in that he'd forgotten the popcorn, and while he bolted to the kitchen to remedy his mistake (prompting a rewind), Claudia tinkered with something on her computer that occupied her through one of her favorite parts (prompting a second rewind), and Savannah – well, Savannah kept a running commentary of the entire film, which Helena found most entertaining (and that prompted several rewinds). Helena's amusement, in conjunction with Savannah's, had extracted several humored looks of fondness from Myka (which Helena internally basked in), and a few chuckles from Steve, not to mention the violent hushing of "shh!" noises that indicated Pete and Claudia's discontent (which Helena breezily thought they deserved, because wasn't it always the two of them who were disrupting her every enjoyable moment with Myka?).
And an hour after things had calmed, Helena blearily widened aching eyes, grumbling her immense dissatisfaction into Myka's chest, and internally condemning the loud, impassioned noise that had awoken her to the fieriest depths of hell.
"Pete!" She heard Myka hiss admonishingly. "I know that it's Star Wars, okay? But she's drunk and it's late, and she's allowed to sleep."
"Though evidently it is impermissible to remain in such a state," Helena lifted her head, and even with her eyes squinted, her scowl was remarkably discernable.
Pete winced.
"Knew she was defiant," Savannah grinned, vindicated. And then she promptly yawned.
"Honey," Myka cooed, and the love in her voice had Helena fighting off the woozy sleep that was adamantly summoning her into darkness, because she always yearned for more of that emotion from Myka Bering, "can I take you to bed?"
"Any time you like, darling," emerged Helena's automatic reply, and even through her alcohol-induced haze, she could hear the seductive lilt to her words, and she laughed, because she was simply too tired for any sort of seduction at all. Though, if Myka offered, she could probably have mustered a little energy…
"Incorrigible," Myka husked over a chortle. "Come on," she said softly, easing Helena upward until she could slip from behind her, and Helena smiled obliquely when Myka stretched her hands out in a silent request for Helena to place hers within them. She complied, and allowed Myka to pull her up, though her movements when standing upright were categorically uncoordinated and sluggish. "Let's get you and Savannah to sleep, okay?"
Helena pouted theatrically. "I have no desire to sleep with your cousin, darling. I wish to sleep with you."
Claudia simply exploded with laughter, and Helena frowned, because she didn't quite understand the humor in the matter at all, but she swiftly found that she didn't much care.
"Way to kill my ego and spirit, Wells," Savannah sighed histrionically.
"It's okay, Baby Bering," Pete patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Nobody gets HG lovin' like Myka does."
"My name isn't actually Bering, you know?" Savannah lifted her brows, though Helena was pretty sure that she seemed a little proud of the moniker, and, even drunk as she was, she could sense Savannah's fierce admiration of her cousin.
"Works better for the alliteration," Steve grinned.
Some more conversation happened, Helena was sure, but she was busy sighing into Myka's neck as her lover soothed her back with gentle strokes of meaningless patterns, and the motion was lulling her need for sleep back to the surface.
"Savannah," Myka intoned quietly, "it's time for bed."
And, though Savannah was a grown woman, she slumped her shoulders as though she were actually a child and reluctantly muttered, "Fine. But you have to read to me, because I don't know if I can sleep yet."
"Will you be reading me to bed, as well, my love?" Helena lifted her head to regard Myka with hopeful eyes, and she vibrated with satisfaction when Myka brushed cool fingers over her heated cheeks.
"If you want," Myka indulged, with a small and radiant smile that was built on a foundation of intense adoration.
"That would be lovely," Helena decided, nodding. Then she turned. "Come, darling," she beckoned over her shoulder. "Bed is up there," she said, gesturing with her index finger toward the ceiling with an off-kilter grin.
"She is not gonna be happy in the morning," Claudia said, shaking her head. "Nope. Not happy at all. But so worth it for the video I just took!"
Though Helena heard her (and heard Pete and Steve quickly clamoring over to view said video), she merely rolled her eyes, now determined to make it to her bed – or Myka's; she wasn't choosy, as long as Myka would lie with her – and she blithely dismissed Claudia's remark, electing to revisit it tomorrow.
Myka's hands warmed against her back as her lover guided her up the stairs, whispering a small, "I'm sorry," and something about not wanting Helena to fall, but Helena enjoyed the touch far too much to feel patronized by it, so she ignored Myka's apology and continued her ascent, Savannah trailing not far behind them.
Not long after, Myka had helped Helena change into more suitable nightwear, and neatly tucked her into bed. Myka sat beside her, legs crossed, until Savannah meandered in from her own room (having brushed her teeth and changed, as well), and the younger woman duly placed her head in Myka's lap after handing her a copy of War of the Worlds.
Helena grinned at the selection, and Savannah shrugged nonchalantly with a wide smile, "I thought it was fitting, what with you being H.G. Wells and all. I still can't get over that."
"It gets easier," Myka promised.
And ten minutes later – after processing no more than two lines of the words that Myka had read aloud in that soft, profound voice that Helena simply treasured – Helena was asleep, curled into Myka's side with the agent's nails scraping delicately over her scalp, across from an only slightly more awake Savannah, who was listening hard to Myka's words as they sifted through her ears.
Author's Note: I just had this adorable drunken image of Helena that I couldn't shake, and I don't really intend to have her intoxicated very often (as it's not really in her character - or anyone else's, honestly, except Savannah's), I latched onto the opportunity. The chapter (to me, at least) is a bit dazed, but as the story is essentially from Helena's perspective, it seemed fitting for it not to be entirely clear on all of the details while she was inebriated. Let me know what you think, as always! Also, I'm sorry this chapter was a bit more delayed than usual.