Sing the Body Electric
With Helena's gaze fixed on Myka, it was easy for her to simply file that question of what was the voice she heard in her ear for later. Her attention that night was completely devoted to enjoying Myka's deft ministrations which brought Helena's entire body a much needed release. There wasn't a part of Helena, inside and out, that Myka wasn't about to effect. She may not be able to stop the world from imposing on her wife, but she was going to wash away the effects with tender loving care.
And incredibly hot sex.
Myka had long accepted the oddity of the effect words had on her wife. Not the usual descriptive words of lovemaking during foreplay, but rather words of intent. And direction. Helena moaned loudly when Myka simply pushed her hand away or told her in no uncertain terms – 'no'. Myka being in charge was simply one of the biggest turn-on's for a person who personified control.
It was, in fact, Helena who had taught Myka how to be such an attentive lover and as usual, Myka was at the top of the class. She knew the exact moment that Helena could not take the excruciating tension of delay any longer and the perfect pace of release that caused Helena's body to shudder with tantalizing delight.
"When…..," Helena tried to ask, but was so out of breath, she had to wait a minute to finish her thought. "…..did you become so ambidextrous?" she gasped out, her ivory skin moist from the heat.
Pleased that she had pleasured Helena so thoroughly, Myka kissed the sensitive tip of Helena's breast that had been at attention for what seemed like hours now. "When I discovered you have so many delicious body parts that I need to touch all at once," Myka answered, her voice sultry. Helena moaned her response as Myka demonstrated her point.
Exhausted, yet her need to touch Myka insatiable, Helena willed the strength back into her body. Her touches on Myka were gentle, but no less urgent. "Get the glove," Myka begged because Helena's invention proved to be quite the enticement. The experience of having just explored Helena's delicate flesh meant Myka was already teetering on the precipice. After torturous minutes of carefully placed strokes, off target on purpose, Helena's gloved fingers reached the most sensitive spot of her wife's core. The vibrating detonation made Myka push up on her heels and arch her back for what seemed like an eternity while she repeatedly uttered 'YES! YES! OH GOD, YES!' – until she wore the words out.
They collapsed next to one another; Helena's front pressed against Myka's back, their fingers entwined.
While the couple slept peacefully, a curiosity seeker – the fifth one that week – climbed the stone steps to the front door of the famous couple. With camera in hand, he leaned over and attempted to aim the device in the window. While the anti-reflective coating would have prevented him from getting the shot, it was the mild –yet effective – electrical shock what seemed to emanate from the very ground he stood on that stopped him. Shaken, yet unharmed, he left in a hurry.
The Townhouse security was now being handled by the Warehouse.
While Myka's incredible lovemaking erased the stress of the day; it did not expunge Helena's memory. The events were still on Helena's mind as she arrived at work the next morning. Once she said goodbye to Myka, she headed to the 17th floor. The person she wanted to see was, in fact, waiting for her.
"What is it with you people?" she asked as soon as she saw Gloria Brown who was standing with Irene.
Now, Irene was used to Helena's acuity for expressing her thoughts in the worst possible manner, but Gloria was still learning Helenese. "Excuse me?" Gloria said, not yet offended.
"You. Your group. Your tribe," Helena said because simple words evaded the woman when she was frustrated that people didn't understand her very thoughts. Like Irene did.
"I think she …," the wise woman started to say.
"My…. tribe?" Gloria asked, wanting to hear Helena's explanation and not Irene's interpretation.
"Well, of course you're not all alike," Helena conceded. "But surely there are variables that add up to the common denominator with all of you."
"Variables …such as," Gloria asked and now even Sui stood up because no program he possessed was deciphering this. Not even his HG Wells vernacular program.
Helena drew a deep breath, because she didn't have time for this. "The way you dress, for one?" she pointed out.
"The way we dress?" Gloria wondered out loud.
Helena's head twisted quickly to look at Irene as if to ask – 'Why is she repeating everything I say?' "Oh," Helena said, thinking this would explain everything. "The habit you all seem to have in common of annoying me?"
"Are you suggesting ….," Gloria was about to solve the puzzle.
"I am suggesting you're doing it again," Helena said and threw her hands up in the air and stared at Irene. Then she walked to her office, stopping only a second to say to Irene; "I'm imploring you to get her up to speed!"
With that, the CEO was behind her door, her day already getting off on the wrong foot.
Gloria looked at the Interpreter. "I don't think she means …. I believe she was taking about …." Irene tried, but wasn't exactly sure how to finish.
It seemed neither Sui's programs, nor could Irene's intuition, could quite figure this out yet. Without the knowledge of Kathleen Sullivan's visit, part of the equation was missing. Irene went inside to find out what it was.
"Where were you last night?" Helena asked without even turning around, sensing who walked in behind her.
"Funny enough, I was having dinner with Nurse Brown," Irene said, standing there with her hands crossed in front of her. She was almost giggling at the answer because she was still surprised at how well it went.
"Oh, great!" Helena bemoaned the response. "I love it when people who annoy me the most socialize together and think of new ways to irk me."
"We actually didn't have time to plan your demise, sad to say," Irene retorted and sat down, readying herself for whatever this was. "What did you mean before….?" she attempted.
"While you were dining with that woman, I had the pleasure of having a visit from Kathleen Sullivan," Helena said and Irene sat up straight in her chair. "You remember Mrs. Sullivan, don't you? Invited me to dinner and then got all up in my face." The expression, not one of Helena's, but Pete's, didn't exactly flow off her tongue and her hand gesturing in front of her face caused Irene to cough, to suppress the laugh.
"I believe you invited yourself to that dinner, and the woman had just received the news that you were Ms. Sullivan's relative," Irene clarified.
"How is it that you can't remember a thing I tell you to do, but the particulars of that night so long ago are fresh in your memory?" Helena demanded to know.
"I'm not as old as you think?" Irene offered because she knew there was no answer that would satisfy the CEO.
"Are we done talking about you?" Helena asked and sat back in her chair….waiting.
"What was the visit about?" Irene asked, getting back to the important issue, and refocusing Helena.
"I can't say I blame her," Helena started out sympathetically. "Apparently, she's always been concerned about an event that would disrupt their family, given the circumstances of Eileen's adoption." Helena's voice softened as she relayed the event and what she learned.
"Was Myka there?" Irene asked, concerned on the effect it had for her.
"She …sensed the visitor and came downstairs. She insisted on talking to the woman," the Brit shared and then remembered something. "Apparently, her presence had a soothing effect on Kathleen because suddenly, everyone was on a first name basis."
Irene listened carefully because the things that Helena highlighted were always part of what the real issue was. "She …called…you….by your first name?" Irene asked.
"No! Not me; Myka. No, her manner of speaking didn't warm up until Myka entered the room," Helena said.
"What did Eileen say when she found out that her mother was paying you a visit?" Irene asked.
"She was quite upset, as was her father. He's the only explanation for the woman having any calm manner at all," Helena surmised. "He came with the engaged couple to rescue their matriarch."
"How did it end?" Irene asked, unable to make any of these puzzle pieces fit into a good outcome.
Helena shrugged her shoulders and glanced up at the ceiling. "Rather well, I guess. The distraught woman came to her senses, apologized appropriately to everyone, and they left."
"So, the connection with Gloria….," Irene started and she sounded like a contestant on Wheel of Fortune who had just asked to unravel the puzzle. "….is that they're….. nurses!" She clasped her hands together having solved it.
Helena looked quizzically at her from across the desk. "Yes, of course. Whatever else would it be?" and her expression had 'duh' written all over it. "That and the fact they both annoyed me to no end yesterday. Nether their fault."
"Gloria will be happy to know what the association was," Irene said, relieved there was a simple explanation.
"Oh good!" Helena said sarcastically. "I wouldn't want to lose sleep tonight thinking the woman was confused by something I said. And what the devil were you doing having dinner with her?"
"She asked me," Irene responded truthfully, but the answer only served to annoy her boss.
"Why would she do that?" Helena asked because she had trouble getting her head around the fact that Irene wasn't always available 24/7. "Had she not, you could have handled the runaway mother of the bride!"
"How would I have….?" Irene hesitantly asked, knowing fully well it was expected that she would just know. "Yes, of course."
Helena was still sorting out her feelings about Irene having dinner with the nurse. Logically, she knew she had no say in the matter and that there was no harm in it. Emotionally, Helena didn't like it one bit.
"Well, while you were off cavorting for whatever reason I still do not understand, I handled the matter," Helena said.
"With your usual aplomb, I am sure," Irene said and drew the stare of obsidian eyes that told her the comment was unnecessary. "Well, I had the opportunity to see Ms. Brown's collection," Irene said, and waited to see if she had Helena's attention. She did. "I think the purpose of the dinner was to give me a chance to get to know her better, Helena. She felt terrible about what happened yesterday, even though she does not understand the impact. I think she'd like me to be the buffer, if you will, on any other items that might be of interest to you."
"My buffer?" Helena harrumphed. "My buffer should have been at the Townhouse to greet my accuser."
"Good point," Irene said because that was the answer Helena wanted to hear. Then she told her about the journals.
"Have you read them?" Helena asked.
"I would not, without your consent," Irene responded and that pleased Helena, even though she wouldn't have minded.
"I would like to include some things of Amelia Brown's in the museum. Not her journals, for I think they would be far too personal. But perhaps other things – her book for example," Helena said, and Irene could hear the affection in her voice for the woman.
"She must have been a remarkable woman, given the times and all," Irene said, thinking Amelia was another unsung hero that history was not allowed to remember.
Helena was about to right that wrong. "She was indeed. She was a woman ahead of her time as well," the Time Traveler remarked. "We certainly had that in common." It meant a great deal to Helena to be able to share those tidbits of unadulterated truth with someone who cared for her as much as Irene did. "I have a great deal going on though, so let's wait on the journals."
"Of course," Irene agreed and got up to leave.
"She has her calm manner, I will admit," Helena said, thinking about Gloria.
There wasn't much about Helena that threw Irene after all these years, but when she refereed to someone she knew over a hundred years ago, the woman still marveled at how that came about.
Eileen was bringing tea into Helena as Irene was leaving. "Did she tell you?" Eileen asked and it was easy for the HR Director to tell how worried the young executive was.
"Yes, but Helena understands," Irene said assuredly.
"But with so much on her mind! I feel terrible that we asked her to help," Eileen confessed.
"She wouldn't do it unless she wanted to," Irene said, gently patting Eileen's arm. "She'll enjoy that," she said of the tea.
Eileen went into Helena's office and put down the tea. Helena assured her no apologies were necessary and that she understood what motivated her mother. Eileen didn't think she had ever met a more gracious person than Helena.
The cure for Myka's sluggishness that morning came in the familiar form of her friend, Bridget.
"God, you seem tired," she remarked when she saw Myka's sleepy eyes. "Is it the pregnancy?" she inquired.
"No," Myka said and the telltale blush of an incredible night of sex immediately flashed across her cheeks.
"Oh my God! I can't believe I'm going to ask you this, but is pregnancy sex good?" Bridget said, sitting at attention like a news reporter at a White House briefing.
Ordinarily, Myka evaded Bridget's prying inquiries; not because they were uncomfortable, but because there was no end once she answered. "It's always good with Helena," Myka responded and laughed at her own boldness.
"Oh, stop bragging," Bridget chastised her friend.
"Everything is …heightened," Myka admitted and that was enough to evoke ten more questions.
"I'm so glad to hear this, Myka. I couldn't go nine months without some ….of that," Bridget said, somehow believing her language should be more proper around a pregnant woman. "My boobs will probably smother Sarah, though," she said, cupping her already endowed bosom.
The two friends laughed over the banker's self-irreverence. Then Bridget shared that Sarah was working on a new line of pregnancy clothes and wanted to drop them off at the Townhouse later. "I think you'll like them. Nothing with a bow right under your bust line to accentuate your bump like the typical male design," Bridget said of the usual maternity clothes.
Millie came in with a tray of coffee and homemade cannoli's that she made especially for her boss. "You have got to stop doing this," the banker implored. "She doesn't eat them and then I do out of obligation to, you know, make you feel good."
"How is the nursery coming along?" Bridget asked and Millie decided she had to hear about it, so she pulled up a chair.
Myka only stared a moment at her assistant before answering that it would be done in a couple of days.
"Is Helena making it look like a mini CEO office. You know, like the changing table is really a credenza and there are floor to ceiling bookcases?" Bridget laughed and Millie joined in.
"No!" Myka refuted, and then shared that she thought Helena was disappointed when she told her to wait until their offspring was in school before setting up tables for experiments.
"OH!" Bridget said, the light bulb going off. "What about Mother and Daughter matching outfits! Like a sundress for you and one for the baby. But for Helena, it will be a white lab coat and a tiny little white lab coat!" Bridget laughed the most at her own joke.
"Is it a girl?" Millie asked with great interest. She was already knitting a yellow and white blanket because she couldn't wait to find out if it were a boy or a girl.
"We aren't revealing the sex of the baby," Myka said, because that's what they had agreed upon.
"What color are you painting the room?" Millie asked and Myka bit her lip not to reveal that it was pink.
"Wait! What names are you thinking of?" Bridget said, changing the subject. "This is really important, Myka, I cannot stress this enough. Names are a big deal!"
"Yes!" Millie affirmed. "I always hated my name," she shared and then Bridget chimed in that she did, too.
"Here's how to do it, Myka," she said leaning forward. "Pick a name and then insert it in the 'Name Game' song. Bridget, Bridget, Bo, Bidget, Banana, fanna, fo, Fidget. Fe fi mo. Midget. Bridget!" the well-groomed investment banker sang with her heart. "I wish my mother had used that method."
"Well, no, we …are…we ..haven't….," Myka stammered because they hadn't really.
"Do you name the baby after someone in the family?" Millie asked, giving into temptation and taking one of her own pastries.
"A little HG Wells," Bridget laughed and had to cover her mouth so the food didn't spill. "He'll be in a tiny little suit with a leather briefcase."
"Stop it," Myka implored, but was laughing at her friend's antics. That was the thing about Bridget; her humor was never derogatory or mean. And she was wicked funny.
"You could do a combination of names," Millie suggested. "Hemy*, Hyka, Melena," she said out loud as she played with the combination.
"Melena?" Bridget gasped. "You don't want the kid to get her ass kicked the first day of preschool, do you?"
The trio laughed together, but it did make Myka realize that they had not really talked about a name. Perhaps she would broach the subject tonight at dinner. It will be fun, she thought, to choose the name with Helena.
Myka didn't know that her parents would be there for the discussion.
Thank you to Aidyl James for making up this combination name for the future heir.