A/N: This may not make ANY sense because I just drank an entire bottle of wine mixed with diet coke (try it, it's AWESOME). I am posting this in celebration of learning that seasons one and two of W13 are on Netflix instaqueue. Holla? HOLLA!
Takes place during Season Two season finale part one, "Buried"...though you'd probably figure that out by just reading the first few sentences...who could forget H.G. in that get-up?
This chapter is dedicated to the lovely bottle of Shiraz I mutilated by mixing with soda and to the seventeen people who have this story on alert though I keep saying I will not write another chapter…
After recovering from the shock of first seeing H.G. so scantily clad, Myka went in search of her British companion. They were currently located within the base camp of the recently-departed college kids. As in dead.
Valda had told the crew that it would be at least a half-hour before they would be able to make their way to the Warehouse 2 site. He needed to calibrate some instruments or some other such nonsense. And Pete..well, Pete was off being Pete. More than likely sulking over the dilemma of whether or not to tell Dr. Kelly about his Warehouse work…
The closing flap of a nearby tent caught Myka's attention and she thought it was a good a place as any to begin her search. Slipping through the tent entrance, Myka made sure to duck to prevent a concussion with such a low clearance. Little did she know that the sight soon before her would nearly sweep her off her feet…
Helena Wells. Standing with her back to Myka. In her underwear.
And not just any underwear: these were of the black lace sensibility and definitely not standard agent-away-mission-issue. Myka's eyes began to trace the curved edges of the laces' frills and how enticingly they hugged the milkiest of skin below. Sense got the better of her and she pulled her eyes away to rest on the pair of shorts H.G. had recently been wearing. Not that they had provided much more coverage, Myka mused. They'd been haphazardly cast off on the cot pushed into the corner of the tent. Before her gaze was pulled back to the disarming vista of H.G.'s backside (did we mention she was still wearing those calf-hugging boots?), Myka decided to make her presence known.
"What are you doing?" The question came out a lot more unsteady than Myka initially anticipated. She cleared her throat and wound her arms across her ample chest to wait for an answer.
Helena turned around slowly, not showing any sign of surprise or reservation. She matched Myka's stance. "I am in the process of changing my clothing to something a little more suitable to our expedition. Were you not the one that pointed out that my current state of dress is not an acceptable option for such a task?"
Myka couldn't help the smirk forming across her lips. "I didn't say what your wearing was unacceptable; I believe I mentioned that you may have a misconception of what fashionable British archaeologists should wear." Myka paused before continuing flirtatiously, "I want to make it clear that I highly approve of what you are wearing." Or are not wearing, as it were. Myka moved closer to the older woman until she was scant centimeters from her, unable to tell if the sudden rush of heat was emanating from Helena or their Egyptian surroundings. "Allow me to help."
All Myka needed by way of permission was a raised eyebrow from her pliant companion. The younger woman's fingers ghosted over pale shoulders and toned arms before finding the bottom edge of Helena's tank, one of the last vestiges of clothing remaining. Helena felt goose bumps arise wherever Myka's touch grazed her heated skin. Soon there was more skin to touch as Myka made quick work of removing the tight cotton top. Now all that was left was the most alluring bra and panty set. Myka couldn't resist asking where the other woman had recently been shopping, running her hands along the silky material.
"I've been told it is the utmost of secrets," Helena husked as she arched into Myka's touch.
"Victoria's Secret?" Myka asked as she pushed H.G. against a large wooden desk that looked like it had held maps of the area at one point. A little taller than waist-high and sturdily anchored in the sand below, Myka quickly decided how she'd repurpose the furniture.
"Precisely, yes." Helena's answer came out a grunt as she was hoisted onto the edge of the desk, maintaining eye contact with the younger woman by sitting up on her elbows.
"Good. Then I know exactly how to do—" Myka reached around Helena's warm body to reach the clasp. With a flick of her right hand, she triumphantly declared "—this." The young woman made a show of slipping the straps of H.G.'s bra down her arms and threw the garment onto the unused cot.
"Now, when you said 'help'…you actually meant—" Helena took a moment to catch her breath as Myka's lips made pleasurable contact with a hardened nipple. "You meant—assisting me into a furthered state of undress?"
"Feel free to stop talking at any time." The rough texture of the pebbled skin of Helena's areola was bliss on Myka's tongue.
"Continue along this very path and it is all but likely," Helena purred, sinking down onto the wooden platform and stretching her arms above her head in pleasure. Myka adjusted her position until she was standing between H.G.'s legs, one of her arms sliding along the older woman's until they were grasping each other's hand. Myka's other hand was also agreeably occupied kneading the naked breast that did not currently have a mouth latched to it. The younger woman's upper body added pressure to Helena's lower torso in order to gain some leverage to continue her elicit exploits. Myka's black cotton-blend tee scratched enticingly along the sensitive skin near H.G.'s navel.
"You are just—" Helena gasped for breath as Myka switched over to the other breast, licking the nipple into a hardened peak. It took everything Helena had to finish her thought, "morbidly over-dressed."
Myka pulled her lips away from the older woman's chest, the saliva she left drying quickly in the arid heat of the climate. Myka slid her body up until they were eye-to-eye before continuing, "One of us has to be the responsible one."
"The tent is sealed off, isn't it?" H.G questioned, bringing her arms down to hug Myka to herself.
"I sure as hell hope so." The uncertainty added to Helena's already heightened state of arousal. Knowing that one of the men could come barging in at any given moment spurred her on.
"Then you must be quick about divesting me of my last article of clothing already." An article becoming more damp as the seconds ticked by…
"But I thought you were 'ever so comfy'?" Myka's teasing tones weren't lost on her lover. Instead of giving into the snarky response on her lips, Helena used said lips to engage in the steamiest of kisses. The older woman's fingers moved across the back of Myka's neck to hold her in place as her tongue began a steady assault of the roof of Myka's mouth, tongues running along each other and crashing against hard teeth. Done with teasing (at least for the moment), Myka disengaged her mouth from the inviting embrace of Helena's own before beginning a slow descent down the older woman's firm body. Placing wet kisses down H.G.'s breast bone and beyond caused Helena's knees to draw up in pleasure until her center was aching with need.
What seemed like hours later found Myka's generous lips stroking the skin of Helena's inner thigh, alternating sides as she came closer and closer to the lace separating her from the older woman's core of desire. Myka felt the pressure of Helena's legs (and those boots!) closing around her as she used her fingers to pull the thin material barring her way aside. Myka dragged her tongue along the now-exposed glistening slit, curling it against the viscous liquor which yielded a taste uniquely Helena. Myka reluctantly pulled away, breathing deeply as she ran her hands along Helena's toned hips to push down the moistened panties to remove them completely.
Myka moved her way back up towards Helena's face, smiling upon seeing the thin line of perspiration forming along H.G.'s upper lip. The young woman caressed her hand across Helena's outer thigh, up her sensitive side until she cupped a full breast ever so briefly. Finally Myka's thumb grazed lovingly about H.G.'s waiting lips before replacing her digit with her mouth. Kissing the older woman senseless, Myka broke away for a much needed breath and a much deeper need to look into Helena's eyes as she allowed one of her long fingers to meander back down her lover's body and break through the dripping fold of the woman's sex to stroke the inner silk within. "I'm just putting it out there that this is payback for what you did to me in the supply closet."
"Just shut up and…" the rest of Helena's statement was swallowed in a moan as a second finger thrust into her waiting center, Myka's thumb brushing wickedly across her swollen clit.
"And what?" Myka questioned.
"Continue with your—" H.G. fought to find words to placate her lover.
"No. And what?" Myka asked more harshly, slowing the motion of her fingers ever so slightly in defiance.
"Fuck me, damn you. Why do you reduce me to such profane inadequacies—oh my radiant beauty, yes!" Myka increased her rhythm, steadying her body against Helena's undulating form and the desk she hoped would hold up their joined writhing. Helena found it harder and harder to focus, the back of her head making contact with the hard wood of the desk of its own volition. The older woman had one hand at the back of Myka's neck—using it as leverage to pull her back up and trying to meet her eyes as her pleasure increased—and the other hand above her head, trying to catch the top edge of the platform she was splayed upon. Instead her fingers curled around something unexpectedly soft and she held on for dear life…
The tip of Myka's French braid went up and down methodically with each relentless thrust, fingers curling upwards through heated tightness as her thumb kept a steady motion against Helena's nub of nerves. Helena tried to hold the swaying hair as a focal point, alternating between the knotted locks and the desire flaring in Myka's gaze. Meeting her eyes as she came infinitesimally closer to the edge of reason, Helena became aware of Myka's lips finding her own once more. Payback indeed was the final thought floating through her mind as the older woman surrendered herself to the gratification of climax.
Extricating her fingers gently as the final shudders ceased, Myka placed gentle kisses along Helena's cheeks and chin until the older woman's countenance returned. Myka lovingly caressed Helena's still-naked body before something in the older woman's hand caught her eye. "How did you? How did this happen?" Myka took the now-shredded pants from H.G.'s grasp. Pants she was sure H.G. had meant to change into.
"Given the correct catalyst I obviously possess super human strength." Helena found the strength to sit up on the desk, making sure to keep Myka's body close by trapping the younger woman between the grip of strong, sweat-laden legs.
"I better be the only such catalyst!" Myka growled.
"At the moment, yes." Helena teased.
"At the moment?" Myka responded a little too loudly. H.G. couldn't help but giggle at the jealous rage seething below her lover's surface. Myka tried to cover it well—to not let on to such a weakness—but Helena could still easy detect it.
"If there is one tidbit of information I have gleaned from this new world I now live in…it is that 'payback's a bitch.'" Helena leaned back, resting her weight on her forearms and not showing the least bit of self-consciousness at still being very-much naked. "Now assist me in re-dressing. Unfortunately, it will be into the same scandalous clothing previously doffed."
"Depending on how you look at it…and it better just be me looking at it…very fortunate indeed." Myka helped lift Helena off the wooden platform that had served them so well and did as she commanded.
A/N: Lord, don't let this chapter of "Payback" be my magnum opus…but I think it is! You likey?