Title: One More Chance
Rating: M just to be safe
Warning: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 PREMIER. If you spoil yourself, don't get mad at me.
Nothing was going to be the same now, and none of it mattered. Myka wasn't Pete to get vibes, but it was hardly a stretch of her powers of observation to know that something was wrong with Artie. Some cost had been paid to get the Warehouse back, and Myka could only guess that it was a terrible one.
Once, Myka Bering would have done everything to get to the bottom of that mystery, to know the debt owed. To know the truth.
Now, she didn't give a damn. Whatever miracle had occurred, Myka was going to accept it, and if willful ignorance lead to a bitter future, well…she had lived through bitter before.
Here, now, she had everything she needed and she wasn't going to waste a second of it.
They were finally alone. Artie had remained at the Warehouse, Leena was trying to comfort Claudia, Pete had made a beeline straight to the kitchen as soon as they walked in the door.
They stood in Myka's room, the warm light of the bedside lamps giving the space a gentle welcome.
There was so much that needed to be said, but when Myka reached for the words, something else emerged.
"Stay with me tonight? Please?" Her voice nearly broke under the weight of longing and relief. It was as if the world had been spinning out of control for so long and suddenly, it had been righted. Myka stared at Helena, her slight form still clad in the clothes Sykes had given her, shadows of the past hours still darkening her eyes.
Never in her life had any sight been more beautiful.
And it would seem that she wasn't the only one so overcome. Helena's mouth opened but for once, the words that she wielded so easily to carve whole words from the human imagination seemed to have deserted the author. Instead, the smaller woman nodded, almost uncertainly, as if she too, couldn't quite grasp that this was happening.
The impenetrable darkness of a South Dakota night outside the windows lent an air of magic and isolation to the small rituals of getting undressed and readying themselves for bed. Yet even after so long apart, with so much still unsaid between them, it was surprisingly easy. Helena still remembered where Myka kept her sleeping shirts. Myka still had a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet.
It was a different kind of magic that was created when the lights were finally doused and, still silent, they climbed under the covers of what had once been - and hopefully would be again -their bed. As if choreographed they slid into each other's arm and their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, as close now as they had ever been, utterly heedless of the distance traveled by their hearts.
They didn't sleep that night. Only finally coming close just as the first silver stain of morning's light began to bleed over the hills. Instead they held each other fiercely, sometimes whispering long buried truths, sometimes remaining silent for hours. Though neither would admit it, both women were waiting for the dawn. Darkness was a benediction but it was also the time of dreams, of unreality, of hopes and desires that could still vanish with the morning light.
Only when the sun climbed fully into the sky, dousing the room with gold like honey, setting dust motes to sparkling and turning dark irises to polished mahogany and emerald-flecked hazel did the last tendrils of fear vanish like the morning mists.
Myka and Helena looked at each other in the light of a new day, feeling warm skin under hands and the slender strength of each other's bodies and finally began to accept the gift that had been given to them.
There was so much yet to say to each other, so much that needed to be understood. They could feel the words pressing at their tongues.
But that was for later. Now was for them. For Myka to dip her head and claim Helena's lips. For Helena to gasp softly, tightening her arms around the taller woman and burying a hand in her hair. For one kiss to become more. For hands to roam and mouths to seek. For cloth to be tossed aside impatiently to reveal eager flesh. For whispered pleas and broken breaths and soft cries of pleasure and joy. For satiety, contentment, the intoxicating feeling of skin against skin and a loved one held close.
Now was a new beginning, and while neither woman knew the direction this path would take, they were determined to travel it together, for as long as fate allowed.