Title: This Is How Things Are
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Summary: On the lawn of the B&B, lying on the grass beneath the stars, Myka and H.G. find their way into each other's arms once again.
Myka found Helena on the front lawn of the B&B, lying barefoot on the ground, staring up at the stars, and even though she was so tired she was scared that she would fall asleep standing up, Myka's lips curved up into a smile and she ambled over to Helena until she was standing directly over Helena looking down into the inventor's serene face.
"What happened to your shoes?" Myka asked, trailing her eyes down the length of Helena's body to her lovely, bare feet.
When she'd reluctantly left Helena's side to shower and wash away the layers of tomb dust she'd been covered in, Helena had been enjoying a cup of tea, fully clothed.
Helena looked thoughtful for a second and then shrugged and murmured, "I misplaced them some time ago, but I haven't the foggiest idea where. I fear they may be lost forever, but all is well. I've always enjoyed the feel of grass beneath feet, tickling at my toes."
Helena ran her feet through the grass and smiled happily up at Myka as she spoke, and Myka couldn't help but mirror the expression. Helena's joy made her joyful, Helena's sadness made her sad. This was how things were, this was how things had been for some time; this was the love she had feared never feeling again.
"Truthfully," Helena continued, her sweet, melodic voice drawing Myka out of her head and back to the present, "I'm simply enjoying the ability to feel anything," she breathed out, her gaze and tone turning thoughtful once more as she skimmed her hands over the blades of glass around her, allowing the sharp-soft tips to tease her palms, luxuriating in having a body again and being free to enjoy it. Then she looked up at Myka and extended her hand. "Join me?"
The day before, Myka might have hesitated before taking Helena's hand. The day before she would have told herself to be careful, and to take things slowly; she would have told herself to think before she acted, to wait until she was sure. The day before she would have had trouble not thinking about the past and how fast she had fallen, how completely, and what disaster it brought.
But that was the day before.
Presently, on the lawn of the B&B, Myka's thoughts turned to hours before when she had been trapped in Kataranga's nightmarish chessboard key. Strapped into that chair, unable to even turn her head to the side, fear had seized Myka. Tears had come to her eyes and her heart had beat madly in her chest as if it hoped to save itself from her macabre fate by fleeing her body before the blade dropped. Her life had been literally hanging in the balance, her fate in the hands of the woman who had devastated her and made her question everything about herself because before Egypt she had believed in Helena completely and she had been wrong. Helpless and one more chess move away from possible death, Helena had asked Myka to trust her again. She had asked Myka to go against rule and reason, and believe in her. Looking vulnerable and scared, Helena gazed into Myka's eyes, silently pleading with her to please just trust her ... so Myka did. She gazed into Helena's eyes and made the decision to believe in her again.
Later, as she had kneeled at Helena's feet collecting chess pieces that been knocked to the ground while Helena sat regally in the deactivated chair she had saved Myka from, Myka finally understood that there could be no being careful, there could be no slowly and rationally when it came to Helena Wells. After having come so close to losing her life, gazing up at Helena, seeing her smile, and hearing the playful haughtiness in her voice, made Myka realize with absolutely certainty that she still loved Helena, that she had never stopped loving her, and that she never would. It didn't matter if it made sense or if she could justify it to others. This was how things were, this was how things had been for some time; this was the love that burned in her heart for Helena, a love that would not let itself be denied.
"I thought you'd never ask," Myka replied, smiling down at Helena as she took her hand and then, still holding it, lowered herself down to the ground.
"My little wallflower," Helena drawled, smiling over at Myka as the agent settled beside her on the grass. "But you mustn't affix yourself to the periphery with the spinster aunt's and paid companions. Know that you have an open invitation to lounge with me and enjoy the beauty of nature. Know that I am eternally awaiting your company," she continued softly, still smiling though a seriousness had come into her eyes and settled there as she spoke.
"And which of nature's beauties have captivated you tonight?" Myka asked softly, her voice more vulnerable than she would have liked though she made no effort to try to mask her feelings. Helena had already seen her defenseless, she'd gazed at Myka in wonder as Myka came to pieces in her arms, so Myka knew that there was no point in pretending that Helena didn't move her.
"A few minutes ago I would have said the stars," Helena began carefully, watching Myka's face intently. "But they have been eclipsed by a no less magnificent earthly body."
Myka's eyes twinkled with mirth as she looked at Helena and her lips curved up into a large smile. She'd been hearing variations of that line since she was fifteen, but it had never sounded as good as it did falling from Helena's lips.
"What?" Helena asked, a touch of indignance entering her voice to cover the nervousness that had started to build within her at Myka's response to her words.
"Nothing," Myka whispered, waving her hand in front of her dismissively as her gaze turned gentle instead of amused, her eyes shining with affection instead of mirth.
"You're still smiling," Helena said and her voice held a hint of accusation.
"I believe that's allowed in polite company," Myka replied, unable to control the smile that had settled on her lips, and not really wanting to.
"The company may not remain so polite if you don't tell us what we've done to so amuse you," Helena responded primly, and mirth and amusement crept into Myka's eyes again.
"You sounded very British just now," Myka commented, biting down on her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing at Helena's long suffering look.
"I am very British," Helena declared, tilting her head back haughtily and widening Myka smile. "I had no personal knowledge of the sun until I was five years old. For my infancy and toddlerhood the sun was nothing but a myth I learned of through storybooks. Into the fourth year of my life, the only warmth I had felt on my skin was that of an open flame, or the heat of a tiny teacup pressed between my tiny hands. I lived a life of gloom and damp and dreamed of southerly lands that were bathed in the golden light of that most mysterious entity, the sun."
"No one's that British," Myka replied, though she was grinning at Helena, in love as ever with her words and her voice. "I'm sure you saw the sun by the time you were two or three," she teased and Helena smiled up and her and laughed.
"Only because we were a family of means and thus took regular trips to the country," Helena teased in response.
"And there you lay on the ground and stared up at the stars and walked barefoot through the grass," Myka breathed out before shifting from her seated position so that she was lying shoulder-to-shoulder with Helena on the grass, their still joined hands secure and snug between their bodies.
"And rolled down hills in my pretty little dresses, and dug up earth worms that I held with my hands, and climbed trees, and jumped into rivers and ponds, collected insects and butterflies, and participated in dozens of other activities that made my poor mother despair for my future," Helena drawled playfully as she angled her head to the side to observe Myka again.
"Are we going to talk?" Helena asked a second later, the question both sudden and a long-time coming.
Things had been calm and peaceful between them since Sykes had been dealt with. Myka had stayed close by her as they tied up loose ends at the Warehouse, and on the ride to the B&B, she and Myka had taken the backseat while Pete drove and Claudia rode in the front. The backseat of the SUV was spacious, but she and Myka had gravitated towards the center and spent the entire ride allowing their fingers to brush together on the seat in the space that remained between them. The contact and conversation between them had been easy, comfortable and playful, almost like old times, almost like Helena had been forgiven, but it couldn't be that easy … could it?
"Do we need to?" Myka asked softly, watching Helena closely.
"There are … substantial matters between us that have yet to be discussed," Helena said carefully, uncomfortably aware of the mad beating of her heart as Myka watched her contemplatively.
"I don't care," Myka responded decisively a few moments later. "I've tried to, I've told myself that I should … but ultimately … I see you … I'm near you, and I … I just don't care," she continued squeezing Helena's hand. "I love you," she whispered as tears began to well in her eyes. "I've lived without you and I don't want to do that again. What happened, happened and …"
"I regret it so much," Helena breathed out, her own tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. "I don't know what madness possessed me, but it has been excised. I swear to you. I have no words to express the depths of my shame and remorse, but I promise I will never visit such hurt upon you again," she continued, clutching at Myka's hand desperately. "I love you too. You must know that. You must know how desperately, how very desperately I love you."
"I want to believe you," Myka exhaled shakily. "I want to move forward, to look to the future instead of torturing myself remembering the past. I want to try this again, to try us again," she continued, a tear slipping from her eyes when Helena breathed in sharply and squeezed her hand.
"Truly?" Helena questioned breathlessly, her dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears and hope. "You would have me back?"
"There's nothing I want more," Myka replied honestly as she brushed her thumb across the back of Helena's hand, the touch both soothing and promising.
Helena watched her for a moment after that, her eyes searching Myka's eyes and face, and then she shifted, propping herself up on one hand so that she could lean over Myka. She moved slowly, achingly slowly, giving Myka an opportunity to tell her to stop, but Myka did not want her to stop and remained still, waiting for Helena's kiss.
When it came, it was electric.
Helena's lips were gentle as they brushed against Myka's, but the soft touch sent shivers through Myka's body. It was like a light switch had been turned on inside of her, filling her with warmth and light, and instinctively Myka surged up, meeting Helena's lips more urgently, almost desperately, so full of need and love she felt mad with it.
How long they stayed like that, kissing on the grass, hands roaming and clutching, bodies pressed together they could not know, but when they pulled back from each other panting for air, skin flushed and lips bruised, their clothes wonderfully dishevelled, Myka was on top of Helena and had one of her hands under Helena's shirt, covering her breast.
"We should …" Myka began a bit sheepishly, her cheeks flushing even redder as removed her hand from under Helena's shirt, "Go to bed," she breathed out as she rested her hand on Helena's hip, the husky timber of her voice and the desirous look in her eyes, leaving no doubt as to what they would be doing when they got there.
"I like bed," Helena sighed dazedly as she traced her fingers over Myka's cheek. "Bed is good," she whispered as a dazzling smile graced her lips. "Let's go … there," she finished, her brows creasing for a second when she realized how uncharacteristically inelegant her words had been, but then Myka was smiling at her, and leaning down to kiss her, and Helena had no time to concern herself with words.