This idea was not originally mine, I saw someone on tumblr come up with it and was inspired to do my own fic. It is simply insane how easily Bering and Wells fit into Caskett and I just couldn't resist the spark of inspiration to write (there hasn't been much lately). This is also crossposted on my AO3 account (same username, link in bio). In case anyone is confused: Myka=Kate, basically Kate's backstory with Myka's personality (which is actually quite similar to Kate) but things will merge and shift a little between the two. HG=Castle, Christina is alive and well and basically Alexis. HG is not a time traveler from victorian England, but modern England. I will add onto her backstory as the fic goes along. This first chapter will read (very closely) to the pilot of Castle, but it will change from there. On that note, I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think:)

"We must not allow the clock and the calendar to blind us to the fact that each moment of life is a miracle and mystery."

-HG Wells

Detective Myka Bering frowned as she sifted through the crime scene photos on her desk. Her back was killing her from remaining hunched over in this position for the last few hours. Sitting up, she stretched out her hands and rolled her neck in a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension. She let out a sigh and flopped back into her chair.

"I take it that means bad news?" Detective Donovan asked as she walked up behind Myka. The shorter woman was the second youngest – after Myka – to make detective and showed a lot of promise. She, along with Pete Lattimer – Myka's previous partner back when they were rookies – worked under Myka.

"Yeah, I can't find anything and now everything that I look at is turning blurry so I think I'm gonna call it a night. You guys get out of here, we'lll hit it again tomorrow."

"You sure?" Claudia asked, hopefully. She and Pete never wanted to leave before Myka, but the tall, curly haired woman was known for practically sleeping at the precinct.

Myka nodded and smiled up at the red haired girl. "Get out of here." She said. Myka stood up and walked into the break room, making like to gather her things for the night as Claudia and Pete happily strolled out to the elevator. Rather than get her coat, Myka poured her fourth cup of coffee since 5pm and went back to her desk. She had nothing better to be doing at home anyway. Myka sipped the now cold coffee and went back to the photos with a sigh. There was something familiar about the crime scene, but she wasn't able to place it and it was pissing her off. Myka was not one who liked to overlook anything, she was meticulous almost to a fault. In frustration, Myka was about to call it a night when it finally hit her. She yelled and jumped up out of her seat, spilling some coffee in her urgency. Wasting no time, Myka informed Captain Neilsen of her discovery and was granted permission to follow up on her lead. Calling back Claudia and Pete – the three of them headed out to find a certain famous author.

"I still can't believe you killed off your main character kiddo, what are you planning on doing now?" Martha Rogers asked her daughter. Helena rolled her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair.

"I'm sure I'll think of something Mother." Helena walked back over to her daughter Christina and smiled. "Homework? Sweetheart, you're at a party! And up past bedtime, can't you enjoy yourself?"

Christina smiled, and didn't bother looking up.

"Helena, Derek Storm was you're most beloved character, you put a bullet in his head!" Martha exclaimed.

"I need something new Mother! Life should be an adventure! You want to know why I killed Derek? There were no more surprises, I knew exactly what was going to happen every moment of every scene. And these parties! Ughh, they've become so predictable." Leaning down to Christina with a mock whine, she raised her voice up an octave and continued. "I'm your biggest fan, where do you get your ideas?" Helena said with a sign.

Christina chimed in. "And the every popular 'will you sign my chest'?" She added with a childlike grin. Helena smirked, her daughter was old for only being eleven. More mature than Helena herself it seemed at times.

"That one I don't mind so much." She admitted as she sipped her champagne.

"Yeah, well FYI, I do." Christina reminded her mother. Helena softened her smile and ran her fingers through her daughters dark locks.

"Well, just once I would like someone to come up to me and say something new." Helena said with a huff.

"Ms Wells?" A woman's voice asked from behind her. Helena grinned, liking the sound of it and yanked Christina's pen out of her hands, spinning around with flourish.

"Where would you like me to sign?" She asked, flashing a brilliant smile.

The tall woman smirked slightly and held up a detective's badge. "Detective Bering, NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier today."

Helena – for once – was lost for words. That certainly hadn't been what she was expecting out of this night; though it was an interesting turn of events. Christina leaned over her shoulder and grinned, taking her pen back and patting her mother's shoulder. "That's new." She said with a laugh.

Helena found herself in the back of Detective Bering's car – without handcuffs she was pleased to take note of – and driven to the 12th precinct of the NYPD. It was not the first time Helena had found herself in police custody, nor did she imagine it would be her last. Detective Bering was certainty the most attractive officer to ever detain her however and she was curious as to see what this was all about.

Detective Bering sat down opposite Helena and flipped through a relatively thick folder. "Ms Wells, you appear to have quite a rap sheet for a best-selling author." She said with a tone of disapproval. "Disorderly conduct, resisting arrest..."

Helena shrugged and cut her off. "Girls will be girls. Can't let the boys have all the fun now can we?" She said with a smirk.

Detective Bering looked unamused. "It says here you stole a police horse?"

"Oh, borrowed." Helena corrected. She had indeed given that atrocious animal back.

"Ah, and you were nude at the time?" Myka raised her eyebrows in question.

Helena noticed the detective looking her up and down and widened her smirk. "Well, it was spring, and I have never been particularly modest. Americans are much more wary of nudity than I'm used to."

The detective shot Helena a glare that surprisingly sent chills down her spine. If looks could kill indeed. "And every time the charges were dropped." Myka spat out angrily.

"Well what can I say, the Mayor is a fan." Helena leaned forward with her arms on the table. "But, if it makes you feel any better, I'd be happy to let you spank me." She grinned and almost dared to run her foot down the detective's leg, but thought better of it. The glare on the curly haired woman's face didn't change, in fact, if possible it deepened. "Now, Meeka..."

"MY-ka." The woman corrected haughtily.

"Myka?" Helena asked, fixing her pronunciation accordingly.

"MYKA" She spat out. Helena held back her grin as best she could.

"Myka." She said softly, letting the name roll of her tongue. She liked it. "May I inquire exactly why I'm here tonight?" Photographs were slapped down on the table in front of her, and curiously Helena leaned forward; grinning as she recognized the crime scene. "Is this a current case?" She asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"Yes." Myka leaned in slightly as Helena eagerly poured over the photos.

"This...this is Flowers For Your Grave!" Helena stated in elation.

Myka slapped another photo down on top and smirked. " And this is how we found Marvin Fisk, straight out of Hell Hath No Fury."

"Looks like I have a fan." Helena said as she snatched up the picture to get a better look.

Myka nodded. "Yeah a really deranged fan."

Helena dropped the photo from her face and smirked, looking the detective up and down. "Oh you don't look that deranged to me darling."

Just as she had hoped, Detective Bering looked taken aback. "What?" She asked.

"Hell Hath No Fury?" Helena's grin widened. "Angry wiccans out for blood? Only hardcore Wells groupies read that." Myka huffed and pressed her fingers against themselves, biting down whatever retort she wanted to say. Helena picked the photograph back up and studied it further.

"Is there anything in out of place, something amis? Anything that might be helpful to us you can think of?" Myka asked. Helena focused and studied the picture intently, wanting to be of some help and utterly curious. Nothing she saw appeared out of place, it was all as she had written it, to a T. It was thrilling and horrifying all at the same time.

"Nothing appears to be out of place." Helena said a few moments later. "May I perhaps get copies of these?" She asked excitedly.

"Copies?" Myka asked in confusion.

"I have this poker game – mostly other writers – Patterson, Cannell, best-sellers. You have no idea how perfectly jealous they would be to see these." Helena looked back down at them in glee.

"Jealous?" Myka stood up.

Helena looked back up happily at the taller woman. "Oh yes! That I have a copycat? It's practically a badge of honor in my world." Myka slapped her hand down on the table angrily, causing Helena to jump. She looked up at the furious woman's face, just inches from hers.

"People are dead Ms Wells." She said cooly.

"Well, darling I'm not asking for bodies, just the pictures." Helena bit her bottom lip to hold back her huge smile. Detective Myka Bering was very attractive while angry.

Myka huffed, started to say something, thought better of it and bit her lip. The things Helena could do to those lips. "Ms Wells, if you don't have anything to offer, you're free to go." She said turning away and heading out the door.

"Oh, I happen to have quite a lot to offer." Helena quipped after her. Myka ignored her and walked out of the room. Helena shrugged and slid the file Myka had been hoarding across the table and poured over it eagerly. Myka stomped back into the room not a minute later and snatched the folder out of Helena's hands, replacing it with a piece of paper. "Ah, and what exactly do we have here?" Helena asked.

"I'd like you to let me and my officers go through your fan mail. If this truly is a fan, they might have written you something boasting about their accomplishments. In cases like these sometimes the killers..."

Helena cut her off. "Killers tend to try and contact the subject of their obsession, yes." She added. Looking up at Myka's shocked face, she was pleased to have finally caught the other woman off guard. She looked slightly impressed. Helena smiled. "I am also fairly well versed in psychopathic methodologies. It's an occupational hazard and did you know you have gorgeous eyes?" She asked, leaning into Myka's personal space.

Myka almost bit her lip, but stopped herself, glaring at Helena instead. "So I take it you won't have any objections to us going through your mail?"

"Be my guest." Helena said taking the pen from Myka. She held it over the paper and smiled up at the detective. "On one condition."

Myka sighed and clenched her teeth. "Ms Wells, I can just get a court order. I have enough evidence with the way the scene is set up to get a judge to..."

Helena cut her off. "I could be very helpful, I get a lot of fan mail Miss Bering, I know what will sound out of place and what is harmless. Plus, I'd be happy to help and an extra set of eyes couldn't hurt. It's the least I could do for the city I have grown to love."

"Detective Bering." Myka corrected cooly. "And don't you have other things to be working on?"

"Not at all, as you know I recently killed off my main character." Helena lifted the pen and signed her name with a flourish before handing it back to a horrified looking Detective Bering. "Oh dear, did I spoil it for you?" She asked, genuinely upset. She hated spoilers, she certainly hating giving them away to her readers. "The book's been out of over a week! Surely a fan like you would have already gotten it by now?"

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about Ms Wells. Thank you for the offer, but really, we have trained detectives and officers for this sort of thing." Myka looked up at the rap on the door. "Just, stay here a minute." She ordered and walked out again. Not moments later, she returned with a gruff looking, slightly pudgy older man whom Helena recognized from somewhere. "Ms Wells this is Captain Neilsen." Myka introduced the man who shook her hand with a smile. Clearly whatever her superior had said Myka was not happy about.

"We would love to hear your insight Ms Wells, why don't you come in around nine tomorrow morning?" The Captain asked.

"Sir!" Myka objected quickly. "Can I talk to you a private?"

Captain Neilsen grinned and looked between both women before patting Myka on the shoulder and heading out. "Nope. See you tomorrow Bering, it was a pleasure to meet you Ms Wells, nine o'clock sharp." He called on his way out. Myka looked horrified.

"Righto." Helena stood up and saluted before cringing at the awkwardness of herself and slung her coat over her shoulder. "Until tomorrow then detective."

"Yeah, night." Myka responded stiffly.

Myka glared across the table at Helena and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. As promised, the raven haired author had shown up promptly at 8:59am clad with coffee and a wickedly annoying grin. Despite the fact that Myka was secretly a huge fan of the author's novels, she couldn't help but find herself incredibly irritated with the woman herself. She was cocky, arrogant, and some of her comments would have bordered on sexual harassment had she actually worked here. The two of them had been reading letters for almost three hours so far and Myka was a little sick of reading about how much men – and women – loved the author. She groaned and dropped a particularly graphic letter from a woman named Kelsey, listing all the things the two of them could do together in bed. HG Wells was a known player and Myka had seen many a different man and woman on her arm in page six.

Myka looked up at HG curiously and caught the older woman steeling a glance over the letter currently in her hand. "What?" Myka asked roughly. It was the third time she had caught HG doing that.

"Oh, nothing." The woman said causally. "Just, the way your eyebrow furrows like that when you're concentrating. It's very cute. Not if you were trying your hand at poker however, then it would be deadly, but otherwise..."

Myka cut her off. "Does any of this ever bother you?" She asked, waving the letter and effectively changing the subject. Compliments, actually intended or not, had never been something she was comfortable with.

HG curiously reached out and skimmed the page, her mouth turning into the smirk Myka was getting used to. "Not at all, she sounds like a very fun woman to know." Myka glared disapprovingly and HG wisely closed her mouth, taking the top letter and opening it up only to find her hand slapped away. "I don't usually like it rough darling but I could get used to it if you like." HG said without looking at the taller woman.

"Gloves." Myka practically growled out. She had reminded the woman four times already. "And it's Detective Bering."

"That's so formal." HG whined.

"This happens to be a formal business situation." Myka retorted back. She turned away and began sifting back through the letters. "It really doesn't bother you that they get so graphic and literally think they are in love with you? Perfect strangers?" She scoffed.

"Jealous?" HG wriggled her eyebrows and pulled her gloves back on, ignoring Myka's glare.

A few minutes of silence went by as the two of them dug back into their work. Her eyes hurting, Myka set down the current – disgusting – letter she had been reading and took a sip of her coffee; subtly studying the other woman. Despite her comments and blasé attitude she had been working hard from the moment she arrived, and had actually offered up some helpful information. "Can I ask you a question?"

HG immediately put down the letter in her hand and locked eyes with Myka. "Shoot."

"Why are you here?" She asked. "You don't care about the victims so you're not here for justice. You don't care that the guy is aping you books, so you aren't here because you're outraged. So what is it HG? Are you just here to annoy me?"

HG's grin never faltered, if anything, it widened. "I'm here for the story." She said simply, and picked the letter back up.

"The story?" Myka asked.

HG let the letter fall slightly and played with the paper. "Why these people? Why these murders?"

Myka raised her eyebrows. "Sometimes there's isn't a story Ms Wells, sometimes, they guy's just a psychopath." She said before she took another sip of her coffee.

HG scoffed and flipped her long black hair over her shoulder. "There's always a story Detective. Always some chain of events that muddles all together and causes everything to make sense in the end. Take you for example, under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart good looking women become lawyers, not cops. And yet here you are, why?"

Myka clenched her teeth. It annoyed her that the fact that HG had called her smart and good looking affected her, but it did. More than that though, the completely sure of herself look on the english woman's face bothered her. "Well I dunno HG, you're the novelist, you tell me." She said sarcastically, thinking that would be the end of the conversation, she picked up another letter.

Instead of a brush off, HG took it as a challenge. "Well, you're not what they call bridge and tunnel. I don't detect any hint of a boroughs accent in your voice, so that means Manhattan, which in turn means money. You went to college, probably a good one, you had options; more socially acceptable ones. And yet, you chose this which tells me something happened." HG leaned in closer as she went on, and with every correct thing she said Myka felt the air in the room slipping out and the straight face she had set slipping. "Not to you. No, you're wounded, but you're not that wounded. No, it was someone you care about, it was someone you loved. You probably could have lived with that, you're tough, but the person responsible was never caught." HG was clearly finished, but Myka couldn't speak. No one had ever been able to read her that well, that quickly. HG smiled, but without a trace of the cockiness that usually filled her grins. It was soft, but satisfied, knowing she was correct without being smug. "And that Detective Bering is why you are here."

Myka swallowed, quickly gathering her composure and dropping the eye contact. "Cute trick Ms Wells, but don't think you know me." She said, knowing her voice was maddeningly giving herself away.

"The point is there is always a story." HG said gently. "You just have to find it."

Myka ignored HG as she glanced down at a drawn picture identical to their crime scene. "I think I just did." She exclaimed, holding it out to show HG.

Helena was having a lovely chat with the detective named Pete Lattimer while Myka was on the phone. Apparently the man could fit a horde of croissants into his mouth at time. Announcing that the prints they found on the letter wouldn't be ready for over a week infuriated the impatient english woman. Waiting for things was not her forte. Helena whipped out her cell phone and dialed the mayor, noting the look of awe on Lattimer's face as she strolled off to continue the phone call. Happily she plopped back down and grinned at Myka. "Prints will be ready in an hour." She announced. Rather than look impressed as Helena would have hoped, Myka waved her over and gave her a small glare.

"Ms Wells, half of the guys here are waiting on prints, you can't just jump the line. There is a protocol."

"Hum yes, which you never break do you? Let me ask you something detective do you ever have any fun? Let your hair down out of that tight ponytail, drop your top button, a little cops gone wild?" She asked, picturing how enticing that would surely be.

"You do know I'm wearing a gun." Myka stated with a straight, unamused face. Helena's grin only widened. She liked a challenge in a woman.

"Bering!" Another officer called out. "Midtown, we found another one."

Helena jumped up and followed Myka and the other officers to the crime scene. Ignoring Myka's instructions to stay out of the way and not touch a thing, she sauntered over to the ME and bent down with a smile. "Helena Wells, I'm consulting."

"Leena Parish." The woman said without looking up from her clipboard. Helena reached out to touch the body only to find her hand slapped away. "Wait, Helena Wells? As in HG Wells? The author?"

"Yes." Helena said happily. Leena grinned and slipped off one of her gloves, sticking her hand out.

"I love you're books, you know you have a real gift for the details of death."

"I thought I told you to stay over there!" Myka yelled as she came over to the two of them.

Helena shrugged. "I got lonely." Myka rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Leena who began explaining that the woman hadn't actually been stabbed. Unable to help herself, Helena chimed in. "Lack of blood around the wound suggests she was dead before the knife was inserted. No foam around the mouth, so we know she didn't drown."

"Oh, you're good." Leena said with a grin.

Helena tipped her head slightly, thrilled to see Myka chastising Leena with a look and continued on. "She was killed first, then posed, just like the others."

"Yeah, I know." Myka said shortly. "Can I have a word?" The taller woman grabbed Helena's arm tightly and hauled her away from the body. "This is a homicide investigation not a day at Disneyland, if I give you an order then I expect you to obey it." She said sharply, then walked off. Helena only smiled and chased after her.

"I don't respond particularly well to orders." She admitted. "You know in my book the dress was blue."

"Don't change the subject." Myka growled.

"Did Tisdale and Fisk know each other?"

"We haven't found a connection why?"

Helena shrugged. "Just looking for motive."

"He's a serial killer he doesn't need motive." Myka said in annoyance. Her phone rang and she yanked the infuriating device out of her pocket. "Bering." She greeted shortly. Helena waited and watched as Myka's annoyed look softened. "We got a hit on our prints, our guys Kyle Cabet, let's go."

Thrilled, Helena ran after them and ignored all of Myka's instructions to stay in the car. The young man's apartment was cluttered, full of her books, and newspaper clippings involving Helena. It was a little creepy, but once they found him in the closet banging his head against the wall, Helena felt a sense of disappointment. Everything felt far too easy. Neat and perfect, wrapped up and tied with a bow. Her readers would never buy it as a story and neither did she.

"Wells, usually when we find a guy standing over the body with a gun, he's the one who did it." Myka said as gently as it appeared she could manage. Unconvinced, Helena had no other choice but to go to her poker game. She brought up her suspicions to her friends and was happy to find they agreed with her.

Helena had an idea.

When Myka walked over to her desk the next morning, there was a woman hunched over her files, pouring through them. Recognizing the jet black silky hair, she stomped over quickly and wrenched her files away. "What are you doing!?"

Annoyingly, HG looked unperturbed. "Oh, it's a novelist's habit, going through other people's mail, checking medicine cabinets, etc."

"Why are you still here?"

Helena reached down and pulled up the present she had wrapped for the curly haired woman. "I just came by to give you this. Just something to...memorialize our brief partnership." She handed it over and Myka rolled her eyes. "Oh don't look so suspicious darling, go on then! Open it." With a huff, Myka took the box and opened it roughly, pausing once she realized what was inside. "I got you a copy, I even signed it. And I sincerely apologize for leaking any spoilers, I assure you, it's still a great read, you have no idea how everything plays out yet. Not that you're a fan." She added for good measure.

Stunned, Myka softened considerably. "Thanks." She mumbled. "That's actually kinda...sweet."

Helena picked up her bag and sighed. "Well, it was a pleasure to have meet you Detective Bering." She said genuinely. Before Myka could respond HG leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Myka's cheek. Shocked and confused, Myka froze and tensed up, but HG simply pulled back, smiled and walked away; leaving a very confused Myka behind. Awkwardly, she set the box down and returned to her desk, smiling despite herself. Perhaps HG Wells wasn't as horrible as she thought.

Realization dawned on her a moment later however and she searched though her files in a hurry. "She didn't." She said through gritted teeth. Finding her case file in fact gone she yelled. "She did!" And snatched her badge and gun before storming out the door and heading to find HG.

Not bothering to knock, Myka slammed open the doors to the public library and stalked over to where HG was sitting. "Helena Wells you are under arrest for felony theft and obstruction of justice." She yelled as she walked over to HG sitting calmly, glancing over the casework.

"You forgot making you look bad." The woman added.

Myka wanted to smack that familiar smirk of the cocky, infuriating, english woman's face. She had indeed made her look like an incompetent fool. Myka bent forward and stuck her face into HG's. "For a second there, you had me believing you were human." She stood up. "Cuff her." She ordered the officers.

"So rough is indeed your thing?" HG said raising her eyebrows. "My safe word is apples. How did you find me?"

"I'm a detective, it's what I do."

HG frowned. "My mother told you didn't she?" Myka didn't bother answering, but smirked and waved her officers to take HG out. "By the way the rose petals in the Tisdale murder, they're grandiflora, not hybrid tees."

"I'll make a note of that." Myka said sarcastically as she began gathering up her files.

"Yes, you probably should given that it means Kyle Cabet is in fact innocent."

Myka's smirk dropped.

Back at the precinct, Myka was shocked to meet HG's mother – who did certainly explain a little of how HG became to be HG – and her very well behaved – and mature – daughter.

"I should say I'm surprised, but I'm not." Martha Rogers said. Myka gave her a half smile. "It's my fault, she never had a father figure." Myka took note of the fact that HG's mother and daughter both did not share her accent.

"Oh that's not true Mother, I had many father figures." HG retorted back as she placed her arms around her daughter. Myka couldn't help but smile a little at the two of them.

"Dear they've agreed to drop the charges if you stop interfering with this case." Martha said. Myka looked over to Captain Neilsen, who nodded at HG.

"Of course." HG said pleasantly. She turned her gaze to Myka and dropped her smile. "But you've still got the wrong man darling." She added and lead her daughter out of the precinct, with her mother in tow. Myka hated it, but she had the feeling HG was right, something didn't add up.

An hour later, Myka was still staring at the white board when Pete walked up to her. "No, no, no, no. Don't tell me she got to you?" He said as he sat down next to her.

"She didn't get to me." Myka insisted. She pointed to the picture on the board. "She did."

"Allison?" Pete asked in confusion.

"Kyle committed a murder of convenience, then escalated to the murder of his social worker then back to another murder of convenience? It doesn't make any sense. HG's right. If he was trying to follow her books then the roses on Allison's body were wrong, and Fisk should have been suffocated by a plastic bag not strangled with a neck tie and Kendra's dress should have been blue not yellow. For an obsessive it would have been impossible not to get the details right."

"Well if it wasn't him then who was it?" Pete asked.

"Allison's the key, she's the one someone was trying to hide. The killer wanted Allison dead, the other two were simply to cover up her murder."

"Yeah, well then who?" Pete asked as he stuffed three doughnuts into his mouth. Myka glared at him.

Helena sauntered up to the front desk of the building Allison Tisdale's father owned and smiled at the woman behind the counter. Lifting her sunglasses down and placing her hands on the countertop, she said, "hello love, I'm Helena Wells, I have an appointment with Mr Tisdale, he's expecting me."

"Is he now?" A familiar voice asked. Helena whipped around to watch Myka simply flash her badge to the woman without a glance and hit the button for the elevator.

"I...this is not what it looks like." Helena began, knowing she couldn't really talk her way out of this one, she coincided. "Well, actually it is, but I can explain."

Myka grinned and shifted her weight back and forth between her feet adorably. The elevator dinged and she cocked her head forward. "You coming?" She yelled over her shoulder. Helena grinned, and jumped into the elevator.

While Myka was asking Allison's father questions, Helena looked around the room curiously. Chiming in and asking if she had any known enemies and receiving a look from Myka. "Thank you sir." Myka said gently and pointed sharply for Helena to follow her out. On a hunch, Helena ignored her and stepped forward.

"Mr Tisdale Fortune Magazine lists your net worth at nearly a hundred million dollars, is that true?"

"I've been lucky yes." He asked, touching his hair awkwardly.

"If something happens to you where does all that money go?" Helena pressed.

"Half goes to charities and half to my children." He paused. "Well, my son."

Myka lead Helena out of the building and wasted no time in tearing into her. "What was all that about?" She asked.

"He's dying." Helena exclaimed.

"Who's dying? Tisdale?" Myka asked.

Helena noticed a hot dog vender and smiled. "Would you care for a hot dog darling? I would like one." She said and began to walk over. Turning around she was about to ask what Myka preferred on her hot dogs but found her nose grabbed sharply. "Aaaappples!" She yelled as Myka pulled her face close to hers. "Apples! Apples!"

Ignoring her pain completely, Myka kept her grip. "What makes you think that he is dying?" She finally let go, and Helena readily began to explain, in hopes that her nose would be left alone.

"Did you see those pictures in his office? He is much thinner now, not like he has been working out but sick thin."

"His daughter was just murdered!" Myka yelled.

"And the way he kept touching his hair? Like he was self conscious. It's a wig, a good one but new to him and he was wearing makeup."

"He's trying to look healthier than he is." Myka said with a nod, Helena grinned, she was reeling her in. "Just because he's got cancer doesn't mean it's terminal." Myka said warily, but Helena only grinned and waited for Myka to reach the conclusion herself. "We never interviewed the brother." The curly haired woman said. Helena's smile only widened as she followed behind Myka.

"He's lying!" Myka exclaimed as they walked away from interviewing Allison's brother over an hour later.

"What! Really?" Helena asked. She did not like the smirk that was etching onto Myka's face. And she really didn't like the fact that she had missed out on seeing something the other woman had caught. Working leads with Myka was much more exciting than anything she had done in a long time. Rather than write about solving mysteries, she was actually helping to solve one. As they got a warrant to search the brother's home Helena was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Wells, if you're coming in with us, you'll need to be armed. My backup's in the glove compartment." Myka offered. Ecstatic, Helena jumped back into the passenger seat and began rummaging around.

"I can't find it." She said. The next thing she knew, she felt metal on her wrist and Myka's face only inches from her own. Myka had handcuffed her to the car door.

"This time you are staying here." Myka said with a grin.

"What! Myka, darling come on now can't we reach some other agreement?" Helena called out in vain. She quickly searched around to try and get herself out of the annoying contraption. Not having much luck, until she found a key, but dropped it, she quickly slid off her shoe and picked it up with her toes. As she looked up, she saw their suspect climbing down the fire escape and chased after him. Tackling the man, but shaky on uneven ground, he pulled his gun on her and held her close. Myka was right behind her, with her own gun pointed square at Harrison Tisdale. Despite a gun being pulled on her, Helena began to goad her assailant.

"Wells you are not helping!" Myka yelled.

Helena continued to ignore her as the true story revealed itself to her. Seeing Myka inch forward and knowing Harrison was unraveling, Helena reacted quickly and jutted her elbow into his face, snatching the gun away from him and shrieking with glee at her success. "Tell me you saw that!" She yelled proudly.

Myka ran over and cuffed the man, before shoving Helena roughly into the wall. "What the hell were you thinking!? You could have gotten yourself killed!" She screamed.

"Darling the safety was on the whole time." Helena stated proudly.

"You could have told me." Myka said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, where's the fun in that?"

It took longer than Helena would have thought for the other officers to arrive on scene and process Harrison Tisdale. She waited – as patiently as she could – and Myka finally made her way back over to Helena.

"Well...I guess this is it." Myka said with a small smile.

"Well darling it doesn't have to be." Helena said, rather hopefully. "We could do to dinner, debrief each other."

"Why Wells, so I can be another one of your conquests?"

"Well, I could be one of yours." Helena offered with a grin. Oh how she would enjoy that.

Myka bit her lip and shook her head slightly with a smile on her face. Sticking her hand out, she looked down into Helena's eyes. "It was nice to meet you Ms Wells."

Helena sighed, and took the hand that was offered to her reluctantly. "That's too bad, it would have been great." She said.

Shocking Helena, Myka bit her lip seductively and stepped forward hovering just near Helena's ear. "You have no idea." She whispered. Helena couldn't believe it, but she was frozen as the tall woman sauntered away proudly. Oh yes, Helena Wells loved a challenge.