Touch, Part 2
A Warehouse 13 Fanfiction

Author's Note: Can I just say that it has been awesome reading the reviews that you guys and gals have left on Part 1 of this. Thank-you so much for your kind words! I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but here is the second part of Touch for your reading pleasure. I hope you really enjoy it and as always, reviews are extremely appreciated. I do a happy dance for every one that I get! :D

(Start)

Huddled into the top corner of the bed, her back against the headboard and her right side against the wall, she looked quite small with her knees drawn up against her chest.

Her expression was demure. Her mood was downright melancholy. It had been seven minutes since Myka had escaped from Helena's grasp – leaving the dark haired woman tussled and confused in the process – and hid herself away in the washroom. And since then, not the slightest peep had emoted from behind the locked door. To say that Helena was shocked by Myka's reaction would have been a gentle understatement. She simply could not figure out what she had done wrong! With every passing moment and every passion-inflamed kiss, Myka only gave cause to believe she wanted more, and Helena was keen to deliver in full volume.

Was there some sign that she missed? Some subtle indication from the brunette Warehouse Agent that she needed to slow down? Perched on the bed with her long arms wrapped about herself, Helena replayed the moments leading up to now, from the time they had entered her room; she could find no such pause. With the flames of her mood (and her libido) resolutely stomped down to smolder and ash, Helena found that she was actually quite upset with herself.

Although she could presently find no course of her own action during the evening to give rise to Myka's hasty flee, she was certain she had done something terrible wrong; and for that, Helena could scarcely find forgiveness for herself.

There are very few people whom have had so great and continuous an impact on Helena's life as Myla had. Without fear of over-exaggeration, Helena could safely say that the younger agent had taken her aback by the fire in her eyes from the moment they met. It was not something that Helena could readily explain or as yet understand, this immeasurable bond between them. Somehow, by simply looking into the others eyes, they knew each other. Ever more importantly, Myka was the one who could pierce through the havoc of Helena's own mind, bring her back into the light of sanity. And subsequently another chance at a normal life working within the Warehouse. (Though, perhaps normal would not be the best choice of words.)

It was mere happenstance that they had managed to stumble upon each others lips two weeks ago. But Helena's heart raced with merriment when, two days later, and shy as the morning sun on a foggy day in London, Myka returned the accidental kiss with a much more purposeful one. But now here they were, Myka hidden away in the washroom and Helena sobered and down trodden. She no more wanted to offend Myka's sensibilities than she wanted to kick a basket full of puppies.

It was now 10 minutes ago since Myka had gone into the washroom, and now Helena thought she should at least knock and see if there was anything she could do to correct whatever transgression she had committed. She began to stir herself from the bed when quite surprisingly, the door opened and Myka edged slowly out of the washroom, her eyes down-turned and chewing on her bottom lip. Having scooted forward, Helena now sat on the side of the bed, facing towards Myka who leaned against the washroom door frame.

Helena's cozy bedroom steadily grew thick with the silence between them. Helena watched Myka carefully, and Myka in turn watched the floor. They both visibly fidgeted in their place, very unsure of what to do, or what to say. A few times, Myka opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again, her thoughts not fully formed.

Helena was still getting used to this side of Myka, so uneffusive and shy. When with everyone else, be it individually or in a group, Myka was a much bolder woman. She was not impulsive in the least bit, and never spoke without first considering her choice of words. But she was not withdrawn. She easily took charge of situations and asserted herself in the face of resistance. She was strong and encouraging with her friends, extremely intelligent, and above all, a woman who commanded respect. Every one of those aspects of Myka's personality are attributes that Helena so admired in the younger woman. And yet there was still more to her.

Most recently in the past week or two, Myka gave Helena glimpses of a gentler side. This was a side of Myka that was not always confident and required a gentle word instead of a firm one. The tall brunette became (and only when they were in complete privacy with one another) less certain of herself, reserved and hesitant with her words, and bashful in the face of Helena's bravado. Just three days ago as Helena was informing Myka of how extraordinarily elegant the curve of her back was, leading down to her hips, and that her exceptional figure was the perfect compliment to her exceptional mind, Myka's face and neck turned a shade so candy-red that Helena had never seen before. Myka's ensuing smile was just as bright as the blush creeping up her ears and quickly sought to hide her face behind the throw pillow that sat beside her on the sofa. It was the most adorable and endearing reaction that Helena had ever seen in her life. She could not resist sliding across the sofa to remove the pillo and kiss away Myka's embarrassment.

That was their fourth kiss.

Again Helena was encountering that other side of Myka. She was still learning the finer points of Myka as a woman and didn't want to further push her away. But Helena was a very forward woman; she wanted to know what she had done wrong and how she could put it to rights and sooth away Myka's fears.

"Myka I'm so sorry," Helena began.

"No, I'm sorry," Myka quickly replied, looking up from the floor.

"Whatever I did, I am sorry."

"No, I'm really sorry."

"I was pushing far too much."

"I just freaked out."

"And I should have slowed down."

"And I didn't mean to run off like that, I just …,"

Myka and Helena paused, realizing that talking at the same time was not helping the situation or their understanding of it.

"You first," Myka finally said, and Helena was glad that Myka was looking at her again and not at the floor. The British agent's own heart thudded within her chest as she stood from the bed. She was on uncertain ground here with Myka, their relationship having zero definitions. She did not want to have a misstep and over-reach her boundaries, whatever they might be.

"If I have done anything at all to offend or upset you then please tell me, Myka. And please know that I am truly sorry." As Helena spoke, she was relieved to see a small amount of hesitation leave the other woman's celedon eyes.

"Oh Helena...," Myka breathed as she took a a step away from the wall. "No, it was nothing that you did. You … you're perfect! It's just … I should explain myself." Myka moved across the room to the bed and the two sat down together. Myka's eyes went back to examining the floor as she searched for the right words to say. Helena quickly saw that her fellow agent was quite fiercely wringing her hands, and gently took hold of them to give whatever comfort she could. Despite Myka's assurance that Helena hadn't done anything to upset her, she was still relieved when her gesture was not shrugged away. Hand in hand, she waited patiently for Myka to continue.

"Helena, I am sorry that I pushed you off of me like that," Myka began as she look up into the older woman's dark eyes.

"Think nothing of it."

"I didn't mean to freak out the way I did. It's just that this is all very new for me. I've never … done this before," Myka finished as she gestured to the narrow space between their bodies. Almost immediately, Helena was awash with understanding.

"You've never been with another woman before?" she asked for clarification. Myka nodded her head as she sucked in her bottom lip. It was another one of those little things that Myka only sometimes did, like chewing on her bottom lip, that Helena found so delightfully amicable.

Now knowing the reason behind Myka's hesitancy and earlier "freak out" as she liked to put it, Helena could only smile. This was far from the first time that a woman had expressed such concerns as they were led to Helena's bedroom.

"It's not that I don't want to," Myka abruptly continued. "I really do," the brunette added as she almost shamelessly traced her eyes up the British woman's torso and the curve of her breasts. This only made Helena's grin grow larger. "It's just that I've never been attracted to another woman before, not like this. It's really new, and I need time to wrap my head around it. ...And I have a rule."

This revelation caught Helena by surprise. "A rule?" she asked with a thin arched eyebrow.

"Yeah, um, that's the main reason I ran out on you." Myka paused for a moment to look down at the slender hands that held her own. The Victorian writer gave Myka's hands a squeeze for encouragement, and it seemed to spur Myka on.

"My rule is that whenever I'm, um, with … someone," Myka began with a nervous look in Helena's direction, hoping that the older woman caught her meaning.

"Romantically," she supplied, to which Myka nodded.

"Romantically," Myka repeated, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest that the word caused. "I always wait two months before having, um … you know, sex."

"Oh …," Helena could only say, completely surprised for the third time within the hour. Helena blinked, taking a moment or two to take in the information that Myka had given her. During her life in London in the late 1890's, she and her brother Charles had often been described by bedmates as sexually liberal. Yes she was choosy of her partners, but completely unashamed of her intent of the regularity with which she enjoyed coupling. Add to that the fact that Helena did not believe in the merits of delayed gratification and you had a very sexually frustrated H.G Wells.

But as Helena let the words of Myka's two-month rule sink in, she nodded her understanding all the same. Sex was a woman's privilege no-one else's to claim rights to. Helena would sooner take her eyes out with pins then to try and force herself on another woman, least of all a woman so precious to her as Myka. Even still, Helena's face must have betrayed some level of disappointment because Myka presently lifted Helena's hands to her lips and gave each a brief kiss.

"I'm so sorry for not having said anything sooner. It's just that suddenly, things were moving so fast tonight that my head was nearly spinning," Myka explained. "The thing is …," There again, was the hesitancy, and Helena detected a bit of embarrassment in Myka's large eyes.

"You need not explain yourself to me," the inventor interjected as she scooted closer to Myka, never letting go of her hands. "Myka, I am able and very willing to abide by your measures, no matter how long the stretch of time."

"No, I want to explain because I want this to be right," Myka insisted, determination returning to her eyes. "I haven't been with very many people. And sex is a big deal to me. I don't completely know what this is between us, but it feels great. Better than great!" At this Helena could only smile, over joyed that Myka's feelings of affection mirrored her own. "So I don't want to rush this. ...I want every bit to be perfect. Especially that."

Myka's words made Helena's heart melt. She could not resist slipped her hands around Myka's back and drawing the younger woman into her for a kiss. Myka leaned into the kiss, taking in every moment she could before finally having to pull away and take a breath.

"You are well worth the wait," Helena said into the breath between them, prompting a bashful smile from Myka as broad as her face.

"Thank-you," she whispered back.

(End)