Author's Notes: I've been writing some very not coherent drabbles lately. I'm in the process of looking for a job and it's been rather stressful, so I write whatever comes to mind to alleviate the insanity. The idea of this particular story came to me during class one night. I'm not sure if anyone still reads Sanctuary fanfic anymore, but I just love that darn show. I want to warn you, though; this isn't going to be a highly polished pearl of literature (and not likely proofread). It will be fraught with pop culture references, irreverence, and highly unlikely situations. This is being written without the formality that I typically use when writing. Oh, a couple of warnings: 1) it should be relatively PG in ratings for things like language and innuendos related to the fact that Nikola wants Helen's body nearly every second he is awake (ratings subject to change at any time due to indecisive whimsy), and 2) this is a Nikola/Helen pairing. I'm not too sure how involved they're actually going to be, but I really haven't planned anything because planning feels too much like adulting and I ain't got time for that.

Chapter 1: The Vampire Finds His Friend (Again)

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

"Dr Magnus, I presume?"

Helen Magnus turned quickly on her heel to see a familiar face.

"Ah, but you're no Henry Morton Stanley," she deadpanned.

"Yes, well, even Henry Morton Stanley wasn't Henry Morton Stanley, but actually one John Rowlands."

"Nikola Tesla, I haven't seen you since the inception of my newest Sanctuary—five years ago." She crossed her arms and looked him in the eye.

"I know. I meant to send a fruit basket but I couldn't find anyone to deliver underground."

She was all steel, standing ramrod straight and unmoving; the sceptical blue eyes she cast on Nikola's tall, thin figure were full of scrutiny. After the demise of the Old City Sanctuary, Helen took her work underground, away from those who would destroy everything she had lived and fought for. Nikola had played an instrumental part in the decimation of the old life and the creation of the new.

Then he'd disappeared.

His sudden reappearance was suspicious at best.

"What do you want, Nikola?" It was best to cut to the chase with Nikola, lest one get lost in his wordplay and quips. And Helen was never one to let unruly vampires with magnetic tendencies and occasional histrionics circumvent important questions with frivolity.

"Who says I want anything?" he asked in mock disbelief, appearing shocked that such an insulting question could ever pass through the esteemed doctor's lips. "I must say, however, that it was extremely difficult to track you down. You don't come to the surface all that often. I tried checking Twitter to see how you've been, but didn't see any Tweets from you."

"I don't use Twitter."

"You mean I've been baring my soul to Twitter User 'DrHelenMagnus' and it's not even you? I feel cheated." He sighed in an exaggerated, put-out fashion, "Would it hurt for you to at least use Facebook to keep in touch with your friends? Old people everywhere use it now. Upload some pics of the Abnormals, take some Buzzfeed quizzes—I know you're just dying to figure out which Buffy character you are—maybe change your cover photo to you wearing that pale blue negli—"

"Nikola," she cut him off warningly with a glare to punctuate the fact that her patience was becoming alarmingly low.

"All I'm saying is I know you're old, but you could use an alias and ask Henry to update your status if all this technology eludes you…"

Without another word, she yanked her purse strap up her shoulder, turned, and began to walk away, her heels beating an angry cadence against the sidewalk.

"Helen, wait!" He jogged after her, a bit more sober and aware of the fact that Helen didn't care about his verbal bulwarks.

She suddenly whisked around, walking slowly backward as he walked toward her. "Nikola, I don't have time for this. You disappear for five years—"

"For good reason!"

"You don't keep in touch, either. No phone calls no emails—"

"There are reasons for that!"

"And I'm not even sure I care. The only time you ever come around is when you want something."

He knew it was true. He only sought Helen out when he was in trouble or needed something. She'd always taken him in, given him refuge (with a large dose of flack, but still). Helen Magnus was a very giving and forgiving woman with an infinite amount of patience, but in Nikola Tesla, she inexplicably found those qualities had acquired limits.

"I know. Helen, I know." Desperation was encroaching. He didn't do desperation very well. It was extremely unattractive.

"How did you even find me?"

Helen still had to be exceptionally cautious when she came to the surface. Though most of her detractors had moved on to different things, there was still the occasional rogue that tried to take her out. So far, though, the score was Helen Magnus 5.5 and Rogues 0. The .5 was for the rogue left in a catatonic state after being stunned by a weapon of Henry's creation. He'd warned her that it was still in a very experimental phase of development, but she was left with very little choice when out of nowhere the rogue attacked her along a deserted trail in the Black Forest. She was truly sorry it had to come to that, but she lost a day of hunting luminescent pixies and had to stitch up a nasty gash on her leg without anesthesia.

"I tracked your phone. Which was very hard to do with all the protections Heinrich put on it, but in certain spots, your signal is stronger than others. And the signal was stronger at certain times, which I then ascertained meant that you were above ground. Then I noticed a pattern in the strength of said signal. Once every three months. I tracked you to this precise location. But don't worry. You're still safe from those who would like nothing more than to do you in and find your secret lair. I found you simply because I'm a genius."

He thought he detected a flicker of amusement in the corners of her mouth and in the crinkles around her eyes; or maybe he was just willing it to be there. He'd wanted to see the Helen from another time that day. This Helen had lost so much. Though things seemed to be going well for her, she'd had several things forcibly wrenched from her in so few years—her daughter, the Old City Sanctuary, Bigfoot, James… He felt a little guilty for essentially abandoning her at a time she might've needed him the most. Going underground was the logical response to the anti-Abnormal sentiment that had been spreading across the globe; it didn't mean she wouldn't have found it a difficult transition to make.

"Are you going to answer my original question or not?"

She certainly wasn't going to let it go. He'd have to explain himself. Not that he wasn't planning to explain himself, but he'd hoped they'd banter first, for old time's sake.

"Fine. I'll answer any question you have, but in private away from prying ears. I won't have my reputation sullied by rumours that I have been given to feelings and emotions." He looked around distrustfully at passersby. "Oh, and I'll need wine."

"Of course," she said as she rolled her eyes. "Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere good. Let's go to your place."

"Nikola…"

"What? I'll explain about that, too." He stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked side-by-side down the street.

End Notes: *"Dr Magnus, I presume" is a spin on the eternally famous line uttered by Henry Morton Stanley when he found Dr Livingstone after searching several months for him.