A/N: This takes place right after the events of "Vigilante" and before "The Hollow Men". I own nothing in the Sanctuary Universe….This is the first fic I've written in almost a year, but after "For King and County" and the episodes mentioned above my muse decided it was time to come out and play!

She couldn't sleep, nothing new for her, but given her illness, Helen knew she needed the rest, yet it was one more thing that eluded her. Walking into the Sanctuary kitchen, Helen headed for the fridge. There was usually some kind of cake there and if there was any time in her life that she deserved cake, tonight was it. She looked around the shelves, pushing various things out of the way.

"Looking for this?"

Helen turned on her heals to find John sitting at the table by the window, only the moonlight betraying his distinctive shape. He had a large piece of cake in front of him.

She tried to hide her surprise and her amusement. "Yes."

"Last one," he said, small smile on his lips.

Helen paused for only a moment before reaching into the drawer, pulling out another fork and sitting across from him. She delved her fork into the chocolate cake and took a large bite, savoring its flavor.

He couldn't help but smile. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

Helen smiled weakly, "Same could be said for you."

John took a bite of the cake. "Tomorrow's a big day and…in your condition…you need to sleep, Helen."

The sincere concern in his voice created yet another chink in her armor against John. An armor that was becoming weaker and weaker by the moment, it had the minute they'd realized that it was the energy creature the inhabited him that caused his murderous rage, she'd begun to see him as John again instead of Jack.

"I can't," she said. "Too much going on up here." She pointed to her head.

"Need to talk?" he offered, setting his fork on the plate, leaving the rest for her.

Once again she hesitated, as she had learned to do where John was concerned but decided that she had nothing to lose at this point.

"I just keep thinking about the city and finding my father. Can we get there? What is Adam really up to? Is there really a cure for the radiation poisoning? Am I putting everyone in harm's way for a fool's errand?" Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him as if his face held the answers she sought.

John looked into her eyes wanting so much to take the pain away, the love for this woman completely smothering the demon inside him. In another life, he would have taken her in his arms and told her everything would be ok, doing whatever it took to make sure that it was. But now, things were different. John picked up the fork and cut off a generous bite, holding it up in front of her mouth. At first she was confused, but his eyes said it all and she opened her mouth to him, closing her eyes to really taste the chocolate and letting herself wish that it was John that she tasted. The thought sent a chill through her body.

"Are you cold?" he whispered, wishing he was wearing more than pajama pants and a t-shirt so that he would have something to offer her.

"I guess so," she said, running her hands up and down the arms of her silk robe.

John held out his upturned hand across the table. She hesitated, then took it.

In a flash, they were in her bedroom.

"John, I don't think…"

"Let me take care of you," he said, his voice low and tense, knowing that she had every right to reject him, and fully expecting her to.

But she only nodded. John slightly bowed to her as if her wish were his command. John went over to the dresser and lit one of the candles, turning the lamp off as well. The flickering light of the candle instantly made the room feel warmer to her. Her body ceased it's shaking, an affect she hadn't even consciously noticed.

"What are you wearing?" he asked as innocently as possible.

Helen couldn't help but smile.

"I assure you my inquiry is purely investigational," he said, looking over the blue silk robe that covered her shoulder to toe.

Helen hesitated, then opened the robe to reveal a matching blue silk nightgown. A moment later, John had teleported away leaving Helen standing there mouth open. I knew this was a mistake, she thought.

Yet only a second later, he was standing in front of her once again, white shirt in hand. He held it out to her. "If I remember correctly, you were never more comfortable than when you were wearing a man's shirt to bed."

She took the shirt and stared at him. He turned his back, ever the gentleman, to let her change. He heard the rustling of the fabric and then nothing, knowing that she was working the buttons.

"You can turn around now," she said, waiting for his reaction.

His wide smile spoke volumes. "Looks good to me…Now, time for bed."

She raised an eyebrow, but crawled into the large bed, under the heavy covers. John was standing near the bookshelf scanning the leather-bound volumes finally selecting one. He pulled a chair to the side of her bed and began to read,

She walks in beauty, like the night…

"Byron, really? John, you hate Byron," Helen said almost giggling.

"Yes, but you love him," he said, remembering. "And no, I didn't hate him. Just not my cup of tea, not like I knew him personally, even he was before our time."

Helen laughed. "I must confess, I never really liked Byron's poetry either." She watched John's face light up in surprise. "I just liked the way you read it."

John laughed heartily and closed the book. "I guess I should find another book then."

Helen reached out and touched his knee. "Don't." Helen closed her eyes and gathered her thoughts and emotions. "There is a real possibility that I might not come back from this…"

"Helen..."

"Kiss me," she breathed searching his eyes. "John. We'll never have another chance like this."

John's face went blank, but Helen could swear she could see his heart beating in his chest. "You need to rest."

"I need you," she said, knowing that the moment she'd laid in his arms in Cambodia that she had to have him again, body and soul. It was as vital to her as the medicine she took. At the moment, he was the only thing that could heal her long enough to get her through the next day.

John stood and pulled something out of his pocket, and for the briefest of seconds she thought she saw the glint of a knife, but the syringe slowly took shape as John pulled the cap off and injected the drugs that made him able to suppress the evil within.

"As you wish," he said waiting to feel the drugs course through his body. He would take no chances with her. He pulled off the t-shirt, revealing his smooth bare chest. He leaned over her, brushing his lips against hers, breathing her breath. Helen ran her hand down his back, feeling his skin, the sexual energy running between them the way it always had. John deepened the kiss feeling it throughout his entire body, it was like coming home.

Helen rose and turned forcing John to lie back on the bed. She straddled his waist and ran her hands admirably over his chest, stopping to run a finger around his nipple, before leaning down to his mouth. She kissed him passionately, her tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him for the first time in over a hundred years. John's hands found their way to her waist and under her shirt resting just above the waist band of her underwear. Helen sat up and looked down at him, God how she wanted this man. She hadn't known this type of passion since the last time they'd made love.

She stood on the bed feet planted firmly on each side of him. She slipped her underwear down her thighs to her knees.

"Care to help me off…with these," she teased standing there in front of him with her hands on her hips. John reached hands on both sides of her panties and slowly lowered them the rest of the way down until Helen stepped out of them. He tossed them to the floor while Helen lowered herself back in the same position on his waist only this time he could feel her heat and wetness on him. His erection tensed at the feeling and he groaned.

"Is that all it takes, John Druitt?" she laughed. John reached up and pushed her hair past her shoulders, running his hand down to the first button of her shirt until one by one more of her skin was revealed and finally the shirt was completely open, her breasts exposed to him. He took one in his hand firmly rubbing his thumb over the nipple until he heard Helen's breath hitch in her throat.

John gently guided her onto her back and lifted himself so that he could remove his pants. Helen instantly wrapped her hand around his cock. Stroking until she heard him sigh with pleasure. She continued until John could wait no longer to get his mouth back on her body. First he found her nipple, sucking and nipping just the way he knew she would like until she moaned. His fingers traveled to her wetness, massaging her clit. His mouth moved down her body, finding everything about her intoxicating. His tongue finally rested at in her folds, tasting her until he saw her ball her fists up in the sheets, her back arching toward him.

"John, please, now" she begged, watching him as he rose and positioned himself between her legs and guiding him into her slowly inch by inch. He held himself above her; his eyes never moving from hers as he moved within her. Helen's hand reached up to the side of his face, bringing his lips down to her own. His movements coincided with her breaths until finally he could feel her relaxing around him and he began to move faster. Their bodies molding together as if he'd never left her. Helen ran her hands along his back, scratching, marking him as hers once again.

"Oh, God, John," she panted. "Yeeeessss."

The way she said his name turned him on even more, if that was possible. He could never have imagined being with her again like this and it was even more amazing than he remembered. Being inside her set his body on fire and although he was in heaven with the physical act of making love with Helen Magnus, the fact that she would give herself to him after all that he had done made him realize even more the depths of her love for him.

Her breathing sped up rapidly and he knew she was close to climax, her moans low and throaty, matching his own and he could feel her tighten around him as she came, her fingernails digging into his back. John kept pace for a moment longer until his own release. He spilled into her, this time marking her as his in the evolutionary sense. He wanted to engulf her and make her know that no matter what resided within him, the strength of his love for her had never been forgotten, only hideously masked and perverted.

John rolled over to the other side of the bed. He avoided her gaze; he didn't want to see any regret that he might see there. But he heard laughter, giggles really…

"Helen?"

"Is this what you had in mind when you said you were going to take care of me?" she asked, pulling the sheet up over her. She turned on her side to face him, her head propped up on one hand, the other draped across her chest.

John smiled, relieved and more in love with her than ever before. "Not exactly."

"Well, I am certainly more relaxed, John," she said, the smile fading a bit as she leaned over and kissed him.

It was after two and they would have to be up in less than four hours. John moved to get out of the bed. "You should get some sleep."

She watched him pull his pajama pants back on, standing beside the bed. "Oh, I will," she replied a mischievous glint in her eye. "But right now, you're going to make love to me again. And again…and again…"

John knelt on the bed and kissed her, his hands in her hair and his erection already telling him that it was siding with Magnus. John stopped long enough to look into her eyes, "For all eternity."

Helen laughed. "Now if only you could teleport out of those pants."

John laughed and kissed her again….and again…