Disclaimer: Legal babble. Bleh. I do not own Sanctuary or its characters. Sad face.

A/N: This story is part of the Almond Wafers Universe; however this is going to be part of my new series called "What They Saw". Can be seen as continuation but for the most part stands alone. This is meant to be a light and hearty fiction that also gives me an excuse to play with Willy and Abby, such an adorable couple. Their quirks make me wanna shrink them and put them in my pocket!

Not sure how…um…descriptive this will get. Kind of winging it. Enjoy!

Inhaling the fresh winter air, John was glad to be home. He had spent the last three weeks overseas in England working as a consultant for the British police. Apparently, his recent cases with the DA had his name traveling about in major circles and they wanted him to lead the conviction against the son of the corporate executive of Zynergy, a leading weapons manufacturing company. The case became a hassle, John had been outmatched financially, his resources limited, and the board of executives including the CEO and father of the boy seemed to have everyone under their thumb. Fortunate for him, James Watson, noted police detective in Old City and long time friend, accompanied and assisted in gathering the evidence needed to build the case.

In the long run, he had managed to get his conviction in front of a jury. It took him three weeks to get the court in his favor, but he had won out despite the death threats and warnings. Finally, he was back in Old City. More specifically, he was home and soon to be reunited with his lovely wife.

For the past few weeks, he had been contacting his wife on the phone every night. The time zones allowed them to chat when they were both awake, him at night and she in the morning or during her painting hours. Their conversations had kept him sane and her insight on certain situations kept him refreshed. The conversations also kept his…frustrations at bay. His wife's level of creativity did not just end with painting, something which he was recently reminded of.

A sharp cold chill whipped his heavy overcoat around his legs, signaling that he should enter the house before he received frostbite on his head. Reaching down, he picked up the heavy suitcase and made his way inside the house. The blast of warmth from the interior was a welcomed feeling. The music that permeated the residence a comfort he had missed overseas. But, it was the sight of his wife on the couch that brought a warmth to his chest that had nothing to do with the heat capsulated in their home.

There she was, resting upon her side. One arm was tucked underneath the pillow her head lay upon, dark curls surrounding her angelic features, her long slender legs eloquently bent at the knees as her other hand rested next to her head on top of the soft cushion. She was asleep. She was so beautiful. John gently dropped his suitcase at the end of the hallway wall; he shrugged himself out of the heavy overcoat and tossed the article of clothing onto the living room chair followed by the navy blue blazer he wore.

His eyes remained riveted to the sinfully delectable creature upon the couch. Sharp blue eyes taking in the sight of the woman laying there in peaceful repose. John's eyes traced the delicate arch of her brows, the high set of her cheek bones, and plush lips that he knew were feather soft when kissed. There was nothing, absolutely nothing about this woman that he did not find attractive.

Helen looked good in whatever she wore; be it skirts and sweaters in the house, jeans and t-shirts, dress suits when she watched one of his cases in court, or nothing at all; she looked stunning. And his point was proven once again, his vixen of a wife was clad in what he could tell was his dress shirt. A crisp maroon linen button down shirt was wrapped around her body. The tails of the shirt would have ended an inch above her knees, but given her current sleeping position, it had risen up to mid thigh.

He continued his perusal, roving down her slender neck towards the hint of bosom and lace that peeked above the third button. She was wearing black lace today. A dark chuckle rose from within that broad chest, his wife was always practical, if she had to get dirty to get something done, she would take it full force. However, when it came to underwear, she luxuriated in every sense of the word. He could not complain. He relished the exhilaration his wife permeated whenever she bought new underwear.

His favorite moments were when they shopped for her little delicates together. Eyes slipped closed in ecstasy at the memories of Helen trying on several lingerie outfits and pieces at Victoria's Secret. Different styles in multiple colors and he enjoyed sitting there and watching her slide open the curtain in the private fitting rooms and asking him how she looked. Fissions of pleasure ran down his spine at the thoughts but brought his mind back to the present.

Slowly and as silently as possible, he closed the distance between himself and his wife. He gently eased his body onto the edge of the couch, long lean fingers reaching out to trace over the soft cheek of her face. It amazed him how at times she was able to feel his presence there for she tossed her head slightly in his direction at the contact. This forced her face closer to his errant fingers as a sigh of what he could only describe as contentment, escape her lips. He stroked her cheek, relishing the feel of the silken flesh beneath his fingertips.

Helen was blissfully unaware of her recent guest. She was caught up in the throes of a very erotic dream with her very own handsome lawyer as a co-star. With her husband gone for almost a month, she was in a state of sexual limbo. John had always been passionate and she might even go so far as to say insatiable. And she loved every minute of his unbridled sexual desire for her. However, after being denied access to him for this long, even she was starting to feel the effects of the distance.

Being pragmatic, she had initiated phone sex with him the first night he called. Something they had not done since college when she would go spend her summers with her father traveling while he travelled to America to be with his mother or remain at London to work. That night John reacted in a very…un-John-like manner. He had stuttered and seemed embarrassed to even go along with the idea of phone sex. His excuses were cut short when she unabashedly reminded him of how she had been more than willing to masturbate for him on the balcony during one of his client's Christmas masquerade balls, while the party was at full swing no less.

In the end, she had won. He had been hesitant at first, but the nights after that first night proved that her husband was a perfectionist in everything he set his mind to. He went so far as to suggest using the webcam on their individual laptops. Now that was an experience Helen would never forget. Stretching languidly on the couch, eyes fluttered open. The most intoxicating scent of sandalwood and the crisp clean scent of John's aftershave floated along her senses before the blurry shadow in front of her solidified into the stark lines of her lover.

"John!" her surprised shout would have echoed off the walls had she not been so groggy from her nap, instead it sounded more like a heated whisper interlaced with a moan.

"Good evening, love," he replied. A crooked smile curved those usually strict lips of his before he leaned down to gently kiss her temple.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, her body once again stretching to release the tension that always came from sleeping on one's couch.

John made a show of sitting back up completely surprised. He reached over and turned off her iTouch and cocked his head to the side as if he were listening for a particular sound. He then abruptly stood up and craned his neck to look beyond the glass window of the front door, "no police cars about, and no clothes strewn out on the lawn. Well, my dear, I can hazard a guess and say that I still live here, hm?"

She would have rolled her eyes at his antics had he not suddenly stooped down and captured her mouth in a frenzied passionate kiss. Her mouth parted to shriek in surprise and he took the opportunity to glide that experienced tongue of his into the cavern of her mouth. She mentally cursed that fact that her lover was not just a good kisser, but a fantastic one.

Will Zimmerman was bone tired. After weeks of preparing for two major surgeries that were scheduled back to back earlier in the morning he was bombarded with phone calls to attempt another surgery for a colleague who apparently caught a late flight back from vacation. The surgery had gone as well as could be expected considering that fact that Will only had a little over an hour to read the charts and patient history and with no consult to keep him up to speed on the difficulties that might occur during open heart surgery.

Now, he was home. Never, had he ever been so happy with thoughts of crawling through the front door and just collapse on the living room rug. Before passing through the threshold of his house, Will paused and strained his ears into the night. It was silent. Impossible.

A quick glance towards the house across the street reassured the young cardiologist that his neighbor was indeed home. He saw the grey Audi A7 but was also surprised to see a sleek black Mercedes parked right next to it. His wife, Abby, and he had just recently moved into the new house a week ago. He had learned from the very first night that his neighbor seemed to be up in all ours of the evening with her music just blasting down the street, and had done so consistently every night after that.

The third night of hearing music filtering from the house, Abby could not take it any longer and neither could Will. He had surgeries, consults, meetings, and follow-ups with patients to do in the morning and he was losing sleep every night with that crazy woman constantly keeping the neighbors up. The morning after, he had gone over to her house and knocked on the door. He was met with a rather attractive looking woman who was slightly taller than he with thick dark brown hair flowing down to the middle of her back. Her sharp blue eyes held a level of intelligence that blew his mind away. He also noted that she seemed a bit bedraggled and must have just woken up considering the state of dress she was in.

Clad in only a pair of very, very short silk shorts and a matching silken top, Will had to blush at the sight of long, smooth slender legs and a very well toned body for a woman of her age. He had to cough and jerk his head up when he noticed that she wore no bra considering the state of her peaked nipples underneath the thin spaghetti strapped camisole. His neighbor must have noticed for she quickly shut her matching blue silken robe followed by a rather clipped, "may I help you!" in a terse British accent.

Safe to say, Will had been very embarrassed and made a complete idiot of himself. It had to have been the worst first impression ever, ogling your neighbor and getting busted. He told her that the music was bothering his wife and he continued to say that he was fine with it and ended the conversation by practically running back to his house, face flushed with barely a goodbye. Will had completely avoided her for the remainder of the week. Luckily, his schedule of leaving early and coming home late provided the perfect excuse to never have to speak or look at his neighbor ever again.

With one final glance at the black Mercedes, Will shuffled into his house. He idly pondered who would be visiting that woman this late. She had no other visitors previously.

John broke the kiss with the lovely nymph underneath him. With hooded eyes, he took in the sight of her face flushed with desire. The tinge of pink that blossomed across her cheeks was a very erotic sight. A smile of bemusement crossed his features when he noticed her mentally shaking the dreamy cobwebs from her mind before fixing him with one of her fiercest glares.

"That was not fair," she scolded with eyes closed, "and you will not slip by without answering my question just because you are an excellent kisser."

"Oh! I'm an excellent kisser, am I?"

Eyelids snapped open to see that arrogantly cocky half grin that only John could ever make sexy. She should have known better than to praise any of his talents, even if in mockery. Ignoring his comment, she pointedly crossed her arms underneath her bosom, not realizing that her breasts were practically jutting out of the maroon shirt she had pilfered from his side of the closet. John, however, did notice and responded by arching one of his brows and glancing down at the sweet globes of flesh that teased his senses just underneath red and black fabric.

Helen noticed his distraction and planted one finger underneath his chin, forcing his gaze back to her eyes, "I would prefer to have your attention up here."

"I am much inclined to try and change that opinion of yours," he stated with a leer. His words were followed by a kiss to her lips and a trail of even more kisses leading downwards towards her breasts.

"John…," she whispered huskily. He really was determined to distract her tonight. With a strength and will that she did not know she possessed around this man, Helen managed to push against John's shoulders. He grudgingly gave in and gave her an exasperated sigh, leaning back up once again, "I want answers now."

"If you insist, my dear," he pecked her once more on the lips, would have preferred to give her more had she not turned her head away when his exuberance to make out with her like a teenager on her dad's couch made itself known.

"You told me you would not be back until Thursday of next week."

"Well, I had expected the case to take longer considering the bugger James and I were in. No leads, no witnesses, nothing. However, old Jimmy was looking at photographs taken at the crime scene and found a picture of a girl that the boy was acquainted with mingling in the background. We tracked her down and she confessed to everything. It was the break we were looking for and cut our stay in England much shorter. A full conviction, love," by the end of his recap, he was beaming like a child on Christmas morning.

"Congratulations!" she retorted, opening her arms to him before planting a well deserved kiss to the corner of his lips, "but why didn't you call? I could have at least done something for you and James to welcome you both back." John had to admit that her small pout was arousing him thoroughly.

"Oh, I'm sure the old boy is tired and has most likely already passed out in his apartment. You know, he suffers terribly from jet lag. I had to carry him partially up to his apartment after driving him home. Just to rouse him from sleep in the seat was a herculean effort! I, however, am here. And most ready to accept your congratulations," he winked at her slyly causing Helen to break into a fit of laughter.

As her chuckles subsided she decided to reward her husband with a thorough snog. Tongues lashing out to soothe his own, fingers gliding over his smooth bald head, and breasts pressing up against his chest. Their heated kissing session was interrupted by the sound of his stomach rumbling. Helen broke the kiss and gave him a rather amused look.

"Sorry, my dear. The plane didn't serve anything that could be regarded as food."

"My poor heart," she cooed, "I suppose we should make you something to eat." Pushing for him to get up, he did. He offered her his hand and she was lifted from the comfort of the cushions by him. Not letting go of that strong warm palm she led him into the kitchen. "Lucky for you I haven't eaten either," she quipped, her dark waves of brown hair tossing over her shoulder as she looked at him.

"Hm, so what was for dinner?"

She watched as John leaned over the counter after following her into the kitchen and so she turned to the refrigerator, "I was going to make our thin crust pizza."

She waited for his response but found none forthcoming. When he did not reply at all, she turned to drop the vegetables and dough onto the counter and lash out at him. That was when she noticed that John seemed to be staring, correction, glaring at something outside the window.

"What's wrong John?" she twisted her head to see what had caught his attention but saw nothing.

"A boy was staring at the house for a good 5 minutes," he muttered. She looked back at him and found his brows furrowed deeply. Laughter bubbled in her throat and she walked over to her husband, arms wrapping gently around his neck.

"That must have been William Zimmerman. He's our new neighbor along with his wife. They moved in about a week ago," she commented off-handedly.

"That doesn't explain his sudden gawking."

Oh…perhaps not…," she cleared her throat slightly before making her way back to the other side of the counter. She barely made it two steps before John's long fingers wrapped around her forearm, gently tugging her back to his broad chest.

"Helen…," she was keeping something from him. He knew that tone she used, the hesitancy in her voice always indicated that there was something she was holding back. When he turned her around to face him, the deep crimson shade of her face validated his suspicions. His wife cast her eyes around, looking anywhere but at him. "Helen," he repeated sternly.

"There may have been an incident-,"

"An incident!" he interrupted.

"An incident," she continued as if he had not said anything, "where Dr. Zimmerman may have been prelude to a startling sight."

She was being vague on purpose and he knew it, "and what startling sight would that be, my dear."

"He may have seen me clad in that blue camisole you bought me for Valentine's Day 3 years ago," she waited for it, knowing how jealous and possessive John was.

"What!"

'And there it is,' she thought abysmally. Truly, her husband's temper could make an active volcano look like a gurgling cheap imitation. She used his momentary outburst to break his hold and return to the vegetables and dough she had placed on counter earlier. "Really John, there is no need to shout. It was an accident. In fact, it's your fault entirely!"

"My fault!" he sputtered indignantly, "I didn't ask you to traipse up to the young man and give him a bloody show," John tried to reign in his anger and jealousy. A difficult task considering every time he closed his eyes all he could imagine was Helen in that gorgeous blue camisole set he had bought her. It was one of his favorite outfits of hers. The shorts hugged her upper thighs displaying the shape of her legs perfectly. The thin spaghetti strap top was made of blue silk and lace and hugged her body loosely but offered the most incredible view of her breasts. His wife looked like sex on legs in it. Delectable, and that boy had seen her dressed like that.

"Yes, your fault. If you hadn't called me that morning and tried to arouse me into another round of," she made a rather vulgar, if not enticing, gesture with her hands, "I would have been dressed properly and been in the right state of mind when I answered the door that morning!"

Instantly, an image of Helen flush faced and nipples peaked answering the door with her hair haphazardly framing her face in that tell-tale sign of complete arousal had him fuming. Bad enough the boy had seen her dressed like that, but he had caught her at the very peak of her aroused state. A state she was in because of him.

John remembered that night clearly. He had initiated the encounter. His lovely wife had been groggy from sleep but a few minutes of encouraging and heated whispers had her panting and soaking wet. Half an hour later they were both so close to that peak and she ended the conversation when she informed him that there was someone knocking on the door. Safe to say that she never returned the call and he had been stuck with taking a very long, very cold shower.

"You could have put on a robe," he whispered heatedly, fingers massaging his temples.

"I was wearing a robe, the one that came with the bloody outfit," she snapped back.

"That hardly covers anything!"

"Well, you bought the damned thing. Next time buy a longer robe!" was her cheeky retort. Her temper was starting to match his. How dare he blame her for that incident! It was not as if she was willingly giving the boy a free show to enjoy. If her damned husband was not so keen in driving her mad with lust she would have put on one of his much larger sweaters.

She opened her mouth once more to give another scalding lecture about his temper when she noticed that he was rubbing his temples. Something he only did with a splitting migraine. Her features softened and she realized that an argument was hardly conducive in leading to a seductive night. And this would be his first night after nearly a month of not being able to physically touch each other, and Lord only knew how much she missed touching that rock solid body of his.

John knew he was overreacting; well overreacting may be an understatement. He knew Helen would not willingly flaunt herself in that outfit unless she truly had no choice or was not in the correct mindset, which he had to admit he should have been flattered about considering at was he who had caused her disorientation and just over the phone. His reverie was broken when he felt cool fingers trace over his forehead.

"John it was an accident," she whispered. He lifted his head and dropped his hands and was instantly relaxed when he felt his angel's soft slender fingers firmly rubbing his temples. He moaned in gratification.

"I know, I just get very-"

"Jealous? Possessive? Tempermental?" she finished for him with a very toothy grin before returning to her preparations.

John stood up and followed right behind her, "I was going to say easily irritated," she snorted at that comment and he punished her by pinching her bottom which earned him a smack to the shoulder and an indignant squeak. "I'm hardly jealous, especially over that boy," she noted how he whispered the word 'boy' with disdain.

"Hardly jealous?" she turned around to face him, effectively trapping herself between his solid body and the island behind her. Her predicament was not helped by his arms locking onto the solid table top. "Need I remind you of the incident at James' party last New Year's Eve?"

John grimaced at that memory but he refrained from commenting.

"Ah, so you do remember. If I recall your hand had to be stitched and the receiver of your right hook was unconscious until the next morning," a fine dark brow lifted and glowing sapphire eyes locked onto his.

"And if I recall I was richly rewarded for my chivalry afterwards," he tried to soften the verbal blow to his character by reminding her how his "right hook" had earned him a very sexually aroused Helen tearing his clothes off inside the car after being stitched at the hospital. If he had no self control that night, he was sure his wife's legs would have been up in the air on the hood instead of the back seat.

"That's not the point," she was embarrassed about that encounter. She had been so turned on by the sight of John pummeling the drunken man who had the audacity to squeeze her ass that she had practically jumped him in the hospital parking garage. She continued, "you, John Montague Druitt, are a very jealous, possessive, and temperamental man. And lucky for you, I have come to accept that part of you, much to the detriment of my sanity."

"So," he immediately switched tactics. If there was one thing that John feared, it was a very angry Helen. If people thought his anger and temper were something to be reckoned with, then they had never come face to face with his wife at the height of her rage. Even he cowered when faced with that wrath. With a suave grin, "I drive you insane?" he practically purred.

Helen knew what he was doing. Her first reaction was to slap him, but the practical sensible woman inside of her clawed out; reminding her that it was his first night back.

"Interminably," she responded as he brushed his lips against hers. "But you are a jealous man." She was not going to capitulate so willingly to his seduction.

John groaned, knowing her stubbornness could most likely outlast his own and so he admitted defeat. Helen was far better adept in denying him pleasure as well as herself than he was, "yes, I get very jealous. When other men look at you and undress you with their eyes, all I see is red."

Now that was unexpected! John actually admitting he was wrong about something. That was a rare occurrence in itself. She relished her victory, but still, that was not enough for her. She wanted to tease him a little more.

"Shouldn't you be flattered then, dear? The fact that I am very much appreciated by a younger generation should show you how wonderfully lucky you are to have me," she could not help the feral grin that crossed her face as her index finger traced the hard edge of his mouth.

"Oh, so you enjoy getting ogled at by younger men," he whispered while pecking her lips chastely. His arms wound around her waist, pressing her closer as he felt her hands slide up his chest towards his neck. God, she felt wonderful in his arms. Her body, so soft and supple, that it molded perfectly with his own. "Tell me, did the feel of that Zimmerman boy's eyes looking you up and down excite you, my love?" John nibbled her lobe as he continued to murmur in her ear, "did it arouse you and make you ache between your legs?"

"Oh God! John!" she couldn't answer coherently, couldn't speak properly. All she was aware of was his voice. That low seductive baritone that made a sticky wetness pool between her legs. This man could drive her to insanity in mere seconds. He knew her body and how to elicit the strongest sexual reaction from her.

"Did the desire in his eyes make you want to slide your hand between your legs and rub yourself so fiercely that you would come trembling on the living room floor?" she whimpered in response and John growled.

[To be continued.]

A/N: Well what do you guys think so far? Usually my pieces are much longer in total but I thought it would be easier to bear reading if I broke it down to chapters instead of bogging people down with one whole layer of text.

Since I have been asked and reviewed to extend this universe, I hope this fits the bill! I love being able to dally in this alternate universe, although I must admit I have a few ideas for the regular universe. I have just not been able to put pen to paper. The one that deals with the regular universe post last episode seems to be epically longer than I had first thought. So we'll see if that ever gets posted.

Also, I need to know who you guys want to read about next. Should it be James Watson? Our favorite snarky but charming engineer? Invisible man? Or maybe an introduction of Ashley or Ms. Freelander with a mix of Henry Foss? I leave it all up to you!