Hello lovely Sanctuary fanfic readers/writers. I'm not new to fanfic but this is my first Sanctuary fic, so reviews (good or bad!) will be very gratefully received. I was only recently introduced to the show, but once I started watching I just couldn't stop. It's brilliant, and it's such a shame it didn't get a series 5 :(

As this little fic will prove, I am a shameless Teslen shipper, I love them, and Tesla in particular is the best thing since sliced bread. This fic is currently a oneshot, but if there was demand for more I may well consider it. I just couldn't get this little idea out of my head, so I had to write it up to stop it from bugging me!

Major series 4 spoilers, so read with caution if by some travesty you haven't seen it. If that's the case, what are you doing here, you should be watching it! Ahem... hope you enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Sanctuary or any of its characters, (otherwise there would be a series 5!)

Nikola didn't even know why he was still in Old City, let alone still staying in a hotel with the puppy no less. Two weeks had passed since Helen had destroyed the Sanctuary and, for Heinrich at least, acceptance was setting in. This evening, in a new development to the tedium of waiting, longing for a sign of her survival, William had apparently quit SCIU and had come to see the young HAP. The two friends practically threw themselves into an emotional, tear-fest of a man hug that had Nikola rolling his eyes for the first time since she'd... disappeared, he settled for.

Which led them to tonight. At first the vampire had sneered at the invitation they'd extended to him, drinks they called it, to relive old memories of Magnus and "celebrate her life", in light of there not having been a funeral for her yet. He'd snapped at that, throwing back a particularly bile filled statement that they had known her for a fraction of her life, and how could they celebrate it when they hardly knew her. And in any case, celebrate? What mindless idiocy. If she was gone what could there possibly be left to celebrate?

But she wasn't gone, he reminded himself. She simply couldn't be. He couldn't comprehend it.

William had let his tirade slide admirably for as long as he could, but he had eventually lost patience and bellowed out, "Fine, you stay and wallow but we need this, Henry needs this, and no matter how much you avoid the subject, you do too! So, for once in your life,stop being so selfish!"

He had chanced a look at Henry at that and realised he had been hard on the young HAP since the explosion, and that he felt guilty about that. Through the haze of shock still occupying his system, he came to the conclusion that the man had, to his mind at least, lost a mother and a father figure, a home, a job, everything, all on the same night. Nikola's heart wasn't the only one breaking.

So out of loyalty to her he had agreed to go with them, though insisted that they go somewhere upmarket with good wine at least. She'd always appreciated a good vintage.

Appreciates, thought Nikola, she appreciates a good vintage.

William had gone easy on him after that, clearly using his self-proclaimed knowledge of people to psychoanalyse that what was driving the vampire's temper was grief. He was wrong of course, Nikola wasn't grieving. To grieve he would have to accept that she was gone, and he would never do that. After all, he'd come back from the dead, more than once in fact, as had she, and Helen had certainly never been one to bore her audience. That was one of the things he loved about her.

The two boys, because that's all they were to the old vampire, sat in a booth drinking all manner of concoctions and telling stories of their old boss. Nikola opted for propping up the bar alone, perched, or more aptly slouching, on a bar stool drinking anything he could find on the wine list that he had ever shared with her. With each fresh glass the barman, an over-muscled, fake tan sporting youngster who set Nikola's teeth on edge, looked at him warily, no doubt wondering why he didn't appear to be even remotely tipsy despite being on glass number... Nikola had long lost count but it must be well into double figures by now. The vampire couldn't care less. What did he care about anonymity? It didn't really seem important anymore.

He was sulking, he realised, elbow on bar and chin resting in hand, he must look thoroughly fed up. The children had started laughing as they recounted the past now through a drunken haze. It grated on Nikola's nerves. He'd been here long enough to show his support for Henry, it was past time for him to be back at the hotel wallowing in private.

Just as he was about to stand, the barman came over once more.

"I'm leaving," Nikola waved him away noncommitally, "and I'm not driving, don't worry."

"No, sir, someone left you this." The barman handed him a neatly folded piece of paper. Nikola frowned, his shriveled heart leaping suddenly in his chest.

"When?" He all but snapped.

"Almost half an hour ago."

"What!? Why didn't you give it to me then?" He did snap then, almost forgetting to hold back the vampiric transformation that threatened. The barman stuttered slightly.

"She said to wait an hour, but as you were leaving I guessed I'd better give it to you now..."

"She? She who? Where?" Nikola looked around the busy bar frantically.

"She left as soon as she handed me the note. Mid thirties maybe, dark hair, hot..."

"Yes, yes, go away now." Nikola waved the barman away again, attention focussed on the paper in his hands. The young man scowled at him but left him to it with only a tsk of annoyance.

Oh, he was going to kill her. If she turned out not to be dead, he was going to make it happen...

He unfolded the note slowly, trying not to raise his hopes too much before he knew for sure.

Nikola,

Meet me at the East gate (what's left of it) at midnight. Don't tell the others, and come alone.

You know who.

P.S. You look hot.

Her parody of the note he'd given to her in Rome was not lost on him, and later he might dwell on whether she meant her closing statement with any sincerity or if it was pure mirth, but right then all he could do was stare at the paper and read the words over and over again. She was alive. She must be. Who else could it possibly be?

"Son. Of. A. Bitch!" Nikola yelled, slapping the bar in frustration when he finally stopped reading it over and over. He stuffed it into one of his trouser pockets before standing, the stool making an almighty noise that had most of the packed bar looking at him as he practically ripped his suit jacket from the back of the stool and hurried outside.

"What's wrong with Vlad?" Henry slurred as they watched him leave.

"They probably ran out of his favourite 1945 Bordeaux or something." Will replied, voice equally as wobbly.

Nikola was early, but exactly where else was he going to go? He felt inexplicably close to her here, and had visited this gate a few times in the weeks that had passed since the Sanctury's destruction. Tributes had been left for her and Biggy by various friends and colleagues at the West gate on the other side of the site, so he'd avoided it, angered by their lack of faith in her ability to cheat death again, though while, if he was honest, slowly losing faith himself.

He'd stood here for three days and nights after the explosion, waiting for her to appear picking her way across the rubble towards him. He'd watched diligently as the fires raged, the fire crews accepting it was best for the inferno simply to burn itself out as no other buildings were at risk, which it finally did on the second day. He kept on watching as the few blackened stone walls that still stood tumbled one by one. He strained his ears listening for the accurate sounds of tapping or movement under the rubble that would indicate that she was trapped somewhere.

He would have stayed longer had Heinrich and the Booty not half dragged his numb form away to the hotel they were calling home for now, insisting that even vampires needed to rest. Kate had since reluctantly returned to Hollow Earth, leaving him and Henry alone in their separate misery for the past week.

The sound of heeled footsteps on the street behind him shook him from his reverie like a gunshot. Fitting really, given the number of times she had shot him for real in their long history.

He took a moment to turn around, suddenly afraid that it wouldn't be her, or that his mind was playing tricks on him.

He needn't have worried of course.

There she was, all charcoal suit-dress, long legs and killer heels just as perfect as she'd always been, long black coat undone despite the chill, hood pulled up, to conceal her identity he assumed. In the back of his mind he took this as confirmation, she had indeed done all this to fake her own death.

Of course, all he could do was stare. Gawp was more appropriate. She finally came to a stop a good ten feet from him, bottom lip caught between her teeth in a gesture of how much trouble she knew she was in.

"Hello." Helen greeted him sheepishly.

He stood still, just looking at her for a minute, drinking in the sight of her. She had a few superficial cuts that he could see all but healed, but other than that she was a picture of health. She waited patiently, letting him make the first move.

Before he even knew what he was doing he strode over to her and clamped his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, tugging her against him roughly by her coat, not caring whether she wanted him to or not. But she responded instantly and in kind, returning his frantic kiss as though she'd always known what he would do in this moment.

The kiss was a mess of tongues and teeth, hands wandering where they could with their clothing in the way. He nipped at her lips hard, silently admonishing her he supposed, one hand fisting into her hair roughly, growling when she moaned into his mouth at the action. It wasn't gentle or tender, as he'd imagined this moment would be the few times he had let himself dream that she would come back to him like this, but he needed to know that it was real, that she was real, and he needed her to know in no uncertain terms that what she had done to him was not ok. He was so angry with her, but he didn't really care about that. She was safe, and she was alive, and in these few moments at least, she was his. He didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but when he pulled back for air, foreheads resting together and eyes closed, they were both panting hard.

"You bitch. You complete and utter bitch." He ground out breathlessly.

"I know."

"Have you any idea what you've put me through? What you've put Henry through?"

Hands bunched in her coat again, he pulled back further to look at her. Her lips were now slightly swollen and red, eyes both apologetic and clouded with lust at the same time. Ignoring how damn hot she looked in that state, he shook her hard a few times, hissing angrily through gritted teeth, "Don't you ever do anything like that to me again Helen!"

"Never again, I promise." She agreed softly, shaking her head. He dove in to kiss her again, though this time more gently, passionately, the way he'd wanted to before.

"I'm sorry," she murmured against his lips as his nose nuzzled hers when he pulled back again, "I'm so, so sorry."

"I'm sure you can think of a way to make it up to me, eventually." He whispered out of habit but without conviction, trailing soft kisses down her neck. Instead of tutting though as she might have before, she chuckled throatily, and he knew for definite now that something between them had changed. Perhaps that brief kiss in the lab two weeks ago really had been more than just a friendly goodbye.

About time too, he thought to himself.

"What now?" He asked, pulling away to look at her again.

"Now," she smiled, "two things. First, we go back to my hotel room because you and I have unfinished business to attend to," he nearly groaned in anticipation at that, sincerely hoping she meant what he thought she did, her confirming smirk sending a shiver through him. Yes, things had definitely changed between them...

"And then?" He said after swallowing hard.

"And then tomorrow, I show you the reason for all this. And after that, we bring Henry in on it, and if he can ever trust me again Will too. You were right, I was holding something back, and for a very long time too."

"Obviously, genius remember."

"Well genius," she smiled at him, reaching a hand up to stroke his cheek with her thumb, "even you won't be expecting what I have in store for you, I promise you that."

"Are we talking about tonight or tomorrow?" He asked completely seriously. She laughed and replied huskily.

"Both. I have a lot of making up to do..."

Hope you enjoyed that, please review if you feel so obliged as they make me feel all warm and fuzzy, and especially if you'd like some more :) Thanks for reading! x