Disclaimer--i dont own these characters. im just messing with them cuz my brain told me too.

I changed a few things from the way the episodes of season2 have played out, hopefully for the better, i think you'll spot them as you go. This is my first story so bear with me if i crash and burn :-)

She had kept it stowed away secretly in the drawer of her nightstand, after that fated night in Rome. Upon finally returning to the Sanctuary and her room to change, she had found it stuffed deep down in her pocket, a little crinkled but still in one piece. Despite all that had transpired it still caused a smile to spread across her lips and so she impulsively decided to tuck it away in the drawer. It was a funny thing for her to do, and she knew it, but she liked to take it out every now and then glance over its simple words in the 'p.s.' and then look in the mirror and think,

"Does he really think so?"

These small moments had been occurring more recently due partially to his sudden reappearance during the search for the source blood. Which in turn caused her slumbering brain to begin replaying that moment when his lips captured hers and stole all the breath in her body. She would awake the next instant and still feel the ambrosial tingle of his lips. Her mind was wandering more and more to him, pondering where he could be, picturing that snarky smile of his, and just wishing to see him again. She knew this, too, was odd for her since she had never seen herself as, or had really ever been, the type of woman who was attracted to the "bad boys." Even John was, logically speaking, a better choice than him since John was never hell bent on total world domination. But something about those lips and the way his cavernous eyes looked at her, and her body, was simply exhilarating. A way she had not felt in many years, and very much enjoyed.

It was from one of these dream memories that Helen was woken abruptly one morning. She had recently returned from hunting down any and all abnormal's with Cabal contact that may know something, anything, about Ashley. There was a knock on her bedroom door causing her to rise quickly, throw a robe on over her night clothes, ignore her tingling lips and say,

"Yes, c'mon in, what is it?"

Henry cautiously peaked his head through a crack between the door and the frame before stepping in and stuttering,

"Uhm, there's a uh visitor for you in your office. Big Guy has whomever it is cornered in there and won't let me in but I have my guesses so you may want to get down there as soon as possible."

Helen gave Henry a slightly puzzled look and replied,

"Very well. I'll be right down."

After throwing on the nearest black skirt, shirt and boots Helen whisked herself downstairs to her office. Her mind was a whirl with possibilities and questions. Her assumption was that John had returned after his immediate disappearance upon returning her here, thus explaining Big Guy's reaction. This assumption was immediately proven wrong when her hands brushed the door open and her eyes caught sight of that deviously handsome smile.