Title: Lady Luck

Author: Janine

Fandom: Warehouse 13

Pairing: Myka/HG

Rating:PG

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Summary: Myka comes across H.G. on an assignment, but even though she knows she should stay away from her, she just can't.

Note: The story takes place during Season 2, after "For the Team" but before "Vendetta".

xxx

Part Three

A lazy smile rested on Myka's lips as she leaned back in her chair and watched Helena sway to the music playing from the cheap radio-alarm clock on her nightstand. The station Helena had stopped on was playing sultry 50s era music with swelling melodies, shining vocals, and sweeping waves of strings, horns, and percussion. The music was classic. It was timeless and elegant and the contented sigh that had fallen from Helena's lips when she came across the station – after having been inundated with the loud, arrhythmic, auto-tuned, lyrically inane popular music on the other stations – had forced Myka to take a sip of her drink to stop herself from laughing.

If they were not yet truly drunk by the time Helena declared that 'good drink, good company and good music' went together and then marched over to the 'radio machine' to generate some music, then they were well on their way to becoming drunk. Not that that stopped Myka from sliding her glass back over to Helena when the other woman lifted up the bottle and shook it tantalizingly from side to side.

"If I seem to boast more than is becoming," Helena drawled, winking at Myka as she leaned forward to fill her glass, "my excuse is that I brag for humanity rather than for myself," she continued, ending the pour with a flourish.

"That's obscure," Myka complained, pouting slightly as she looked over at Helena.

"Does that mean you don't know the answer?" Helena asked, her smile growing in smugness.

"No," Myka muttered petulantly.

The quote sounded familiar but she was having a hard time focusing and couldn't quite get the fragments floating through her mind to come together and form a whole.

"Ugh," Myka groaned a few seconds later. "Not fair. I'm drunk and you're being ... obscure," Myka complained, frowning slightly when she couldn't think of another word to describe Helena's choice of quotes.

"Henry David Thoreau is not obscure," Helena responded, her slowed speech testifying to her own state of intoxication.

"Thoreau," Myka moaned dropping her head into her hands. "I did know that one," she sighed. "Damn, scotch," she exclaimed turning to glare at the amber liquid in her glass before she shot Helena a smirk and picked it up, finishing off what was inside.

Helena laughed softly, and then, still smiling, she lifted the bottle again and shook it at Myka.

"I'm gonna hate you in the morning," Myka mumbled, but she pushed her glass across the table to Helena anyway.

"Never," Helena declared. "You'll hate solid foods and sunlight in the morning," she continued as she smiled over at Myka, "but you'll remember me quite fondly. After all, one doesn't swear off their friends after consuming too much whiskey. One swears off whiskey."

Myka shook her head as she reached across the table to retrieve her glass, but her lips were curved up in a smile.

"My turn," Myka said as she leaned back, settling more comfortably into her chair.

Helena simply smiled at her and nodded for her to continue.

"Every time I see an adult on a bicycle, I no longer despair for the future of the human race."

Helena blinked as the last word fell from Myka's lips, and then she blinked again and again before she drew in a sharp breath and leaned back in her chair, looking vaguely shell-shocked.

"I always loved bicycles," Helena murmured eventually, looking up to meet Myka's eyes before her lips twitched up again. "I must admit I'm surprised, that of all of the things to fall from my lips, that one survived the test of time."

"I don't know," Myka said softly, smiling with a gentle self-consciousness as she looked across at Helena. "I've always liked that quote. Every time I've heard it, it's reminded me that all a person needs to do to find beautiful and wondrous things in the world, is look," she breathed out, smiling gently. "It reminds me that even though there are bad things and bad apples out there, that there are also good things and good apples, and that they're worth fighting for and believing in," Myka continued, though her voice slowed and became a little self-conscious as Helena stared at her unblinkingly, her dark eyes holding steadfastly on Myka's as she spoke. "And I've learned something new about myself tonight. Apparently I'm a maudlin drunk," Myka murmured a few seconds later, looking down at the table top since it didn't seem as if Helena was going to look away from her.

"It's not maudlin," Helena breathed out roughly. "It's remarkable," she exhaled, shaking her head slightly before she offered Myka a shaky smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You've seen so much, and yet ..." Helena sighed softly. "I've seen many adults on bicycles since waking in this time," she began again, toying restlessly with her glass. "It's not as inspiring as it once was," she admitted sadly. "There are so many wonders in this world but no magic. Humanity has created so much and destroyed even more. We've pawned our spirituality for tiny telephones that let us do violence with cartoon birds. The air shimmers with filth. In places the ocean has turned black. Doves," she choked out, "fall from the heavens. People burn, and they shoot, and they rape. Disease runs rampant, poverty sweeps the globe, nature punishes us and still ..."

Helena's hand reached up to clasp the locket she always wore around her neck as she forced herself to stop and take a deep breath to regain her composure. Her voice had begun to shake and her body began to tremble in passionate despair, and she could see that she was beginning to alarm Myka.

"I had such belief in the future. I wanted to wake up in a better world," Helena sighed a few seconds later, her body no longer trembling though her voice was still unsteady. "Most of the time I don't think I have. So many of the things I've seen have grieved me ... but then I see you, and ... breath comes easier," Helena exhaled softly as she looked deeply into Myka eyes. "There are so many things to marvel at in this age, yet you are the only thing that has made my soul rejoice. I doubted it at times, but you've shown me that beauty lives," Helena whispered, smiling tremulously as she gazed at Myka, "that hope has not yet died."

Myka blinked rapidly, trying to contain the tears welling in her eyes as she gazed across the table at Helena, and instinctively her hand stretched out, reaching for Helena's hand which she squeezed. Helena released a soft, embarrassed laugh when Myka took hold of her hand, but she squeezed back and a single tear fell from the corner of her eye before she turned her head from Myka and allowed the dark curtain of her hair to obscure her face.

It was a risk, they hadn't shared much physical contact with each other – prolonged or otherwise – but Myka could not sit there and watch Helena cry without trying to soothe her in some way. So, with their hands still joined, Myka stood and moved to stand in front of Helena. The movement drew Helena's head up, and when their eyes met, Myka tugged on Helena's hand, urging her to stand. Helena stared at her for a moment, her enchantingly dark eyes scanning Myka's face contemplatively, and then she allowed Myka to help her to her feet and when Myka's arms wrapped securely around her, drawing her into a hug, Helena sighed and clung to Myka with all of the strength she had.

Myka wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but it was long enough for the character of the hug to change. As they stood pressed against each other, the desperation of the embrace eventually eased until they were more resting against each other than clutching at each other, and as Helena's body relaxed into her, Myka began to slowly run her hand up and down Helena's back, trailing her fingers up and down her spine soothingly as Helena buried her face in Myka's neck, basking in the scent of vanilla that still lingered on Myka's skin from her bath.

When Helena eventually pulled away from Myka's body so that she could see Myka's face, her skin was slightly flushed and she felt drunker than the three glasses of scotch had made her, and more peaceful than she had felt since Christina's death. She felt nearly human with Myka's body against hers. She felt nearly happy, and when Myka whispered her name, voice soft and concerned, Helena couldn't resist tilting her head up and pressing her lips against Myka's.

Myka gasped in surprise at the first touch of Helena's lips, but as soon as she comprehended that Helena was actually kissing her, her arm tightened around Helena's waist, drawing the other woman more firmly against her and her other hand lifted to the back of Helena's neck, holding her securely as Myka eagerly returned her kiss.

Before long, all that Myka was aware of was the taste of Helena's lips, and the feel of her hands as they started to roam anxiously over her body.

The kiss had started softly, sweetly, the contact coming as a bit of a surprise to both of them, but once their lips were joined, desire flared to life inside of them, and like women possessed they began to kiss fiercely as their hands wandered, searching beneath clothes for naked, heated skin.

Myka wasn't even aware that they had begun to move, that she had begun to lead Helena towards the bed until Helena was laughing as she fell back onto the mattress. As Myka looked down at her, her brain cleared for a moment and she realized that she had just essentially taken Helena to bed, and for a moment she wondered if they should stop. But then Helena smiled at her and whispered her name and Myka was in motion again, leaning down to kiss Helena as she slipped onto the mattress and covered Helena's body with her own.

As Myka draped her body over Helena's she was vaguely aware of the sound of something hitting the ground, but Helena was arching up to kiss her and her hand was drawing Myka's towards her breast and Myka lost all interest in anything that wasn't Helena Wells.

"Hello?"

Helena gasped as Myka's hand surged under her shirt and palmed her breast.

"Hello?"

"That feels so good," Helena sighed as Myka began to massage her breast. "So good," she whispered, eyes closing as she tilted her head back onto the pillow, exposing her throat to Myka who immediately shifted down to begin nipping and licking at the tantalizing expanse of flesh.

"HELLO?"

Helena's eyes opened as Myka sucked on her pulse point, and her hips twitched as she groaned out her pleasure, but even as her hand migrated to Myka's head and her fingers tangled in curly hair, her eyebrows drew together in consternation. She was certain that she had heard something, a voice, but Myka's hands and mouth were still busy on her body, and Helena nearly convinced herself that she was hearing things when...

"Hello? Myka? Myka do you read? What's with all the heavy breathing? Are you watching a porno over there?"

Myka lifted her head from Helena's lips and met Helena's eyes, her brows drawing together in confusion.

"Pete?" she called out with some trepidation and alarm.

"The last time I checked," Pete's disembodied voice replied.

"Oh my god!" Myka exclaimed, her eyes going wide as she looked down at Helena – who seemed to be trying to contain the urge to laugh – and the compromising position they were in. "Where are you?" Myka called out to Pete, looking around the room frantically, trying to determine where he was and how much he could have seen.

"In my room," Pete responded slowly, over enunciating every word as if he were talking to a small child or an animal.

"Myka," Helena whispered drawing Myka's wide-eyes back down to her. "I think he's on the Farnsworth. It must have opened when you hastily removed your bag from the bed."

"Oh," Myka gasped, suddenly realizing what that thump she had heard earlier was. "Oh," she gasped louder a second later.

She regarded Helena silently for a moment and then she pressed the index finger of her right hand to her lips to indicate that Helena should be quiet. Helena nodded, and Myka rolled off of her and off the side of the bed that Pete's voice was coming from.

"Sorry, it was an accident," Myka said a bit breathlessly, jostling the Farnsworth as she picked it up and then shifted on the floor so that the back of the Farnsworth was towards the bed, shielding Helena from view. "I didn't mean to call you."

"I bet you, didn't," Pete responded grinning at Myka in a way that made her feel naked. "Were you watching a porno over there, or were you making one?" Pete asked nodding his head up and down as he continued grinning at her.

"What? No! Shut up, Pete!" Myka exclaimed trying very hard to ignore the fact that Helena was also grinning at her from the bed.

"Why do you have sex hair?" Pete asked knowingly.

"I don't have sex hair!" Myka denied, though she couldn't help reaching up with her free hand to pat down her curls, which, to her despair, did seem suspiciously out of order.

"Why's your shirt all undone?" Pete asked. "Just giving the girls room to breathe or was someone Opheila-ing your boobies?"

Myka glanced down and had to bite back the urge to sigh as she realized that at some point Helena had started to undo her shirt, unbuttoning it to just below her bra. Once they made it to the bed, her movements had drawn the edges of the shirt open a bit, and Myka could see that a part of her bra was indeed showing.

"I was just getting ready for bed," Myka grumbled morosely knowing, even as she said it, that Pete wouldn't buy it for a second.

"Methinks you were already in bed," Pete smirked. "Will I meet him at breakfast, or is he just a toy to satisfy your tawdry sexual urges?"

"Ew, Pete! Don't ever talk about my sexual urges. As far as you're concerned I'm a nun. And for the record, I do not have a man in my room!"

"Swear?" Pete asked, "On Mr. Bear's life?"

Myka blushed profusely at the mention of her stuffed bear, and when Helena looked over at her and arched a curious dark eyebrow, Myka made a mental note to hit Pete repeatedly on the arm when she saw him in the morning.

"Yes, okay. I swear on Mr. Bear that there is no man in my room," Myka said, biting down on her lip to stop herself from smiling as Helena smiled at her knowingly from the bed.

"Okay," Pete said though he was still clearly suspicious. "But if you have a hickey tomorrow you have some 'splaining to do," he continued in his best Ricky Ricardo voice. "Sweet dreams," he finished with a wink, and with that the Farnsworth went dark.

Myka placed the Farnsworth down on the ground and then closed her eyes and sighed.

"I believe," Helena began, slipping off of the bed and then moving towards Myka, "that in today's vernacular, it would be appropriate to say that Pete just 'cock-blocked' you."

Myka's eyes opened and though she was still slightly miserable, an easy laugh escaped from her at Helena's words.

"Ace use of modern slang," Myka replied mischievously, grinning when Helena playfully pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her.

"You're never going to let me live that down are you?" Helena sighed as her lips curved up into a gentle smile and she settled herself on the floor beside Myka so that they were leaning shoulder to shoulder against the wall.

"No," Myka replied unrepentantly, eyes shining with humour. "I ..." Myka paused and blushed again as she look down into her lap. "I thought it was cute," she admitted. "You were like a kid in a candy shop," she went on, tentatively looking over at Helena.

"Perhaps so, but rest assured," Helena breathed out, reaching out to take Myka's hand into her own. "You delight me more than any comically small, gravity defying squares of paper could ever hope to."

Myka rolled her eyes at that, but couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"That really shouldn't be so sweet," she murmured, but she thought it was, and if the smile that touched Helena's lips was any indication, Helena knew she found it sweet too. "Should we talk about ..." Myka began, her eyes drifting towards the bed.

"Not tonight," Helena interjected softly, offering Myka a small smile.

She didn't think that Myka would try to deny the attraction between them, but her emotional state was a bit too precarious at that moment to risk having the type of conversation she had suffered through far too many times in her old life.

"It's late," Helena observed, glancing over at the digital alarm-clock. "I should let you get some rest," she whispered, though she made no attempt to release Myka's hand.

Helena's voice was reluctant and Myka could tell that she didn't really want to go. The truth was Myka didn't really want to let go of Helena yet either. They had been operating on alcohol and instinct before when they had fallen into bed, but they were thinking more clearly at the moment and Myka knew that they should talk before allowing things to go further – if things went further at all. But Helena was right, it was late, she was tired, and though she was thinking more clearly than she had been half an hour before, she was still drunk.

"You don't have to leave to do that," Myka said softly, staring out into the depths of the hotel room. "You could stay here. We could sleep. Just sleep," Myka added hastily before she finally turned to face Helena to gauge her reaction.

"I don't want to impose," Helena said.

"You wouldn't be," Myka breathed out. "I kind of like your company, you know," she murmured a moment later, blushing again.

"I did suspect," Helena replied as she looked down at her dishevelled clothing, making Myka blush even more, "but I didn't want to be presumptuous."

"When it comes to me wanting to spend time with you, you can be," Myka replied, embarrassed by the truth of her words, but wanting to say them anyway.

Helena had opened up to her and shared so much with her that night that it only seemed fair.

They regarded each other for a few seconds, and then with an aching slowness, Helena leaned forward until their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss that made Myka sigh with contentment.

"I'd like to stay," Helena whispered against Myka's lips moments later, and Myka smiled brightly before leaning forward to capture her lips again.

xxx

When Myka awoke the next morning, she was alone in the bed, but the scent of Helena lingered in the air, and on the pillow beside her laid a single red-rose and a folded note. Myka glanced at the digital display on the alarm clock and a smile touched her lips as she wondered where Helena had managed to find a rose so early in the morning.

Myka's fingers trailed over the pristine whiteness of the pillows towards the flower, but as her fingers gently brushed against the stem, a tantalizing scent reached her nose and she sat up in the bed and scanned the room. Within seconds her eyes landed on the small table where she and Helena had sat the night before. Resting on the table was a tray with a small pot of tea, a glass of orange juice, some fresh fruit and a croissant, and Myka's hand automatically lifted to her chest and covered her heart.

Helena, she thought longingly.

She stared at the breakfast spread for a few more moments, basking in the warmth Helena's sweetness and consideration had sent coursing through her, but eventually she spurred herself into motion, and carefully gathering up her flower and Helena's note, she slipped off of the bed and made her way over to the table.

Taking a seat, Myka poured herself a cup of tea, and then she reached for Helena's note and opened it with shaking hands.

My darling Myka,

I hope that next time we meet the Fates will smile on us and allow us to break our fast together, but until then know that you are on my mind and in my heart always, and that I live in anticipation of the day when my lips may once again meet yours.

-Helena

P.S. The green fruit slices are quite delicious. I made some inquires and learned that they are commonly known as 'honeydew' melon. You may already be familiar with these succulent morsels, but if you are not I highly recommend you try them.

Myka's lips curved up into a smile as she read Helena's addendum, and a soft delighted laugh escaped from her lips before her expression turned gentle again and she reached out and slowly traced Helena's name with the tip of her finger.

Myka had never had much luck in love or casinos, but as she brought the rose Helena had given her up to her nose and breathed in, Myka thought that perhaps Lady Luck had finally smiled upon her.

The End