Alrighties, here we go. My second (and final) contribution to the Olympic relay. I was tasked with Demeter, goddess of fertile earth, agriculture and the seasons.

Next up is alwayssmilingsam who is going to try her hand with Apollo.

This is a timewarp Helen fic, set nowhere in particular but sometime after the turn of the century. Also, tried something new with dialogue so feedback is welcomed :)

xx

Helen flicked the dirt from under her nails absently, eyes glazed as she stared into the small fire. She didn't have the energy to heat the water for a proper bath, it would have to wait until morning instead.

Her dinner lay untouched before her, an assortment of fresh vegetables soaked in the pot of gravy the nearest tenants gave her along with what she suspected was about half their roast beef. In all honesty, she could afford to have food shipped in directly should she so choose but there was something more satisfying about eating the food that her lands had produced. The ground was fertile and the produce abundant. Even with the amount of food they were putting into stores for the coming cold season, they had more than enough to go around.

No one had gone hungry in a great many years.

She enjoyed being out here, it gave her the opportunity to plan and work without needing to operate in the dead of night. She was anonymous, the good Ms Bancroft who was a good and kind landlord to those who worked her fields. Not Helen, not Doctor, not a woman out of place and out of time.

The only drawback was that she was totally alone. Of course, those who lived on her lands were her friends and she was always invited to weddings and parties and the like but... But when she looked into their eyes, the recognition was shallow.

Even James had not managed to find her here. It had been almost one long decades since she'd seen anyone from her other life and while the anonymity held benefits, she could not deny the ache she felt to simply hold the hand of someone who understood her without words.

She knew she shouldn't have called him, at this time he was barely able to afford his rent, let alone a flight to the backside of beyond to see her. Further than that, despite the fact that he wasn't in regular contact with her other self, she knew this was a risky decision. But she had called him and he had agreed to come when he could.

It was almost like old times, when she'd pick up the phone, offer a terse greeting which only he could interpret and then sit back and wait for his arrival. Of course, they were yet to get to that stage of their relationship in his timeline.

She had no idea when he would arrive, or if he even would (his word meant frustratingly little at this time) and so when the knock on the wooden door of her frigid little hut came, she jumped and lunged for the shot gun.

Hand wrapped around the cool metal, she twisted in her seat, on edge. No one came this late. The moon was high in the sky, hidden by clouds and the lack of lighting meant that the paths that passed for streets were never used this late into the evening.

Through the grubby little window beside the door she could see a figure peeking in. The rough curtains she had partially drawn across blocked most of the stranger from view but when the knock sounded again, this time faster and more impatient, she had a fair idea of who her guest was.

It made her heart leap into her throat. It had been so long, too long and she knew he'd see the difference in her. It was about more than just her hair colour.

The premise that she asked him here to help with her work on the power source was a flimsy one at best. If she needed something from them, from any of them, she always went to see them. Always. Inviting them to see her was dangerous, it was inviting trouble and so she always, always went to see them.

Until tonight.

Tonight she had been reckless, tonight she had been stupid and tonight, she was now certain, would be the catalyst for the great big trouble she'd been working so hard to avoid for all these years.

"Helen?"

She stood, dropping her grip on the gun.

"Helen? Are you in there?"

He knocked again.

"For god's sake, Helen. Open the door! I'm freezing out here."

"Hi," she said softly, barely noticing the chill of the late autumn air.

"Move, move," he grumbled, pushing her aside and scrambling into the meagre warmth her home would provide. It was unseasonably cold for the time of year which and she could feel the biting wind outside through her thick jumper and warm undershirt. Of course, the fact that she only wore socks wasn't helping the matter.

Her visitor blustered in, carrying only one small case. He plucked the hat from his head and tossed it into the corner, stepping closer to the fire as he stripped off the thick woollen coat he wore. It was tossed over her single armchair, quickly followed by his scarf and gloves.

"Bloody freezing," he muttered as she closed the door. "Why on earth did you want to meet out here, of all places?"

Helen couldn't move. Whether it was the cold air or just his presence, she was simply rooted to the spot, watching as he poked the fire, rubbing his hands together before muttering once more about unacceptable conditions and the way in which she abused his friendship.

Only when he turned, giving her a perplexed look did she remember to speak.

"Helen? Why are you just standing there? Come over here and greet me properly! I've travelled hundreds of miles in this miserable weather to be-."

She crossed the room in three easy steps and took his head in her hands, silencing him with a deep kiss. He protested for about three seconds, arms flung wide as he yelped against her lips before seeming to wise up, wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her with enough enthusiasm to make her light headed.

Breaking the kiss, Helen pulled back with a gasp, blinking rapidly.

"You always did know how to get my attention."

She smiled, clearing her throat uncomfortably as she stepped from his embrace. He let her go quickly, straightening out his suit jacket.

Breathing deeply, Helen retreated to the single bed along the far wall.

"Sit," she instructed, gesturing to the chair he'd covered in clothes.

He nodded faintly and did just that, carefully shifting the coat and scarf out of the way.

For a moment neither spoke, simply listening to the silence that drifted over them both.

"Did you make this?" he asked, poking at her untouched dinner.

She nodded, tugging her legs underneath her body. She was in the shadows, hidden mostly from his gaze. Or she would have been if it wasn't for those pesky enhanced senses.

"I helped with the harvest. They thought it best to repay me for my services."

He poked again at the vegetables, raising an eyebrow.

"Have you become a farmer now?"

"Hardly."

"Good. I don't think I could cope with that."

Her lips quirked into a smile.

"Thank you for coming."

"Why did you ask me?"

"Do you want something to drink?"

"Helen."

"Nikola."

He sighed.

"This could go in circles."

"It is going in circles."

"Only because you don't answer my questions."

"Ask easier questions."

He paused, cocking his head.

"Why are you so different?"

She looked away, avoiding the probing gaze of her long time friend and soon to be lover.

"It's been too long."

"It has."

He didn't say what she knew he had to be thinking. Because of you.

Helen bit back a sigh and shuffled forwards so that her legs hung off the edge.

"How have you been?"

"Well enough. And you?"

She shrugged.

"I thought you were in Oxford again."

"I was."

"And now you're here?"

"Yes."

"Farming."

She smiled.

"Something like that."

"Helen?"

"Yes?"

There was a beat.

"Why are you farming?"

There was such sweet incredulity in his voice that she couldn't help but laugh. It was a deep, belly laugh, reaching all the way from her toes to the top of her head. He smiled, clueless at the cause of her joy, interlacing his fingers as he waited for her to quiet.

"Just like old times," he said, shaking his head. "You burst out into uncontrollable laughter while I sit idly by. Only you've never done that before."

Letting out one last breath chuckle, Helen smiled at him.

"You have not changed one bit, Nikola."

"Considering you last saw me only two weeks ago, I'd hope not."

She bit her lip at that. It seemed she'd gotten her times mixed. She had intended to contact him when it had been six months since their uncomfortable farewell in Colorado Springs. She'd come to visit him, he'd been so busy he barely noticed and, instead of the slightly heated kiss she had hoped to receive, they'd ended up parting with little more than a terse 'good bye'.

She wanted to apologise for the behaviour of her younger self, she wanted to try and wipe the hurt that was now making its way across his features but she couldn't. That was a task the younger Helen had to do herself in three years time when they were reunited properly and Nikola, for some reason, would literally sweep her off her feet, hoisting her high into the air and making her shriek with delight.

He would treat her like some precious jewel, like the most delightful thing he'd ever seen and while she would sink into it for a time, it would only serve to set Helen on edge. After that they'd continue to use each other when needed but he learnt very quickly that his doting was not going to work.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Please."

The task put Helen's mind at ease and she was able to sink into it rather than dwelling on the problem in her armchair.

"I've not got any wine left sorry," she said over her shoulder. She continued to fumble through the small cupboard, searching for anything he might enjoy. "Will brandy do?"

He sighed heavily but when she turned, nodded his assent.

"How have you been?"

"You already asked that," he told her as she poured the drinks. Her hand shook slightly.

"I suppose I did."

Helen made herself concentrate only on the amber liquid, measuring out a little more than she normally allowed for a serve.

"I'm still well," he quipped. "I mean, better if you'd look at me but well enough."

She smiled faintly and turned, offering a glass to him. For a moment she weighed her options. It was either the cold corner that was her bed or the floor beside the fire.

She chose the floor.

Sinking to the carpet, she smiled up at him, pressing her back to the warm stones beside her little hearth. Nikola blinked once in surprise, following her movements with raised eyebrows but seemed to come to terms with it quickly, barely blinking as she curled her legs up.

"How was your trip down here?"

"Cold, miserable and cramped," he whined. "I had to travel second class."

"You should have told me, I'd have arranged a fair for you."

He frowned.

"Is something the matter?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Well, normally your response to my lack of financials is significantly less... sympathetic."

"I asked you here, the least I could have done was to assure you safe and comfortable passage."

"Who are you and what have you done with Helen?"

She chuckled, looking down into her drink.

"You've caught me in a good mood I'm afraid. I'm liable to offer all sorts of kindnesses," she told him, smirking from beneath her lashes.

"That, my dear Helen, was a loaded statement."

"Quite."

She watched as his eyes widened and she wondered if she'd made the right choice. Shaking away the doubt she steeled herself. No, this was what she had wanted. No one but him could supply her with what she so needed today, he was the one she turned to for a very good reason. Because she could. He allowed it and she had little doubt that he would allow it again now.

"How is your work coming along?"

"Can we not talk about that?"

"Oh."

"Indeed. Blasted Marconi."

"I'm sorry, Nikola," she tried.

"Don't be. This was what I needed, a distraction from them all."

She smiled and sat up a little straighter, toes curling into the rug beneath her feet.

"And what of your birds? Do they still keep you company?"

His face dropped and he looked away.

"Nikola?"

"I think they have been poisoned. Or captured. Or... or something."

"Perhaps they have merely moved on to another kind soul who makes sure to feed them?"

His pained silence near broke her heart.

"Oh Nikola, I'm sure they'll come back to you soon enough."

Shuffling forwards, she came to a stop by his feet, placing a hand on his knee, squeezing gently.

He smiled down at her, resting one hand on her cheek gently. Carefully she moved closer, laying her head on his knee to watch the flames dancing away. His hand moved to card through her hair, smoothing it down with simple strokes until she thought she could fall asleep that way.

"Will you stay here through the winter?" he asked, soft voice startling her ever so slightly.

"Probably."

"It's too cold."

"I have a coat."

"Come back with me."

At that she pulled her head back and carefully placed her half full glass on the nearest table. Not meeting his eye, she stood.

"I think I shall go to bed now. I promised to help with the last early harvest tomorrow."

Stripping off her jumper, she turned away, tossing it carelessly beside the bed. She double checked that the fire was slowly dying before tossing back the mountain of quilts atop her bed.

Nikola stood and cleared his throat.

"Is there a hotel or inn nearby?"

"Take off your jacket and waistcoat."

"Helen?"

"We shall have to lie close, it's a narrow bed but we've shared narrower."

"Helen?"

"Hurry along Nikola, it's cold and I am tired."

She kept her back to him, fluffing the pillows so as to not lose her cool. Usually they got the crux of these calls much more quickly.

"Helen, tell me what you're doing?"

"It's late, Nikola. Can we just talk in the morning?"

Before she could do so much as sigh, he was on her, body hovering just inches behind her, breath hitting her ear in jagged puffs.

"Helen."

She turned, looping her arms around his waist.

"Just sleep with me tonight," she whispered, her lips flirting with the flushed skin of his neck. "It's cold and you are warm."

He sagged into her, his arms coming around her shoulders as their bodies pressed together.

With trembling fingers, they undressed him. He ignored the jacket and waist coat as they fell, much to her surprise. Instead her popped the buttons of his shirt, tossing it to the floor before returning his hands to her waist.

Running her hands down his chest, Helen swallowed, moving for his belt buckle. Only when he began to drag her thin night shirt up and over her head did she let go of his waist band. By the time it too reached the floor, he was already working on his pants, leaving her to discard hers.

Finally they both straightened, a pile of clothes around their feet. Without preamble, Nikola took her by the hand and dragged her down into the bed. The sheets were cold as they found a comfortable spot, her back pressed firmly to his front. His arm around her waist was strong, holding her in place as if he feared she might run.

His nose buried deep in her hair, lips finding the back of her neck and, with the sweet kiss he placed there, Helen tumbled into sleep.

Blinking against the glue that held her eyelids closed, Helen stretched, smiling as she felt a warm body move with her. His head was pressed to her shoulder, lips hovering against her pulse with one leg thrown across hers haphazardly.

"Helen," he breathed, the word barely registering he was so quiet. He hummed happily, shifting that bit closer and Helen became aware of something prodding her leg. Her body reacted almost instantly to his arousal, lust shooting through her and dispelling the last vestiges of sleep.

Nikola's grip tightened on her and she knew he'd woken properly too. He was careful not to move but the stiffness of his limbs (all puns aside) told her that he had not expected to wake with her in his arms.

"Morning," she whispered, craning her neck to look down at him. Blue grey eyes met her gaze, full of curious wonder. Shifting to avoid the growing cramp in her neck, she brushed her nose against his, laying on her side as he shifted to the same position.

"Morning," he replied when they were settled, the thick quilts still pulled high around their shoulders.

He smiled softly at her, apprehension colouring the expression so she went for broke, leaning across to take his lips in a brief kiss.

She could just about feel his brain piece it all together bit by bit until finally he leant into her and returned the kiss. There was something almost desperate to the kiss, their naked bodies pressed with determination to the others as nails dug into flesh. She fought the burn that begged for oxygen for as long as she could, completely content to allow his attentions to sustain her but he seemed to understand the need of her starved lungs and pulled back.

Gasping, Helen shuddered in his arms, not relinquishing the grip she maintained on his shoulders. He tucked her carefully under his chin for a moment, one hand petting her back in long strokes. Again it was so soothing she could have fallen asleep in moments but instead she pushed him away until he hissed, the cold stone that bordered the narrow bed hitting his bare back.

Moaning, he buried his face in her neck, clinging to her as they rolled, his weight hovering over her.

Helen chuckled, sliding a hand down his back soothingly.

"You're touchy when you first wake," she remarked, enjoying the feel of his soft skin. He as all soft, it had always amazed her how soft he was. His skin, whilst covering firm muscle that was clearly defined, was always soft and smooth unlike his hands. They showed calluses that came from their early days, a time when he was always fiddling with one spark or another. The roughened pads apparently took delight in skirting down her body, leaving trails of pimpled flesh in their wake.

"That wall's bloody cold," he muttered, shifting a bit further down her body until only the top of his head was visible beneath the blankets. Her legs parted instinctively, creating a cradle for him to slip into as his cheek pressed to the valley between her breasts.

Helen chuckled softly, resting her hands on his shoulders, trying her best to ignore the way her body was reacting to his. Turning her head she looked out the small window, watching the weak sunlight work its way into the room. She should have been up with the dawn to help, in fact, she was surprised she hadn't woken then. During the night she'd awoken only once. The sky out the little window had been inky, dotted with small stars as the clouds cleared.

With a quick kiss to Nikola's cheek, she'd tugged him closer and fallen back into sleep. Normally her sleep was broken and short. Last night had been an early night and, more than that, their sleeping arrangements had been cramped. It was a homemade bed, barely wider than a single. He'd spent the night asleep almost on top of her to accommodate their lanky frames in the bed which, last time Helen had tried similar, had resulted in her barely being able to sleep.

But now it was early morning and she had a promise to keep. Brushing off the tenants wasn't something she refused to do and, honestly she was surprised at herself. She should have rolled Nikola over and taken advantage of his arousal that it seemed he was trying his best to keep from her. She wanted to, she really did but... not now.

They didn't normally draw out their encounters like this, it was a rather abrupt experience but he hadn't pushed the issue and neither had she.

"Nikola," she said softly, running a hand through his hair. "We have to get up."

He merely grumbled in response.

"We're going to be late as it is."

"Why do we have to go?" he moaned, tightening his grip on her.

"Because I promised."

He grunted.

"And it will be fun."

He snorted but lifted his head.

"Liar."

"Am not."

"Are too. Out there is cold and involves dirt. Show me the fun."

"Nikola..."

"In here is warm and naked you."

Her breath caught in her chest as he spoke. Logically she knew they would probably have to talk about it, he was too smart to have not seen the changes in her but the talk would come before the sex and that frightened her. She wanted him, oh God how she wanted him but it was... tricky. He knew she was using him in the same way that when she received those certain letters from him, she jumped on the first mode of transport she could find to arrive on his doorstep, ready for whatever he needed of her.

It was what they did. Whenever she truly needed someone to remind her of what 'alive' meant, she always called on him. And he always came, regardless of whatever else was going on in his life just as she came for him. It didn't happen often, three or four times a decade at the most but when they truly needed each other there was no questioning. She couldn't remember why she thought he'd not come this time, looking back she should have known better.

Their meetings always began in the same fashion, with fervent kisses followed by nudity. Sometimes it didn't last longer than a few hours, other times they came to stay for a week or more. It was one of those things they'd both learnt to be able to tell, whether their presence was required for an extended period or if the moment was to be fleeting. Generally Helen knew that if he had her up against the door within three seconds of opening, she was staying until that desperation finally left.

"Do you have coffee?" he asked suddenly, pulling back and sitting up between her legs. He pulled the covers with him, exposing her body to the frigid morning air and his roving gaze.

"Of course not," she said, rolling her eyes and sitting up.

"Not even a little bit? Tucked away perhaps?"

"I have about six kinds of tea at your disposal, Nikola but that is it."

"Brandy for breakfast then?"

He sniggered as she heaved herself out of bed, stretching her arms up and over her head as she sat on the side. Nikola's hands came to rest on her waist, slipping around to sit behind her, his legs dangling beside hers. Slowly he drew his fingertips down her sides to her thighs, massaging the tops of her legs while his lips ghosted up and down her neck.

She covered his hands with her own, rocking her hips back into him, eliciting a dark gasp from him as his nails dug into her flesh.

"Helen," he breathed against her neck. "Helen, Helen, Helen."

A whimper slipped through her lips as he pulled one hand up to shift her hair to her opposite shoulder, exposing the other side of her throat to his lips. Once its task was complete, his hand drifted down, following her dark red curls to where they rested on her breast. He cupped it in his hand, his thumb brushing against her nipple and she let her body fall slack in his arms.

Blindly she reached for him, her hands holding tight to the thighs on either side of her own.

"Nikola," she breathed as his tongue darted out to caress her pulse point. The hand on her leg slowly started moving, slipping between her thighs and inching higher and higher and higher.

They both started when a loud scratch at the door sounded, Nikola holding her tightly to him in a way she found endearing in its want to be protective but also highly erotic.

Carefully and with a degree of disappointment she extricated herself from his grip, slipping his coat on as she made her way to the door.

Pulling it open, she peaked out only to jump back in alarm as a small kitten dashed into the warmth offered by the shelter. Chuckling, Helen bent over to pick up a small basket on her door step, carrying it inside just in time to watch Nikola pull the tiny cat into his arms, cradling it against his chest.

Setting down the basket she pulled out a note, flicking her eyes over the contents and smiling.

"It seems we've been let off the hook," she said, looking over to Nikola. "No harvesting for you, I'm sorry to say."

"This day gets better and better," he remarked, not looking up from where the snowy kitten was purring against his heart. If she had been a little less inhibited, Helen would have freely admitted she was jealous of that kitten.

Pushing the alarming thought aside, she looked down to the small basket, filled to the brim with fresh vegetables for her next meal. It was a thoughtful gesture and one that she was accustomed to receiving. What she wasn't ready for however, was the note that told her to enjoy her 'company', inverted commas and all. Apparently Nikola's arrival in the dead of night had not gone unnoticed.

Smiling to herself, she looked up, content to watch Nikola as he petted the kitten. He looked delectable in the morning light, his pale skin looked healthier and his entire appearance seemed to lift. Across his lap lay their blankets but, aside from that he was nude, holding a kitten tenderly to his chest. It was somewhat clichéd but Helen loved it.

And then she had an idea.

"If you can tear yourself away from your new companion, what would you say to accompanying me down to the river?"

He smiled over at her.

"Can we bring a picnic?" he asked, eyes gleaming with devilish promise.

She smirked, aware of which particular river side moment he was thinking of.

"No picnic I'm afraid but it is a lovely view."

It was the work of only a few minutes for them to eat and dress. Nikola raised an eyebrow at the pants and button down shirt she pulled on but didn't speak until they were ready to go. It was still uncommon for the other version of herself to wear pants but she owned only three dresses and had not the desire to force herself into their more restrictive bindings.

Instead she opted for her warmer pants and thick boots. Nikola helped her shrug into a jacket, winding his own scarf about her neck.

They left that cat sleeping on the pillow they had shared, curled up and purring to step out into the brisk morning air. The sun was well above the horizon now, the clear sky telling of a cold day that was to come. The last of the autumn leaves were falling from the trees, creating an orange path for them between the rough roads bordered with trees and fence posts.

They walked silently, her arm threaded through his. On the rare occasion they passed someone, Helen had to fight the urge to blush at all the knowing looks they received. A brief hello was often exchanged before the sly smiles appeared. Nikola it seemed, was happy to bask in their looks despite her frequent elbow in his ribs.

Only when they finally reached the riverbank did she pull away from him though. It truly was a beautiful spot, the clear water gurgled over smooth pebbles while a small meadow of yellowing grass stretched out on either side of the water. Leaves dotted the ground, creating a noisy carpet beneath their boots. The sun gave everything a clear, crisp look like a high resolution photograph from a camera that wasn't even close to being invented yet.

"It is rather pretty," Nikola conceded softly, walking past her to stand right against the edge of the water.

"It's lovely in the summer. Wildflowers cover the entire field out there."

"Perhaps I ought to come back next summer then."

"I think I'd like that."

With a smile he turned back to her, reaching out his hand. Quickly she took it, leaning in to his side. It took a few minutes for either of them to speak again and even then Helen could have guessed at what he was thinking without the verbal communication.

"As beautiful as this is," he started. "I have to wonder if your purpose in bring me down here was simply to marvel at deciduous trees."

She chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Of course not."

"Then why, Helen?"

"The phrase I'm after is 'booty call', I believe."

"What?"

He turned, looking down on her with confusion in his eyes and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"What in the name of all that is holy is a booty call?"

"It doesn't matter," she said with a soft laugh. "Come, let's go home."

"Helen, what does it mean?"

She simply tugged on his arm, smiling freely at his utter confusion.

"Helen?"

"I'll explain it to you one day," she promised as they left the clearing. She had an inexplicable urge to get him home this very instant. "I promise."

"Why not now?"

"Because one day you will understand the phrase on your own."

He sighed heavily but allowed her to lead him back the way they had come.

The trip back to her small hut was just as silent as the trip out had been only this time Helen knew she was clinging to his arm. With each step she grew more and more unsettled, fear and doubt swirling low in her gut. Nikola's arm around her shoulder never faltered, holding her tightly as they almost hurried back.

He seemed to pick up on her nerves, his pace holding steady as if to keep her from turning back. She had intended to talk to him, to make it clear that her intentions were nothing more than the norm but seeing him there and hearing him promise to return she had thrown all that to the wind. Neutral ground had been her goal, a place where it was too cold for them to get naked before they finished taking but now... Now she needed him.

They made it to her door in record time, cheeks pink with cold and exertion. She fumbled with the old lock, a vine hindering the efforts of her trembling fingers until Nikola reached forwards and took the key. She studied the vines that grew on the hut as he unlocked the door, unable to watch him without succumbing to the urge to tear his clothing away.

Soon enough they were inside, the door clicking shut just as she launched herself at him.

He must have seen it coming for her grabbed her, turning to press her to the door he'd just closed as their mouths met. Her kiss was met with hunger as their bodies desperately thrust against one another. His hands were on her waist, holding her as still has he could manage while she attacked the buttons of his coat. One was lost in the struggle, popping free so that she could snake her hands inside, fingers twisting in the woollen jumper he wore. It was wine and well made but worn, her fingers coming across a few patches that had been meticulously darned. Immediately she put away the idea of tearing the jumper off of him, instead heading south for his belt.

When her fingertips brushed against the front of his pants, he jerked back, lips breaking free as he blinked at her.

"No," he whispered, trying to put distance between them. "No, no Helen. We have to... I have questions..."

"After," she growled, stepping towards him.

"NO!" he roared, holding her back. She blinked at him once and he faltered, stepping back with that utterly confused look on his face again. "No." Softer this time. "No, we need to talk."

"Why?" she cried, arms flinging open. "Why, Nikola? Why the bloody hell do we need to talk?"

"Because you're not you," he blurted out in earnest.

At that she started.

"You aren't you, Helen. You're different, you're... you're a stranger to me and I have to know why!"

"I am me," she tried, stepping up to him. "I really am, Nikola."

She reached up and cupped his cheek.

"No," he half panted. "No."

"Yes," she whispered back, tears forming in her eyes. "Yes, it's me. I'm here. I'm yours, Nikola, your Helen."

"Helen is not mine," he breathed, taking her wrists and holding her back. His eyes snapped open. "Helen is not mine, you are mine."

"Yours," she said softly, smiling sadly at him. "I'm yours, Nikola."

And with that he released her, arms encircling her waist as a ragged sob left his chest. His grip was almost bruising but she didn't mind, clutching to his shoulders just as fiercely. He was working through it, working through the confusion she couldn't erase and while she knew she could distract him with kisses, she didn't have the heart.

She was so lonely, so tired of being alone and here he was. It couldn't ever be more, she knew that but she could take from him what she needed. It wasn't right and it certainly wasn't good for her timeline but she needed him. She needed to feel another human being pressed against her, she needed another heartbeat pounding alongside her own. She needed to feel like Helen again, she needed someone to see her.

"Why am I here, Helen?" he whispered into her shoulder, grip loosening as he pulled away.

"Because I have need of you," she answered before he could get too far away.

In that moment he knew, he understood perfectly where he stood and why he was here. It made sense to him finally, she could feel it in his embrace.

His body seemed to sag at her words and somehow their lips met. The frantic passion of only moments ago dissipated into something more fragile.

Lips still connected, he walked them back until her knees hit the bed and she was forced to sit. A soft meow drew their attention but they both smiled at the kitten still curled on the pillow.

She watched as Nikola carefully leaned over to pick up its small body and she smiled. When he straightened up he'd undress slowly, allowing her eyes to linger before pulling her to her feet and kissing her soundly. Together they'd struggle with her clothes and the remained of his until he could lower her to the bed. He'd hover over her, kissing random spots so lightly that she'd be a shivering mess by the time he made a lap of her body and returned to her lips. By then she would be starved for him, hungrily drawing him down until their bodies were aligned and, with a single movement, they would be joined.

She would surrender to his touch, to his body until she remembered to open her eyes and look up at the man who was worshiping her in his own way. His eyes would trace her face, drinking in each change as he adjusted his pace to suit. The blue eyes would darken to grey and she'd smile up at him, caressing his cheek softly before telling him that he would have to go afterwards. He'd nod and smile but she would see the sadness. It wouldn't stop them though, they'd continue to drag each other to the brink of release time and time again until they couldn't stand it any longer.

And when Helen awoke, it would be late afternoon and by her side would be a note and a flower. The note would bear the same words it always did-

Thank you. I missed you.

With love.

-and her life would continue. She would get out of bed, bathe and cook a meal. She would do all those normal things that made up her life but with a heart just that little bit stronger than before.

It was how it went. There was a routine to these moments she adored, it reminded her that she was not beyond the trials of a mere mortal. They were like the seasons in some ways, predictable and firm but with small nuances that changed every time they met for this purpose.

Smiling she reached for Nikola, kissing him with all the adoration she held in her heart. He gave her this, he always did and for that she was thankful.

But when she awoke, Helen was not alone. Beside her was a little white kitten and standing in her kitchen was a very naked vampire, fiddling with a kettle.

In that moment, she decided that sometimes, routine was overrated.

He could always leave tomorrow.