Work Text:
It begins as such.
Step one -
Myka makes a discovery.
Or rather Myka realizes something as she attempts to resist the urge to shoot the villainess of this little game in the head all the while choking the life out of her. One, she likes it, two, HG also seems to like it and three, Claudia really should not be witnessing this. Because she is young and innocent and this is far too sexual even for Myka's fairly divergent tastes.
So Myka files this information away and goes about her business. They find the artifact, she is swept off her feet and into the air by HG Wells, and there's some bonding over amino acids. A pretty good day, if Myka does say so herself.
Step two -
Myka ascertains some facts.
The first thing she realizes is that yes, HG is pretty indiscriminate in her taste in lovers. Myka figures this out in Russia, when she (totally didn't) let HG sneak into her hotel room after they rescue Artie and HG nearly freezes to death. HG is warm now and she's got Myka pressed up against the door, her hands in Myka's hair and her tongue is in Myka's mouth.
Myka decides that this warrants further looking into and then her mind is delightfully blank and full of thoughts of skin on skin and how sex with a woman is so different than sex with a man.
So she goes back to South Dakota, writes her report and gets HG reinstated as an agent (much to Artie's chagrin).
HG flirts like it's her job (with Myka, with Claudia, with Rebecca, with suspects and victims, with Pete), it drives Myka nuts. So she decides to do something about it, sitting HG down in the room that they're totally not supposed to be sharing and explaining how this is going to work.
"I like you," she begins, knowing that it sounds rather... lacking. She isn't ready to say the other word; the word that she knows is lying just beyond her comprehension. Myka is afraid to say the other word; for fear that HG will turn out just like Sam, dead on her watch. She can't go through that again; she can't let herself love again.
HG inclines her head and nods her agreement. "I like you too, darling," she agrees. She has a way with words, Myka fell in love with that way long before she ever met HG Wells, a way that makes Myka know that she's saying something other than stating mutual attraction. That she loves Myka even if Myka isn't ready to allow that to happen.
So Myka picks at the duvet and stares at her feet and tries to figure out how to tell HG that she hates it when she flirts, that HG should be hers and hers alone.
"I don't like it when you flirt," she says eventually, never looking at HG. Her mind wanders and her hands clench into fists. "I don't share well."
HG laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her neck. Myka wants to kiss it. "I never expected you to like it, Myka. I expected you to act upon your dislike."
What the hell does that mean?
Myka knows what it means, she hates that HG has figured her out so easily. She doesn't broadcast stuff like that, or even let it show outwardly. She won't admit to herself how much she loved the look of complete trust in HG's eyes when Myka's hand was around her throat, tesla six inches from her nose.
"I didn't realize I was so transparent," Myka turns then and grins at HG, who grins right back.
They don't talk for a while after that.
Step three -
Myka does some research and gets some stuff squared away.
"Doctor are you sure that all these injections are completely necessary?" HG is mad. Myka doesn't blame her as she's had about fifteen shots in the past twenty minutes and Doctor Calder isn't showing signs of slowing down.
Myka wanted to make sure that HG didn't come down with polio or smallpox and HG wanted nothing to do with 'freakish modern medicine.' There had been an argument, Myka had threatened to withhold things until HG got her shots like a grownup. HG had pouted. Myka had won.
"Yes," The doctor explains, pulling out yet another bottle and filling her needle. "You have been exposed to god knows how many viruses that are completely eradicated in this day and age."
"Well goody for this day and age then," HG mutters, holding out her arm with a 'just get it over with' sort of a look on her face. Myka covers her grin with her hand and steals HG's chart when the doctor is busy poking HG with needles.
Her blood pressure looks fine, and a sly grin grows over Myka's face that she makes sure that HG sees as she sets the file down.
"Doctor, would you give Helena a clean bill of health?" HG's eyebrows go up at this and she gives Myka almost a worried look. Myka smiles though, and raises an eyebrow. HG's smart enough to follow her line of thinking.
"Yes, yes, of course."
This should be quite interesting.
Step four -
Myka acts.
They don't talk beforehand. Myka knows that this is bad, that communication is tantamount to all things, but she can't bring herself to say what she wants. It would ruin it, she rationalizes, but she knows that she's just embarrassed. She needs to talk about it because it isn't safe not to, but Helena is in her bed and looking up at her and Myka can't find the words to say anything other than, "Lie still," and the dance begins.
It's so easy to kiss Helena; Myka loves how naturally it comes to her. There's a perfect mesh in between them, and Helena's hands tangle in Myka's hair and they're lost in their own little world.
Sometimes Myka wishes that Helena would go back to wearing skirts like it’s 1890, because skin tight pants are so difficult to get off when you're trying to fuck and Jesus could this take any longer? Helena stops her then, and quickly divests them both of clothing with all the skill of one who has been in this day and age for longer than three months. They're naked then and Myka can place wet open-mouthed kisses on Helena's neck - on her breasts and further down, eyes half-glazed over with desire.
Helena isn't fighting her for control, or trying to have it her way.
Myka was right, it seems.
"I..." she begins, resting her forehead against Helena's shoulder, cheeks flushed and it's not because of how aroused Helena's fingers on her breasts are making her. She doesn't know how to say this. "I know that you liked it," she grinds out, biting at Helena's collarbone.
"Liked what, darling?" Helena asks, hands pausing, resting flat against Myka's back. Myka wishes she wasn’t such a literal person.
She can't say it, she doesn't know how. She looks up and meets Helena's gaze evenly, pulling her hand loose from where it had rested on Helena's hip and pressing it hesitantly (firmly) against Helena's mouth and nose.
The surprise in Helena's face is evident, but Myka can feel Helena's lips under her palm pull upwards and her head jerks up and down once. This is okay, they can do this.
Myka feels a surge of arousal as she pulls her hand away and kisses Helena hard, tongue and teeth trying to show everything that she cannot express in words. Her thanks, her gratitude, her jubilation at the thought of being allowed to do this by a lover. For Helena to trust her that much.
"I will stop," Myka swears, her voice shaking slightly. "You know what to do," They've established this now, words and gestures and communication that Myka's never had before in a lover. Helena likes the game, Myka likes to win it, they both play it like professionals.
Helena nods and tilts her head back, her neck exposed and her desire clearly written across her face.
Myka's hand drifts downwards, touching skin she's left alone up to this point, coming up damp with desire. She smiles, this will be fun.
"I won't stop you," Helena whispers and Myka pushes her fingers into that warmth and wet space she's only just dipped into. Helena gasps, her body writhing under Myka as Myka shifts herself, her lips pressing wet open mouthed kisses on Helena's neck. She's leaving marks, she doesn't care. This is about them and the moment, not about the repercussions.
The palm of her hand grinds against Helena's center and Myka smiles, leaning up to watch the changing expressions on Helena's face. She's worrying her lip, which is so impossibly sexy that Myka has to lean down and place the gentlest of kisses there, her hand never slowing in its motion.
Helena kisses her back desperately, hungrily, and Myka knows she's smiling into the kiss - knows what's coming and is excited for it.
The free hand that she's been using to brace herself come up then, resting against the pale column of Helena's throat. She knows better than to do it like this, and as she shifts her weight forward, Myka knows that this is not what Helena wants either. It's the most exciting, the most arousing - all research that Myka has done has pointed to this fact - but it is the most dangerous and Myka does not feel that comfortable with Helena's very life in her hands. She puts on just enough pressure to give Helena pause, to see her eyes widen and her breath catch, before leaning down and kissing her once, briefly on the cheek.
Myka's pace never slows, and she lets Helena's nails rake across her back as she presses her hand against Helena's mouth - feeling her lover kiss her fingertips as Myka struggles to get the angle right - to actually succeed in getting what she wants.
And then she has it, Helena's pupils dilate further and her hips buck upwards against Myka's insistent fingers. She's so tight and oh so wet and Myka's having trouble maintaining her pace.
She counts to ten, and pulls her hand away slightly, her forehead resting on the pillow by Helena's ear. "I can keep going," she breathes, her voice full of something she can't describe. She's drunk on this power, on this control, on this complete and utter surrender.
Helena's voice sounds like she's had a cold for weeks, as she rasps, "Do it." And takes a deep breath.
So Myka does. It comes easily, effortlessly. Her hand presses against Helena's mouth and nose and she grinds her palm with every thrust up and into Helena with her hand. She lasts longer this time, her body convulsing as she comes, Myka's hand smothering her, driving the pleasure higher. Myka pulls it away as soon as she feels it happen, watching as Helena's head rolls back on the pillow and she lets out a low hiss of pleasure that sounds almost like a prayer.
Helena's nails have left bright red marks across her back; Myka can see them in the mirror over her shoulder as she sits back and slowly pulls her fingers from her lover - watching as Helena shivers, her body pulsing one last time before settling, sated.
She cleans her fingers carefully, tasting her lover, her control and Helena's surrender on her fingers, savoring the taste as Helena comes back to herself and props herself up on her elbows, smiling at Myka.
"What?" Myka asks with a smile.
"You are quite stunning when you take control," Helena comments, eyes half-open and her lips parted.
Myka bends to kiss her. Lingering as long as she can, enjoying the feel of Helena’s breath on her cheek as their tongues dance. "You are beautiful in your surrender."
She can't say thank you, for Helena trusting her enough to do this, and she can't tell Helena how much it means to her to have such a wonderful gift. She needs the control so much, and yet she'd never take without permission.
It doesn't matter; there are words that are unspoken between them. And that's alright. Myka likes that, it'll give them things to talk about in the future.