DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are used without permission. No infringement intended.
SPOILERS: Assumes events of season 2, but pretty much AU.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To winter156[at]gmail.com
Clark's Three Laws
1. When a distinguished elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.
Helena gazed in wonder at the aircrafts arriving and departing through the large windows of the terminal. She had, of course, flown in the metal crafts since emerging from her bronzed state. At the time, however, her priorities were to save Arthur and, hopefully, be reinstated to the Warehouse. She had been too busy to worry about the physics of what flying in a metal canister really meant.
Now, however, fully reinstated as a Warehouse agent and flying home from a routine mission, she had copious amounts of time to consider the marvel before her. "So the Wright brothers were onto something after all," she mused as she saw a 747 lift off and take to the skies.
"Yeah, the Wrights were right," Myka furrowed her brows at how odd that sounded, "about practical flight. They proved, and disproved, many theories of aerodynamics. They propelled us into modern aerodynamics. The physics of which allow metal machines, weighed down with passengers and cargo, to attain flight," she pointed to the general direction of the runway. "At its very basic, all you really need to fly is enough force to create lift that's greater than drag." She looked over at Helena who had crinkled her brow as she continued to stare at the planes. "And here's the tea I promised before I bore you to death," she gave Helena a self-deprecating smile as she handed her the drink. Myka sighed softly feeling like a nerdy teenager with a crush. Except she was not a teenager; and, while she did not know what she was feeling for Helena, she knew for sure that it was more than a simple crush. Sometimes she felt like Pete, she just could not control her reactions around the beautiful woman.
Helena finally turned toward her, a look of gratitude on her face, "Thank you darling." She took a sip from the steaming beverage sighing in pleasure as the hot liquid warmed her. She studied Myka's profile as affection spread a different kind of warmth through her. "And you are not boring," she stated firmly, "I find intelligence very becoming a woman; and quite attractive." She smiled at the light blush the compliment elicited from Myka. In an effort to prevent Myka anymore unease, she turned once again to look at the airplanes. "I was just thinking how wrong Lord Kelvin was about 'heavier-than-air' flying machines never being a possibility. Not the only thing he was wrong about, either."
"You knew Sir William Thomson?" Myka asked as she took a sip from her steaming cup of coffee. She kept stealing glances at the woman beside her. She did not know exactly what she was doing, but she definitely knew that Helena intrigued her.
Helena shook her head. "I knew of him and his theories, but I did not know him. Not personally. I did sneak into a few of his seminars. They were actually quite fascinating. He had the right idea concerning the point where energy can no longer be transferred. I thought he was wrong about a few points in his explanation of the theory. Of course, I could never question his views or postulations on anything. Even though, I am certain I could very well prove him wrong in some instances. I am afraid the old boys club was unanimously against female enrollment." Helena tried to keep the resentment out of her voice. Those days were long past, and it would do no good to dwell on them.
"Well, now you can make an all girl club and keep all those old boys out," Myka tried to joke. Her efforts fell flat. Helena simply shrugged and took another sip of her tea. Myka carefully took Helena's free hand not sure how she would feel about the gesture. She instantly felt a jolt of electricity run up her arm originating from the point where her hand held Helena's. She held her breath waiting for a reaction. When Helena simply lifted her head to look at her, Myka took that as a positive sign and squeezed gently trying to reassure the woman of her place in modern day society. "You were far ahead of your time Helena."
"At times, I feel woefully behind this time," Helena whispered candidly as she looked down at their entwined hands. She felt the heat where Myka's hand held hers. It felt like her skin was on fire, in an entirely too pleasant way. She turned her gaze back to Myka's wondering exactly what was happening between them. It seemed like a turning point. Though, she was unsure of where the bend would lead them.
"I have no doubt you will catch up with the past century, Helena," Myka said sincerely. "I mean you're H.G. Wells," Myka stressed looking deeply into Helena's eyes trying to convey so much more than she was saying. "You imagined time machines and space ships before anyone thought it was even possible to fly. You stood against the ancient hierarchy of a male dominated society by the very virtue of who you are. You bedded women in a world where that was more than merely frowned upon. You dreamed the best parts of what this world has achieved. The impossible has become possible, and those old fools were too short sighted to see that nothing is impossible. The details will fall into place eventually, I promise. Just don't ever forget that you belong. You belong here and now," with me was left unspoken as Myka finished her impromptu but vehement speech.
Helena's heart was engulfed in warmth and her stomach erupted with butterflies. She no longer had any doubts as to where this turning point was taking them. She smiled as she gently squeezed the hand still clasped in her own, "There is no place I would rather be, darling."
2. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.
"I cannot believe Artie had us fly home posthaste to simply do inventory," Myka spat out exasperated at the menial, monotonous work. She continued murmuring to herself until she noticed that her fellow agents had abandoned her. "Those little " she quickly turned as a faint sound of footsteps reached her ears. "Pete!" she called as she walked toward where she heard the sound. "Claudia!" she continued moving past the shelves they were all supposed to be going through. "Helena!" she stopped to take in her surroundings. Nothing seemed amiss. "Guys," she yelled as a thrill of fear whispered down her spine. "Where are you? This isn't funny."
A crash startled her into motion. She quickly, but cautiously, made her way to where the sound originated. She suddenly wondered why in the world she did not have her Tesla on her. She shook her head remembering Claudia was upgrading the weapons. Spotting a crate out of place on the next aisle, Myka made her way to see what had disturbed it.
"Bloody Hell," came an eerily familiar voice from behind the crate. Myka felt a rush of relief, before concern for the other woman pushed her to see what was wrong. She moved around the crate and hurried to Helena's prone form. Kneeling, Myka ran her eyes over Helena trying to see if there was an injury. She reached down to clasp Helena's hand, "Helena are you alright? What happened?"
Helena attempted to rise, grimacing at the pain shooting through her skull. "I felt bad sneaking off with Pete and Claudia while you were distracted complaining," attempting to alleviate some of the throbbing, Helena closed her eyes. "So, I made my way back but got side tracked when I noticed some of my things in this aisle. Curiosity getting the better of me, I thought to take a peak. But, from there to here, I slipped on some of that infernal purple gunk. I also seem to have hit my head on the way down. Definitely not one of my most graceful moments," she grumbled. Trying not to panic at the other woman's obvious distress, Myka wrapped an arm around Helena's waist and helped the injured woman up and moved her gently over to sit on the displaced crate.
Myka inadvertently invaded her personal space trying to ascertain the severity of Helena's head injury. She gently touched the back of Helena's head, fingers discovering a large knot forming behind the woman's right ear. "You may have a concussion," Myka assessed, worrying her bottom lip as she continued her inspection. "Do you feel any different?" She looked expectantly at Helena.
"Other than a splitting headache, I feel no different." She halted Myka's insistent prodding, taking the younger woman's hands in her own and simply holding them. Helena looked into Myka's worried gaze and squeezed the hands she held in an attempt to alleviate some of the worry. "I am fine, Myka. No maniacal, homicidal tendencies about becoming death, the destroyer of worlds, and ending this world's ephemeral existence in a suffocating, cold grip of ice."
Myka arched a brow and looked at Helena curiously not sure what to make of the statement, or the feeling of dread that suddenly settled at the pit of her stomach. Helena broke eye contact chuckling dryly, "Humor was never one of my strong suits. I was joking Myka. I meant nothing by it," she assured, unconsciously raising Myka's hands to her lips and kissing them before she processed the command to do so.
At the feel of Helena's lips on her skin, Myka's dread exploded into a swarm of butterflies and her heart forgot how to beat (but made up for it a second later as it sped to double time). She felt faint. "Breathe, darling," Helena commanded softly. Sucking in a breath, Myka averted her gaze in an attempt to compose herself. Silence descended on the women.
Clearing her throat, Myka ventured to break the silence, "So what distracted you so much that you took such a nasty dive?" Not wanting to release Myka's hands, Helena instead nodded in the direction of her time machine. "I thought Arthur had discarded it after our last little incident. I did not know he intended to keep it somewhere else in the Warehouse."
Myka looked over to the machine that should not even exist. "Well, I suppose it would be quite difficult to explain a time machine if someone were to inadvertently find it. Maybe Artie thought it best to keep it here, even though it is broken." She returned her gaze to Helena's, unease prickling at the back of her neck. "What were you considering that had you so distracted?" She reiterated, her unease mounting.
"You know, I could easily repair the machine. I was not wrong when I built it," she said more to herself than Myka, "I just miscalculated the amount of energy required to bodily transport a person through time."
Myka blanched at the mere suggestion of what Helena was insinuating. "That's because you would need the power of a star, or a black hole, to physically transfer someone through time. And that's only in one direction, no return trip guaranteed," she retorted angrily, fear gnawing at her.
Misinterpreting Myka's response in her excitement, Helena barreled forward, "Nothing has guarantees, but a promising solution to the energy input problem is cold fusion. If we could create a method to manipulate and harness nuclear fusion, I believe that would generate enough energy to transfer more than one's consciousness through time. Think of it, Myka, it would be groundbreaking."
"You cannot change the past, Helena," Myka practically spat the words out, gripping the inventor's hands trying to get her to see her point (though she was unsure of her own point, she was speaking out of fear). "You tried to do that very thing over and over, until it drove you to the point of madness."
Shocked, and a little hurt, Helena dropped the hands she was holding. "I cannot believe the past is unchangeable," Helena replied hotly, the shock having worn off somewhat. "That would mean the future is set in stone, as well. Because, at some point from now this little scene, this moment, has already transpired. We perpetually exist in the past. We only experience the present because that is where our consciousness resides. I refuse to believe the future is unchangeable, so I cannot think that of the past either." She glared at Myka, not certain as to their disagreement but unable to back down.
"You're logic is fundamentally flawed. Maybe from God's vantage point it's all changeable, but not from ours," Myka snapped. Not understanding the fear gripping her heart at the mere thought of Helena not being part of her future, she stepped away from the other woman to give herself some space to think. She started pacing in an effort to release some of the tension constricting her chest.
"Do not presume to lecture me about God. That position has been vacant for quite some time," Helena said derisively though she immediately missed Myka's proximity, "I temporarily filled it. And, garnered no worse results than the previous occupant of the position." The fight slowly wilting out of her as the pain in her head exponentially increased. Helena reached to cradle her head, the throbbing increasing the longer the silly argument continued. "What, exactly, are we fighting about, darling?" Helena expelled softly. She suddenly felt exhausted and unsure of how things had escalated to this point. Her heart telling her to fix whatever the problem was so Myka would come close again.
Myka halted. She turned to Helena and immediately softened seeing the woman's state of distress. She tentatively made her way back to Helena, hesitating a moment before enveloping the injured woman in her arms. Helena stiffened at the unexpected touch before slowly wrapping her own arms around Myka and rested her head on the younger woman's shoulder. "I'm not exactly sure. I think I was being an ass. I'm sorry," she apologized, releasing a long sigh before lightly squeezing the woman in her arms. "Why must you rage against the impossible?" Myka desperately whispered into Helena's hair, her heart constricting.
"How does one achieve the impossible if one never tries to conquer it?" Helena retorted after a moment's pause, at a loss of how to answer Myka directly on the matter. "Everything was impossible until someone tried to prove it otherwise. Nothing is impossible, Myka."
"Do you always take such great risks Helena?" Myka asked leaning back to be able to see the inventor's face.
Taking Myka's face between her hands, Helena studied her for a moment. "Only when the rewards of the outcome far outweigh the consequences of my actions," she breathed as her lips captured Myka's.
3. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.
"Claudia, dear, did you just tell me that this little piece of technology I'm holding is magic?" Helena asked amusement evident in her voice.
"No, H.G." Claudia said rolling her eyes. "You must've conked your head harder than I thought. What I said was, that little piece of technology," she used air quotes before pointing to the laptop sitting in front of Helena, "is a machine that allows you," Claudia pointed to Helena, "by hundreds of millions of math and logarithm instructions," she held a finger up halting Helena's questions as she continued, "not only to write with light but create images, store sound and produce intelligent interactive responses using millimetric metal conducts and plain old electricity." Claudia smiled feeling that she had explained that fairly well.
Helena stared at the young woman with both eyebrows raised wondering if she was serious. When no other explanation was forthcoming she turned to face the laptop again. "Ah yes, that certainly does clarify things." Turning back to Claudia, she cleared her throat as she let a small smile grace her features. "Writing with light, drawing with electricity. Does not sound the least bit like magic."
"Just wait until I introduce you to the World Wide Web," she made an all-encompassing motion with her hands as her eyes gleamed with excitement, "that really is a little bit like magic." Claudia walked over to pick up the laptop patting Helena's shoulder as she exited the older woman's room. "Don't worry H.G., you're a smart woman. You'll get a hang of all this soon," Claudia threw over her shoulder as walked out the door.
Helena sighed as she turned back to her desk. "I am almost afraid to find out what she thinks is magic," she muttered under her breath as she picked up her fountain pen.
"I hope she wasn't too much, too soon," Myka said as she turned to close and lock the door she had just walked through. "She tends to get excited about technology and can sometimes be a little bit overwhelming."
Helena turned and smiled at Myka's very welcome intrusion, warmth instantly blossoming in her chest. Her smile widened and her heart sped up as Myka stalked her way to where she stood, the warmth turning to heat and traveling decidedly south. "She was what one would expect from a genius, darling." She licked her lips as Myka invaded her personal space.
Myka put one hand on either side of the desk as she pinned Helena between herself and the desk. Helena's breathing hitched slightly. "What does one expect a genius to be?" Myka asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Helena's ear. "Haughty," with a smile she leaned down and kissed Helena, "overconfident," she breathed as she closed the small gap between them a second time, "arrogant," Myka whispered as Helena drew her in for a third time.
"Enlightening," Helena countered breathlessly as she rested her forehead against Myka's. "In fact, she informed me of why my ink and parchment are antiquated, archaic, and wholly unnecessary in this day and age."
Myka wrapped her arms around Helena pulling the inventor upright as she straightened from the desk. Keeping Helena pressed against her, Myka kissed her way from Helena's mouth, across her jaw line, to her sensitive neck as she moved them slowly toward the bed. "I happen to like certain things circa the late 1800s," Myka husked between kisses.
"I must admit," Helena shakily breathed out as Myka hit a particularly sensitive spot, "I am certainly beginning to love the marvels present in this time." She could feel Myka's smile as she hummed her agreement sending little shocks of pleasure through Helena's system. Needing to feel Myka's lips on hers, Helena raked her hands up Myka's back to tangle in the curly mane and gently tugged bringing their lips crashing together in a passionate kiss.
Hands worked in tandem to divest each other of clothes until they stood bare one if front of the other panting with need, and ready. Helena closed the few inches between them but stopped short of full body contact. Myka's breathing hitched to near hyperventilating, her pupils dilated to obsidian pools, and the flush covering her face and neck spread downward. Needing to touch her lover, Helena traced her fingertips up Myka's arm, across her collarbone to the hollow of her throat, and down to the valley between her breasts. She rested her palm over Myka's heart feeling the erratic tempo before she gently pushed Myka. The move caused Myka to lose her equilibrium and land sprawled on the bed.
Quickly approaching the edge of the bed, Helena's vision tunneled until all she saw was Myka (her beautiful, lovely Myka). Gazing down at Myka, Helena realized there was, indeed, still magic in the world. Real magic that defied explanation. Magic made of sensation not strictly limited to the physical realm. Magic made not of physics or logic. Magic that wholly transcended the realm of science. Magic more fantastical than time travel, perpetual motion, or precognition.
This magic brought two souls together across time, space and circumstance. This magic shed light in her darkness. This magic mended her broken soul. Helena knew of no greater magic than this. And, while she could not explain it (and often could not even comprehend it), she could express it. "I love you, Myka," she whispered reverently as her eyes consumed in the glorious sight before her, "so very much."
"Show me, Helena," Myka rasped. Her eyes shone with everything she felt for the dark haired woman who held her heart. Crawling up Myka's prone body, Helena smiled wickedly, "With pleasure, my love." And she proceeded to conjure the oldest, most enduring magic known to man: love.
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