DISCLAIMER: Warehouse 13 and its characters are the property of the SyFy Channel. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for femslash_today's Green Beer & Kisses: The [Totally Not] Annual Porn Battle. Prompt: Invisible. Thanks to the amazing Debbie for the quick beta.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
FEEDBACK: To darandkerry[at]yahoo.com

Perks of the Job
By Ann


It was well after midnight at Leena's and the windows had all been opened to take advantage of a cool breeze that had seemingly come out of nowhere. Had her boarders not been physically and mentally exhausted from a week of doing nothing but inventory, it was highly probable that at least one of them would have heard soft moaning coming from the vicinity of Myka's window.

"Oh, Helena," Myka whispered into the quiet of her bedroom. Her bedcovers were roughly cast aside making a rustling noise, the strategic change in their position exposing Myka's heated skin to the cool air, eliciting another low, satisfying moan from her lips.

She looked just like an exquisite painting created by one of the Masters; her hair fanned out across a silk pillowcase, as if each hair had been carefully positioned for maximum effect, her brow damp from perspiration, her lips moist and slightly swollen, and her mouth opened wide to draw in a much needed breath of air.

Spreading her arms outward, Myka grasped for purchase on the edges of the bed and splayed her legs further apart, her heels burrowing deeper into the mattress as she fought to control her body's responses. "Please, Helena," she pleaded breathlessly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her nipples stood at full attention, and her hips undulated up and down in a steady rhythm. Her moans increased in number and rose slightly in volume as she turned her focus to the empty space between her knees and thighs.

If one of her colleagues were to walk in, he or she would wonder, after the shock of witnessing such a personal - and amazingly beautiful - act had worn off, which artifact had taken control of Myka's body. It would be obvious to even an amateur that there was something amiss. There was no way the woman lying on the bed – completely alone – was in the driver's seat. Not unless she had some kind of amazing internal control mechanism that could simultaneously manipulate her clitoris and cause her vagina to open and then contract at will.

Myka suddenly threw her head back and closed her eyes tightly; her hips raced up and down like a piston in a cylinder. She gripped the sheet so hard her knuckles turned white. "Oh, oh, oh…" she repeated over and over, her mantra drowning out everything else. She opened her mouth to scream, but a firm pressure against her lips caused her to let out a muffled groan instead. She shivered once, twice, and then went completely limp as a light, lilting chuckle filled the silence.

Moments later, Myka looked up into a pair of dark, teasing eyes. She reached out and lovingly stroked her lover's cheek with the back of her hand. "I love you," she said, lifting up slightly to kiss Helena. She smiled at the taste on her lover's lips and reached over to finger the garment Helena had discarded.

"Okay, now it's your turn," Myka teased as she rolled Helena onto her back and once again pressed her lips against her lover's. She hadn't been too keen on Helena's idea of using Death's Invisibility Cloak but, now, having personally experienced 'La petite mort'- compliments of Death himself - she couldn't wait to try it out on Helena.

Inventory wasn't so bad, after all.

The End

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