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don't be scared (and have no fear)

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To her credit, Helen has no idea how this happened.

She understands that overindulging in alcohol can often lead to strange decisions in lovers. There are five empty bottles of wine scattered about the room. So having unanticipated sex with a man and another woman…that bit, she can justify.

To her right lies Nikola. Mostly still asleep, but beginning to stir and most definitely completely naked. She’s never considered him as a lover before, except that first night after the source blood and they were all a little high and she ached pleasantly for days; now he’s mostly a necessary annoyance and she longs for him to vacate London and leave her in peace. She’s been tipsy, drunk even, in his presence before and never ended up here. But she could probably stretch her logic and make that work.

To her left lies something she can’t possibly explain. She turns, trying not to move the bed too much, and her gaze lands on herself. Brunette, with strong muscles in places Helen never expected, also completely naked, and wide awake. Oddly, having sex with herself (real sex, not simply finding release while suffering a dry spell between lovers), isn’t bothering her. There’s time travel involved with this part of things and even presented with a very real future version of herself, Helen has difficulty believing that time travel is possible.

“Good morning,” the brunette whispers, lifting a hand to brush a golden curl off of Helen’s cheek.

Helen turns into the touch, warm and familiar. The other’s hands speak of strength and experience, calluses and scars giving a history she was so unwilling to vocalize when asked. She’d known exactly what to do to make Helen squirm, moan, arch her back, come and come again. Helen tries not to think too much about that, about the years of learning her own body; it tarnishes the evening before.

“Are you alright?” Still a whisper, concerned this time.

Helen nods once and touches her forehead to hers. The sun is just beginning to press on the horizon; hours still lie before them until they’re expected to rise. She tilts her head and kisses her, knowing this won’t last beyond breakfast. Their lips part, blue eyes meet blue eyes and, simultaneously, shift toward Nikola. He’s barely awake, gradually becoming aware of what’s going on next to him. They smile – he’ll join when he’s ready – and return to kissing.

Helen soon finds herself on her back, gasping as familiar fingers not her own brush over her nipples. The kiss deepens and her legs spread of their own accord. She’d learned last night that while their bodies are the same, they’re quite different. They’re both soft and curvy, but there’s sharpness and strength to the other’s that Helen almost dreads; she isn’t aware of the need behind it, but she knows that body isn’t made from a lifetime of easy experience.

Her thoughts disappear when the bed moves next to her, Nikola finally awake and coherent. His fingers slip between them and the other woman sighs into Helen’s mouth before breaking away to sweep a tongue across her nipple. Helen looks down and sees Nikola crawling between her legs; anticipating his move, she spreads her legs wider, a quiet moan escaping her mouth as his tongue touches her.

“Shh,” she whispers with an easy smile, momentarily abandoning Helen’s breasts.

Helen bites her lip as Nikola’s tongue becomes more insistent. The bed isn’t perfectly steady and she can feel the rhythm of his fingers inside her lover and the other woman’s stamina astounds her; Helen’s certain she would be thrashing about and moaning by now. The stamina and control, however, she is looking forward to.

It’s eerie, the way she anticipates Helen’s orgasm and captures her lips just in time to swallow a groan as Helen’s hips buck and Nikola tries to hold her steady, allowing her to calm briefly before expertly sending another wave of pleasure crashing over her. Helen whimpers at the loss of contact when he backs away, but the whimper quickly turns into a moan when she feels very feminine fingers teasing at her entrance.

She grins cheekily and glances at Nikola licking his lips before she descends to Helen’s breasts again.

Nikola kisses differently than she does, a little more urgently, as if he expects this to be the last time; and it will be, Helen knows, because he annoys her just a tad more than she enjoys, but he’s been blissfully silent ever since the kissing began last night. Her third orgasm – she hadn’t known until this began that she was capable of more than one, knowledge she’s very glad to have – overtakes her quicker than she expected and she has to push Nikola off of her so she can catch her breath.

Helen rolls away so she can watch as she straddles Nikola and slowly sinks down on him; Helen’s breathing is still recovering, but the warmth between her thighs begins to throb again at the sight.

The room is silent except for panting and a quiet squeak of the bed that wasn’t there a day ago. Helen reaches out between them, brushing a finger across wet sensitive skin and finds herself dragged upward, kissing again as she silences the other woman’s moans. Helen slides one leg across Nikola’s chest and settles against him, fingers rubbing in circles as their thrusts become more insistent.

She comes first with a cry lost to Helen’s lips, shaking as her body grinds against Nikola and Helen’s hand for more contact. Nikola isn’t far behind, straining upward, his own groan muffled by the back of his hand. She drops her head to Helen’s shoulder, thighs quaking, and Helen wraps her arms around her, holding her gently as she calms.

They awkwardly roll off of Nikola and land in a tangle of limbs, quiet giggles escaping them as they bask in the afterglow. Nikola rests his head on Helen’s stomach after finding a cloth to clean them up. The three of them drift off as the sun crests over the horizon in brilliant pinks and yellows.

Helen wakes later to the sounds of someone trying to be quiet and failing. She carefully untangles herself from Nikola and sits up. Suddenly conscious of her nudity, she tugs a sheet up around her breasts.

She’s dressed now and Helen knows this is the last she’ll see of her. Helen desperately wants to ask things, find out about the future and what she should do differently this time, but even a bottle and a half of wine hadn’t extracted that information. Helen settles for watching her leave.

She finds her other shoe and checks the mirror to ensure her hair is somewhat respectable. Glancing back at Helen, she smiles softly and crosses the room. She cups Helen’s cheek and presses a kiss to Helen’s forehead.

“You will be wonderful,” she whispers before disappearing, the only hint to the future.