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Warehouse

By: Higgy



Too late, far too late. You had no way of turning back You had gone too far with the teasing in the warehouse.

As you showered, your mind slipped back to the afternoon. The afternoon when your teasing had been turned on you. The hot water cascaded over your naked body, your breasts ached, your nipples ached. The brutality of the afternoon, the enjoyment of it all. As you stood in the shower, your fingers brushed your sore nipples on their way down to your trimmed pussy. Your finger stroked your clitoris. That too ached as did your pussy and your ass. 

Slipping two fingers into your pussy as you closed your eyes. The water streaming down your body, over your breasts, creating a tingle on your nipples. You sighed, two fingers plunged in deeper as you recalled the events.

The midday delivery was due. It was late. You glanced at the clock, already a quarter after 12. The coffee had long gone cold.

You couldn't understand why, but you felt excited. Maybe it was the touch of his fingers on your thigh as you sat in the office?

You certainly teased him, the flash of thigh as you crossed your legs. You knew it was a dangerous play, but none the less, you still continued to tease and yes, allow your legs to be touched. It certainly sent tingles down your spine.

Your fingers pumped in and out of your pussy as the hot water hit your body. Your nipples taking the force of the jets of water, hitting them, making them tingle. You felt the orgasm building inside you. Unable to hold back, you came with such a force you thought you would scream the house down. Muffling the scream as you came, the force unbounding. ' Oh my fuckkkkk' your moaned as you felt the cum trickle out of your pussy.

During the day, the air had an electrical charge, glances between the two of you told a story, a story that you needed him, he needed you. Slyly you undid a button to the top of the dress, allowing a little more cleavage to be on show. This task done, you went over to his desk, armed with the delivery note earlier. Leaning over the desk, you allowed the dress to part, allowed your breasts to be visible. You smiled as you saw his eyes fall there. Your eyes met. Smile met smile. His hand met your knee. You looked. You smiled. His hand crept higher, you didn't flinch, even when his fingers stroked the inner thigh nor when his fingers reached the edge of your panties. Feeling his fingers creep underneath your panties, you sighed as they came into contact with your already damp pussy. You sighed louder as they stroked your pussy lips and moaned as two slipped inside your now wet pussy.

Enjoying his fingers inside your pussy, you moaned as he thrust in deep. The telephone rang. He swore, you swore. The delivery was here.

Sighing, you went to the warehouse area, he in pursuit. You talked, you both agreed to meet after the delivery, agreed to have his cock into your pussy, in your mouth, in your ass. You just wanted his thick shaft. Stroking it as the van pulled up. He felt big and thick. You wanted it, now. You needed that cock now. You needed to fuck, now.

The 4 guys unloaded the contents of the truck, boxes everywhere, scattered but in order, an order you dictated they should be in. Leaning over one box, you were unaware that your dress parted, unaware that your breasts were visible. The concentration as you checked in the delivery took you mind off of the sexual tension. Then you heard on guy, the southern drawl. 'Man look at those tits' was what you heard. Only then, did you realise. Your nipples tingled, your pussy wet. The thrill of exposing your breasts sent that tingle to your nipples. You pretended to ignore the comment. Bending lower, the top opening more.

You flinched as you felt a hand touched you ass. Words were spoken.

'Guys, she is such a fucking teaser, she needs teaching a lesson'. You skin crawled, tingled. Was it fear? Was it excitement? Either way, your body tingled.

You felt arms grabbing you. You heard laughter, deep throated laughter. Male deep throated laughter. Laughter that scared you but also excited you.

The strong arms held you. Unable to move, struggling, swearing, cussing, kicking. All to no avail, trapped, arms held tight behind your back.

They approached, four of them, all big, shirts opened to the waist, all four hairy chests, strong arms, all that lifting.

Your eyes opened wide, arms held tight. You struggled in vain. They reached you, you kicked out. Strong arms grabbed your legs. Held in the air, at their mercy. Two held you, three commenced unbuttoning your dress. You felt your nipples stiffen as the dress was opened, your white brassiere exposed, the lacy cups not hiding your hard nipples. The dress lay totally open, exposing your tiny underpants, again lace, see through. Your pussy leaked, showing your excitement, showing your fear.

'Get her on the boxes' one voice said. They did, they also ripped your panties off of you, baring your pussy, the brassiere came next, not unclipped, torn off, ripped off. Your breasts, your pussy, your body, naked, exposed. You kicked. Hands grabbed your breasts, twisted your nipples, hurting you, exciting you. Legs pulled apart, wide open. Your pussy lips parted, a finger slammed deep inside, no finesse, just hard, straight to his knuckle. You screamed, in pain. Fingers twisted your nipples, fingers plunged into you pussy. Your screams of pain, turned into screams of ecstasy. 'Oh fuck me' you cried. 'Someone fuck my pussy' You writhed, you moaned. Opening your eyes, the pressure upon your arms and legs gone. You lay there, writhing, wanting, needing.

You looked, 5 zippers came down, 5 cocks came out. 'Ohhhhhhh, yesss' you moaned as you saw those 5 cocks, so hard, so big, so thick. 'Fill my holes you bastards' you cried as you parted your pussy lips for them. The first one came to you as you parted your lips, his cock nudged your pussy, one thrust, deep inside he sank his full length.. You moaned in pleasure. Another moved to the side of your. Your felt your hair being pulled, your head being turned. Forcefully, hard. You saw a monstrous cock. 'Suck it bitch' was the order. You complied, allowed your mouth to open, taking it inside your mouth, you sucked greedily. Growling as you swallowed his cock, taking him deep as the other pounded in and out of your pussy. You tried to speak, the thick cock stifled your words. 'Ohhhhhhhhh' you moaned as the cock pounded inside you. Hands, fingers over your body, nipples being pinched, twisted, tugged. Breasts being slapped. You bucked, met his thrusting. The cock soon exploded, bringing you to your first delightful orgasm. You felt his warm seed hitting into you as you came, long and hard.

The cock in your mouth soon followed, gagging you as he held your head, pumping his cock into your mouth. You cupped his balls, squeezing every drop out of him as you swallowed all of his cum, spilling down the sides of your lips, over your chin.

The cock left your pussy, another one took it's place. You moaned, your growled as you swallowed his cum. 'Yes, fuck me harder' The cock in your mouth went limp, you licked it, sucked it clean, not wanting to let it go. He slapped your hand, it stung. Another hand grabbed yours, brought it to his cock. You stroked it as the cock in your pussy slammed so hard into you. The rape, the delightful gang bang, another orgasm. 'Ohhhh, yes, cummmming again, fuckkkkkk me harder, yessss.' A growl escaped your throat as you body writhed, as your pussy oozed out your cum. Oh goddd' you growled just as the cock entered your mouth. Hungrily, greedily you sucked it, cupping his balls, feeling for his ass. Fingering his hole. 'Yes bitch' you heard him say as you forced your finger into his ass. The cock in your pussy fucked you hard, relentless, pounding, thrusting, slamming harder, deeper , faster. He growled, he bucked, his hips thrusting, your too, meeting his thrusts as the cock in your mouth throbbed, exploded, sending a stream of hot cum into your throat as you finger sank deep into his ass. The cock in your pussy slammed deeper and harder as he growled. He exploded. You cried out as you felt the incredible stream hitting the back of your pussy. Oh fuck' you cried out as you came again. 

'Turn her over' the voice of the man you knew ordered. Rough, strong hands turned you. Your head hanging off of the side of the box. A hand came crashing down on your ass. You squealed. 'More, slap me harder' you cried, wriggling your ass, taunting them. Slaps rained down on your ass as you squeezed your breasts. 

'Open her legs' that voice said again. You knew he was going to ass fuck you. You moaned. 'Please, please, fuck me in the ass' Raising your ass, you squealed in pain, in pleasure as he pulled you back onto his cock, sinking the full length inside you tight hole. Relentlessly, slamming into your ass. You held pulled upwards. A cock, hard again, wanted your mouth. You wanted that cock. Opening your mouth as it was fed to you, the cock in your ass pumping, hands slapping your cheeks, tingling, stinging. Sucking harder on that cock in your mouth. Ass being fucked, mouth being fucked. You came again, the fourth orgasm racking through your body. The fifth followed as the cock in your ass exploded. It burnt, it hurt, it was exciting. You orgasmed, your cum dribbling from your pussy over the box. The cock in your mouth exploded. Not so much force as you swallowed.

Soon, you were empty, all the cocks had finished, they looked at you, writhing naked, on the box. You needed more. You needed to cum again. You were hungry.

Turning over, you lay down, spread your legs. Your wet, sore pussy staring them in the face. You parted your pussy lips, slipped three fingers inside yourself, masturbated yourself to another orgasm. The squelch of juices, theirs and yours, inter mingling. You groaned as you came.

They laughed and left.

Turning off the shower, you dried you aching body. The evidence of their hands still there. Your nipples sore, your pussy sore. You smiled. Contented and happy.

Warehouse



Too late, far too late. You had no way of turning back You had gone too far with the teasing in the warehouse.

As you showered, your mind slipped back to the afternoon. The afternoon when your teasing had been turned on you. The hot water cascaded over your naked body, your breasts ached, your nipples ached. The brutality of the afternoon, the enjoyment of it all. As you stood in the shower, your fingers brushed your sore nipples on their way down to your trimmed pussy. Your finger stroked your clitoris. That too ached as did your pussy and your ass. 

Slipping two fingers into your pussy as you closed your eyes. The water streaming down your body, over your breasts, creating a tingle on your nipples. You sighed, two fingers plunged in deeper as you recalled the events.

The midday delivery was due. It was late. You glanced at the clock, already a quarter after 12. The coffee had long gone cold.

You couldn't understand why, but you felt excited. Maybe it was the touch of his fingers on your thigh as you sat in the office?

You certainly teased him, the flash of thigh as you crossed your legs. You knew it was a dangerous play, but none the less, you still continued to tease and yes, allow your legs to be touched. It certainly sent tingles down your spine.

Your fingers pumped in and out of your pussy as the hot water hit your body. Your nipples taking the force of the jets of water, hitting them, making them tingle. You felt the orgasm building inside you. Unable to hold back, you came with such a force you thought you would scream the house down. Muffling the scream as you came, the force unbounding. ' Oh my fuckkkkk' your moaned as you felt the cum trickle out of your pussy.

During the day, the air had an electrical charge, glances between the two of you told a story, a story that you needed him, he needed you. Slyly you undid a button to the top of the dress, allowing a little more cleavage to be on show. This task done, you went over to his desk, armed with the delivery note earlier. Leaning over the desk, you allowed the dress to part, allowed your breasts to be visible. You smiled as you saw his eyes fall there. Your eyes met. Smile met smile. His hand met your knee. You looked. You smiled. His hand crept higher, you didn't flinch, even when his fingers stroked the inner thigh nor when his fingers reached the edge of your panties. Feeling his fingers creep underneath your panties, you sighed as they came into contact with your already damp pussy. You sighed louder as they stroked your pussy lips and moaned as two slipped inside your now wet pussy.

Enjoying his fingers inside your pussy, you moaned as he thrust in deep. The telephone rang. He swore, you swore. The delivery was here.

Sighing, you went to the warehouse area, he in pursuit. You talked, you both agreed to meet after the delivery, agreed to have his cock into your pussy, in your mouth, in your ass. You just wanted his thick shaft. Stroking it as the van pulled up. He felt big and thick. You wanted it, now. You needed that cock now. You needed to fuck, now.

The 4 guys unloaded the contents of the truck, boxes everywhere, scattered but in order, an order you dictated they should be in. Leaning over one box, you were unaware that your dress parted, unaware that your breasts were visible. The concentration as you checked in the delivery took you mind off of the sexual tension. Then you heard on guy, the southern drawl. 'Man look at those tits' was what you heard. Only then, did you realise. Your nipples tingled, your pussy wet. The thrill of exposing your breasts sent that tingle to your nipples. You pretended to ignore the comment. Bending lower, the top opening more.

You flinched as you felt a hand touched you ass. Words were spoken.

'Guys, she is such a fucking teaser, she needs teaching a lesson'. You skin crawled, tingled. Was it fear? Was it excitement? Either way, your body tingled.

You felt arms grabbing you. You heard laughter, deep throated laughter. Male deep throated laughter. Laughter that scared you but also excited you.

The strong arms held you. Unable to move, struggling, swearing, cussing, kicking. All to no avail, trapped, arms held tight behind your back.

They approached, four of them, all big, shirts opened to the waist, all four hairy chests, strong arms, all that lifting.

Your eyes opened wide, arms held tight. You struggled in vain. They reached you, you kicked out. Strong arms grabbed your legs. Held in the air, at their mercy. Two held you, three commenced unbuttoning your dress. You felt your nipples stiffen as the dress was opened, your white brassiere exposed, the lacy cups not hiding your hard nipples. The dress lay totally open, exposing your tiny underpants, again lace, see through. Your pussy leaked, showing your excitement, showing your fear.

'Get her on the boxes' one voice said. They did, they also ripped your panties off of you, baring your pussy, the brassiere came next, not unclipped, torn off, ripped off. Your breasts, your pussy, your body, naked, exposed. You kicked. Hands grabbed your breasts, twisted your nipples, hurting you, exciting you. Legs pulled apart, wide open. Your pussy lips parted, a finger slammed deep inside, no finesse, just hard, straight to his knuckle. You screamed, in pain. Fingers twisted your nipples, fingers plunged into you pussy. Your screams of pain, turned into screams of ecstasy. 'Oh fuck me' you cried. 'Someone fuck my pussy' You writhed, you moaned. Opening your eyes, the pressure upon your arms and legs gone. You lay there, writhing, wanting, needing.

You looked, 5 zippers came down, 5 cocks came out. 'Ohhhhhhh, yesss' you moaned as you saw those 5 cocks, so hard, so big, so thick. 'Fill my holes you bastards' you cried as you parted your pussy lips for them. The first one came to you as you parted your lips, his cock nudged your pussy, one thrust, deep inside he sank his full length.. You moaned in pleasure. Another moved to the side of your. Your felt your hair being pulled, your head being turned. Forcefully, hard. You saw a monstrous cock. 'Suck it bitch' was the order. You complied, allowed your mouth to open, taking it inside your mouth, you sucked greedily. Growling as you swallowed his cock, taking him deep as the other pounded in and out of your pussy. You tried to speak, the thick cock stifled your words. 'Ohhhhhhhhh' you moaned as the cock pounded inside you. Hands, fingers over your body, nipples being pinched, twisted, tugged. Breasts being slapped. You bucked, met his thrusting. The cock soon exploded, bringing you to your first delightful orgasm. You felt his warm seed hitting into you as you came, long and hard.

The cock in your mouth soon followed, gagging you as he held your head, pumping his cock into your mouth. You cupped his balls, squeezing every drop out of him as you swallowed all of his cum, spilling down the sides of your lips, over your chin.

The cock left your pussy, another one took it's place. You moaned, your growled as you swallowed his cum. 'Yes, fuck me harder' The cock in your mouth went limp, you licked it, sucked it clean, not wanting to let it go. He slapped your hand, it stung. Another hand grabbed yours, brought it to his cock. You stroked it as the cock in your pussy slammed so hard into you. The rape, the delightful gang bang, another orgasm. 'Ohhhh, yes, cummmming again, fuckkkkkk me harder, yessss.' A growl escaped your throat as you body writhed, as your pussy oozed out your cum. Oh goddd' you growled just as the cock entered your mouth. Hungrily, greedily you sucked it, cupping his balls, feeling for his ass. Fingering his hole. 'Yes bitch' you heard him say as you forced your finger into his ass. The cock in your pussy fucked you hard, relentless, pounding, thrusting, slamming harder, deeper , faster. He growled, he bucked, his hips thrusting, your too, meeting his thrusts as the cock in your mouth throbbed, exploded, sending a stream of hot cum into your throat as you finger sank deep into his ass. The cock in your pussy slammed deeper and harder as he growled. He exploded. You cried out as you felt the incredible stream hitting the back of your pussy. Oh fuck' you cried out as you came again. 

'Turn her over' the voice of the man you knew ordered. Rough, strong hands turned you. Your head hanging off of the side of the box. A hand came crashing down on your ass. You squealed. 'More, slap me harder' you cried, wriggling your ass, taunting them. Slaps rained down on your ass as you squeezed your breasts. 

'Open her legs' that voice said again. You knew he was going to ass fuck you. You moaned. 'Please, please, fuck me in the ass' Raising your ass, you squealed in pain, in pleasure as he pulled you back onto his cock, sinking the full length inside you tight hole. Relentlessly, slamming into your ass. You held pulled upwards. A cock, hard again, wanted your mouth. You wanted that cock. Opening your mouth as it was fed to you, the cock in your ass pumping, hands slapping your cheeks, tingling, stinging. Sucking harder on that cock in your mouth. Ass being fucked, mouth being fucked. You came again, the fourth orgasm racking through your body. The fifth followed as the cock in your ass exploded. It burnt, it hurt, it was exciting. You orgasmed, your cum dribbling from your pussy over the box. The cock in your mouth exploded. Not so much force as you swallowed.

Soon, you were empty, all the cocks had finished, they looked at you, writhing naked, on the box. You needed more. You needed to cum again. You were hungry.

Turning over, you lay down, spread your legs. Your wet, sore pussy staring them in the face. You parted your pussy lips, slipped three fingers inside yourself, masturbated yourself to another orgasm. The squelch of juices, theirs and yours, inter mingling. You groaned as you came.

They laughed and left.

Turning off the shower, you dried you aching body. The evidence of their hands still there. Your nipples sore, your pussy sore. You smiled. Contented and happy.



Warehouse 13: Endless Wonder



How did you say goodbye to a love affair that had never started? Since her reawakening, it was fair to say Helena had been obsessed with the woman Myka Bering. They had seemed to have such commonalities that Myka Bering was destined to be her lifelong companion. But for all they shared—literature, loss, the Warehouse—their hearts remained their own. Myka was determined to be alone, while Helena was equally determined to take all of her lover, demanding and receiving everything. As a fling they might have worked, but that thought was so bittersweet as to be untenable.

Helena needed a new obsession. It was how her mind worked, running ever to the next adventure, be it in love or danger. A challenge defeated was a challenge done with. And a challenge unattempted, such as winning the insurmountable heart of Agent Bering, would have its taste washed away by sweeter victories.

Recently, her time had been monopolized by one Claudia Donovan. The girl, who had at first struck Helena as a somewhat callow youth, had both blossomed into a capable agent during the months HG had spent with her and revealed herself as having a fine scientific mind. They kept similar schedules: working for long nights on the Warehouse's technology. In many ways, Claudia was continuing the work HG had started over a hundred years prior. As Helena had created the Tesla, so Claudia modified it, modernized it, miniaturized it. And now HG was helping her. Things had come full circle.

Thinking of Claudia sexually came after that. Helena was not a nymphomaniac, but it was hard to ignore how obvious Claudia was. She nursed a crush on Myka as hopeless as Helena's was. Frustrated, virginal—Helena saw the wonder Claudia could become with a little confidence. A bit of experience.

Not that Helena herself was the bastion of esteem she presented herself as. All her accomplishments could be wiped from her mind by the remainder of a single failure, and a hundred years hadn't weathered that scar from her. She vexed, she puzzled, in her darkest moments she wondered if she was fit to inflict herself upon young Claudia. 

The final decision came down to boredom. Leena was at a film festival, Pete and Myka were bagging and tagging, and Artie was off with some mission so mysterious it could only be the Regents. Claudia had nothing to do, and so worked on her internet. Helena had nothing to do, so she worked on Claudia.

She dialed Claudia's number and allowed it to ring before evincing surprise on Claudia's answering. "Claudia! My word! This ingenious contraption is able to both convey my voice to you through the Aether and play Candy Crush!"

"You know, it's not super cute how you keep pretending to be impressed by everything. It's just a little cute. It's Jennette McCurdy cute."

"Please come to my room? I have a can I cannot open. Is there some amazing futuristic way of undoing it, my sweet?"

"I'll be right there."

***

Claudia did not have a crush on Helena.

Claudia wanted to be friends with Helena, sure, who wouldn't? She was funny and smart and a time-traveling bisexual steampunk inventor with amazing hair. If she were a gay man instead of... whatevs, Claudia would glue herself to her. 

But was she curious what Helena looked like naked? Like, super curious?

No. 

She'd seen Helena getting out of the shower once.

***

Claudia came up to find Helena reclining on her bed, laptop on her belly. "No can opener? I thought we could have ravioli."

"No, dear, that was a subterfuge." Helena pouted sympathetically. "Explain this internet to me. It confuses and befuddles my primitive mind!"

"Okay, your act is going full-on Thor."

"Thor? Why are you referring to the mythological Norse god of thunder?"

"Like I believe Pete hasn't shown you any comic book movies."

"I have watched more than one film about a man who dresses as a bat and is thus worthy of attention. Now please, my dear, show me the internet?"

Helena scooted over, moving onto her back against the headboard, patting the mattress beside her. Claudia dutifully curled up with her, drawing her feet under her and hanging onto one sneaker with both hands to make a little pretzel of herself.

"Okay, grandma, here's how you internet. You got your web browser?"

"Yes." Helena had figured that out on her own. "It's asking me if I'm feeling lucky." She gave Claudia a bonfire-bright smile. "Are we feeling lucky, Claudia?"

***

Claudia was completely cool with sitting in bed—on a bed—with HG. In HG's room. It was what cool platonic friends did all the time. She'd done it with Myka. Once. It didn't mean she was gay. She was just showing HG how to surf the information superhighway (Claudia thought that was the Victorian term for it.)

***

Claudia hemmed her hands to her knee. "That's Google. It's a search engine. Like, uh, the librarian of the internet. You ask the subject, it gives you the card catalog."

"Ah," Helena enunciated. "I recall the librarians of my time being much more attractive."

"Sometimes they do a little doodle on holidays. Anyway, what do you want to know? The internet has the answer to every question, and also five hundred wrong answers thrown in free of charge. With some kittens!"

"I wish to know what a Pokémon is," Helena said confidently.

"Okay, so you just type in the word. P-O-K-E-M-O-N." Helena did, hanging on each letter from Claudia. "Good. Now hit search."

"But I'm feeling lucky," Helena countered, pressing the other button. 

A YTMND came up of Bill Cosby talking about Pokémon as only The Simpsons could have Bill Cosby talking about Pokémon.

"Yes," Helena said as it looped, "that explained everything."

"You felt lucky, doesn't mean you were lucky. Backspace and search proper now."

Helena backpacked, retyped in the search field, and hit enter. Almost immediately a pop-up came on showing the warm, loving relationship between a woman and... herself.

"If that's Pokémon, no wonder boys like it so much," HG exclaimed.

***

Porn.

Claudia was in HG's room, sitting on HG's bed, with HG, and they were watching porn.

This was not something Claudia had done at sleepovers. Not that there'd been many sleepovers at the asylum. But what it lacked in teenage bonding and scary movies, it made up for in thorazine.

There was still porn, and HG, in her immediate vicinity. She should do something about that.

***

"I think you have a virus," Claudia said, moving to close the window. 

All she accomplished was opening another pop-up. Now there were two women. And... apparatuses.

"My, my." Helena clicked her teeth. "Is that how it's done these days?"

"No! Well, sometimes." Fed up, Claudia closed the laptop. She'd run an antivirus program later. "That stuff's mainly for dudes. It's not like that in real life—I don't think..."

"You're not sure?" Helena asked. "It didn't appear too different from some of my experiences."

"Yeah, but you're like—you."

Helena smiled magnanimously. "Have you done anything worthy of... popping up on my computer?"

"What? Huh? No. I mean, sure, I've banged—lots—loads of guys—not loads of guys..."

"Women?"

"Women?" Claudia squeaked.

"Half the population," Helena said smugly. "Quite an oversight if you haven't."

"Not... as such," Claudia answered, very careful now. "Hey, what about you? Maybe you haven't slept with any women? Huh? How about that?"

"Perhaps. I could just have a vivid imagination." Helena's eyes widened suggestively before narrowing suggestively. "Have you ever even been kissed, Claudia?"

Now some real outrage vented from Claudia. "Of course I've been kissed! What do you think I am? I may be into My Little Pony but I'm not a Brony!"

"I mean a real kiss."

"There was tongue. And. Everything."

"So... was it anything like this, my dear Ms. Donovan?"

Helena did not surprise Claudia with her kiss. She went in very slow. The thought of it froze Claudia more than anything. Like a deer in blinding headlights, she laid there as Helena moved the laptop from her body, and rolled onto her side over Claudia. She looked the girl over from stem to stern. Black tights, black jacket, pink top, and a streak of pink in her hair. So bright and punkish compared to Helena's conservative blouse and well-tailored trousers. And so intimidating on Claudia's behalf. Without them, she'd be a pale little bunny. Well, Helena would let her stay a predator for now. It'd just make her conquest all the sweeter.

Slowly, Helena whetted Claudia's appetite by brushing their lips to each other, then charted their mouths together, cajoling Claudia into opening up and letting her in. Her tongue silkily explored Claudia's mouth, discovering the pleasures Claudia had not known were hers to be had. Shortly, Claudia was wracked with paroxysms of ecstasy, thrilling to Helena's mastery of her body and desires, sharing the warm caress that could only come from a woman's kiss. Helena put her hand at the nape of Claudia's neck, tightening it, drawing her closer, tighter, bringing Claudia's tongue into her own mouth to engage in a battle of dominance. Their mouths raged with sweet war, tongues dueling within, as with gentility belying her tongue's aggressive efforts, Helena began to pet Claudia's hair.

***

HG was kissing her.

HG was kissing the crap outta her.

And she was kissing HG like whoa.

***

It was only with the utmost care that Helena ended the kiss in whooping gasps of excitement, to move down and extend her dominion to Claudia's throat in the long, wet suckles a master would use upon their domain. Her fingers ran promisingly over Claudia's cheeks, her nose, under her chin, and now Helena softly spoke into Claudia's ears, her words spun glass, spoken at a whisper so they wouldn't shatter.

"Oh, Claudia—the taste of you. The feel of you. As sweet as sugar, my dear one. I must have more. More of you, Claudia. Forgive me—I want to feast upon your sweetness. Allow me one more taste... just one more... then another... and another after that..." Soon, the girl would be hers. Soon, Claudia would know a pleasure she had never—

"So, are you gonna cop a feel or what?"

"Hmm?" Helena asked, brow wrinkled.

"We've been kissing for, like, two minutes. My boobs are right here. Feel me up already, God."

Helena looked around in confusion. Claudia was underneath her, breasts acceptably heaving, but her cheeks weren't flushed, her eyes were not dilated, she showed none of the telltale signs of arousal that Helena waited for in her conquests. It was most odd.

"I'm... seducing you," Helena informed her stately. "Plying you with my wit and charm to open you up for my physical caress, transforming you into a being of sensual pleasure who cannot help but demand more of the ecstasy I bring you—"

"Uh-huh, yeah, that happened, I'm good. On with the foreplay!"

"Fore... play?" Helena was now very confused.

"God, you sound like Pete." Claudia shrugged off her jacket, unzipped her top, and exposed a bra that was quite black. It was most becoming on her fair skin. Helena felt herself trending toward the vapors. "You wanna just skip to the bang-bang? First lesbian I've ever met that's not a breast woman, but sure, yeah, let's light this candle!"

As she began to extricate herself from her pants—a chore, as they were most tight—Helena once more looked around. It was possible an Artifact had escaped her attention. "But... you're a virgin."

"Only half," Claudia said defensively. "If you're worried about my hymen, I'm pretty sure everything that one horseback ride didn't take out was done in by Mr. Phallic the vibrator. So yeah, just get in there and start whatever."

"But..." Helena bit her lip. "I was getting you comfortable with your deflowering. I have to make you feel safe, and warm, and loved, so that I may gently usher you into your sexual awakening as a glorious woman."

"God, grandma, Flowers In The Attic got to the banging faster than you." Claudia rolled on top of Helena, straddling her, then reaching behind herself to take off her bra. The first breasts Helena had seen since the bronze. They were worth the wait. "You want to suck my tits or should I bust out the whipped cream first? Cover my feminine charms in the frothy cream of sweet, cold passion!"

"I don't sound like that," Helena replied snidely. Cold passion? It didn't even make sense. Indelicate passion, maybe. But enough talk. If the 21st century didn't have time for romance, neither did she. 

Helena reached up Claudia's body and clutched her breasts—not the biggest she'd seen, but certainly well-formed enough, warm and heavy in her hands. She gave them a squeeze that had Claudia laughing in delight. Encouraged, she wound her arms around Claudia's back and, sitting up, pulled their bodies together, her face embraced by Claudia's pert cleavage. Her tongue was a delicate instrument of torture, drawing cruelly over every facet of Claudia's sensitive skin, finding and sucking at the little kisses of feeling that brought a pained grimace to Claudia's lustful face. Soon, Helena felt the heat of Claudia's sex glazing her lap.

Further contorting Claudia's body, now doll-like for her purposes, she kissed Claudia's lips while continuing to massage a breast, her freed hand testing the curve of Claudia's spine. Her body arched majestically in pleasure, allowing Helena to caress her all the way to the Calvin Klein boxer shorts topping her svelte legs. Helena squeezed Claudia's ass right through the silk, finding it nicely buoyant. 

"Wanna spank me?" Claudia asked wryly, giving her ass a little shake. 

"You are incorrigible!" Helena exclaimed.

"Damn straight—well, not straight-straight... keep kissing me."

"Yes," Helena barely muttered before her lips found Claudia's lips again. But she had more than those luscious lips, pleasurable as they were, in mind. Even more than Claudia's very touchable ass. No, she wanted her cunt. Her fingers swung around Claudia's body, slipped between their physiques down into the crotch of Claudia's underthings, and with a lightning-strike of pleasure, she was inside the girl.

"Ohh mannnn," Claudia breathed, her eyes tightly shut, something like relief spreading across her face. "Didn't think it'd feel this good—almost as good as my vibe..."

"Almost?" Helena curled her fingers, short fingernails scraping precisely along the walls of Claudia's tight pussy, and the girl lost herself in that—head lolling back, spine arching, breasts quite enticingly outthrust. Helena enjoyed her perspective on a girl's becoming. "My dear, I may just have to ravish you for that."

"Fuck yeah," Claudia said, for once quite terse.

And, flexing her thighs, Helena bounced Claudia on her lap and her two outstretched fingers. It was like starting an engine. The hacker went from a statue, a sculpture of a girl in lust to a vibrantly blurred motion of a girl in ecstasy.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Claudia cried, taken completely by surprise. Helena was an expert rider, carefully calculating the force she brought to bear on Claudia so that though her senses were pushed to the maximum, she felt only pleasure and not an ounce of pain. Helena didn't even try to lay her lips on Claudia's rapidly jiggling breasts or scream-widened mouth. She just gazed upon her acolyte's pleasure. So it was that she knew the opportune moment to add a third finger to Claudia's penetration.

"HOLY SHIT!" Claudia screamed. Her bugging eyes were now tightly shut.

"Such language," Helena tsked. "One should reserve vulgarities for situations that truly call for them. Such as me fisting you."

The mere mention of that had Claudia groaning, both at the prospect of taking an entire hand inside herself and at the knowledge that if Helena asked it of her, she'd be more than willing.

Claudia came shortly, but it brought her no respite. Helena gave her a moment's rest, as she would a horse that had made its run, than she threw Claudia down to the bed. The abrupt slip of Helena's slender fingers from her sex undid any diminishing her lust had taken. She laid supine on the foot of the bed.

"Oh, fuck, Helena, am I gay?"

Helena ignored her query, advancing upon Claudia on all fours. "Round two," she said sweetly, and dipped her head between Claudia's open thighs.

A moment later, Claudia's legs were wide open, her arms gripping the bedposts.

***

Okay, this felt really good and apparently Channing Tatum was the best Men had to offer. Claudia was definitely a bit gay. At least Smallville gay.

***

As wonderful as Helena's fingers had been, her tongue might have been a blowtorch on ice for how it made Claudia's pussy feel. For once, her rushing thoughts stopped, her body took over, and she gave Helena all the pleasure HG asked of her.

If Helena had one great love in her life, it was the solution of puzzles. Whether it be the long, frustrating grind of scientific discovery, the abstract creativity of massaging one of her adventures into a novel, or the madcap spontaneity of retrieving an Artifact, there was nothing she loved more than applying her intellect to the world's complexities and finding it equal to the task. 

Women and men were no exception. She enjoyed taking their measure, enjoyed seducing them, enjoyed finding their ecstasy. And with long minutes of groping exploration, sensual experimentation, she had the length and width of Claudia's bliss. To prove it, Helena fed it back to her, both dominative and worshipful, dining on Claudia until she was on her knees, the girl hoisted up to offer her loins to Helena's seeking mouth, a rush of blood to the head that left Claudia feeling luminous when Helena gave the girl a first-timer's mercy.

"Not bad for an old woman, I should say," Helena breathed, fetching herself back to the head of the bed, leaving Claudia wrapped around a bedpost. "I'd like to see one of your internets do that."

Her breath still coming in whirling gulps, Claudia raised her head. "You would, huh?"

***

Claudia wondered what the odds were that this was all some Artifact-induced fever dream.

Good enough that she should probably prioritize round two over figuring out her sexuality. Whatever it was, it had to include H.G. Wells.

***

Naked, Claudia rushed Helena back to her own room, the inventor keeping up and undressing herself in equal measure. Claudia pulled her along regardless. Kids these days. 

Safely ensconced in Claudia's room, Helena shed the last of her undergarments to sit on one of Claudia's couches. As much as she enjoyed the anarchic sprawl of Claudia's nudity, the girl had yet to learn how to truly present herself. When Claudia noticed how Helena was lying down, her nudity artfully poised, it stopped her dead in her tracks.

After a moment, she forced herself to keep moving. Helena observed the technical details of her enterprise as much as she did Claudia's enticing nakedness. Claudia gathered up a guitar, an amp, and another, rather oblong device. This she plugged in much like the guitar and the amp, then presented it to Helena.

"You sorta... sit on this."

Helena set her eyes upon Claudia's face, her lips, gaze as focused as a sunbeam through a glass. "I can think of better things to be enthroned upon."

"Hey. Keep your pants on. Off. I like your pants." Claudia's attempt at conversation degenerated into muttering, as she rushed back to examine her connections.

Helena did her best to sooth the girl by sitting cross-legged upon the couch, device situated resolutely between her thighs. Her hair sweeping straightly and sleekly down her neck and shoulders like molten metal to tickle at her full breasts. She quite enjoyed the picture she presented, even if only to herself.




Warehouse 13: Endless Wonder



After being bent over for far too short a time, Claudia straightened and turned around with most of her bareness hidden by the guitar slung from her shoulder. It seemed far too big an instrument to be wielded by such a lithe girl, and Helena was reminded of a cabaret girl whose weapon of choice was a twelve-inch apparatus. She recalled wondering which the girl was trying to simulate, coitus or bestiality.

"Okay, you know what a vibrator is, right?" Claudia began, as nervous as a student giving a presentation.

"My dear, I had a hand in inventing the first electromechanical manipulator." Helena brushed a stray lock of hair from her face nonchalantly. "And testing it."

"Well, this is like that, only—I'll show you." And Claudia's finger plucked at a guitar string. 

In the same instant, Helena felt a little frisson of pleasure begin, sparks from a distant fire flashing on her cunt. She quaked, just a little. "You tease me, darling."

"Oh, you don't like being teased?" A smile flashed from Claudia. Emboldened by Helena's enjoyment, she quickly grew mischievous once more. 

And her supple fingers suddenly played a quick tremolo on the guitar. The object between Helena's legs shook as if transmitting the vibrator of those taut strings directly into Helena's body. Helena was almost ignorant of it, focused entirely on the sway and jiggle of Claudia's young body and her skillful fingers at work. It was like being fingered, only she could see the fingers as they would be inside her, their talent and their cleverness. A few seconds' music brought her to the cusp of orgasm, her body now breathless.

Claudia couldn't control herself anymore. She could barely stop herself from throwing the guitar aside and ravishing Helena like she was on an HBO show—but it was a 1953 Fender Telecaster. So instead she launched into one of her favorite guitar solos, a fast-paced flamenco dance of a number she'd heard Rodrigo y Gabriela perform live. While her left hand fretted with the skill of a surgeon, her right hand flew over the chords she was hitting. 

Helena might've been having a seizure, her body sizzling as she danced in place, pulled up and cast down like she was a puppet on fraying strings. Claudia was enthralled by the sight, but like playing in concert with a truly gifted musician, it only inspired her more. She played better than ever before, finding every rhythm, letting the music flow through her and into the guitar and out into the room and deep inside of Helena like there wasn't one inch between them, just hot blood that ran in all their veins—

They were all living things, even her guitar, her music, and when she thumped the heel of her hand on the body of her guitar to send a bass rush through the sound, she could see Helena's heart leap and her body pulse and a throb start that only grew as she continued to play, the song work now, making her sweat, making her sting, Helena gasping, eyes rolling back in her head, lips forming little Os of sound that hid deep below the music, until Claudia could see Helena was done in the sweat she was sheathed in and the breaths she took that nearly bent her body from in to out. She hit one last note, held it, held it, pinging that one string until it undid Helena and she came crashing down, nearly off the couch.

Then Claudia played a soft little arpeggio to cool Helena down, feel her out, as she reached out with her foot and gently ran her toe over Helena's defeated body.

"Learned that on Wikihow," she said, when the final note had faded and the guitar was as still as Helena.

"I invented it," Helena said, quite smugly for someone who was a half-inch from falling off her furniture.

"Grandma, let it go. That was all future. I'm sure you were great in your day, but in the year 2000, kids know more about sex from reading Buffy fanfics than you did from ruffling your petticoats. As cool as steampunk is, you Victorian guys didn't even know if the clitoris was real or not."

"I discovered it. Multiple times. Including today."

"And that was cool and all, but I just got you off like I was playing Guitar Hero."

Helena finally opened her eyes. "I don't suppose you have a more traditional vibrator—or is that intermittent music I hear in the night you pleasuring yourself?"

***

Now that she thought about it, Claudia was pretty sure there was no Artifact involved in the situation at all and she had just gotten HG off using a guitar in a way no one but Axl Rose had ever used a guitar.

It was pretty awesome.

***

Claudia's vibrator was a sight to behold. Long but not ungainly, sleek, silver, its tip coming to an almost pointed head. Helena liked it. It resembled one of the fantastical rockets of her own time's fiction, in no way as cuddly or unthreatening as the year 2010 made so many of its sex toys. It was almost intimidating in the pleasure it promised.

And Claudia was the same way, sitting naked on the bed, her guitar leaning next to her. Already flushed from one orgasm, eager for another. Bringing such a lovely creature to the pleasure she deserved would be prospect enough to daunt anyone, but Helena relished the opportunity.

She approached.

"I'm not some kind of freak, you know. I just have one or two vibes, depending on what mood I'm in. Three, tops."

"Shhh," Helena said. No more talking. No more banter. She ran the vibrator's tip down the bridge of Claudia's nose, off the tip, over her lips. It wasn't a sexual gesture—if she wanted that, she would've touched Claudia's face herself. She wanted to enflame Claudia's mind, open up her sense memories with the faded taste and smell of the vibrator. The smell of her arousal. The taste of her pleasure.

Then Helena turned it on. The vibrational sound wasn't tinny at all. It was firm but understated, a steady thrumming like a fading note on Claudia's guitar, one that lingered on and on. Its warm vibes were even pleasurable on Helena's hand. Helena moved them down Claudia's wonderfully strong jaw, down her narrow throat—not as long or as elegant as Myka's, but that thought barely occurred to Helena before it was gone again. The other woman was almost wholly gone from her mind.

Between them, Claudia's bosom swelled with all the pertness of youth. Helena wound the vibrator over and between them, carving an S shape into her cleavage. Claudia's foot tapped uncontrollably. As Helena had suspected, Claudia's breasts were entirely too sensitive and the girl had no idea had to enjoy them properly. Most nights she probably avoided them altogether in favor of the confident masturbation of her genitals. 

Helena did no such thing. She flickered the vibrator all over Claudia's breasts, always at the same speed but from different angles, different touches. In seconds, both Claudia's nipples were painfully erect, sweet fruit begging to be plucked. Now Helena spiraled the vibrator over Claudia's left breast while massaging the right with her fingers, the very tips tapering over the succulent contours and soothing the nipple into a kind of dull hysteria when compared to the feverish force the vibrator was applying elsewhere.

"Okay, put it in me, you can put it in me, I could really use it in me here!" Claudia gushed.

Helena looked up at her, irritated. And here she'd thought they were communing. No matter. Helena knew how to shut her up. 

Their lips pressed together as if for the first time; Claudia in her shock almost trying to keep hers shut, but the crush of Helena's personality against hers slowly opened her up into a long, deep kiss. Helena's empty hand now was at the small of Claudia's back, arm wrapped around her, bringing her squirming body to Helena's. 

The vibrator slipped away from Claudia's body like a thief in the night as Claudia stood with Helena, their flesh melding, the overwarm frenzy of Claudia's arousal being fed upon by the older woman. Helena's tongue stabbed into Claudia's mouth, to be obediently played upon by Claudia's own, like Helena was breathing pleasure into her. 

Helena was impressed that Claudia kept standing as long as she did. Sensing that the girl was actually growing used to her ministrations, she left Claudia's lips parted with arousal to whisper in her ear: "Put your arms around me, dear. There's a girl."

Claudia was quick to obey, hugging herself to HG, and Helena embraced her in turn. The vibrator lowered, went down down down, never touching Claudia's skin just making its gentle hum, as threatening as a rattlesnake's warning. Then Helena brought the tip of the vibrator to Claudia's thigh and the hacker nearly jumped out of her skin. Helena laughed, kissed her soothingly, once then more, the vibrator still against her flesh. When Claudia was used to the tingle of pleasure that had invaded her body, Helena raised it. Just an inch at a time, a little something that happened between kisses. 

Claudia arched into Helena's touch, now resting her head on Helena's shoulder as HG sucked at her neck. At first just lingering kisses, but the sensation quickly grew until Helena bit her silky skin, Claudia gasping with pain. A little fold of her skin was locked in Helena's teeth and Claudia barely noticed the vibrator trailing up her leg when Helena sucked hard on her flesh. HG Wells was giving her a hickey.

It was a reminder. Now, when Claudia touched herself, when she fantasized about a skilled lover fulfilling all her lusts, she wouldn't forget just who she was dreaming of.

The vibrator hit her sex just as suddenly as the realization had. Not slow anymore, but fast, invasive, jolting into her and Claudia couldn't believe how far it went without hurting her, the piercing earthquake now deep inside her. She came almost instantly. She hadn't known how close to orgasm she was.

Helena eased the vibrator out of her as she rode out the storm of her climax. Her body clutched the sleek little toy like it had a mind of its own, but Helena was inexorable. She pulled the vibrator away and replaced it with her hand, massaging Claudia's taut, engorged folds. She deeply kissed the girl once more, tasting the fresh passion that had welled up inside her. When Claudia returned the kiss, she brought the vibrator back.

This time, Claudia's sex immediately gripped the vibrator like a strong fist, Helena laughing with glee as it resisted her attempts to plunge the vibrator in and out of Claudia as a man would a phallus. 

"Shhhhh..." Helena soothed, holding the vibrator still, just letting Claudia grind herself against it with what little control she had over her body. "Easy now. Just let it come. Hold still. Won't be long now. Almost, my dear—now. Yes, now!"

Claudia swooned as the vibrator once more catalyzed her body, transforming it into a thing of sighs and pleasure. Helena held her as her legs failed her completely. She transferred her down to the bed. Claudia laid flat on her back like a bride awaiting her groom.

"Again, Claudia?"

As strung out as she was, Claudia still found the energy to nod.

***

Claudia wondered if there was any way she could be more having sex with HG. Playing Alanis Morissette as they boned? Swearing in Spanish whenever her bajingle got Frenched? Anal?

Well, not on a first date. She was a lady, after all.

***

Helena had almost used Claudia's pussy to the point of breakage, but she tried it once more, this time gently lapping at the spoils of her previous efforts as she had Claudia suck on the vibrator. If Claudia stopped using her mouth, Helena stopped using hers. Claudia was able to grow used to the taste of her own pleasure long enough for Helena to taste it herself.

Now Helena truly did let her inexperienced sex recover from the excess it had been put through. She rolled Claudia over and gently teased her anus with the vibrator, her fingers, her tongue, all working in turns to open it up and allow her to bring Claudia to climax another way. Claudia wasn't used to it, but that just made the experience more novel. Helena slipped the vibrator in the back just as she had the front, and Claudia's body rocked once more in the familiar dance.

Amazing how long the vibrator's batteries could last. Most of Helena's inventions would've needed to be wound up again by now.

Helena set it aside anyway, rolling Claudia over again to kiss her, stroke her sides, hold their bodies together so everywhere they met their fleshes caressed each other. Claudia didn't come from that, but she was amply aroused. She begged for more of the vibrator, for Helena's touch, but HG was firm. She told Claudia to touch herself and the girl did, her fingers not as experienced with her own body as they'd been with the guitar, but Helena whispered in her ear. How to touch herself, how to feel herself. Claudia came again and Helena kissed each of her fingers in turn. 

Now Helena picked the vibrator back up, taking it to the bathroom to wash up. She wasn't quite sure what the cleaning instructions would be, but a sud-soaked washcloth seemed like the best answer.

Claudia did not wait for her to return. She appeared in the doorway, held herself back as Helena dried the vibrator, then it was like a few minutes had been edited from Helena's life. Suddenly they were in the shower, kissing, melding. Claudia's body was far hotter than it'd felt a few minutes ago. The young flesh was learning Helena's touch. It was boiling with possibilities. 

Helena let Claudia have her way with her for a few moments, but the shower was large and the vibrator was still in her hand. Soon she had Claudia on all fours, the pulsating vibrator thudding into her from behind, with all the power Helena's exquisitely muscled arm could give it. She thrust the vibrator into Claudia's cunt until the knuckle of her first finger went with it, and Claudia had to brace herself against the opposite wall to keep from being driven into it by Helena's coitus. She came like it was a trick Helena had taught her.

Her arms and legs ran out from under her like they'd been melted by the hot water. Helena wasn't done with her yet. She suspected she wouldn't be done until Claudia was begging for mercy. Sitting down on the wet tile, she dragged Claudia into her lap, kissing desperately at Claudia's neck and spine like she could suck the young bliss out of the girl and into her own conflicted system. A vampire.

Claudia threw her head back, her wet hair drained of color by the water and her own sweat, sweeping over Helena's face. She craned her neck, offered her throat. "Please!" she begged, her voice so garbled with the shower spray flowing over it that it was barely English.

Helena slid three easy fingers into her as she kissed her. Claudia's sex was wetter than her lips. Her hips canted up, thighs tight around Helena's wrist. With her other hand, the inventor stroked the vibrator over Claudia's clit.

"Fuck! Holy fuck!"

Inside Claudia, Helena's fingers curled, found the marvelous little 'G-spot' that science had finally gotten around to naming. Claudia's teeth tightly shut, bared in a feral grin as Helena pleasured her inside and out. She could barely hold onto the girl, Claudia was bucking so. A husky, bestial noise emanated from deep in Claudia's throat. For all its aggression, it was a helpless sound.

This went on. Claudia was truly multiorgasmic, and what Helena had awoken was in no sign of slowing. She shook against Helena multiple times, electrocuted by her climaxes, but begged like a nymphomaniac whenever Helena made to stop. So, again and again, Helena mapped the interior of Claudia's silken channel; over and over, she tested the limits of Claudia's clitoris. Until the water began to run cold and Helena decided she was spoiling the poor girl. 

She ordered Claudia to hold the hood of her clit open, a command Claudia graciously obeyed—she had a future as a submissive, if her tastes ran that way—and after thanking her primly, Helena was free to turn the vibrator to its highest setting and apply it to each and every one of the sensitive nerves that formed her clitoris. Hard.

Claudia came without the slightest restraint, one orgasm claiming her body before the last had given it up, her sex exploding, imploding, exploding again. She felt wet—not moist or damp, like before, but wet—and that wetness grew and grew, like she was becoming wetness, until it spilled out of her, four orgasms seeming to pull her in all different directions at once and that being wrung out of her. 

Helena turned the shower off before the precious liquid could be washed away. She considered it a grand artistic statement to see a woman's ejaculation. Claudia just couldn't believe it was possible for a feeling to be so intense.

One orgasm after another had its way with her until the flow stopped, her pressure relieved, her body left with Helena's loving grip and the twitching aftershocks in her hips and fingers. She couldn't move. Couldn't speak. A second-grade reading level seemed a lot to ask at the moment.

At length, Helena unfurled from her like her shadow running away to have its own adventures. She placed the vibrator with the shampoo bottles and soap, grabbed six or seven towels from the stand, and descended on Claudia to wipe her dry, to swathe her in towels, to curl up with her and cover both of them in makeshift bedding. 

"My!" Helena said in a keen understatement. "I'd say that was a successful experiment."

Owing to Claudia's vast intelligence and incredibly quick wit, she was able to form basic sentences. "Yeah." Very basic sentences.

"Of course, there is scientific principle to consider..."

"Huh?" Claudia's newfound cognition was not immune to backsliding.

"Well, my dear Claudia, for an experiment to be considered a success, it must be reproducible." Helena lightly, fondly, kissed Claudia's brow and the feverish mind it contained. "The results must be repeated. After vigorous... vigorous testing."

It had been a long day. Claudia might've just fallen asleep then. 

But Helena was pretty sure she fainted.

***

Claudia's last thought before she lost consciousness involved endless wonder.

The Warehouse was pretty great, but once you'd seen one combination of eBay bait and fireballs, you'd seen them all.

As it turned out, her vagina—as handled by the right time-traveling bisexual steampunk inventor—was way more endless.



Warehouse 13: Kiss The Fist



Myka had been hit before. She'd been in car accidents before. The thing about that kind of pain was that you whited out. There was a point where you just overloaded and all the pain in the world was just a dull ache. That was bad in its own way. There was always the fear that a nerve had pinched or a vertebra had shattered or something, anything, had gone wrong in your head. And that was it. That was all it took to end a career.

That, for once, wasn't a concern for Myka. Oddly liberating, considering. For the past four hours (that was the timespan they'd agreed to, although there was no way of knowing if HG had kept to it. It felt longer at some times, shorter others), she'd been hung from the ceiling by her wrists and subjected to treatment that made it temporarily impossible for Myka to recall the tender, generous, almost sappy lover that HG usually proved.

Every twenty minutes (as Myka estimated; sometimes it felt shorter, other times longer), Helena had returned. Sometimes, she threw cold water on Myka. Sometimes she beat her with a riding crop. Other times, with a cane. She always attended to Myka with a delicious sadism; sarcastically asking if Myka would like her to stop, wondering if Americans had less tolerance for pain than her usual conquests, wondering what Myka's friends and family would say if they could see her like this. 

The torture, as it were, was almost irrelevant next to the verbal barrage HG subjected her to. Helena wasn't the type to carelessly flail away at Myka. All the theatrics were as carefully thought out as the cuts of a surgeon's scalpel. Naturally, Myka's nipples and buttocks had been subjected to the customary tools, but HG had also been ingenious in the ways she punished Myka's front, back, and sides. In one visit, she did nothing more to Myka's feet than tickle them with a feather. It'd been unbearable, and Myka had actually, unthinkingly gasped the safe word before HG ripped her gag away and challenged her "Did I just hear a safe word?"

In her outraged expression, only Helena's eyes had given away her concern.

"No," Myka had said dutifully.

"No?"

"No, mistress."

Nonetheless, Helena had put away the feather, never to be seen again. Ironically, it was the only thing too kinky for Myka to enjoy.

And Helena had been all too happy, in her own cruel way, to tend Myka's wounds at the end of each "visit," efficiently treating each cut and welt so it would be invisible before Myka returned to work. All the time deriding Myka, humiliating her, making her want it more.

On rare occasions when Myka was able to get through a session without a peep, Helena had rewarded her by putting enough slack in the chain for Myka to fall to her knees. There were times when Myka was sure she'd whimpered, loudly, and HG let her down regardless—it occurred to her that Helena was just being safe, making sure she didn't overexert herself. It didn't feel that way, though, because Helena only let Myka down to serve her.

"You call that licking my cunt? I don't know why I even bother shaving down there when all you do is peck it like you're visiting an aunt. Come on, do try not to be completely worthless. Be a little better than my own fingers, Myka, come now, I had such faith in you..."

On and on, slipping into Myka's ears and keeping her on a perfect edge, almost weeping when she couldn't bring Helena to orgasm. For those four hours, all other concerns, duties, expectations, and other obligations melted away. She literally existed only to please HG.

Four hours and she'd been stripped bare, every stitch of clothing ripped away or cut off. Then Helena walked in, a dressing gown over the leather corset and... other items that had made her so imposing. She pushed ahead of her, of all things, a wheelchair.

"Easy now," she whispered, her tone light and loving once more as she undid the manacles, revealing the thick white bands they had left on Myka's wrists. She caught Myka as well, helping her down onto a blanket she'd thought to cover the cold floor with. Instantly, sensation rushed back into Myka's body. She gasped, every inch of her skin glowing with a different kind of pain. Helena pressed a double-dose of Tylenol into her mouth and had a tall glass of water on hand to wash it down.

"How do you feel?" Helena pleaded.

There was only one thing Myka felt. "Please. Please, mistress..." She took hold of Helena's gloved hand with a grip so weak HG had to actively help Myka in leading her hand down to her swollen sex.

"Yes," Helena said, cooing with understanding. "Of course."

She ran her hand over Myka with the lightest of touches and Myka came before Helena could so much as enter her.

After that, it was a simple matter of Helena helping Myka to a warm bath she'd already drawn. The waters were already filled with some relative of epsom salt that instantly proved soothing. It alone was almost worth the price of being brutalized.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Helena asked again, just for Myka to once more beg her off.

"If I needed a doctor every time someone went over me with a bullwhip..."

"You'd be any woman at all." Helena practically pushed understanding on her.

"I guess I'm not just any woman then."

"Certainly not. And by the way, it wasn't a bullwhip, it was a horsewhip, there's a keen difference..."

"Not from where I was hanging."

"I have firsthand experience, I can assure you."

"I believe you." Myka smiled. Her lips hurt, owing to the very specific torture Helena had selected. A series of hard, brutal kisses that had literally left Myka breathless. "Would you like to wash my hair?"

"I like anything to do with your hair." Getting down on her knees upon the bathmat, Helena gathered up a vast quantity of shampoo in her hands and took to massaging it into Myka's scalp. It was pure bliss; not even a twinge of pain. Myka suddenly understood why Helena had been so reluctant to pull her around by the hair, something that had come up in a previous bout of enthusiastic lovemaking.

"Mistress?"

"Please, don't call me that. Not when no one has a riding crop."

"Helena," Myka cooed, relishing the lovely sound. "You used to do this in London, right?"

"Yes, Myka." Although reticent to talk about it, Helena marshaled her words.

"Was it... I don't know... a thing?"

"I dabbled in a great many extracurricular activities." Helena pulled up a lock of Myka's hair and lovingly twisted it in parody of Myka's usual curliness. "To your benefit; I hope you're grateful I was perverse enough to 'hold hands' with open-minded women and the occasional nun."

"Very grateful. But c'mon, HG, that was a sex dungeon back there. Who builds a sex dungeon on a whim?"

"A man?" Helena guessed. "No, I was initially... impressed by how readily available such things are in your century. Back in my day, they were very underground. Secret circles, hidden printing presses... Perhaps I overindulged."

"What other way do you indulge?" Myka teased. 

"Give me your backside, dearest." Myka leaned forward so Helena could, gingerly, lather her criss-crossed back with soap. "But as I recall, you were rather enthusiastic about finding out my 'kinks'."

"How am I supposed to react when I find out you have a bondage porn stash? Tell Pete so he has enough jokes to last until the 22nd century? I know it's not a 'traditional' couples' activity, but... I mean, I liked it."

"Did you?" Helena asked seriously.

"It was really..." Myka hesitated. So did Helena. "It hurt, yeah, but it was like the pain was... detached from hurting. I knew you weren't really going to harm me, so all that left was the sensation. It was intense, sure, but then you, uhh... you matched the intensity. I'm not sure I want it to be our regular Saturday night thing, but... I'm trying to think of a classy way to say that you did some really cool things to my nipples."

"Well, that is a very American way to put it..." Taking gentle hold of Myka's chin, Helena ushered her back against the bath pillow. Stretched down the length of the tub, Myka gave in to having the front of her body washed. Her poor, abused nipples sprang to attention at one pass of the washcloth.

"You still haven't told me why you liked it," Myka said, eyes closed, enjoying the deep-bellied heat Helena was stirring in her. "Are you embarrassed that it's your one-true-kink?"

"Do you expect me to be ambivalent about the prospect of hurting you?" Helena asked very seriously.

Myka's eyes opened. "Are you really ashamed right now?"

Helena shrugged. "Sometimes I feel as perverse as I am."

"I asked for that. I enjoyed it. Even if you're a pervert, you're not alone."

"I know." Helena took Myka's hand. She lifted it, only to wash at the marks the chains had left. "I guess it seems... it occurs to me... that suffering is intrinsic to humanity. We each have our crosses to bear, our pain to feel. I thought perhaps if you felt some pain in a controlled environment, where it could give us some satisfaction, then it could alleviate suffering elsewhere in your life." She scrubbed harder at Myka's hand, fingers interlocked with her own. "I've been so very unkind to you..."

Myka surged out of the bath, pulling Helena to her by the hair and kissing her so hard they both felt the sweet pain of crushed lips. "No," she said, simply and definitively. "Don't bring that into this. You've brought me too much happiness to ever have to beat yourself up to even things out. I wanted this and I want you. You're my one-true-kink."

Helena breathed. "That's a very American way to put it..."

Myka kissed her again. Softer this time. So it didn't hurt either of them. "You're going to take a bath with me now."

"I am?"

"And I'll have my way with you."

"Ah."

"Just call me Mistress Bering. I punish people whose hair isn't as good as mine."

"I suppose you'll want me to take off my apparatus so you can wear it, then?"

"Don't second-guess Mistress Bering."



Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date



A quick stop-off in Baltimore to collect Edgar Allen Poe's stuffed raven—obvious, that one—and before Pete knew it, he and Myka were on a double-date with HG and Giselle. 

Pete generally thought Myka and HG were a bit like him and the Browns—he hated them until he liked them. Sometimes, Myka went all in with HG, phoning her, Skyping with her, writing super-long snail-mail letters to her by hand, even playing those Facebook games with her. And then sometimes it was like they were quarantining themselves. Once, Myka had spent an entire date on the phone with HG because she'd found a new amino acid or something. Another time, she'd spent an entire date not talking about HG, which you would think would be like an entire date where the topic of HG Wells didn't come up: not so. 

Now, in HG's swanky pad on Aliceanna Street, Myka and her were getting along famously; HG only taking a break from hearing about Myka's ongoing revision of the Warehouse manual to talk about her Kickstarter project. DNA. That was all Pete understood of it. With him and HG's date pretty much shut out of the conversation, he looked across the table at Giselle. With her huge blue eyes, her cute upturned nose, and her vibrant red hair, she reminded him of that actress. What was her name? Oh yeah, Isla Fisher. 

"You know, one of my squirrels says it's going to be a very cold winter," Giselle said. "Do you have enough winter clothes? I'm sure I could make you a nice cape if you don't already have one." 

"No, I'm fine on capes," Pete told her. "Wait—your squirrels?" 

"Yes. Mr. Deathurge. He's collecting a lot of nuts." 

"Mr. Deathurge." 

"Oh yes. Squirrels are much more bloody-minded here than they are in Andulasia. They're not as bad as geese, though. I don't know who taught the geese such vile language..." 

Pete nodded along. "So, how did you two meet?" 

"Craigslist. I have a thing for hasty, poorly thought out relationships and Helena was looking for one. See, first I was going to marry Prince Edward, but I'd only known him a day. Then I was going to marry Robert—I knew him for a week—but then things just got weird. We disagreed about things, there were things he liked that I didn't and things I liked that he didn't... it was just a mess!" 

"That... sounds pretty standard, really." 

"That's what Helena says. Something about a honeymoon phase and, honestly, who can understand her when she talks about scientific gobbledygook like that? But the point is, I realized this whole thing of staying with one person your whole life is unrealistic, when instead you can just share true love with anyone for a couple of days or even a single night, then move on!" 

Pete sighed. Where were girls like this when he was in high school? "Not sure that's really any more realistic." 

"Oh, it is! I've seen several movies about it." 

"Not sure James Bond movies count." 

"No, I mean pornos." 

"Ah. So..." Pete briefly glanced at Myka and Helena, who were discussing something so animatedly that their gestures looked like sign language. "You and HG—you're just gonna up and quit on her someday?" 

"When true love's run its course, yes. After all, it'd be rather selfish to insist we stay together when we don't feel the same way about each other, just because we get along alright." She glanced at his plate. "Oh, have you finished your plate?" 

"Yes ma'am!" 

"Seconds?" 

"Nah, I'm full." 

"There's a first," HG said. She and Myka giggled together. 

"Hey, I'm getting on in years. Need to watch that the ol' spare tire doesn't get too inflated. This one loves the pecs, eh?" He grabbed Myka in a noogie. "Eh? Eh?" 

"Pete, c'mon, you're mussing my hair." She slipped free of him, then looked to HG. "Sorry about him." 

"Don't apologize for me—what's that noise?" 

Giselle was calling out like a Ricola commercial. A moment later, a swarm of gerbils slid from the walls, circled up the table, and carried off Pete's plate and utensils. The swarm headed for the kitchen, bearing their dishes like a very small Viking war party's loot. 

"Did that just happen or did I fall asleep watching Ratatouille again?" Pete asked. 

"We run a small animal shelter," HG said, "and Giselle talks to animals." 

Everyone was speechless save for Giselle. "I'll tell them you said thanks." 

"Helena," Myka began, "where did you say Giselle was from again?" 

"Oh, I'm from Andalasia originally, then I fell through a magic portal to New York, then I broke up with Robert and went to stay with my mother, then an evil queen cast a spell that transported us all to a town called Storybrooke, where I fell through another magic portal and ended up here!" 

"And where's Storybrooke, exactly?" 

"A mystical, magical land named Maine!" 

*** 

After dinner, HG broke out the opium while Giselle washed up. They could hear her singing a happy working song through the kitchen wall. 

"Care for some?" Helena asked, holding the pipe out to Myka. "I had some rather lovely times in Rome thanks to the stuff." 

"No, HG, we would not like any hash!" Myka's eyes were doing the thing again. It looked like she and HG were on the verge of another communications black-out. "You're dating a fairy tale princess and you didn't think to tell us?" 

"Well, I am a time-traveling inventor from the 1800s. Her thing didn't seem so odd in comparison." 

"She talks to animals!" 

"And she's very cute," HG pointed out. 

Myka looked at Pete incredulously. 

"This might not be that helpful," he told her, "but booty do be bangin'." 

"Pete! Don't call other women attractive while you're dating me!" 

"What? I was agreeing with Helena!" 

"You don't have to agree vehemently!" 

"I wasn't being vehement—HG, help me out here." He reached a hand out to here. "You're dating Giselle; would she mind if you said Myka was banging?" 

Helena was taken aback. "I can't think of any circumstances in which I would say Myka was banging. And as for the other concern, Giselle has nothing to do with Artifacts or the Warehouse, so I don't see how I'm under any obligation to inform you as to her status. Unless you want to be kept in the loop for everything weird I encounter." 

"Maybe we do!" Myka said stridently. 

"Alright—there's this thing called a remix and it seems to be someone taking a snippet of one song's lyrics and playing it repeatedly, several times, in a row, and then people listen to this for pleasure?" Helena shrugged. 

"You know what we mean!" 

"I know you handle Artifacts, Eureka handles fringe science, the DCIS handles Alphas—under whose purview do fairy tales fall?" 

Myka's arms were crossed with the old fire. She'd never lost a jurisdictional turf war before and she didn't intend to now. "Ours. I'm claiming it. We're going to Storybrooke and we're checking the place out and if they have any Artifacts lying around, they'd just better watch out!" 

Giselle poked her head into the room with a Zip-Loc bag. "Does anyone want leftovers?" 

"Maybe," Pete replied. "The gerbils didn't help make any of those, did they?" 

"They did! They were very helpful!" 

Myka looked suddenly under the weather. Pete hesitated. Then took the bag. 

*** 

They drove in two cars. Pete, Myka, HG, and Giselle all piled into the sedan, with Claudia and Jinks in the Prius to meet up with them en route. Myka turned on the radio, flipping through the dial for a second before stopping at Nicki Minaj. 

"Hey, princess," she called back, "rap songs don't make your head explode, do they?" 

"I enjoy all artistic endeavors," Giselle reported, "even the ones about people's genitalia." 

"Yeah, well, I don't," Pete said, reaching for the dial. "They got any classic rock in this state?" 

Myka slapped his hand away. "Leave it," she told him. "It wouldn't do you any harm to expand your cultural awareness." 

"Of what, the 90s? I was there, and Baby Got Back was a much better song then." 

"With much less feminist empowerment." 

"Feminist. Pah. That really what you want to call it?" 

Myka leaned against her car door to look at him. "What would you call it?" 

"Trend-whoring. You really gonna call Nicki Minaj a feminist when her album cover shows more skin than an issue of Maxim?" 

"What's wrong with showing a little skin?" 

"That's not what you said the last time I went to the comic store." 

"There's a difference between Catwoman being drawn with her zipper halfway down her vagina by some man and Nicki Minaj choosing to be photographed a certain way!" 

"You don't think some record label guy or manager is saying 'hey, Nicki, let's put a picture of your ass on the CD! All the guys will buy it cuz it's an ass, and all the ladies will buy it because they think it's sooooo feminist.'" 

"So you don't think Nicki Minaj is feminist, just because she showed her ass?" 

"I don't think Nicki Minaj is feminist because she works with rapists." 

"Oh, how much control do you really think she has in the industry, that she can avoid anyone who's controversial—" 

"You just said she had enough control to put her ass on the album, which apparently the Patriarchy hated, because it was so damn feminist—" 

"It's a woman taking pride in her appearance!" 

"So you would buy a poster of that? Since it's just a woman enjoying her own appearance?" 

"Yes, I would! I have an aesthetic appreciation!" 

"Well, that explains what you and HG were doing back in the day. Just enjoying each other's aesthetics!" 

Myka growled. "I would punch you in the shoulder right now if I didn't know you'd get off on it!" 

"It's not that hot, just like you!" Pete pulled to the side of the road, leaving the tires as balding as William Shatner, and got out of the car. "There! You drive! Since I know how much you like being in control all the time!" 

Myka threw herself into the driver's seat. "And I know how much you hate a woman being in control!" 

"Go on then! I'll get a ride from Claudia, who manages to combine being a feminist with having a sense of humor!" 

"Fine!" 

"Fine!" Pete walked away, drawing his cell phone from his pocket. 

Helena put a consoling hand on Myka's shoulder. Giselle looked between them, and to Pete, aghast, then got out of the car. 

"Giselle?" Helena called. 

"You go ahead. Someone should keep him company." 

"You're sure?" 

"It's fine. You and Myka should be alone, anyway. She is your best friend." 

"Okay," Helena said uncertainly. Myka revved the engine before taking off, leaving Pete and Giselle in the middle of the forest they'd been driving through. Pete quickly confirmed that Jinks and Claudia would be along the same road in an hour or so, then snapped his phone shut. He resisted the urge to throw it against the nearest tree. Instead, he found a fallen log and sat down heavily. 

Giselle sat down with him. "Are you and Myka going to get a divorce?" 

*** 

Emma didn't like the round table. It was cheesy, for one thing, and while she knew how important it was symbolically to convert the mayor's office into something better reflecting Storybrooke's leadership—actually taking it away from Regina gave her the same queasy feeling as spending time with Henry had when Regina was right there but shut out from him. Like she was taking something that didn't belong to her. Funny thing for a thief to mind... 

Still, she didn't mind sitting next to Mary-Margaret, David, and Regina. It was like a concentrated dose of not-alone that she could always use, especially with Hook being— 

Mary-Margaret rapped her dagger's hilt on the table. "This emergency session of the ruling council is called to order. We have received verified reports from the bluebirds that outsiders are at the town barrier, and they are employing some form of magic to both detect and penetrate our shielding." 

"Not a great reason to say 'penetrate'," Emma noted. 

Mary-Margaret shot her a look. "If anyone would like to make a serious remark?" 

Regina lifted her head. She'd had her hands flat on the table, her head down like she was half asleep. "They're probably friends of Emma's. After all, it's at least possible they're here to kiss Robin Hood, so who else but Emma would bring them here?" 

David was on Regina's other side. "You could stand to let that—are you drunk?" 

"I have a flask. I use it. What do you want from me? I think it's a bit late for me to qualify for sainthood." 

"You went out for one week!" Emma argued. "His wife, the mother of his child, came back to life! What did you expect? Some weird love triangle?" 

"I expected kisses! And foot rubs!" 

Mary-Margaret cut in. "Regina, please. We're all very sorry for Emma's mistake—" 

"Don't take her side!" Emma interjected. 

"Altering the timelineeeeeeee," Regina said, sing-song. 

"David, would you please get her to sober up?" 

"Sure." David stood, putting his hands on Regina's shoulder. "C'mon, your majesty. Let's see if we can find some hot coffee and cold water." 

Regina went limp. "Robin loved cold water!" she sobbed. 

David dragged her out of the room. 

"So!" Mary-Margaret said brightly. "About the outsiders. Do we have enough room at Granny's to house them all?" 

"Wait, we're doing the masquerade thing?" Emma asked. "We tried that with Greg, remember? Didn't go so well." 

"What do you recommend, Emma? Being bad hosts?" 

"Yeah. Once we've got Regina sobered up, we meet them at the edge of town and ask them what they want." 

Mary-Margaret looked concerned; a well-practiced look for her. "And you want Regina for this plan? She's..." 

"If we do need to, y'know, zap 'em, Regina should get to be in on that. It'll cheer her up." 

*** 

A smattering of Storybrooke's young and able had gathered where the outsiders were attempting to breach. Invisible due to the shielding, they had pulled up in pick-ups and cars, forming a barricade under Emma's direction. Now, armed with crossbows, guns, and assorted blades, they waited behind cover. 

"You're looking better." 

Regina was clad all in black, one of her lace and leather outfits that dated to the Enchanted Forest. Her eyes were clear and sharp, while her make-up—as always—was on point. She looked over Emma with customary dissatisfaction. 

"I know a spell to dispense with the effects of alcohol." 

"Could've used that in college." 

"Or last Friday, when it seemed Hook lost the use of his tongue and you were so generous in loaning him yours..." 

"I can't have flings? Only guys can have flings?" 

"You can have a fling, sure. I personally would prefer a fling who changes his clothes once in a while..." 

"Yeah, well, at least he doesn't have to worry about wearing white after Labor Day." 

The rest of Storybrooke was gathered inside the school auditorium like there was a hurricane bearing down on them, with Gold, Mother Superior, and Tink ready to use their magic as a last line of defense. Emma wasn't cruel enough to inflict Rumpelstiltskin on someone right off the bat. 

Mary-Margaret and David were there as well, watching Neal and Henry. Emma almost winced at the necessity of packing the town's children into a big metal box to protect them, but she remembered the last school shooting on the news. People had plenty to worry about on the outside as well. At least here, she could do something about the crazy shit in her life. 

Though she favored her pistol, Emma reached down to check the slide of the sheathed sword at her hip. She could and damn well would do something. 

On the other side of the dome, the outsiders were using magical objects—taking them out of sealed containers, trying them on the forcefield, then replacing them with a blast of neutralizing energy. The trunk of their car seemed to furnish an endless supply of magic. It seemed certain one would be able to get through. 

"At least they're cute," Ruby reasoned, looking over the sharp lines of the outsiders' suits—though one wore the punkish clothes of Emma's teen years. "Nice wheels, too." 

"Ruby, you wanna bitch up?" Emma asked. 

"Sure," Ruby said, hastily stripping. 

"That's a sensitive thing to call it," Regina said wryly. 

"What can I say? Kids these days. If they're not using the N-word... you thinking of lowering the shield deliberately?" 

"I don't like waiting," Regina confirmed, then was temporarily distracted by the sight of Ruby nude before the werewolf shifted forms. "We can always bring it back up—and I'll enjoy the looks on their faces." 

"Alright then. Do it." 

Regina gave Emma a smile that mixed hot and cold inside the blonde, then stepped out from behind the vehicles. "Uh, Reg?" Emma called, jerking her head in a silent request to take shelter. 

"Please," Regina replied, and brought the shield down. 

*** 

To Pete and Myka, it was as if a mob of people, five motor vehicles, and a distant town just appeared in front of them. Led by a woman who was going as Angelina Jolie in Maleficent for Halloween. 

"Who are you?" she demanded, an outstretched hand bursting into flames. "What do you want? And why shouldn't I kill right now?" 

Pete nodded. The usual welcome, then. "Let me do the talking," he said to Myka under his breath. 

"Yeah, you're good at it," she replied snidely. 

He rolled his eyes as he went to see about Bellatrix Lestrange. "Hi there. Pete Lattimer, big fan. Tall glass of water back there is Myka Bering, with her is heterosexual life partner Helena, and we've also got Jinks and Claudia back there, the girl is the one with the girl's name. We've also got Giselle somewhere around here—" 

"Hello old friends!" Giselle burst from the backseat of one car to reunite with the townspeople, who'd long ago assumed she'd been killed by someone and stopped worrying about her. 

Pete ignored her running by. "We're from the government and we're here to help." 

The woman lowered her hand, extinguishing it in the process. "Well, I don't see you posing much of a threat." 

"Hunh. That line has never worked for me before." Pete glanced at her smoldering hand. "Doesn't that hurt?" 

Myka was rushing up to join them, Helena trailing behind her protectively, ready to draw the Tesla she'd been loaned. "Agent Lattimer and I are with the Secret Service-" 

"You can call me Pete," he interjected. "Or Peter, the Petester, Pete-meister... hey, Mykes, think we should bother with the whole 'do you smell fudge?' stuff?" 

"Well, not now that you've said 'do we need to bother with having a cover,' I should think," said HG. 

"They had a forcefield. Her hand was on fire." He regarded Regina again. "That really didn't hurt?" 

Another woman, a blonde in a sporty red jacket and tight jeans that Myka would love to fit into—in a—fashion-y—way—of course. She was coming up to the group, holstering a sidearm. "Emma Swan. Sheriff. I'm guessing you're not here about taxes." 

"We don't pay them," the other woman said, as if daring them to contradict her. 

"Well, I know where I'm retiring," said Pete. 

"Regina Mills," Emma introduced. "She's sort of our mayor. " 

"Charmed." Helena reached out to take Regina's hand, which she had offered as a sarcastic gesture, and brought it suavely to her lips. 

"Okay," Pete said. "Yeah. She does that. Myka, you wanna tell 'em why we're here?" 

"Me?" 

"It was your idea." 

"You can't explain what we do?" 

"Honestly, I lost track around the time we went to a parallel universe. Now I just say 'snag bag and tag!" when I'm prompted. I had a public school education." 

"It doesn't show," Myka informed him. "Ms. Swan, Ms. Mills—" 

"Correct," Regina interrupted, her eyes fixed on Helena's. "We're not married—Emma especially so..." 

Emma's hands went to her hips. "We're gonna keep being here all day if people who aren't me keep trying to be funny. Bering, go ahead, no interruptions." She gave Regina a look that broadened to include Pete. 




Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date



Myka cleared her throat, feeling like she was about to give a book report. "We do work for the government—in affiliation with the government, I should say—for an organization that finds, retrieves, and stores Artifacts. For lack of a better word, they're magic—ordinary objects imbued with psychic power to cause... effects. Like a lucky charm that is really lucky. Unfortunately, they all have a downside, so we store them for the safety of the general public until they can be studied in a viable manner." She looked to HG, her spiel done, and Helena gave her a nod. 

There was a brief commotion in the mob of townspeople as Belle came to the fore, slinging her crossbow over his shoulder. "All magic has a price, is that what you're saying?" 

"Yes, pretty much." 

"And you have a way to neutralize magical items?" 

"Absolutely," Pete confirmed. 

Belle looked over their shoulders' to Giselle, who was sharing an impromptu dance with Kathryn. They went way back. "Giselle, is this true?" 

"My Helena used to work with them..." Giselle rushed over to take Helena's hand. "I trust her implicitly. She's my true love this month." 

"Emma?" Belle asked. 

"I haven't heard one lie from them." 

"Jinks?" Myka called. 

He perked up. "They're all telling the truth. Even her," he added, nodding to Regina. 

"People always seem so surprised," Regina mused bitterly. 

Belle seized their attention once more. "Then you all should come with me. There's something you need to take care of before anything else can happen to it." She turned to go, then saw they weren't following. "Unless we're all going to kill each other?" 

Regina snapped her fingers, summoning up a flint's worth of flame, before putting her hands in her pockets. "Rain check." 

Helena smirked at her. "You can make it hot any time you like." 

"Get a room," Myka muttered as she fetched her keys from her jacket pocket. 

*** 

They drove together in separate cars for the sake of their mutual suspicion. Emma and Regina rode with Helena and Myka, Emma driving, while Belle and Giselle rode with Jinks and Claudia, Pete driving and thanking God for the Prius's staggeringly roomy interior. Flanked by the mob's cars, they sped toward the pawn shop at a crawl, like everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

"You're really government agents?" Emma asked. "In charge of policing magical artifacts?" 

"You're really able to, what, read people's minds?" Myka shot back. 

"Tell when they're lying. Yeah, I know, I know, no one believes it—then they cheat on me, I ask them if they cheated on me, 'no, baby, no,' I throw them out in the middle of the night." 

"I believe you," Myka said. "About the... truth sense. Jinks can do something like that." 

"Oh yeah? Well, is he a fairy princess?" Emma challenged. 

"Uh—you're halfway there..." 

Emma laughed, embarrassed. "Gay. Don't get many of those around here." 

"Maine?" 

"Storybrooke. Don't ask me why..." 

"Must cut down on your dating prospects." 

Emma's eyebrows raised. "You'd be surprised. Anyway, we got some people here a couple months back. They claimed to be working for an organization that was taking on magic." 

"Claimed?" 

"They were actually working for Peter Pan." 

"Peter Pan? What, Neverland Peter Pan?" 

"Yeah." 

"Claimed—so, they thought they were working for the FBI or something?" 

"Something like that." 

"So, what, did Peter Pan stand on another kid's shoulders, dress up in a big coat, and invite them over for a job interview? What did he pay them in, Native American stereotypes?" 

"We try not to think about it too much. What about you? And that... guy?" 

"Pete? What about us?" 

"You're together?" 

Myka put her foot up on the dash, pushing on it like she wanted to kick through the engine block. "Sorta. It used to make a lot of sense—now it's starting to feel like a real bad idea." 

"Well, obviously. You two are practically different species. Whose genius idea was it for you two to start dating?" 

"Uh... a table suggested it." 

Emma blinked. "So you hate your life too, huh?" 

"Pretty much." 

In the backseat, Regina looked over at Helena. "Are they going to flirt like this the entire way?" 

"Sounds like. So, you're a sorceress?" 

"Yes. And you, a mad scientist?" 

"Please. Mad physicist." 

"Ah." Regina nodded. "Know any way to bring the dead back to life?" 

"No. Know any way to travel in time?" 

"Yes, but you wouldn't like it." 

"Of course not. Just thought I'd ask." 

"Understood." 

*** 

When they arrived at the pawn shop. Belle hurried to be first to the door, unlocking it and almost skipping inside. She jumped behind the counter, pausing there. When Pete and Myka entered, both their phones chirped. 

"My Appifact is going off the charts." Claudia had invented the process to convert iPhones into low-level Artifact detectors—she got to name it. "Is everything in this store...?" 

"Most of it is harmless," Belle assured Myka. "I know that's hard to believe, but things work differently where we're from. Maybe we're just better at managing this sort of thing." 

"Less reliance on technology, more open-mindedness?" Myka wondered. 

Belle shrugged. "Or the laws of physics are just subtly skewed over there. I'm not sure." 

Great, Pete thought. More geek love. He wondered if he was going to walk in on Belle having a threesome with Myka and HG, then filed that thought away for later. 

"Pete, stop thinking about me naked," Myka hissed under her breath. 

"Not like I'd even know—" 

"Whose fault is that?" 

"All the stuff that was too dangerous—really dangerous—was left in the Enchanted Forest." Belle saw the uncomprehending look on their faces. "Home sweet home. But there is one thing—one thing I've wanted to be rid of for a long time." She went to the vault, beginning the long, arcane process of unlocking it both physically and mystically. 

"Belle, stop that now." As so often was the case, Gold knew what everyone else was doing without due explanation, and he had made it to the store quickly and without the awareness of anyone else. He simply stepped out of the shadows, posing. 

Belle was immune to his knowing tone. "These people, Rumpel... they can destroy the Dagger. End the curse of the Dark One forever without you having to die. Imagine it—you would never again know the temptation of those evil powers..." 

A single bead of sweat decorated Gold's forehead. Only Regina saw it—no one saw her amused smile. "Now, let's not be too hasty, dear. My powers have been of great benefit..." 

"And greater harm!" Belle opened up the safe. Her eyes were hellish as they looked upon the dagger. "You can lead a normal life, Rumpel. With me. We can have children... grow old together... I can finally heal the darkness in you, just like I've always hoped to. And it starts with this dagger." She drew it out of the safe. 

Belatedly, Pete went for an Artifact bag. Myka already had hers out. "Just drop it in. That should shut it down." 

Belle was quick to walk it to them, Gold straining at his self-imposed leash like he wanted to dive in her way. 

"Belle, can't we talk about this?" Gold's lip was stretched between his teeth. "I mean, there should at least be some discussion—what if some new evil pops up and we need my power to fight it?" 

"Again? What're the odds? No, Rumpel—I swore that if I ever had the chance to free you from this curse, I would take it. And that's just what I'm going to do. Trust me—there'll come a time when you thank me." She held the dagger above the bag. "This may get loud. I doubt you've taken on anything like this before." 

"We can handle loud," Pete assured her, though he backed up several steps. 

Myka gave him a look, but stretched the arm she used to hold the bag at arm's length. "Go ahead, Belle. Drop it in." 

"Wait!" Pete cried, just as Belle's grip loosened. The dagger dangled above the bag precariously, Gold gasping next to it, his fingers knotting desperately, his eyes twitching as he tried to think. 

"What is it, Pete?" Myka demanded. 

"Yes," Gold echoed, "what is it, Pete?" 

"In case anything should happen, Belle... you were always my favorite Disney princess." 

Belle smiled. "Thank you, Agent Lattimer. Everyone else always says Ariel." She dropped the dagger in. 

Nothing happened. 

Then more nothing happened. 

Finally, in the next ten seconds, as everyone paused, a great quantity of nothing seemed to happen. 

Myka shook the bag a little, then realized she was doing that in front of Pete and hated herself. "This isn't an Artifact." 

"Ah, you see?" Gold cried. "Their technology doesn't work on our magic. Simply incompatible. We're lucky it didn't cause some sort of disastrous..." 

Belle picked up a small magic gemstone from the counter and dropped it in. A cherry bomb went off in the bag. "No, it works fine." She took it, and the blade, out. "So why wouldn't..." Belle eyed the dagger closely. "No." 

"No?" Gold echoed, restraining a nervous laugh. 

"You wouldn't—!" 

"I absolutely wouldn't." 

"You couldn't!" 

"Well, I could, but that doesn't mean—" 

"You did." 

Gold tugged at his collar. "You know, Belle—fights are a part of every couple's first year of marriage..." 

"Where's the dagger!? You tell me right now!" 

"Belle, please, it's for your own safety. I need its power. I can't lose you like I lost Bae." His eyes were big. They gleamed a little. "Please understand. I only want its power to protect you. You're the only thing that matters to me. Having people think the dagger is one place, having even you think that, is for your own protection. That's the only reason I would ever lie to you. For your own good." 

"He killed Zelena," Regina said casually, running a filing iron over her fingertips. 

Belle took a step backwards. "What." 

"Someone clearly used magic to alter the prison's recording. I didn't do it... who else had the motive and opportunity to do it? Tinkerbell?" 

"We shouldn't rule anything out," Gold said in consideration. 

Belle slapped him. "You asshole!" 

"I am not a—" She slapped him again. "Stop that—" She slapped him again. "You have to under—" She slapped him again. "If you don't stop—" She slapped him again. "I will not tolerate—" She slapped him again. "I cannot talk to you when you get like this!" 

In a puff of colored smoke, he was gone. Belle slapped the cloud for good measure. 

Pete raised a finger. "Not to be insensitive, but—now what?" 

Regina took the stage. "If I know Rumpel, he'll spend a few hours flirting with being the Dark One again—scales, leather, calling people 'dearie' a lot. Then he'll run back to win Belle over. They'll fight, they'll make up, and maybe, when all is said and done, he'll give up the real dagger. I suggest you pull up a chair and settle in for a long wait. Granny's should have started pulling out pies for the lunch rush by now." 

"Ooh, pies!" 

While Myka corralled Pete, Emma took Regina by the arm and pulled her deeper into the store. "What are you playing at?" 

"Why Ms. Swan, whatever do you mean?" 

"Don't play dumb with me." 

"I would never play dumb with you. You have too much experience, you'd beat me with ease." 

"You set that up," Emma said, pointing her finger, thinking j'accuse! "You wanted Mr. Gold to run off and leave these people in the lurch. Why?" 

"Perhaps I simply enjoy having some company that isn't united in hatred and suspicion of me. Besides, you have to admit, it seemed like the appropriate time to drop that little bombshell. Did you see Belle come at him?" 

Emma couldn't quite hide a grin. "I thought she was going to knock him on his ass." 

Regina looked down at Emma's hand, still on her arm. She smoothly dissuaded it. "If you'll excuse me—" 

"No." Emma said it as Regina tried to move past her, her arm reaching out to block Regina's path. "Just so you know... I'm not united in hatred or suspicion with anyone." 

Regina's eyes grew soft, considering. She leaned over to Emma's ear. "Very true... but you don't have a British accent." 

Smoothly side-stepping Emma, she drew up to Helena with all the swagger her power and confidence gave her. "Care for a drink while you wait?" 

*** 

In short order, everyone had dispersed to their various ends of the Earth. Pete stayed with Belle in the pawn shop, partly to snag/bag/tag some of the more dangerous Artifacts, but mostly to comfort her. 

"I can't believe it!" she was ranting, looking through the display case for something to hand off. "I thought he'd changed! I married him! I'm his wife! The future mother of his children! And he just lies to me! Right to my face! Not even about porn—I could understand that! About murdering people and... and daggers!" 

"Men are pigs," Pete agreed. 

"Yes, thank you." Belle realized she'd started crying and hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes. "And thanks for listening to me rave. I know you probably have better things to do than listen to some silly librarian go on and on about her relationship. Here. The Horned King's Cauldron. You're probably want to get rid of this." 

"What's it do?" Pete asked, taking the pot from her. It didn't look any more dangerous than most dishware. 

"Raises an army of the dead to wage war on the living." 

"Yeah." Pete set it aside gently. "Yeah, I can see how we'd want to keep an eye on that." 

"You know what's really awful?" Belle asked. "Normal couples, they at least have fights. I just keep giving lectures, because it's always him. I don't do anything wrong, it's all him. If I did something wrong, at least I could feel a little conflicted, because we'd both have flaws, but it's always him. He's always lying! I've never lied! I've never broken a promise! Is it just harder for him than it is for me?" 

"Maybe it's easier for a good person to stay good than for a bad person to change," Pete said, his eyes drifting upward in thought. 

"You're right. You're so right." Belle reached out to take his hand. "I wish more men were like you. So sensitive... so thoughtful." 

"I'm not really that thoughtful." 

"So modest!" Belle cried, squeezing his hand. "I just wish I had a way to get back at him." 

"Get back at him?" 

"Some promise I made to him that I could break. But all I've ever promised him is to stay with him, and I can't not do that—I love him." 

"Well, actually—" 

"Of course, I did promise to remain faithful to him—forsaking all others—but I can't very well break that vow, can I? Just cheat on him?" 

"Actually, I think..." 

Belle took a step towards him. Pete took a step back. 

"Am I really your favorite Disney princess?" 

Pete laughed nervously, taking another step back as Belle advanced on him. "Yeah, Belle... of course you are." 

"Because Ariel... she wears that teeny-tiny little bra. You can see her dinners all the time." 

"Her dinners?" 

"She has great breasts, don't you think? I met her. They really are something. 

Pete backed into the wall. "I'm sure they are!" 

"I mean, look at mine." Belle undid her blouse. "Nothing to write home about, are they?" 

"I wouldn't say that..." 

"You're right... more than a handful is a waste. Isn't that what they say?" 

"Yes—I mean, that is what they say." 

"And they are, you know." 

"Are?" 

"A handful. Here. Feel." 

"I should, uh, err..." 

"Your hands are so soft..." 

"So are your, uh—" 

"Just about a handful—wouldn't you say?" 

"Yup. That's a ten-four, good buddy." 

"But I bet they're too big to fit in your mouth." 

Pete really had to take that wager. 

As it turned out, a lot of things could fit into a lot of things. 

*** 

Regina's drawing room was vast and spartan, dominated by a massive fireplace that shed its bonfire light like a cloud of perfume. A pair of wing-backed chairs set it off, a little chessboard table between them, the pieces stored in a drawer underneath. Helena regarded the interplay of black and white in the firelight until Regina was upon her again. 

"Behold," Regina said, bearing a silver tray. "My famous apple cider." 

Helena smiled back at her as Regina served them. "May I assume this is a seduction?" 

Regina sat down across from her. "You can assume a great deal—without ever finding out if your assumptions are accurate." 

Helena took her glass, but toyed with the amber liquid inside rather than drinking it—tilting the cup this way and that. "I sense a certain... élan... when it comes to our shared morality. Boldness becomes us. Polite conversation does not." 

"How true. So, in the interests of interesting conversation, shall we trade mortal sins?" 

Helena smiled evenly at her. "What makes you think I have one?" 

"Your colleagues. They want to trust you, but they don't. They tip-toe around you. They didn't even do that around me." Regina sipped lightly. "All but that woman, Myka, which I assume we'll come to." 

"Is there alcohol in this drink?" 

"Most assuredly." 

"Then I think we will." Helena smiled. It wasn't as hollow as usual. "I take it you speak from experience when it comes to... tip-toeing?" 

"Yes." 

"Except for the blonde." 

Regina rolled her eyes. "Too stupid not to trust me." 

Helena was equally dismayed. "Oh, Regina, I thought we were too alike for lies." 

"Never. Now, seeing as you are a guest in my house, would you like to go first? Why is it you let them think they're better than you?" 

Helena set her glass down. Spun it lazily. "A long time ago, I had a daughter. You have a son. You know there's a uniqueness to the love between parent and child—the love you can only have for yourself coupled with the love you can only have for another, because you can see yourself in them. You can... she died." Helena took up the glass and drained it. "I took it as well as you'd expect." 

The thought of losing Henry was no more bearable for Regina now than it ever was. "I'd kill families." 

Helena shrugged. "They were mostly orphans, though. Afterward, my only comfort was thinking of a better world. I traveled the decades in a ship of bronze and time, until I was woken in this day and age." 

Regina nodded. "I've traveled similarly." 

"Then you've noticed a certain lack of 'better'." 

"Yes." Regina sipped. "The internet is nice, though." 

Helena's head rolled to the side. "What do you do to a wounded animal when you can't make it better?" 

Helena was speaking Regina's language too well for the Queen not to take her meaning. "Oh, Helena. The whole world?" 

"At least I can't be accused of lacking ambition. I lost my soul, Regina. What would you have done?" 

"A world like that... I wouldn't have given it something as merciful as death. Which I suppose is my problem. Always trying to win the game instead of end it. Refill?" 

"Yes, please." 

Regina tipped the carafe to both their glasses. There came a scratching at the terrace door. Regina got up, excusing herself politely, and went to it. Through the glass panes that looked into her backyard, she saw a large black canine pelting the door with its paws. 

"Go away, Ruby. I don't have time to play with you right now. I'm entertaining a guest." 

Giving a moan, the dog swiped at the glass harder. 

"I'm not letting you in! Go away or I'm getting the hose." 

Ruby gave a bark, turned with a swish of her tail, and ran off. 

"Friend of yours?" Helena asked as Regina returned. 

"Something of a stray. The bitch is in heat, poor dear. If I let her in, she'd be humping your leg in under a minute." 

"We wouldn't want that." 

"No. I want you all to myself." Regina smiled and straightened her suit. She was a patient seductress. She enjoyed knowing the game was in the bag, as evidenced by the subtle smirk Helena returned to her, but felt no need to rush an enjoyable conversation to get to the unknown quantity of their sex. She savored her impending victory. "Where was I?" 




Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date



"Your mortal sin." 

"Oh, yes. When I was very young, I was in love." 

"Ha!" Helena cried, followed by: "Sorry." 

"No, no—you have to understand, in my world, such things weren't so... laughable. He was my soulmate. He died because of Snow White. I vowed revenge." 

Helena's eyebrow peaked. "Seems you're the good guy in all this." 

"Did I mention Snow was, oh—nine?" 

"Ah. Went a little mad, did we? I'm not judging." 

"Yes. It's comfortable, isn't it? Being mad." 

Helena was noncommittal. "Grows tiresome," was all she would say on the subject. 

"I take it you've been a crusader for good of sorts?" Helena nodded. "Then you know how hard it is for evil to catch a break. She got a husband, friends, my kingdom—she had it all. So I cast a spell that would teleport all of them here, where I was their beloved ruler and they all suffered hellish, ironic fates, living false lives as ordinary earthbound citizens." 

Helena's head tilted. "Ingenious." 

"Thank you." 

"And they think it was your choice? To do all that?" 

Regina was confused now. "I made it gladly." 

"One thing I've learned. There are times when my madness makes the choices for me. At other times, it is simply a matter of controlling my madness." 

"I hadn't thought of it that way. Intriguing proposition. Somewhat self-serving." 

"Who else is going to serve us? Who else is going to forgive us but ourselves?" 

Holding her glass by the lip, Regina tapped her middle finger on the rim. "That brunette, what was her name? Myka? She didn't seem as... confident... in her fear of you. In fact, when she looked at you—when she didn't restrain herself from doing so—her gaze was rather warm." 

"Ancient history," Helena said dismissively. 

"History I'd very much like to revisit, if I were in your shoes." 

"You're not so bereft of attention to envy me." Helena leaned forward. "Emma Swan. I recall her name quite clearly." 

"The dear thing despises me, and rightly so." 

"Please. I could taste the fondness coming off her. She fancies you." 

Regina's face became a sneer. "Says the woman who insists Myka Bering has washed her hands of her." 

"She could never forgive me—she has someone else—" 

"True love has a way of cutting through entanglements. Annoyingly so." 

"Really? Then when Emma breaks down the door to ravish you on the floor, shall I go or stay and watch?" 

"I've lived too long to believe that happening as even a once in a lifetime thing." 

"This sounds like the beginning of a wager." 

Regina leaned back in her chair. "You remind me of an old friend. She turned into a dragon and I had her killed, but before that, we were quite close. Very well. The bet?" 

"You have nothing I want." 

"You have nothing I want. So, simply the sport and satisfaction of being right." 

Helena clasped her hands together. "Thank the Lord for our egos. Otherwise—what unsatisfying stakes." 

"The terms?" 

"Our respective paramours. We visit them and engage with them. If your Emma responds, I win. If my Myka responds, you win." 

"Betting on whether beautiful maidens have feelings for us. How despicable." 

"Positively devilish. Cheers." 

They toasted, their glasses making a small clink together in the quiet night. 

*** 

Pete stood in the back alley of the diner, by an old abandoned couch and a broken-down motorcycle, nursing a candy cigarette. Recently he found out they still made those, you just had to order them online. He'd gotten about a thousand in the mail and fit parcels of them into an antique cigarette case for trips. He looked so cool. Soon, he'd go inside for some pie, once the afterglow had faded. He knew how good smalltown people were at knowing when you'd got some. 

That's when he noticed the big wolf prowling toward him. He'd seen it at the blockade and assumed it was just a police dog. Now he realized how big it was. It was—really big. Like a dog-horse for normal dogs to ride. 

"Easy..." Pete said, raising his hands slowly. "Nice doggie... nice... nice..." 

He was just about to go for his Tesla when the wolf started barking. Pete froze, deciding paralysis was the better part of valor. 

"Yes, yes, I agree completely," he babbled. 

The wolf stopped abruptly, growling almost self-deprecatingly, then it was gone. In its place was a girl. A girl not wearing clothes. A girl Pete really appreciated not wearing clothes. 

"I said," she said, "if you're up to something or if you hurt Belle in any way, I am going to eat you! I don't have a taste for human flesh, but it doesn't taste as bad as all that!" 

Pete gently folded his arms, a hand propping under his chin, automatically becoming a British gentleman as one did when very confused. "We're really just here to help, naked werewolf lady girl." 

"The name's Ruby," Ruby said, folding her arms across her chest, hiding her breasts, which provoked a small moan of dismay from Pete—something like a dog whining for a treat. "You're lucky Giselle vouched for you. That's all I'm saying. And don't even think of dissecting me!" 

"Hey, hey now, I like your skin just fine the way it is!" 

Ruby looked down at her own naked form as if just remembering she'd transformed sans cloak. Seeing that her legs were acceptably shaved, she looked back up. "You just watch it!" 

"No problem there, Rubes. But hey, I'd hate to make you feel underdressed, so—" Pete took his shirt off. He was pretty good at it. Even Myka thought so. He still had pretty good moves from the Chippendale's thing in college. 

Ruby looked him over, lowering her crossed arms a little, not caring if he could now once again see the color of her nipples. "Not bad." 

Pete was also a master of flexing without looking like he was flexing. "Yeah, no one appreciates how hard it is to get in a good core work-out on a government salary." 

"Not your pecs. Think lower." 

Pete looked lower. "Oh, sorry. I have a thing for werewolves. I'm Team Jacob all the way." 

"You're still overdressed, though." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. I'll help with that." 

The next thing Pete knew, cloth was ripping. "UMMMM—" 

"Don't get the wrong idea. You're not that charming. It's just that I'm in heat and everyone else in this town I'll have to face for the rest of my life. But you're going to move on in the morning like a traveling salesman, aren't you?" 

"If not sooner!" 

"And don't take this the wrong way, but you smell really good. Really sexy. Almost like—" Ruby cocked her head suddenly to the side. "Do you read a lot?" 

"Yes. Yes, I do." 

He wasn't lying. She hadn't specified books, after all. 

*** 

No matter how cozy the room Granny had put her up in was, Myka couldn't get comfortable. Times like these, settling into a new place, she always thought of Leena and the B&B. Leena had just had this way of putting you at ease. It wasn't anything she did, it was just—without her, a place was just a glorified Motel 6. 

Sighing, Myka took out a Dictaphone. The room was generously furnished with an antique writing desk, and she did enjoy perching her laptop on it as she filled out reports on the Artifacts they'd collected. She played Belle's description of a particular colander as she translated it into Artie-ese for the report. 

Her phone soon rang, though a look at the clock told her it was fifty minutes later and she'd completed reports on a dozen Artifacts. Time sure flies, she thought to herself as she picked up. 

"Myka!" Pete said. "It's Pete. Mykes, this town is full of nymphomaniacs! The hot kind! I'm calling our relationship on account of suddenly having game, which you knew could happen. You've gotta get in on this! I've seen more naked cartoon characters in the last two hours than I have on Reddit. On Reddit, Myka!" 

"You can't break up with me! I already broke up with you!" Myka replied, just as there was a knock at the door. "Hold on, I've got a call on the—real life." 

"Yeah, I gotta go, I think Rapunzel is into me." He hung up. 

"Slut!" Myka tucked her phone away and went to the door. 

After she opened it, she just stood there, gawking for a second. Helena was beautiful, of course—possibly the most elegant, exquisite woman Myka had ever met—but Myka was at least used to her. Regina was just—Myka looked up and down, eyes hovering at the deep cleavage exposed by a lethal combination of open blazer and low-cut wrap top, her coat off and draped on one arm. Her sight was only drawn away by Regina's long, luscious legs, trimmed in nearly skintight linen, standing slightly parted in a pose that was all the more alluring for how it wasn't trying to be. She projected sheer power and it was beautiful. 

Myka herself had taken off her suit jacket, leaving her in a purple blouse and slacks—too professional to be flattering, but they did nothing to detract from her looks. HG wore a tight cotton top that laced between her breasts too tightly to leave doubt about the existence of her bra. Her pants similarly white and just tight enough to be immodest without being crude. If she turned around, Myka imagined the view would be spectacular. 

"You must be Myka," Regina said, stepping forward to put an arm around Myka's shoulders. "And what an exquisite creature you are. May I use your washroom? Helena has something she'd like to say to you, privately." 

"Yeah. Sure." 

Regina disappeared into the recesses of the apartment, Myka unable to resist watching her go. She wondered if that wiggle was deliberate or if it just—happened. 

She refocused on Helena. "Tell me you two aren't—" 

"No, no, we just had a few drinks. Nothing happened." 

"Good," Myka said, then wished she could take it back. How was it good or bad if Helena did or didn't have relations with Regina? She didn't care. Helena could go back to Nate, for all she cared. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to avoid sounding aggressive, coming off weary instead. 

Helena seemed fixed on the spot, trapped like a deer in headlights, but she forced herself inside the room, closing the door behind her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then was quick to sit down. Settled, rooted in place, she was finally able to respond. "I've been thinking." 

"You're good at that." 

"Thanks. This town—these people—they're all stories." 

"Helena, it's late. I have work." 

"No, listen—everyone around us, they all have these stories told about them. Not just one a piece, either! Some have dozens, hundreds of stories growing from them. It's extraordinary, isn't it? To meet a living story." 

"Yes. I suppose it is." Myka gave in to the connection between them, at least a little, sitting down across from Helena on a wicker chair. "But I've met one before." 

Helena grinned bashfully. "Perhaps these might live up to expectations." 

"You never let down my expectations. Dr. Moreau, the Invisible Man, Cavor—you're all of them rolled into one." 

"I should've written more heroes, then." 

"You're not a book, HG. You can't be a 'scientific romance' all the time." 

"I can try. I should've tried." She looked at Myka—looked at her, seeing magnificence, divinity, passion. "It's not my story. Not anymore. It's ours. And this ending, us drifting away, us becoming pals or best buds—" She spat the terms with derision. "It won't do. We are an epic, Myka. Lives lost, souls fought for, speeches given and music played. We don't just come to a stop like some anecdote. We go on. We put Beowulf and Gilgamesh to shame with our adventures. We die clutching a dragon's heart." 

Myka was not unaffected. How could she be? She'd dreamed of this—Helena professing her love, finally, unequivocally. Not some warm gesture or risqué one-liner, but actually saying how she felt. What she needed. 

But it'd been a long time. And she wasn't quite that person anymore. Maybe she never had been. "What if I want easy?" 

"Pete was easy. Did that satisfy you? Just—letting 'love' happen? I'm not saying you won't have to fight for me, Myka. I'm saying I'll fight for you just as hard." 

"I'm tired of being in a fight, Helena." 

"Then you should stop being worth fighting for." 

"Oh my God, this is like watching a Mexican soap opera. No, worse. Like watching The L Word." 

Regina stepped out of the bathroom. Stark naked. She wore nothing but a thong. She didn't want them to think she was too immodest, after all. 

Myka gaped. Regina's body was insanity. She'd seen Helena naked and still, she was floored. It just seemed impossible that someone could come that close to perfection. Close, hell... Myka couldn't find a single flaw on her. She didn't think even Perez Hilton could. Beside her, she heard Helena give a soft gurgle. Nice to know they were in agreement. 

"Helena, let me do you a small favor, one villain to another. Myka, if you're naked in the next thirty seconds, I'll have sex with you. Both of you. Thirty-one seconds, offer's off the table. Am I clear? Good. The clock has started—tick-tock." 

Helena, a certified genius, rose both eyebrows. She looked over Regina. She saw the look of sudden, shocked desire in Myka's eyes. She pondered the scenario, calculated the possible outcomes, and almost instantaneously decided that, as was so often the case, the wisest course of action was the one that resulted in the most physical pleasure for her. 

She began to undress, slowly drawing the laces of her shirt from their eyelets. "Well, I can't rightly expect a better offer than that." 

Myka, shocked into inaction, was shocked once more into taking offense. "You can't be serious!" 

Helena took off her shirt. Her nipples had been prominent enough through the thin material; now it was impossible for Myka to look at anything else. "I never make a joke of sex. Men do that often enough." 

"I am not going to have a threesome with my ex-girlfriend and a virtual stranger just because she looks good naked!" 

Regina was affronted. "I look great naked. Twenty seconds." 

Helena peeled off her trousers, her long ivory legs bared all the way up to a pair of silk panties. Now Myka couldn't take her eyes off those. "When you look back on your life, what story is there in not having a threesome with Regina Mills?" 

"I don't even know her!" 

"You don't," Helena agreed. 

"She's evil! Kinda!" 

Regina inclined her head in agreement. "Ten seconds." 

"And you and me, we have to build trust and work on our communication and decide what we want out of a relationship—" 

"Five seconds," Regina said, idly picking up her coat. 

"—we haven't even decided if we want a dog—oh, hell..." Myka threw herself into a kiss with Helena, who eagerly reciprocated until it was too much for even her and they fell to the bed. Regina rolled her eyes at the sudden obliviousness to her—she thought she'd never stop being annoyed by true love—but when she climbed next to Myka opposite Helena, she was welcomed eagerly enough. 

Helena unbuttoned Myka's shirt as they kissed, while Regina briefly kissed her neck before moving down to tug off Myka's slacks, leaving her thighs spread for her to lie between. She left her panties on, running a finger over their crotch, enjoying the electric feel of Myka's warmth through the dampening fabric. Myka squealed lightly into Helena's mouth. 

Regina folded Myka's panties down, just low enough to give her cunt a taste of the air conditioner's cool stream, and then she pressed her mouth to the pungent beginnings of wetness. Myka was left gasping, unable to continue her passionate liplock with Helena. 

"Now that is a delectable specimen," Regina mused, eying Helena more than Myka. "And you mean to tell me that it's gone months without being tasted by another woman? What a waste..." She slid her hand under Myka's ass and began to free her panties. 

"I've never done anything like this before!" Myka gasped as Helena sought to devour her pulse right from her neck. "Helena and I—we knew each other for a long time before we had sex! We went on several dates! I was really sort of a prude-!" 

"Yes, yes—" Regina worked Myka's panties down long, slender thighs. "You're a very good girl. All the better for us to corrupt..." 

She held out the soaked panties to Regina, who obligingly savored their scent like a wine connoisseur being served a fresh glass. "I think that's gotten even better since the last time..." 

"Would you care to-?" Regina asked, running her hands up Myka's bare legs, up to her bare groin. 

"No, I insist. You've never had a go, after all." 

"Just as long as someone fucking—AH!!" 

Myka cried out as Regina's hands finally made their way to her crotch, parting her labia and then being followed by her face—buried in Myka's sex. Her eyes fluttered closed as Helena lovingly opened her undone shirt, equally lovingly undid her bra, and then very lovingly bit down on a large, hard nipple. 

"Ooooooo-!" Myka forced her eyes open. She stared at Helena like she was seeing the center of the universe. "No, no—you—come up here!" 

Helena took her meaning. As fun as it was to inflict pleasure of Myka, it was equally enjoyable to receive it. She crawled supplely over Myka's body, drawing her flesh over Myka's, tantalizingly slow as she finally brought herself up to dangled her breasts over Myka's face. Myka was quick to close her lips around an offered nipple; her hand were even faster as they went to stroke Helena's face and hair. And all the while, Regina was busily eating Myka's pussy, bent over the bed so Emma Swan could see only the bare cheeks of her ass, the string of her tiny thong pulled tight between them. 

*** 

Emma had only gone to the bed and breakfast to get a feel for Myka Bering. She'd had no idea two other women had such similar ideas. 

She'd been prepared for a slow evening of getting to know the new arrival, probing her, maybe having some feminine bonding—stop that, she thought to herself. When she'd heard the strange noises inside, she'd been quick to act... but she'd cautioned herself against acting rashly. That had backfired often enough in her dealings with Regina. Instead, she would be smart. Hook had confided to her that the place's old-fashioned locks actually let you look inside the rooms if the guest didn't flip down the covers, something few modern people thought to do. 

God, Regina was right, what had she ever seen in Hook? Even for a quick orgasm with another person, there was no call to embarrass herself. She was a princess. Grace Kelly was a princess, did you ever see her in a movie sucking face with someone who smelled like he had a part-time job as a barroom's carpet? 

So she'd knelt in front of the door, put her eye to the lock—yes, very dignified behavior for a princess, and seen— 

Well, she wasn't sure what she saw. It looked like three incredibly attractive women, two of them out-of-towners, all naked, having sex with each other. 

But Emma couldn't be sure. She'd better keep watching, just to be certain. If she couldn't make out what they were doing in, oh, half an hour, she'd leave. 

*** 

A wild moan ripped its way out of Myka from deep inside, finally burying itself in Helena's breast. Helena held her lover tight to her chest, stroking her hair with all its lovely, decadent curls. They all knew she was close. 

"That's it, darling," she hummed. "Come for us—let us see you ignite." 

"Then give me your fingers." Myka was moaning more than she was speaking. "Nothing makes me come like those long, perfect—" She broke off to suck Helena's thumb into her mouth, only relinquishing it slowly from between her lips. 

Helena reached down, got a firm grip on Regina's hair, and simply yanked her off of Myka. Then she turned the two of them so they were lying on their sides, locked in another kiss, making Myka feel the heat of her sex alone before she delved into it with her cool, salving fingers. 




Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date



Myka's lips opened in a silent scream. Helena traced them with her tongue. Regina came up to kiss both of them, Frenching them both, comparing their tastes. The moment she was done, the two agents went back to each other, leaving Regina in the lurch. 

Regina could put up with a lot of suffering, but being ignored was too much for her. She sardonically kissed Myka on the cheek before whispering. "If I can't have your pussy, I'll have something else." Punctuated with her fingers digging in to Myka's toned ass. 

Helena raised her head, eying Regina dangerously—ready to bare her teeth if anything the queen said or did displeased Myka—but Myka just shifted to the side a few inches to look back at Regina. "It's all yours," she said simply. 

Regina moved down Myka's strong back, kissing every vertebra in her spine before settling between the succulent curves of her ass. Myka groaned in anticipation as she realized Regina was actually going to do it. 

Regina watched Helena's forearm clench, supple muscles stirring the surface of her creamy skin as her hand was buried between Myka's thighs. It was almost as good viewing material as Myka's apple-ass, splayed in front of her like the promised land. She'd always had a thing for a nice ass. Maybe it was just that anyone else's breasts would be a disappointment compared to her own perfect pair. Even the most mouth-watering display of cleavage fell short if she were only to look down. But an ass... well, hers was stellar, but she only saw it when she looked in the mirror, so Regina could at least fool herself that someone else's was worth touching. 

Besides, spanking herself was no damn fun at all. 

She ran a finger lazily over Helena's clenched arm as she lightly kissed Myka's ass, a few on one cheek, a few on the other, followed by a series of short licks that skirted the deep inner curve. She was quite sure Myka's lightness of breath owed to her. She climbed over Myka's body and kissed Helena's arm, enjoying the scintillated look Helena tossed her. Then she went back down, parted Myka's ass, and let her tongue snake out right between Myka's plump cheeks. 

*** 

Oh fuck, Emma thought. She still couldn't make out who the third person was—it couldn't be that skinny little co-ed they'd brought with them, could it? It had to be someone from town. And there was only one thing she could be doing, her head drawing a slow path over Myka's ass. Normally, Emma would think Ruby, but God knew that girl wore skimpy enough clothes that Emma would be able to recognize her naked body. No, this was someone else. 

Someone Emma would have to find out about before she left. Anyone who got this freaky was someone she wanted to know. 

Now she watched as the Englishwoman dropped down Myka's body, her hand pumping until the last possible second, only to be replaced by her tongue. And now her hand—it was gleaming, it was so wet—traced over the mystery guest's body. 

Belle, maybe? 

*** 

"Yes! Yes!" Myka didn't know where to put her hands. Regina was rimming her—she wanted to hold Regina in place, keep her from getting away, but Helena was licking her pussy, so she wanted to stroke that luscious hair as she looked down at it from possibly the greatest angle in existence—seeing it held between her open thighs. "Oh fuck!" 

As she came, she ended up grabbing her own breasts. She thrust her hips back and forth, trying to drive herself into both her twin pleasures—Regina's tongue in her ass and Helena's mouth on her cunt. 

She finished contorted in delight, spread all across the bed. Helena gave her thigh a quick kiss before going up to give Myka's lips a longer one. They pulled to each other like two magnets. Regina watched their embrace almost enviously before clapping a hand on Helena's ass. "You're next," she said, before rising to go to the kitchen. She needed to gargle something. 

And as she crossed to the sinks, she glanced toward the door, wondering if she'd remembered to lock it. And so, quite unknowingly, her eyes locked with those of Sheriff Emma Swan. 

*** 

Emma's foray into impulse control came to a quick end. Perhaps if the door had been locked, she would've thought better of her actions in the second or two it took to shake the handle, and would've run for it. But since the door swung open freely, she charged into the room without a second thought. 

"You asshole!" she cried, a finger stabbed at Regina. 

Regina, still quite naked, raised a hand to her quite naked breast in the international gesture of moi? 

"You give me all this shit about Robin Hood breaking up with you and what the fuck are you doing? You're having a threesome! With, like, the two hottest women ever!" 

"Who's she?" Myka asked Helena, sotto voce. 

Helena raised an eyebrow. "Someone with good taste. Most especially in jeans," she concluded, eying Emma's ass. 

"I've created a monster," Myka said. 

"And!" Emma continued. "You're a lesbian! Since when are you a lesbian!? Do you know how many times I've thought, gee, I wish Regina was a lesbian, only I guess you were into girls this whole time!" 

"I don't see how my bisexuality is any business of the sheriff's office," Regina said. When shocked, she tended to become bureaucratic. "Unless, of course, you're interested for personal reasons..." 

"Oh! Oh! You wanna go there? You wanna go to the Emma-has-a-crush-on-Regina place! What an asshole thing to do!" 

Regina spread her arms, which made her breasts do an interesting bounce that was noted by all present. "I am the Evil Queen." 

"Yes! The Evil Queen! Not the Asshole Queen!" 

"She seemed to do pretty well with Myka's," Regina said helpfully. 

Emma jabbed a finger at her. "I don't want any lip from you!" 

"Just tongue," Regina said. 

"You do not get to make gay jokes about me! I was, like, the butchest person ever! I did everything short of chopping down a tree to get you to notice me!" 

"You had two boyfriends!" Regina protested. 

"We have a son!" 

"This is why lesbians don't have threesome," Myka thought aloud. "Three times the drama." 

"Do not even act like this is my fault!" Emma persisted. "I flirted up a storm! I answered the door in my underwear! How much more obvious could I have made it?" 

Helena pointed at Regina. "She got naked and asked us if we wanted to have a threesome." 

Emma clapped her hands to her face and pulled them slowly downward. "Do you have any idea how many people I would've threesome'd with you? I was only interested in Graham because I thought we could share him! Hell, back before the Curse broke, I would've double-teamed my mom with you, and don't think that won't come up in therapy!" 

"What do you want me to do? Apologize for not having sex with you? Just because we're both queer as hell, extremely physically attractive, have incredible chemistry, and probably have a compatible sexual dynamic?" 

"I'm a bottom!" Emma said. 

"Regina loves bottoms," Helena pointed out. 

"I'm okay with butt stuff too!" Emma stressed. "But no! No! You blew it! With your boyfriends, and your occasional attempts to destroy the town, and your weird obsession with my mom that is taking on an entirely new dimension now that I'm realizing you're this gay!" She gestured at Myka and Helena. 

"First of all," Regina said, "I don't think it's really that gay to have sex with those two. I mean, look at them. Angie Harmon would have sex with them." 

"Not sure what that proves," Myka said evenly. 

"Second, you're the one who wanted to have sex with your mom." 

"I didn't know she was my mother at the time!" 

"Well, you two have the exact same jaw, so I guess you're just a narcissist." 

"Says the woman who's still naked!" 

"Girls, girls, please." Helena stood. "If we can all take a deep breath, I do believe the four of us can solve this problem. In the next thirty seconds, in fact. Don't you agree, Myka?" 

Myka eyed Emma. And Emma's arms. "Oh yeah. Thirty seconds. Tops." 

*** 

Emma didn't notice HG leaving at first. In her defense, Myka was very interesting... company. As was Regina, of course. When she left, pulled away by Helena, Emma pulled bolt upright from the bed. "Should we be worried?" 

Myka was quick to make up for the lost hands. "Have you met them?" She began a program of kissing Emma's neck and shoulders. "They're probably going off to be sarcastic, brood about a few things, talk about how wicked they are, then they'll come back with some sex toys like they're the height of decadence." 

"Should I be worried? For a cop, I'm surprisingly uncomfortable with handcuffs." 

"Knowing HG, I'm thinking just strap-ons. What are your thoughts on double penetration?" 

*** 

Regina plucked at the odd assortment of straps around her hips, prodded the somewhat obscene silicone plug emanating from her groin. It bobbled... interestingly. "So you say these are quite common?" 

"You can buy them at practically every street corner," Helena confirmed—one of the rare things she'd been delighted to learn about the 21st century. "Aces, no?" 

"I've been in this world nearly thirty years and I've never heard of them." 

"You should visit more interesting websites, then." 

*** 

Myka felt like applauding when Helena and Regina came back, wearing their dildos like royal accoutrements, but she was a touch busy lubing Emma up. Emma was enjoying the process. She lifted her head, saw the two strap-ons pointed at her, and grew quickly used to the idea. Not too used to it not to gripe, though. "Really? Why does everyone always assume I'm into DP?" 

"DP?" Regina asked, and HG whispered in her ear. "You people are such perverts." 

"Yeah?" Emma challenged. "Where were you planning to stick that thing?" 

"You're a thief, Ms. Swan. Surely, you prefer the backdoor?" Regina's words were entirely offset by her charming smile, though it was a near thing. 

Emma turned to Helena. "Which I guess means you..." 

"Yes, darling. I hope to make things as pleasant as possible for you. I myself have been exactly where you're sitting, when this Artifact caused there to be two Mykas and we..." 

"It's Storybrooke, not story time," Myka interrupted, and Regina gave her a dirty look as, fed up, she went to Emma and brusquely took her head in her hands. Emma looked up into Regina's eyes, suddenly flushed with desire. When Regina urged her head downward, her lips parted automatically. 

Myka watched Emma lick the head of Regina's strap-on, then close her lips around its collar, then suck it down into her mouth. "I guess we're having sex then." 

Helena stroked her arm. "Would you care to sit on her face? Hopefully, she won't be too far gone to return some of the favors she's being done." 

"I think I'll sit this one out," Myka said. "I'm still working out how to sit down after the last round." 

HG sighed. "I understand. Sometimes it's fun to watch. I'll try to put on a good show." 

Her hand in Emma's hair, Helena forced the blonde off his glistening dildo. Emma looked up at her panting with need, and Regina savored their eye contact before flipping Emma over, forcing her down to the bed. The queen moved behind her, trapping Emma in her arms and legs, the head of the dildo rubbing between the globes of Emma's ass as Regina vampirically kissed her throat. The moan that came from Emma was long and unbidden. 

"Helena," Regina called, "get in here and have your fun before I grow tired of her." 

Emma shuddered a little. She loved it when Regina's voice got like that—and when Regina's hand went where it was. 

Helena gave Myka a quick kiss before hurrying to attend to Emma, dropping down across from Regina in almost the same trap they'd placed Myka in earlier. Emma's eyes were closed, Regina's wide open to watch HG fit the dildo to Emma's sex. She kept dithering her blonde there right until the strap-on went in, and when Emma cried out, Regina's ear was almost at her mouth. 

"Yes," Regina hissed. "You really are a slut, aren't you?" 

"Least I don't own any leather pants," Emma retorted. 

"Let's not get into your fashion choices." 

"Are these really the circumstances to be argumentative?" Helena asked, proving her point by snuggling closer to Emma, the many inches of her dildo pressing in until the base was tight against Emma's cunt. Emma huffed out various curses, feeling herself getting some for the first time in a while and loving it for the first time in longer. Still, she distinctly felt Regina's hand fondle her ass. Another curse leapt to mind. 

"I take your meaning," Regina said over Emma's muffled swearing, "but she really doesn't get more articulate than this." 

"You're a bitch." 

"I'm the bitch," Regina corrected her lover, parting Emma's cheeks with her soft hands. Her touch was almost gentle. She pressed the head of her dildo the only place it could go. "And your ass is mine." 

Emma swore again. Yet again when Helena thrust forward, starting a pounding pleasure between Emma's legs that Regina just added to by working her dildo into Emma's tight ass. Despite her harsh words, Regina was experienced enough and clever enough to know to go slow, even deferring to Helena as the Englishwoman helped Emma loosen up with small kisses and intimate touches. Emma would remember Regina's hands as actually being quite gentle, stroking Emma's skin as if in amazement at its softness, kissing her lightly on the back of her neck, her breathing throaty and raw. Emma thought if Regina wasn't saying I love you, she was surely thinking it. Emma knew the feeling. 

Myka watched, circling her clit, rubbing her sex, feeling the dull gray safety of her life without Helena burn away, feeling sexual and crazy and worthy, feeling like being in Emma's shoes, feeling like being one of the people doing it to her. She felt dirty in the best possible way. 

Regina's hips pressed against Emma's ass, her muscles clenching slowly and unclenching slower. She forced the dildo in, let it out, forced it in, let it out. She thought Emma's squealing moans were a sign that the sheriff had taken the hint and Regina had gotten her message across, but if she hadn't, she wouldn't repeat herself like some simpering reality show contestant. She'd given Emma some romance, now she wanted to fuck. Her body picked up speed, the dildo pitching in and out of Emma. 

Helena went wild as well, pounding herself into Emma like she was trying to strike Regina through her. She moved in to kiss Emma, but Regina took the woman practically by the throat and twisted her head around to kiss Emma herself. Helena found herself grinning. Such a romantic. She lowered her head to Emma's breasts instead as the blonde's body was thrown between the two gorgeous women. Emma let out a scream, climaxing, but her lovers weren't ready to stop fucking her. 

They went at it for long minutes, Emma coming again and again, Myka coming just for a change of pace, then the curly-haired woman rose from her seat, regarding the three women not as a spectacle, but as an activity to join in on. She went to the bed, touching Helena's shoulder with the merest brush of her fingers. 

Helena pulled out of Emma, rolling onto her back, and Myka smiled eagerly at her as she climbed onto the bed, legs spread to straddle Helena's strap-on. The thought that it was still wet from Emma drove her mad with lust. 

"Hey," Helena said as Myka sank down atop her. 

"Hey," Myka replied, beginning to gyrate her hips, undulate her naked body—dancing for her lover. 

With Helena gone, Regina was free to move to a better position. She rolled on top of Emma, then was on her feet, pulling Emma to the edge of the bend, contorting her lover so she was bent over the precipice. Emma realized that, once again, she was being fucked doggy-style. 

"Thought you were the bitch," she said, projecting more disgruntlement than she felt. 

"We can be bitches together," Regina told her with a slap on the ass. Then she looked at Myka next to her, riding HG Wells like a finely-tuned motorcycle, and had a thought. 

As always, Regina allowed for no possibility of failure in her planning. She thought the specific incantation, the smoke came, and the next thing Emma knew, she was on the opposite side of the bed from the two Warehouse agents, bent over the bed so her face was by Helena's. 

"Thanks, Nightcrawler," she muttered, only to be gripped by Regina's hand in her hair. She was sorta getting to like that... 

Regina forced Emma's face to Helena's, and Emma had time to catch a glimpse of Regina's smile before they were kissing, Regina fucking her in the ass, Helena getting the cowgirl treatment from Myka. As Emma felt Regina's hand taper off her hair and trail down her back, almost lovingly, she began to come, knowing she wasn't the only one. Above her, Regina gasped in orgasm, recovering just enough to meet Myka's eyes as the brunette bounced atop her own lover. 

"Enjoying Storybrooke?" the mayor asked with a wide smile. 

*** 

Myka and Helena gazed into each other's eyes. It wasn't the first time they'd stared at each other so lovingly, but this was the first time they'd rested on such fine pillows. Regina's breasts cushioned their heads, seeming to massage them gently with each breath they took. Emma had been somewhat dissatisfied by the Warehouse agents claiming such fine real estate, but by lining on the bed at a tangent to the three, she could rest her head against Regina's and steal her lips for a quick kiss now and then. And Regina could reach out and grip her upturned ass, which she did, frequently. Emma thought she was being compared to Myka and Helena's offerings. The fact that Regina had nothing to say about her lacking in that department spoke volumes. 

"Hey, Regina?" She spoke softly into Regina's cheek, so as not to wake the other two, who she thought had drifted off. 

"Yes?" 

"Now that we've had a foursome, how about a date?" 

"Would we have to hold hands?" Regina teased. 

"Definitely." 

"I'll consider it. I don't think I should be making any rash decisions in my current condition." Regina yawned. "I really should've gotten to bed by now. I keep to a very strict sleep schedule. I'm being very naughty." 

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Reggie, you really cut loose." 

"Some of us don't sleep until noon, Sheriff." 

"Aurora does!" 

"You're literally going to bring up Sleeping—" Regina yawned again. "I simply must adhere to my sleep cycle. Bad enough I'm sleeping on one of Granny's lump-ridden excuses for a cot instead of getting the proper head and back support—" 

Emma struggled to contain a giggle. Regina sighed. 

"Just be sure to wake me when our two friends are done using me as a mattress." 

"Don't you mean waterbed? You know, cuz you're retaining—" 

Regina goosed Emma quickly. "There are less pleasant things I could do to your ass, Emma dear." 

"Yeah, I have a feeling I'm going to be finding out about that. Why do you want to wake up with Rizzoli and Isles here? Don't tell me you're still in the mood." 

"I'm not you, Ms. Swan. I simply want to bake them some delicious apple pies for the road." 

"Some warm, gooey apple pies?" 

"Yes, Ms. Swan." 

"So tasty and scrumptious you just want to lick your plate?" 

"I take it you'd like your own?" 

"Yes, Regina, I would like to taste your pie. Would you mind baking me one with cherries, or are you out of those?" 

Regina's uncomprehending look turned into a slow smile. "Perhaps you could lend me some. Tell me, Emma, have you ever taken a big, moist piece of fruit between your fingers and squeezed it, harder and harder, until it simply—squirts?" 




Warehouse 13/OUAT: Double Date



"No—but I've seen some videos of it online." 

"Good." Regina patted her cheek. "You can watch them while I get my eight hours of sleep." 

As Regina closed her eyes, Emma heard Helena's gentle laughter. 

"Shut up, you're British. You guys can't even give us good pop stars anymore." She swiveled to Myka. "That goes for you too, Canada." 

"I'm American." 

"Sure you are."