Silent Memory (Sanctuary fic)
Title: Silent Memory
Author: ladydeadlock001
Rating: NC-17
Show: Sanctuary
Pairing: John and Helen
Warnings: sex
Disclaimer: I do not own anything of Sanctuary or it's characters; just playing ;)
Summary: Helen remembers a bit of the past (during "the scene" in For King and Country. Only spoiler is how they were positioned in the scene) Yes, this is my fantasy lol!
Word Count: 3,155
*flings fic and runs*
SILENT MEMORY
Watching him sleep, so quiet and calm, she suddenly felt a need she almost didn’t recognize. The need to be close to him was all but buried in her sub-conscious where she had pushed it a long time ago, mainly to protect herself from the relationship they once shared, full of love and adoration for each other. Those memories were painful and when they did surface from time to time over the years, the love she still felt for him was like a knife to her heart. She had to force herself to remember why she had hidden him away; his horrific crimes, or rather, she now understood, the creature’s crimes. This fairly new knowledge somehow made it even more difficult for her. The John she once knew and fiercely loved was still there, had not been completely obliterated. She saw John now, as he slept away whatever it was he had taken earlier, and wanted desperately to feel him.
She lifted his arm, ducking under it, and laid it across her waist, looking up at his face to be sure he would not awaken. She laid her head on his free, outstretched arm, her back against him, head against his chest, and interlocked her fingers with his hand on her waist, holding it in the curve. She sighed almost inaudibly, aware of the tears welling in her eyes. How many times had they lain this way after an evening of usually rough, often tender, always delicious lovemaking? She couldn’t count. In his arms had always been comfort, a safe haven, the place she always wanted to be. It still felt so right. She caressed his outstretched arm lovingly, lost in memory.
She began to whisper to him, telling him that she needed him and why; that their old “friend” had come back to haunt them. After that, her whispers were all about them and ending with “I miss you”, before she fell asleep in his arms once again.
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The Adam trouble seemed to be over now and Helen could not help feeling the guilt, the weight of responsibility for his death. She tried to tell herself that he had forced her to shoot him, but had he really? She was the only one armed at the time and had the clear advantage. She wanted to work it out with someone, to find someone who would take her side in all of this. Any of The Five would do; it should likely be James, but…he wasn’t the one she wanted to be close to tonight.
As she drew closer to the flat John had been leasing, Helen‘s mind was racing. “Don’t be ridiculous Helen, you‘re an intelligent woman. Do not regress at this point.” She tried half-heartedly to talk herself out of it, but it was a pointless exercise. From the moment she saw him walk into the room during the meeting with the Prime Minister, she could not purge him from her mind. She believed she had let him go finally, after not seeing him for so many years…she had been sorely mistaken.
At his door she tried once again. “You’ll only be hurt again…or worse.” Her hand rapped at the wood before she finished her thought.
He appeared at the door, an expression on his face that told her he was not completely surprised she had come to him which slightly annoyed her. He still knew her too well.
“Helen! Do come in.” John said smiling as he backed away from the entrance to let her in. Once she was, he glanced into the hall to be sure no one else was with her. “Alone are we then?” he asked casually, more than pleased at the thought. His eyes took her in unabashedly from hat to boots. She hadn’t changed; the colour of her golden hair, the deep blue of her beautiful expressive eyes, and he assumed that what lay underneath the dress she wore would have the same effect on him as it always had. His imagination had been his only respite these years from the creature’s deeds. Thoughts of her, of them together, while the demon slept, had kept him from going completely mad.
John’s appraising gaze never failed to affect her, even now after all the years apart. His eyes were soft now, not cunning as they had been so often in the last few weeks, not mocking as they had been when he had spoken about “beginning their dance anew.” She slowly pulled off her gloves off as she murmured, “I thought I had killed you.” She glanced at the scar on his cheek. This was the first time they had been alone since he had come back, and she hadn’t allowed herself to concentrate on him or the scar she had given him.
“You tried. Didn’t you?” he asked, holding her eyes.
“Yes. I did.” she whispered, tilting her head slightly. “I had to try to stop you John. You do understand that don’t you?” At the time, that’s what she was trying to do, but the thought that she may have actually taken his life had haunted her dreams over the years.
“I do.” He was honest about this point. He didn’t really blame her, although sometimes he wished she had succeeded. “Are you not afraid of me now? To be here alone with me, Helen?”
She flinched slightly, momentarily unsure. He was watching her so intently now, but that in itself was not really unusual for him. “Should I be?”
He paused only for a second before answering her. “No. I’m rather in control of myself at the moment.” he said almost teasingly. He had never told her how much his demon wanted her life, how he had protected her from it in the past, and he would continue to do so.
“Where have you been all these years John? What have you been doing?” Helen finally asked.
He turned away from her for a moment, pouring them each a snifter of brandy. He held it out toward her, taking a few steps in her direction and she took it from him, her fingers brushing his, sending a spark through both of them. “Do you really want to know Helen? I could offer you details…if you insist?” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes focused on hers, which flashed with annoyance. “But I don’t think that is why you’ve come today. I have a suspicion that you may have a bit of guilt in your heart for shooting our little friend?”
Her snifter stopped halfway to her lips. Had she said anything in the last few days to any of her friends about her feeling? She knew she hadn’t, but John apparently still knew her heart. She took a swig of her drink and a deep breath before responding. “I can’t help but wonder if there was another way to contain him. I did not want to kill him.” she said quietly, staring at her brandy.
“Darling, you did what you had to do in the moment. There is no point in dwelling on something that can not be changed.” John spoke softly as he closed the distance between them and took her hand in his, kissing it lightly.
“Is that what you tell yourself after you take a life?” she asked, honestly wanting to know the answer as her heart fluttered at his touch. She watched his face and saw that the question pained him. So John was still there after all, she thought with relief. Perhaps there was indeed hope for him.
John’s answer was simple. “Yes. Because there is no point in dwelling after the deed is done. Only hope that I may someday control the urge.” He turned from her, walked toward the door and grasped the knob. “You should leave now, Helen.”
She drank the last of her brandy in one swig, set her glass on the table and removed her hat, setting it on a chair. “That’s not what I want John. I want…to continue our conversation.” she said, feeling the heat in her body as she thought about what she really wanted in this moment. It had been over 20 years since she had seen him last and it would seem that her love and desire for him had not waned, a simple kiss on her hand awakening old feelings. She was slightly mortified that she could still feel so much for a stone cold killer, but there it was. She recognized that her own psyche was perhaps not in the normal category considering she felt this way, but she didn’t care at the moment. Now that they were alone finally, she felt the need to be in his arms, right or wrong, even though she wasn’t entirely certain he still wanted the same thing.
John turned his head toward her and held her blue eyes, believing he read her correctly, but felt he should be certain. Desiring Helen was something that was a permanent part of his soul no matter how much time had passed. “My Dear,” he started slowly, “Engaging in conversation is not at the top of my agenda if you decide to stay.”
She hesitated for a moment, gazing at him, studying him, then decided. “Nor mine.” she replied as she began slowly unbuttoning the front of her short jacket, holding his eyes, making sure he did not mistake her. She suddenly felt heady, bold and lustful as she continued to shed her clothing in front of his steady gaze, a smile playing across his lips; she felt her body tingling, becoming ever more aroused under his watchful eyes. As she was about to remove her undergarments he finally spoke.
“Wait.” John said as he came toward her. He slowly raised his hands to her hair, removing all the pins and clips holding it up, letting the golden tresses fall down her shoulders and back. He ran his hands through the thickness of it, letting his sense memory loose. He leaned in, smelling it, closing his eyes…how he missed the scent of her beautiful hair. His lips moved to hers and took her mouth in a deep, dizzying kiss, still gripping her hair in his hands. She opened her mouth to his, her tongue meeting his, one caressing, tasting the other.
He broke the kiss, taking the shoulder straps of her undergarment in his fingers and slowly lowered them, almost salivating at the sight of her breasts, nipples hard and waiting for his touch. He lowered the last piece of her clothing to the floor and she stepped out of it, now standing before him, glorious in nothing. He held her face in his hands and kissed her again, hands sliding lower to cup her breasts, squeezing their fullness. He had thought of this so often over the long years away from her, his memory of the feel of her flesh under his hands, her long legs wrapped around him, her scent, the taste of her, was his only comfort. Now, here she was again and he wanted nothing less than to be lost in her.
Kissing him again, the feel of his touch again…Helen was barely able to keep the tears from her eyes. She understood that she had missed him, but really didn’t know how much until this moment. She moved fully into his arms, head tilted up to take his mouth again. She pressed her naked body against his still clothed one, the roughness of the material against her breasts making her entire body quiver with excitement. Taking his hand, she led him toward the bed and sat down, reaching for his trousers, intending to rid him of them. Instead, he parted her legs with his and knelt between them, lightly caressing her thighs. His hands moved of their own accord it seemed, to her hips, squeezing lightly, to her waist, then sliding up her sides and under the swell of her breasts. He leaned in and covered one breast with his hand, the other with his mouth, his tongue teasing the nipple until Helen closed her eyes, moaning softly as she arched toward him. His mouth left her breast, and Helen leaned back on her hands. John began kissing a light trail down to her belly where he lingered a bit, not knowing why exactly. While he nuzzled her flesh there, his hands moved further down, lifting the leg she had already wrapped lightly around his waist, up onto his shoulder, pushing the other to open her wider to him.
John breathed in her scent, the scent of arousal that had always drove him mad with desire for her. He closed his eyes, dipping his head between her legs and kissed the lips there, finding them wet. He lapped the moisture up with tongue and worked it slowly deeper into her folds, making her squirm with anticipation. He was always somewhat proud of the effect he had on her. He listened to her breathing deepen and intensify as he licked and sucked at her pussy, avoiding her clit until she was moving her hips against his mouth. He slid two long fingers into her at the same time he took the clit, sucking hard, and she bucked a little at the intense sensation, the muscles of her belly fluttering, a gasp/moan flew from her mouth. He thrust his fingers in and out of her in a quick, steady rythmn as he continually licked and sucked her now dripping pussy.
Helen tried to push him away before she came; she wanted him inside her, but she could not control the orgasm that took her over. She gripped his shoulder with her leg, arching off the bed, gripping the bedding with her hands, and moaning as her body lost control.
He sat on the bed, caressing her body as she lay beside him, trying to catch her breath. She reached up, beckoning him with her hand and he dutifully bent to kiss her mouth.
“Take off your clothes now, John.” Helen said huskily, blue eyes gazing into blue eyes. Her hand reached to touch the bulge in his trousers and she squeezed it firmly, causing him to wince only slightly. “Such control…but this must be causing you some discomfort.” she finished, feigning innocence, the sparkle in her eyes giving her away. She turned from him to crawl seductively to the head of the bed, glancing back and winking at him from behind a veil of golden hair. She settled against the iron headboard watching him.
Not taking his eyes from her, John got up and began removing his clothing. As he undressed, he watched with lustful eyes as Helen‘s hand dropped and touched between her legs, the other fondling her breast as she waited for him. He crawled up the bed and knelt between her knees, reaching for her hair, losing his hands in it, and she leaned forward to meet him. Her hand closed around his erection and as she stroked him, her lips met his in a deep, tongue twisting kiss. Freeing one of his hands, he brushed her breasts, teasing the nipples into tight buds, then dipped between her legs, testing her readiness for him. She was slick again, and she had done enough with her hand to almost send him over the edge. He pulled away and turned her to face the headboard, taking her hands and placing them on it. She opened her legs, turning her head back to him, catching his lips with hers as he entered her body, stretching her and pushing slowly, his hands kneading her breasts gently. He closed his eyes as he rested his cheek against hers, rememorizing her as he had been doing since she decided to stay with him; her beautiful face, blue sparkling eyes, the feel of her body under his hands, her mouth on his, the way it felt to be inside her again, the scent of her, the taste of her. He wished he could stay with her, somehow make a life with her, but he knew this was impossible.
Helen closed her eyes and leaned her head against his, pushing her body back against him, encouraging him to push deeper into her. John’s strokes were slow and languid, but became more forceful, deeper, with her help. She wanted him to fill her, own her body like she remembered. She took one of his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers and squeezing it, before guiding it between her legs and showing him what she wanted. He took over willingly, using his fingers to spread the fluid through her folds, and over her clit which he gently stroked in time with his thrusts that were becoming faster, harder. They panted in unison, with frequent moans of pleasure escaping their mouths as they inched closer to their release. She reached behind her with one hand to cup his butt, asking without words for him to thrust harder, faster. Her legs were weakening and she gripped the headboard of the bed for support as he pumped harder into her. She turned her face to his, and he captured her lips with his own as he pushed his finger down hard on her clit, eliciting a deep gasp from her while she plummeted over the edge into an ecstasy only John could ever give her. Her body tightened, jerking and quivering under him as she came; he held tight to her, burying his face in the golden hair laying on her shoulder, moaning her name as he gave one last forceful thrust, spilling himself deep inside her body.
He sat back on his heels, bringing her with him, his hands roaming over her face, down to brush over her breasts, to her belly which he caressed gently, and pressed her against his body as he softened inside her, their respiration returning to normal.
Helen grasped his arms as he lowered them down to the bed, bringing a blanket up over them. He stretched his lower arm out and she laid her head on it, moving her hand up to grasp his that was resting in the curve of her waist, entwining her fingers with his.
John softly kissed the top of her head; she closed her eyes, drifting off, whispering, “I’ve missed you.”
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Helen awakened as the light of a new day filtered into the dingy room, she and John still in the same spooning position as they were when she fell asleep against him. She realized John was also awake, feeling his light caress at her waist. She wanted to remain there with him, in his arms, in his bed, such as it was. For a moment she considered more. But this was not the time, nor the place for that. She raised herself up and away from him with regret. They had work to do.