#kopiya

“Why did you do that, Helena?!” Mark’s scowl was a force of habit, as if he were training a child to understand that he wasn’t always going to laugh when she did stupid things. With Henrik’s death immediately coming to mind, he assumed she had set it on purpose. Maybe it was just an accident but knowing her, it felt unlikely.

“Where is it? I’ll show you how to put it out.” A sigh escaped his lips and his expression relaxed a little. At the very least, he could turn it into a life lesson and prevent a future recurrence. You’re going to turn me into an alcoholic, Helena, for God’s sake!

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      she’s nearly certain she’ll go stir-crazy, all cooped up in this damn house. delphine hasn’t left, not even once, since the day she came to say her goodbyes to cosima. she had finally broken down that night, the sight of her lover proving one too much to leave behind forever. in the end, she hadn’t been strong enough to walk headlong into her death alone; she had failed her final act to protect the leda sisters.

      yet somehow, she finds herself drawn further into the fold than ever before. for the first time that delphine can remember, it was without hesitation that their circle had closed around her, hiding her away at siobhan’s. it’s about as far out of dyad’s reach as any of them could really hope to go. they’d find her eventually, of course, they always do -- but that’s what helena’s here for.

      helena, the clone-killer. helena, the pregnant clone. helena, who has barely left delphine’s side since she first volunteered to be there. it had been awkward, at first, a thick and heavy silence constantly lingering that delphine never quite knew how to fill. that hasn’t changed, not entirely, but delphine is observant. she’s started to take note of the woman’s quirks, her likes and dislikes -- of which includes a nearly inhuman hankering for sweets. and with nothing else to do... well, it hadn’t been hard to get back into the kitchen she spent so much of her childhood in.

"Oh, this is lovely! Thank you, Helena.” Ira wasn’t entirely sure what a babka cake was, but he figured he’d have a little taste later and then decide whether or not to let it sit and dry up before throwing it away. Or maybe he could let Charlotte and Susan eat it, though the little girl was just a picky as him. Though he wasn’t entirely sure about this gift, it was more acceptable than Sarah’s ‘motha cuppa’ mug that was hidden behind some other mugs and glasses in the cupboard.

“I just had dinner so I will have to save it for later.” He grinned down at the cake and turned away, placing it on the counter in the corner next to the fridge. Part of him wondered if Helena knew the basic handwashing technique, the oven would probably kill all the germs... "Or should I hide it from Susan and Charlotte? Is the cake just for me or am I allowed to share with them?”

“I had to find Professor Duncan and I didn´t want to lose any time. But that´s only part of the truth. I was…I was avoiding you, I told you. I was afraid of what you felt and a part of me was relieved when I had an excuse to avoid you. I was afraid, Helena, I was a coward.”