#melly

It hadn't been smooth sailing by any means. At their first meeting, they'd shouted at each other for so long that the manager of the cafe they were meeting at had asked them both to leave on account of 'upsetting the other customers' and 'disturbing the peace'.

Through late nights of bonding about how Lumon had unequivocally fucked them both over, writing and rewriting statements over copious cups of coffee and splitting takeaways whilst sitting on the living room floor of Helena's new apartment surrounded by loose papers, they'd developed something akin to a friendship.

Which was why when it came to travelling out of state to provide their testimonies at a court hearing that would last multiple days, Mark hadn't protested when she floated the idea of the two of them sharing a room at a nearby hotel instead of paying for two (especially when she'd been cut off from her family's finances and he was paying alimony).

The room itself wasn't too run down, though he suspected it was a lot less glamorous than the kind Helena was used to, if the way she ran her index finger across the surface of the small table was any indication, a frown forming at the dust that collected on her fingertip.

Mark smirked at her, unable to resist teasing, "Should I flag down housekeeping if the room's not up to your standards?"

Helena looked up at him, a self-conscious smile blossoming at the fact that she had been caught.

"Which bed do you want?" She asked, changing the subject as her cheeks began to tinge a light pink.

Mark looked at his options: the two parallel single beds were identical in appearance, both covered in a red bedspread with white swirls and multiple pillows perched at the top. The only difference was that one was in front of the windows, whereas the other was pushed against the wall that adjoined to the bathroom.

"I'll take this one," he said, throwing his dark duffle bag onto the inside bed, having a sneaking suspicion that she would prefer the one with the window.

"Because you need multiple trips to the bathroom in the night on account of your elderly bladder?" Helena guessed as she put her own suitcase on her bed.

Mark scowled in her general direction even as she was turned away from him, already unzipping her case and taking out her perfectly folded clothes, "I can piss the bed instead if that'd make you happier."

Helena let out a disgusted groan at the idea, "Use the bathroom to your heart's content. I'm a heavy sleeper anyway."

Mark nodded at her relenting, reaching into the side pocket of his bag and taking out his charger while he remembered that he needed to keep his phone operational since Devon wanted regular updates about their 'adventure'.

"On the topic…" Helena began, trailing off before turning to face Mark, a shy look donning her features, "I talk in my sleep."

Mark mirrored her, an inquisitive look on his face, "Really?"

"Yes. According to my ex."

He tried his best to look completely unaffected by the new information, instead just nodding as he swallowed. He had no rational reasoning as to why his stomach churned at the mention of an ex, especially one that she had been close enough with to sleep in the same bed. She'd definitely never mentioned him- them? God, he didn't even really know if she was straight. He made a mental note to ask Devon, she was always on the nose with those sorts of things-

"So, uh, sorry in advance. If I do that." Helena continued, wringing her hands together in front of her.

Mark narrowed his eyes at her, "You're pulling my leg, right?"

The small smile made a reappearance, "Unfortunately not. The first time I did it as a child, one of our night staff came in to check on me. Apparently I was shouting about monsters and- what?"

"What?" Mark echoed, unsure why she'd stopped her story, "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did." She rebutted, folding her arms as she pulled her mouth to the side.

"Sorry," he said, realising that he had definitely made a face, "It's just…"

Helena raised her eyebrows, silently waiting for the explanation.

Mark flounced his hands around like jazz hands, repeating the words he'd reacted to, "Night staff."

She scowled in response, taking one of the decorative pillows from her bed and throwing it towards his hands. When it hit him directly on the forehead instead, he couldn't help but grin at her resulting laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~

The two of them arrived back at the hotel much later than they'd anticipated after enduring countless chats with countless people about the hearing they'd be attending the following morning.

Mark had let Helena have first dibs of the bathroom, which she'd happily accepted. Once she exited in her blush pink nightie, she excused herself to bed immediately, already having set her alarm an hour earlier than his since she knew she'd have to spend more time getting ready.

("But what about my hair and make-up?" Mark had whinged, pretending to flick back some imaginary long locks. Helena had simply rolled her eyes, not deigning to give him a response.)

Mark barely paid attention to the book in his lap - some historical fiction novel Ricken had bought him for his birthday three years ago - as he stared at the pages whilst Helena climbed into her bed, reaching under her pillow and producing a silk sleep mask, murmuring a soft 'good night' as she lay her head to rest.

She must've been tired, because before Mark had even finished his chapter, he heard soft snuffles coming from her side of the room. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, curled into a ball like a small animal, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly.

About twenty minutes later, Mark was still reading when he heard incoherent mumbling. When he turned to look at Helena, he noticed how her face had changed to a frown, eyebrows knitted together.

She wriggled underneath the thin covers as if something was causing her discomfort, her eye mask sliding down her face due to her movements, ending up hanging uselessly near her chin.

Mark closed his book without placing his bookmark and put it on his nightstand as he sat up from where he'd been resting against the headboard, watching her carefully with concern.

"No, no," Helena mumbled, one leg kicking the covers.

He discarded his thick-rimmed reading glasses on top of the book and swung his legs off the mattress, his bare feet coming into contact with the scratchy carpet.

Helena whined again, head turning from side to side as her eyes scrunched closed, "No, stop."

Ice went through Mark's veins at the words, completely legible even as they were quiet.

"Get off me-" She continued, thrashing and kicking the duvet half off.

Was this a memory about the aforementioned ex? The ice instantly became hot fire, his jaw clenching at the mere idea of anyone hurting her.

Mark padded towards her, his hand outstretched but halting before he made contact. Didn't people say not to wake a sleep talker? Or was that a sleep walker? Did she sleep walk too? What if she managed to use her key card to open the door whilst still sleeping, walking outside never to be seen again-

"It's my leg, not yours."

His thoughts screeched to a halt as he tried to understand.

Helena continued, sounding more exasperated than anything, "Find your own. I need mine."

Mark couldn't help but chuckle as he tried to imagine the situation that was happening in her dream, pressing a hand to his mouth as to not wake her.

"I like both my legs." She said, head shaking once more.

Mark couldn't help but think he concurred, especially as one bare shin poked out from beneath the covers, looking soft and smooth.

"I'm not giving it to you." Helena grumbled, lower lip poked out in a pout.

Reassured that she wasn't as distressed as he'd originally thought, Mark returned to his bed, turning off the lamp.

The last thing he heard in the darkness before he succumbed to sleep was "you can't have my elbow either."

Mark piled his plate high with a vast array of foods from the breakfast buffet, eager to get his money's worth, especially when he had no idea when they'd have time to eat throughout the rest of the day.

After there was absolutely no space left - his scrambled eggs were already touching his cubes of watermelon - he cast his eyes around the small dining area, settling on a familiar face.

She was dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit that he was sure cost more than his monthly paycheck (back when he had those), her hair scraped back into a professional looking updo with a few strands free to frame her face.

Helena didn't even notice him approaching as she stayed hunched over a notebook, scrawling in quick yet neat handwriting, resting her cheek against her palm.

"Good dream?" Mark said in lieu of a greeting as he set his plate down on the table. There were already two coffee mugs on the surface, both rims stained with her imprints of her pastel pink lipstick.

Helena startled at the intrusion then grinned when she saw who it was, moving her work to one side.

Mark sat down opposite her, his foot accidentally knocking hers, "Was it about pirates, dogs or amputees?"

Helena's eyes narrowed as she tried to make sense of what he was saying, "What?"

"You were telling someone that they couldn't have your leg," Mark explained as if it were obvious, then bit off a corner of his peanut butter smothered toast.

Her mouth opened slightly in shock as she understood, "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't wake you-"

Mark waved it off, "I was still awake. You wouldn't have woken me if I was asleep."

She seemed to relax at the reassurance, shoulders dropping. She placed both hands around one of the mugs, taking a small sip before replying.

"I don't even remember the dream. But I think…" her hazel eyes looked to the side as she tried to recall, "a small child was holding onto my leg? Curled around it as I tried to walk."

"And you wouldn't let them take it?" Mark pressed a hand to his chest, as if scandalised, "The Eagans truly are evil."

As soon as the words were out, he worried that he'd crossed a line, even jokingly. He knew that she'd renounced them in every way that she could, but she still sometimes spoke about how she worried she'd always be associated with the Eagan legacy no matter how hard she tried to leave it behind.

Helena gave him a small smile, a determined glint in her eye.

"That's why we're going to take them down."

A grin spread over his face as he lifted his own mug of black coffee aloft, "Cheers to that."

~~~~~~~~~~

That night, their bedtime routine was similar.

Helena had been the first to retire to bed, whereas Mark was still lying awake in his loose grey t-shirt and checkered red pyjama bottoms. He had intended to get an early night too, but had instead been distracted by texting with his sister, stuck on trying to find the right emoji to appropriately convey his feelings about criminal defence lawyers.

His phone buzzed as he received another text.

"how's sharing a bed with the devil btw"

Mark deleted what he had already written and tapped his thumbs against the glass as quickly as he could, eager to defend her.

"1) She's not the devil. 2) We have separate beds."

Devon's reply came within seconds, which led Mark to believe that she was currently nap-trapped by Eleanor and had nothing better to do.

"i dont believe that you havent pushed them together yet"

Mark tapped on the camera icon to take a photo, turning his phone horizontally so that both sides of his mattress were in frame, his legs in the middle underneath the covers. The flash cast a bright light around the dark room, making Mark thankful that Helena was wearing her eye mask once again. He sent the proof with no additional text, watching as three separate texts filtered in.

"photoshop"

"AI"

"general trickery"

Mark was about to chastise her for the use of multiple messages when one would've sufficed when he heard Helena begin to stir in the bed opposite. He felt the corners of his lips upturn, excited to hear about tonight's story.

He watched as her eyebrows were drawn together, her mouth slightly open, releasing short, quick breaths as her body moved restlessly.

Mark squinted in her direction, his eyes just about able to focus on how her bangs stuck to her damp forehead. He didn't dare breathe as he watched her, his heart thudding too loud in his chest.

His phone vibrated again, and he clenched his hand around it to muffle the intrusive noise.

"are you moving your beds back together now that you've taken the picture"

Mark typed a reply before he could think better of it, needing someone else to know what he was seeing, even if it was his sister.

"I think she's having a sex dream."

The reply was just as quick as the others, if not more so.

"voice note it to me"

Mark grumbled at Devon's words, though realistically he knew he shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Absolutely not."

The three dots appeared instantly.

"come on i bet she sounds hot"

He looked over to the woman in question. Even under the thick comforter, he could see how her hips were undulating as she let out breathy gasps.

And then she began to speak.

"Please-"

Mark closed his eyes tightly. He was a dead man.

She let out a choked moan against the pillow, "I need to come."

Mark swallowed thickly as he clenched his fists, feeling his body getting interested in the proceedings embarrassingly quickly.

His phone screen lit up from where it had fallen next to him.

"are you wanking rn"

He quickly turned the screen over and shoved it under his pillow, already regretting even telling Devon what he was dealing with, knowing he'd never hear the end of it when he next went to her house.

Helena let out a high whine, rocking her hips, "Please, baby-"

Mark never thought that she'd be the pet name type, but it rolled off her tongue naturally, even in her sleep.

"M-"

His breath caught in his throat, eyes practically bulging out of his head. Was she about to say his name? Or was it just a general hum? He'd never been more pissed off that his name started with an M.

She moaned as she turned to lie on her back instead, her eye mask falling off uselessly, "Fuck me-"

Mark was thinking the exact same.

As she repeated the same low humming noise - Mark straining his hearing to see if she'd add more letters this time - he felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest and his stomach turning in knots, the arousal and guilt twisting around each other as he eavesdropped.

"Please, let me come," she mewled, the tone high and needy.

He'd never heard something so beautiful in his life.

Suddenly, Helena's eyes snapped open as she jolted awake.

Mark flopped his head down onto his pillow quickly as he could, feeling a rush in his ears. He closed his eyes, remembering all the times in childhood that he had pretended to be asleep when his mother had come to check on him in the night. He let his mouth hang open slightly and mimicked small snores.

He could hear movement on her side of the room and willed himself to commit to his charade, even as his heart raced.

A complete silence had fallen over the room, save for the low humming of the radiator, until-

"Mark?" Her voice was raspy and quiet.

He did everything he could to stay still.

"Mark?" She repeated, "Are you awake?"

He let out a larger snore, which he was certain would make her see him as unattractive, but it did the trick.

She chuckled breathlessly before padding quietly to the bathroom.

Mark saw the yellow light emanating from the bathroom behind his closed eyes, then heard the sink running.

The wise part of his brain told him to just continue his pretence of sleep. They were friends at best and two people working towards a temporary mutual goal at worst. Taking down Lumon was more important than getting laid (even if it had been an excruciatingly long time for him).

But then, a small, hidden part of his brain - probably the area that was tampered with when he elected to have brain surgery - wanted to follow it through, regardless of the consequences.

He pretended to wake up, giving an Oscar-worthy performance even as she wasn't back in the room yet, blinking slowly like a cat that had just awoken from a long nap.

Helena walked back into the main area, startling when she saw Mark propped up on his elbows.

"You okay?" He whispered to her, proud of how he'd made his voice sound laced with sleep, though he had to admit that rubbing the heel of his hand into his eye might have been overkill.

"How long have you been awake?" She asked instead, looking further down at his covered body instead of giving him eye contact.

Mark swallowed, his mouth dry, "Woke up with the running water." He said, praying that it was convincing.

"Shit, sorry," she replied, looking sheepish. She walked back to her bed, perching on the edge but not swinging her legs around just yet.

"Why are you awake?" Mark dared to prompt, "Bad dream?"

Even in the low light of the moon's rays trickling in through the blinds, he could see her cheeks flush.

"Not bad," she replied, her eyes widening as soon as the words were out, "I mean, I don't think so. I don't remember."

Mark nodded along, unsure how he should play his cards. Was it better for them both if he just took her response at face value? Maybe she was even being sincere?

There was a beat of silence before he replied, eyes watching her like a hawk. "Did you feel bad?"

"No." She replied instantaneously, fingers fiddling with the lace trim hem of her night dress where it laid on her thighs.

Mark swallowed again, taking in a deep breath through his nose to calm himself down before he prodded again, "Did you feel good?"

Her eyes regarded him, narrowing in his direction, "Was I talking?"

He stayed quiet, not wanting to lie but also not wanting to embarrass her.

Helena took his silence as confirmation and tilted her chin upwards as she watched him carefully, not even blinking. "Did I say anything decipherable?"

He felt his breath stutter out of his chest as he nodded his head slowly.

"What did I say?" She asked, the brave words betrayed by her trembling voice.

"You really want to know?"

"I have every right to." She reasoned, straightening her spine as she waited.

Mark nodded again, more to himself, swallowing thickly before he spoke, "You- uh- started by saying please."

Helena blinked twice, face passive, "Maybe I was just talking to a cashier at the shop, then."

"Do you usually tell cashiers that you need to come?"

Her mouth fell open as she floundered for a reply.

Mark pushed on, feigning a confidence that he didn't fully feel. "Do you usually ask permission?"

Helena shook her head, tendrils of hair escaping the low ponytail at the nape of her neck.

"Do you want to?" He dared to ask.

She stayed frozen for a moment, eyes trained on the floor.

Then nodded once.

Mark felt his jaw clench at the mere idea, a familiar stir pulling in his lower stomach. "Do you… want to be good for-" he caught himself, "someone?"

Helena looked at him through her lashes, her own jaw tight, "Someone?"

He shrugged, giving her an out if she needed it, "I don't know who you were fucking in that dreamland of yours."

A flicker of a smile crossed Helena's features.

Mark watched as she stood up, his eyes raking down her bare legs as she stepped towards his bed.

She stopped next to his bedside table, leaning down until she was mere inches away from his face.

Her pupils were blown even in the darkness, the green irises only a thin ring. A slim hand moved forward to rest on the collar of his shirt, the thumb grazing his collarbone. Just the faint touch made his pulse jump beneath her touch.

"Let me make it clear for you." She whispered, her breath warm against his lips.

As soon as Helena's lips touched his, Mark surged upwards, placing a hand to the back of her head to bring her closer. The kisses were tentative, just short, sweet pecks over and over, parting then being drawn back together.

Helena placed her hands on his chest to steady herself as she pulled away more definitively, her breath already quicker.

"Did that help you figure it out?" She asked with a soft smile.

"Yeah," Mark couldn't help but return the grin, twisting one lock of hair her hair around his finger, "But I am a little bit clueless about this stuff, so…"

She gave an amused chuckle as he trailed off, "Do you require further illumination?"

He brought one hand down to pull back the covers, inviting her in. "Yeah. Lots. I'm really dumb."

"I'll have to be persistent then." She surmised. Helena climbed onto his bed, bracketing his thighs with her own, hovering just above his lap.

Mark brought his hands to her back, relishing in the soft feel of her night gown and pulled her closer, encouraging her to let her weight fall on him. As soon as she obliged, the two let out twin gasps at the feel of their bodies touching, both aware of the effect the preamble was already having on Mark.

Their mouths met once more, this time with more fervour as they gained confidence. Helena brought her hands to the back of Mark's neck, her nails slightly scratching the nape, resulting in a full body shiver that made his mouth open in a groan. Helena eagerly welcomed it, the tip of her tongue flicking against his before retreating.

He ran his hands down to her lower back, skirting around her ass and landing on her thighs, indulging in the feather soft skin exposed by her attire. He was almost grateful that he went to bed in full length pyjamas, knowing that the feel of her legs bare against his would be maddening.

The reminder that this situation had been completely unexpected until moments ago raised a concern at the back of his mind.

He used all of his willpower to pull away, opening his eyes to focus on hers, "Wait."

Helena looked back in confusion, her lips pink and kiss-swollen as she breathed heavily. There was a crestfallen look in her eyes, and Mark could almost see the walls being built up around her.

"No, it's just-" Mark moved his arms around her waist, holding her close in reassurance, "Are you sure you want to do this? You're not just all horned up from your wet dream?"

Helena's nose wrinkled as she pursed her lips, "Did you have to say it like that?"

"Sorry," he breathed, trying his best to look earnest, "I'm being serious though."

Helena smiled at his consideration, bringing one hand to the side of his face. She brushed the hair backwards just for it to spring back into place.

"I've wanted this for a while." She admitted, biting down on her lower lip as soon as the confession was out in the open.

Mark couldn't help but smirk, his chest puffing up in pride, "Yeah?"

She rolled her eyes, "There's no accounting for taste, is there?"

He felt his heart jump at her brazen playfulness, ducking his head forward to kiss her again, delighting in how he could feel her smile beneath his.

Helena pressed closer, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and the other staying on his face, her thumb sweeping across his jaw, the prickle of his stubble rough against the smooth pad.

Mark jolted at the feeling, subconsciously clenching his hands as they lay on her lower thighs, the tips of his fingers daring to brush just underneath the fabric. The grip made Helena moan into his mouth and Mark eagerly swallowed the noise, pressing forward so that his nose was against her cheek, needing her to be as close as possible as he drank her in.

He began to trail kisses along her jawline, relishing in the way she tilted her head back with a choked exhale, silently inviting him to make his way down.

He was more than happy to oblige.

When his mouth reached the spot just under her ear - where he was rewarded with a breathy moan - he trailed down her neck, lightly applying pressure but intentionally making sure he didn't leave any lingering marks, certain that she wouldn't want anyone to notice them when she took to the stand the next day.

The thought of what they were originally here to do reminded Mark that they were on borrowed time, even if he could've spent all night lazily kissing Helena and finding all of the spots that made her moan and gasp and quiver.

"What was I doing?" He asked against the delicate skin of her neck.

There was a few seconds of delay in Helena's reply, her voice sounding dazed, "What?"

"In your dream." He clarified, moving back to look at her.

"Oh." Her cheeks were almost shining in the darkness as she looked down sheepishly, "You don't have to do that."

"Come on," Mark kissed her cheek softly, feeling how warm the skin was, "let me make your dreams come true."

Helena groaned, this time out of exasperation.

But Mark didn't relent, instead kissing her neck again using the barest hint of teeth as he ran his short nails gently against her thighs, "Tell me."

Helena let out a whimper, head lolling back as she melted, "You were… using your mouth."

He smiled against her neck, gently sucking the skin as he hummed, "Using it how?"

She squirmed in his lap, making them both gasp as she brushed against his groin, "You know how."

Mark moved his hands up, letting them rest on her hips, gripping the bunched up fabric, "Use your words, Helena."

She whined, letting in a deep inhale before letting the sentence tumble out of her mouth quickly, "You were performing cunnilingus."

A laugh left him before he could stop it, "You can't just say 'eating out'?"

Helena looked at him with a glare that had no real malice in it whatsoever, "No, I can't."

Mark smiled mischievously, determined to make her break, "You can't say I was licking your cu-"

Her hand quickly moved to cover his mouth before he could finish, her cheeks burning, "I definitely can't say that."

Mark's chest fluttered at her bashfulness, pressing a kiss to the palm held against his mouth then grasping her wrist and pulling it away slowly, kissing the tendons there too, "You're cute."

"Shut up and put your mouth to better use." She rebuked boldly, delivered with a sweet smile.

Mark nodded firmly, "Yes, ma'am."

His hands moved underneath the nightie, up and up until he reached the junction between her legs and hips, his eyes widening as he found it bare.

"Have you been naked under this for both nights?" He asked, his voice gravelly as he looked down even as she was still covered.

"It's better for the vaginal pH balance," Helena said, rocking her hips as he held them, "Reduced risk of bacterial infections-"

"Excellent dirty talk," Mark mused sarcastically.

"Didn't I say something about you using your mouth for something other than teasing me?" She raised an eyebrow, the look reminding him of how terrifying she could look to those opposing them in the court room.

"But teasing is half the fun," Mark said as trailing his fingers across her hips to do exactly that.

Helena let out a noise of disapproval as she grasped the hem of her nightie and threw it over her head in the direction of 'her' bed, letting her stance on teasing be known.

Mark felt his mouth go slack as he took in all the new skin on show, immediately drawn to her dusty pink nipples, bringing his hands up to caress her breasts softly.

She let out a wanton moan, grasping at the bottom of his t-shirt and attempting to pull it off, even as he let out a dismayed noise at taking his hands away for even a second.

Helena ran her fingers down the expanse of his chest, gently dragging her nails against the skin.

Mark groaned, his hips jerking upwards without meaning to. He brought his mouth to hers again, already open and willing as he swiped his tongue against her lip whilst she wrapped her arms around his mid-section, their chests pressed against one another.

He indulged in the kisses for a few greedy moments before returning to the task at hand, wanting nothing more than to make her feel good.

"Lay back for me," he requested quietly, placing one hand behind her head to ease her down even on the soft mattress.

The two shuffled to swap places, Mark distantly wishing that he had actually had the forethought to push their beds together.

Once Helena was laying down comfortably, Mark began the trail of kisses down her body, firstly at her neck, then past her collarbone, then her chest, paying particular attention to her breasts.

Helena grasped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his dark hair and pulling him closer.

As if he had any intention of leaving.

He retreated only to lavish the other nipple too, rolling the hard peak around his tongue, revelling in the way she keened above him.

His mouth kept following the path downwards, trailing open mouthed kisses on it's journey until he reached the neat cropped hair, his mouth watering at the sight.

"Okay?" His voice was laced with lust, barely audible even in the still night.

She gave her answer by way of parting her legs even more.

He pressed a kiss to her inner knee as gratitude for the invitation, making Helena jerk at the contact, the knee in question narrowly missing his head.

"Sorry-" she whispered, bringing a hand to his cheek, thumb brushing softly in apology.

Mark grinned at her care, leaning into the touch, "I can't 'perform cunnilingus' if I'm knocked out."

Helena chuckled, tilting her head to regard him, "Maybe you should get further away from my knee then. For your own safety."

A laugh erupted from Mark's throat, warm and fond, "You're so smart."

"Benefits of private schooli-" She cut herself off as she sucked in a breath when Mark pressed his mouth on her inner thigh, his tongue peeking out to taste the supple skin.

He trailed upwards, dotting kisses, only stopping when he was mere inches away, his warm breath tickling her.

Mark paused, even as his heart pounded, "Yes?"

"Yes." Helena breathed.

He started with one long stripe along her, then moved back just enough to look at her face.

Her hips chased his touch, hands grabbing a fistful of his hair as her eyes fluttered closed.

Satisfied, Mark let his tongue venture further in, moaning at the taste of her hitting him, heady and sweet.

"Fuck, fuck, Mark-" She babbled, breaking his name into two syllables as she choked out a moan halfway through, throwing her head back against his pillow.

Mark took his time with her, alternating between long, slow licks and short, little flicks, enthralled by how each made a different sound erupt from her mouth: a gasp, a moan, a whine.

She spoke nonsensically above him, littering words into the air: 'more', 'yes', 'Mark-'.

He brought one hand to her entrance, teasing it with just the tip of his middle finger in a silent question.

"Yes, yes, in," Helena answered, the words quick and desperate.

Mark happily did as he was told, groaning when he felt just how warm and soft she was, pulsing as he curled his finger.

Her hips jerked clean off the bed at the movement, her leg muscles tightening.

He gently pushed her back down and draped one arm across her lower stomach, his hand resting atop her hip, light enough that she wouldn't feel trapped.

Not long passed before the noises leaving Helena became more frequent and more needy, her hips stuttering as she ground down on his tongue.

"Need- clit- please-" She spoke in broken sentences, each word punctuated by a sharp breath.

Mark kept stroking upwards with his finger as he enclosed his lips around her clitoris, sucking hard.

She let out a high whine at the feeling before her whole body stopped moving and making noise as she teetered on the precipice.

There were a few seconds of stillness, then it was broken by a deep breath, followed by the loudest moan so far and a gush of wetness meeting Mark's mouth, which he greedily lapped up. He continued gently sucking and flicking his tongue as she rode her high then came back down until she swatted at the top of his head repeatedly, squirming beneath his arm.

Mark pulled back with a lick of his lips, kissing her inner thigh once more as he wiped his mouth against her.

Helena giggled, her arms sprawled out above her, giving him the most gorgeous view as he began to move upwards.

He bent forward to kiss the freckle on the side of her breast that was on display just for him, unable to resist the siren call.

"Good?" He asked as he retreated, hovering his face above hers.

"Really good," Helena said, her eyes slightly glazed over and cheeks pulling into a blissful grin.

"Oh, that good?" Mark teased as he rested his forehead against hers.

Helena scoffed, even as her eyes met his with adoration, "Don't let it go to your head."

"Which one?" He countered with a smirk.

The joviality evaporated as something else seemed to peak her interest, "Speaking of which-"

A hand snaked between them to touch the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, "Can I?"

Mark felt his cheeks warm. He always asked, but he couldn't recall the last time someone reciprocated that.

"Yeah," He replied, his voice catching slightly.

Helena brought both hands to either side of him, pulling down the pants devastatingly slowly, watching with hunger as a trail of dark hair was revealed, then a bigger bush, and finally his cock, inch by inch until it was all out of the waistband, springing up instantly.

She wrapped a gentle hand around the base and he instantly jerked into her hand without meaning to, a low moan emanating from him. She indulged in it for a few languid strokes, adoring how he reacted, then peered at him from beneath her half-lidded eyes.

"Condom?"

"Yeah," he replied, nodding dumbly, "Hold on." He swung his legs to the side of the bed, using the opportune moment to kick off the rest of his pyjamas, then hurried to the bathroom.

A small thump sounded as something hit the floor tile, making Helena chuckle as she lay back as she waited as patiently as she could, her body thrumming from her orgasm but still craving more.

Mark appeared, triumphantly holding a foil square, "Sorry, I dropped everything." He said as he hurried back, joining Helena as he knelt down in front of her.

"I heard." She mused, eyebrows raised playfully, "Glad you have one, though. Thought you'd get lucky?"

"Hardly. This thing has been in my wash bag for so long that I had to check the expiry date." He ripped the packet open, throwing the packaging to the floor. (Helena made a mental note to try and remember to pick it up before housekeeping arrived in the morning).

"And?"

"We've got a couple of months."

"Oh, did you want to save it for then?"

Mark surged forward to capture her lips with his as an answer, even as they were misaligned due to how much they were both smiling.

He pulled away just enough to roll the condom on, then looked at Helena, his face more serious, "How do you want to do this?"

Helena was quiet for a moment as she seemed to deliberate how to respond. Mark waited her out patiently.

"I usually like being on top." She confessed.

Mark nodded eagerly, encouraging her honesty, "I can work with that."

Helena mirrored the nod with a shy smile, "It's… kind of a control thing."

"You like to be in control?" His voice was rough as he moved to be beside her, laying back against the headboard.

She nodded, following his lead as she brought herself up to her knees.

"Is that why you have dreams like that?" He dared to ask, hoping he wasn't pushing too far, "Because you've never been able to relinquish it?"

Helena ducked her head down, tendrils of hair falling to obscure her face.

He moved a hand out to tuck the strands behind her ear, letting his hand move down to cup her jaw, tilting her head to look at him.

"We'll go at your pace, Helena." He promised reassuringly.

A smile began to bloom as she moved forward to kiss him softly, wrapping her arms around his upper back as she came closer.

Helena situated herself above him, moving a hand down to wrap around his shaft, lining him up beneath her. She lowered herself down devastatingly slowly, her eyebrows drawn together and eyes closed as she slowly sank down.

Mark fought every impulse to not jerk his hips up to meet her, taking slow breaths, keeping his gaze trained on her.

When she had finally taken him all, her face smoothed out, a blissful exhale leaving her lips as her eyes fluttered open again.

"Well done," He cringed as soon as the words were out, wishing he'd phrased the praise differently.

Helena choked out a surprised laugh, "Thank you."

Mark opened his mouth to apologise, but the words left and were replaced with a deep groan as she gave an experimental grind against him, then moved up again, careful to not disconnect them.

She continued the movement, Mark lazily trailing his hands up and down her thighs as he maintained eye contact, his mouth open as he watched her, addicted to her short breaths and little hums.

"So good," he said, his voice almost slurred as he ducked his head forward into the juncture between her neck and shoulder, daring to graze his teeth against the skin, knowing that any marks would be hidden the next day.

Helena let out a whimper, beginning to increase her speed as she moved one hand to the back of his neck, encouraging him to stay where he was. He put more pressure on the skin, a moan erupting from her when he bit down.

Soon, every thrust was punctuated with a noise from either of them. A mumbled word, a sharp gasp, a quiet moan, a smacking of lips.

Helena's legs began to quiver with the effort, the rapid pace she'd set faltering.

"Wait," she breathed, moving one hand to swipe against her forehead, pushing back the hair that stuck against the beads of sweat.

Mark pulled back instantly, eyes wide as he removed his hands from where they'd wandered onto her hips.

"No, not, I mean, yes," she heaved in a breath and reset, "I want to turn around. As in," she motioned between them, "missionary."

Mark smiled too sweetly for the sounds they'd just been making, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled back, reassured by him.

He moved his hands to her waist and helped lift her up, instantly mourning the loss of her around him.

The two shuffled awkwardly around each other until Helena was laid down comfortably, her red hair fanned out against his pillow, a stark contrast from the white fabric.

Her hands rested on her stomach as Mark perched between her legs, gently stroking the tops of her thighs.

"Tell me if you feel uncomfortable in any way, okay?"

Her eyes were full of something he couldn't quite place as she looked up at him, "Okay."

Mark hovered above her, entering her as slowly as she had done before.

She intended to keep his eye contact, but as soon as he filled her again, she couldn't help but lean her head back in ecstasy, wrapping a leg around him to bring him even closer.

He built up the rhythm slowly, letting out breaths of exertion with every thrust.

"Please," she called out, one hand grasping in the bed sheet in a tight twist.

It sounded even better than in her dream. Mark knew he'd be hearing it in his head for years to come, regardless of what happened after that night.

She repeated the word, this time more high-pitched and desperate.

"What do you need, baby?" Mark brought a hand beneath her head, cradling it with care.

She whined in response, "More."

"More what?"

"Everything-"

Mark took liberty with her request, placing a hand on her breast and squeezing her nipple, relishing in the way it made her hips buck beneath him. After a few times, he did the same to the other, which seemed to be even more sensitive if the noises she was making were anything to go by.

"I- I think I'm close," Helena whispered, eyes unfocused as she met his.

He slowed slightly, even as it took all of his restraint, "Don't you need to ask something first?"

She all but whimpered, hips stuttering, "Please-"

When she said nothing further, he pressed her for more, "Words, Helena."

She gasped at the request, redness creeping up her chest and neck, "Please, let me come."

He had to take a deep inhale through his nose to calm himself down, eager to see this through, "How close are you?"

"I don't know-" she whined, head thrown back, "I just-"

"Can I count you down?" He asked, unsure where the idea had come from.

Helena gave an unabashed moan at the idea, which he took as a yes.

"From what?"

"Five." She answered breathlessly.

He hummed, "Can you do ten?"

She shook her head quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

"Okay," he acquiesced, not wanting to push her. At least not that time. "Five-"

Helena hummed, one of her heels pressing harder against his lower back as her abs clenched.

"Four-"

Her hips jerked beneath him as she met his every thrust, skin slapping together. "Fuck, fuck-"

"Three-"

He moved a hand between her legs to stroke against her clitoris once more, making Helena moan loudly, the sound of it almost making him lose control right then and there.

"Two-"

"Please, Mark, please, please-"

"One-" He drew out the last word, amazed by the way she waited patiently for his permission even in her desperation.

"Can I?" Her voice was strained, her body tight and taut.

"Come for me."

As soon as the last syllable was out, Helena's resolve snapped, her back arching beneath him as she let out a long, final groan.

Mark was instantly dragged down with her as she shook, making loud grunts into her ear as he fell over the edge too.

Helena took a deep breath as she began to come down, her legs falling from where they were holding him against her as they shook with the aftershocks, her hand wiping against her cheek where a stray tear had fallen from the intensity of her orgasm.

As soon as Mark finished, his body lost all strength. He rolled off just before he could crush Helena, but had forgotten that they were on a single mattress until his legs careened off the side, his feet and shins hitting against the floor.

Helena laughed loudly at the sight and it became his second favourite sound of hers in his catalogue, right after the sound of her saying his name just before she hit her peak.

Mark climbed up to join her, aware of how close he had to be in order for them both to fit, their breaths mingling together as they slowed, heads resting on the pillow.

"You good?" He asked, pulling up the covers around them even as he felt incredibly warm.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She replied as she brought a hand up to brush his hair out of his face once more, "My dream just came true."

~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning, when Mark roused from his sleep, the first thing he felt was his arm being trapped by something.

He opened his eyes to find Helena Riggs atop it, her own arm wrapped around him possessively as she slept, one leg hooked over his.

Mark sneaked his free hand under his pillow to grab his phone, moving as slowly as he could bear to ensure he didn't wake her.

Once he had it, he took a picture of their legs beneath the covers, entangled but still obviously two pairs. He sent the picture to Devon with the caption 'Didn't need to push them together'.

He felt his phone buzz with an incoming message in about five seconds, but he simply swiped down and engaged Do Not Disturb mode and shoved it underneath his pillow once more, instead opting for more sleep, knowing it wouldn't be long until her alarm sounded.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, which prompted her to let out a satisfied hum.

Helly surveyed their surroundings, unaware of where they'd ended up. She stood on shaky legs, Mark instantly mourning the loss of her. She ripped the lanyard off her neck when she saw the nearest door, scanning her key card and letting out an incredulous gasp when she was greeted with a green light and a sharp beep.

She swung the door open, rushing inside to find anything that could help.

The room was mostly empty, housing a couple of desks and office chairs under constant bright red lighting. She grabbed the short side of an abandoned desk, lifting and dragging it towards the door to keep it propped open as she returned to Mark, who was still laying outside helplessly.

"Come on," she pleaded, her voice quiet yet still desperate, "Just in here."

He knew he needed to do it - for himself and for her - but his entire body felt like it had given up: his head was heavy, his legs were screaming, his rib cage ached with every breath.

The couple of seconds of silence was enough to prompt Helly to try a different approach. She hurried around, stepping over him and rooting one foot on either side of his body. She bent down to place her hands around his middle, using all of her strength to try and move him.

Mark let out a loud whimper as she tried to lift him, gritting his teeth so tightly that he was surprised he didn't hear a crack.

Helly quickly muttered a string of apologies and swears but continued to manoeuvre him awkwardly yet quickly, all but pushing him inside just enough to clear the doorway.

As soon as they were both in the small space, Helly kicked the table away, letting it fall inside, the sharp bang hardly affecting them as the alarm continued to blare loudly.

Helly met Mark on the floor, gently brushing a few strands of hair out of his face, his eyes fluttering even as they were shut.

"I'm so sorry," Helly breathed, reaching down to hold one of his hands, thumb rubbing rhythmically against the skin, "I didn't want to hurt you."

He simply shook his head, refuting her apology, then rested it against the cool floor.

"Wait-" She pulled away, making Mark grunt in complaint.

He opened one eye to make sure she wasn't leaving, and was shocked to see both her hands grasp the bottom of her green sweater, pulling it off without hesitation and fashioning the thin material into a lopsided ball.

Mark felt breathless for a completely different reason as she leaned forward whilst her chest was only covered by a nude satin bra, cursing the fact that he was in no condition to trace his fingers along the soft skin.

Helly, completely unaware of his thoughts, brought her sweater next to his face, moving one hand between his cheek and the floor, lifting just enough to move the makeshift pillow beneath.

It was instantly so much more comfortable, Mark letting out an appreciative hum as the smell of her perfume wafted into his nose, all floral and light and distinctly Helly.

He wanted to give his thanks, but his brain didn't co-ordinate well enough with his mouth, and instead he let out an incoherent mumble, closing his eyes again in defeat.

"Oh, baby," Helly whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his damp temple, "What happened to you down there?"

Mark truly hoped it was a rhetorical question, because if he couldn't say one word, then there was no way in hell that he could explain the giant man and Lorne and Emile the goat and all of the fighting-

"I'm here," Helly said assertively, giving him another kiss, "I'm not leaving."

Mark settled at her words, despite everything.

"Okay, right-" Helly whispered to herself.

Mark opened the eye that wasn't pressed against the sweater when he heard her move, watching as Helly lifted herself up onto her knees and reached under her skirt. His mind flitted back to the last time she'd done that, when they were in their own tent in a room similar to this one.

A groan surfaced at the memory.

Helly let out a breathless laugh, "Easy, tiger," she commented with a teasing lilt, "that's not what I'm doing it for."

She pulled her pantyhose off harshly, then laid them out in front of her, folding them in half length ways so they became one long strip connected on one side.

Her hands picked them up as she regarded Mark again, "What part of you is bleeding the most?"

Mark didn't have the energy to explain that (most of) the blood wasn't his and instead just shook his head, wincing as a muscle pulled in his neck.

Helly's brow furrowed at the answer, her knees shifting closer to his chest, "I'm going to undress you, is that okay?"

Mark was powerless to do anything but agree, nodding with a light hum.

A gentle hand tugged at the bottom of his jacket sleeve, lifting the arm as slowly as she could and pulling the sleeve down, hearing some of the stitching rip at the awkward angle. Once his arm was out, she threw the sleeve over his back, deciding that she wasn't going to risk moving Mark to remove the jacket completely, especially considering how he seemed close to sleep, even with the alarm still sounding.

She focused on the front of him again, her nails trying to unpick the knot of his tie as her hands shook. She was unfamiliar with how the fabric was tied - did this version of Mark even know? - but soon enough the tie was off and thrown across the room. Next, she got to work on his shirt buttons, wincing when her fingertips touched the warm, sticky blood.

She never could've predicted that the first time she took off his shirt would look like this.

Helly prepared for the worst, expecting to find a huge cut somewhere on his chest due to the sheer amount of blood seeping through.

She was both relieved and perplexed when she pushed the shirt open.

A splayed hand skirted over the exposed skin of his upper body. There were bruises beginning to bloom in splotches, but no cuts at all.

Mark shivered at the feeling of her cold hand dragging across the expanse of his skin, his eyes snapping open to see her worried ones.

"Sorry," she murmured, her gaze still on his chest, one index finger brushing the smattering of dark hair.

"No," he corrected quickly, "it's nice."

A shy smile blossomed on Helly's face at the praise whilst she continued to rake her hand over his body, but it dropped when she brought her gaze to his face again.

"There's no blood." She said, the words posed as a question and a statement at the same time.

"I… think I killed someone." His voice was quiet, cracking on the last word. He closed his eyes, almost afraid to see her reaction.

Her response was simply to cup his face as she kissed his damp forehead, the iron-tinged smell of blood hitting her nostrils.

Mark let out a sigh of relief so large that it made the pain in his ribcage flare once more.

Helly balled up the flesh coloured fabric and began to swipe it across his forehead as she cleaned him. Some of the blood came away on the light material but the dried parts stubbornly stayed. She brought the pantyhose to her mouth to wet a small spot then tried again, pressing a little harder.

Mark winced, sucking in air between his teeth.

"Sorry," she repeated in a soothing tone, "Can I keep going?"

He nodded, trusting her implicitly with this, as he did with everything else.

They both lost track of time as Helly continued to clean him as they stayed in relative silence, the only sounds between them being their laboured breaths and the siren. Mark soon began to find the wiping motions almost soothing as they traversed across his face then down his neck and along his upper body.

"You should sleep."

Mark opened his eyes to find Helly setting her makeshift rag to the side, evidently finished with her work.

He grumbled in protest, turning to look at her fully, "What if you're gone? When I wake up?"

She gave a soft smile, brushing a hand through his hair, "I won't be, I promise."

She crawled around him, his head lifting to watch where she was going despite the conviction in her words.

Helly slotted herself between him and the door to create a barrier, curling up and pressing her chest against his back. She wrapped an arm around his midsection, then tore it away when she felt his body jolt at the sensation.

Mark quickly grabbed her wrist, placing his arm on top of hers and interlacing their fingers like she had done earlier whilst he finished the final set of numbers. He brought both of their arms to rest on his body, even as it made the pain bloom anew.

Helly kissed the back of his neck in response, not caring that it was covered in sweat. Her free hand came up to trace shapes onto his back: first a long, slow circle, then a more angular rectangle, the longer lines going all the way down to his hips, then a spiral that swirled inward.

He was certain that the last one he felt was a heart, a smile tugging at his mouth as he succumbed to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

only took me a whole month longer than planned but i wrote a fic for every day of MarkHelly week yippee!

Helly quickly scurried to the side of the room, feeling her heart race as her palms began to sweat, prompting her to wipe them on the fabric of her ripped jeans.

She'd ran away from her Father's house at age seventeen with just a duffel bag, and whilst he'd never seemed to reach out to anyone to find her (she was sure he had the means to, just not the motivation), seeing anyone from law enforcement made her worry that he had finally located her whereabouts. Her brain flooded with unwanted images of her being dragged kicking and screaming into the back of a police car and driven back to Kier without a chance to look back.

Helly eyed the man carefully, staring as he strode onto the dance floor confidently, his pale face illuminated by the lights, swirls of bright pink and red.

She looked him up and down as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze catching on the uniform he donned. It seemed to be incredibly cheap. Perhaps this was a result of the budget cuts she'd heard about?

Even his shield badge looked like it was made of plastic, and his name badge was falling off on one side-

Helly squinted, trying to read the tiny black letters as he moved. Did that say his name was 'Goodbody'?

The man in question held up his hands, shouting to be heard over the thumping music, "I'm here to investigate a noise complaint, who's in charge of this party?"

The other party goers began hooting and hollering as they pushed the bachelor to the dance floor.

He was already pleasantly buzzed, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he looked at the police officer, barely restrained glee on his face, "That's me, officer." He shouted, his words slightly slurred, "I'm so sorry."

"What's your name?" The policeman asked, his jaw set and expression serious, even as there was mayhem all around him. Helly even noticed one woman trying to lift up the side of his shirt, but he quickly swatted her hand away.

"Matthew Harrison." the bachelor said with what could only be described as a giggle.

Helly felt uncomfortable at how blasé Matthew was being about this altercation, thinking that surely it would prompt escalation.

"I've heard about you down at the station," the officer said, taking a bold step towards him, "You're a troublemaker."

A girl that Helly distantly recognised from another course at their college cupped her hands together next to her mouth as she cheered, "Yeah he is!"

The officer paid no mind to her, continuing, "I have no choice but to teach you a lesson."

He placed a gentle hand on each of Matthew's shoulders, pushing him backwards until he all but fell into a chair behind him, his head tilted up towards the officer as he grinned wickedly.

Helly's palms itched as she watched, eyes widening. She lifted up her phone, opening her camera to film the interaction between the two, even though it seemed multiple other guests already had the same idea. If this police officer had no qualms about laying hands on an innocent person, then who knows what-

A new song began to blare over the speaker system, the opening notes making everyone cheer so loudly that Helly winced at the sheer volume.

She watched on, her jaw lowering as she saw what was happening through her phone screen.

The police officer was dancing.

Well, more accurately, he was… gyrating.

His hips swung side to side in exaggerated movements, prompting Matthew to put his hands over them, pulling the man closer as he threw his head back in laughter, a nearby friend choosing that moment to place a neon green cowboy hat on him.

The penny dropped for Helly as the hands of the 'police officer' moved to his top button, a sly smile finally appearing on his once serious face at the cheers that erupted around him. She stepped closer without meaning to, the dread that had filled her body completely dissipated as she was able to appreciate this ridiculous performance for what it truly was.

The man kept unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his eyes trained on his target as he did so. A stray spotlight landed on the man just as his upper chest was exposed, revealing a smattering of dark hair.

Helly couldn't help but join in with the chorus of cheers, shoving her phone in her back pocket so she could clap along to the thumping beat of the music.

As soon as the officer was finished with the last button and his shirt was left fully open, he moved his hand to unhook a pair of pink furry handcuffs from his duty belt, leaning in towards Matthew to speak directly to him.

"You've been a bad boy." The words were said in a deep tone, but still incredibly playful. The man placed a hand on one of Matthew's forearms, tearing his hand away from his hip.

Then, he suddenly stopped, the smile slipping and instead making way for worry. "Hey, are you okay?" He took a step back and leaned down towards his adoring subject.

Helly turned to look at Matthew, seeing that all the joviality and bravado had left him, his entire face a sickly pale and eyes wide.

"They're just a dumb prop," the other man said, voice now soft, "I don't have to use them-"

"It's not-" Matthew began, then swallowed thickly, "I'm fine-" As soon as the word was out, it was evident that he was not, in fact, fine. He sprang up from the chair, his shoulder knocking the other man's as he darted in the direction of the bathroom with immense speed.

The whole crowd watched him depart, falling into a relative silence as the song suddenly stopped with a sharp scratch.

One of the women wearing a sash that said 'Dancing Diva' in purple cursive letters shouted out to no one in particular as she ran after him, "I fucking told you the shots were too much!"

The door to the corridor swung shut behind her, leaving everyone else in an awkward silence, unsure what the next course of action was.

The man in the uniform clapped his hands once, bringing the attention back to him, "Right, let's… resume the party for a while? He'll come back when he's ready."

The DJ took the cue, starting up the music again. After a few seconds, everyone went back to normal: singing along badly, flocking to the dance floor, taking selfies with the penis themed props.

Helly kept watching the man as he ran a hand over his face, then hooked the handcuffs back on his belt. He buttoned up his shirt, looking around the room awkwardly once he was done, his gaze settling on the bar.

Her eyes followed him, intrigued by the way he blended in with the crowd, especially considering how he was the centre of attention only moments ago.

"Can I have a beer?" She heard the man call out to the bartender as he held out a hand to get her attention, "Whatever's on tap."

The blonde woman behind the bar nodded at him, grabbing a glass from a cabinet underneath the counter.

"Shit, actually," he said quickly, sitting down on one of the bar stools, "Do you have any non-alcoholic beer?"

The bartender did a brief double take, but nodded, taking a can out of the fridge, the object letting out a sharp hiss as it opened.

"Just like that is fine, thanks." He said, one hand outstretched to grab the can as the other fixed his shirt collar.

He took three large gulps then turned around to watch the crowd, looking around like he was lost.

A feeling that Helly knew all too well.

She walked up to the bar, hopping up onto the stool next to him, her black boots hitting the metal bar with a thud.

"So," she began with an innocent smile, "do people usually throw up right after they see your nipples?"

The man looked surprised at the fact that someone was interacting with him, taking a couple of moments to register her question. Once he did, he nodded, his expression neutral.

"Oh, yeah, that's why I was hired," he answered easily, voice flat, "It's actually on my resume. Absolutely repugnant nipples."

Helly tilted her head to the side as if she was considering something, a strand of hair falling towards her face and getting caught on the dark red lipstick that stained her mouth.

"I didn't think they were that bad," she admitted, giving a reassuring smile as she flicked her hair back over her shoulder, the shorter pieces immediately falling forward again.

He gave a curt nod at the praise, "Such flattery will get you everywhere."

"Will it get me a drink?" Helly rebutted without hesitation.

The man regarded her for a second, simply staring, his look unreadable.

Helly fought not to squirm under his intensity, instead tipping her chin up in confidence.

One side of his lips finally pulled up into a smile, "Sure, what's your poison?"

She couldn't help but smile too, "Cocktails with stupid names."

He raised an eyebrow, and Helly didn't know if he was surprised or impressed. Either way, she liked it.

"A woman of taste," he muttered, almost more to himself, before turning back to the bartender, "Excuse me, one Naked and Famous, please."

The woman got to work, grabbing a bottle of gin, as Helly gave the man a questioning look, having never even heard of this cocktail before, let alone tried it. They both watched as it was made, Helly grasping the stem of the glass when it was passed to her, eyeing the bright orange liquid suspiciously.

She brought the drink to her mouth, taking a bold sip. Her lips puckered at the bitter lime juice first, and then she was hit with the alcohol.

"Oh, fuck, that's disgusting," Helly said, not caring that the bartender who made it for her was still in earshot.

The man looked almost crestfallen, "Shit, sorry, I'll order you a different one-"

"No, I love it," she said, grinning before she braced for another taste, a shiver going down her spine as she swallowed.

"Sure, okay," he replied, amused.

The two settled into a silence as they both turned on their stools to watch the guests on the dance floor in front of them, all moving together like some kind of hivemind. They sipped on their respective drinks, Helly's legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly.

She was the one to speak first.

"So, is Goodbody your birth name or…?" She asked, trailing off.

He matched her without question, "Oh, yeah, my Mom fucking hated me."

Helly nodded in mock sympathy, "Before or after she saw your gross baby nipples?"

He leaned in closer to her, deepening his voice to sound intimidating, "Leave my gross baby nipples out of this."

She leaned in too, looking at him defiantly, "I'll say what I like about your gross baby nipples."

He glanced around them, seemingly relieved that the bartender had moved elsewhere to serve a group of rambunctious girls, "Can we stop saying 'gross baby nipples'?"

"Absolutely not," Helly shook her head with a mischievous grin, "I've decided it's going to be the name of my pop punk band."

A laugh escaped his throat, and Helly couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at being the cause.

"My name's Mark." He finally confessed.

"Mark," Helly repeated slowly, as if trying out the feel of the name on her tongue, "Not quite as stripper-y."

He hummed in response, taking a sip of his beer.

She supposed that turnabout was fair play, "I'm Helly."

"Is that even a name?" Mark asked, his eyes narrowing at her.

"Better name than Goodbody." She said resolutely.

He gave a small nod, "It's a low bar."

"So you didn't get to pick it?" She surmised, having another sip of her cocktail, that time barely wincing as she became accustomed to the taste.

A shake of the head, "No, I don't get to pick anything except the clients."

Helly leaned backwards as much as she could without losing her balance, raking her eyes across his form shamelessly, from his unkempt dark hair to his scuffed trainers and back up. "Do you only do parties for guys?"

Mark didn't shy away from her, an amused smirk appearing, "What are you asking?"

Helly had spent a lifetime needing to hide, and vowed to always be bold nowadays instead. "Are you into guys?"

He seemed surprised by her lack of tact, but still answered her, "No, I'm boringly straight."

"Hmm," Helly said simply, bringing her drink to her lips again, "Good."

"'Good'?" He echoed, cocking an eyebrow.

She didn't offer an explanation, "But you still do parties for guys?"

Mark let her breeze past it, resting an elbow against the bar as he settled in, "I almost prefer it. My sister is bi and always says that I must be too, but I'm just struggling with compulsive heterosexuality."

Helly had no idea what the term meant, but nodded along regardless as she took another swig.

He leaned closer to her, as if telling her a secret at a slumber party, his voice lowered, "Usually, the guys are better behaved than the girls."

As if on cue, a gaggle of girls screeched as a new song began, jumping up and down in excitement.

Helly shrugged, pursing her lips, "I can believe that."

"One time," Mark began, his voice returning to normal volume but still staying close to her, "a girl ripped my pants off so aggressively that my underwear was ripped too."

Helly laughed loudly at the image, "Lucky day for the bride-to-be."

Mark scoffed indignantly, "Not a lucky fucking day for me. I had to waddle to the bathroom holding the two sides of my underwear together so I didn't flash the whole party."

She laughed again, and this time, Mark couldn't help but join in.

"Speaking of the bathroom," Mark said once he'd stopped, "you think your friend's okay?"

Helly shrugged, "He's not really my friend. Just a guy on my course."

He regarded her, seemingly intrigued, "What do you study?"

"Art." Helly answered, preparing herself for the barrage of questions that usually followed.

He didn't follow her script, instead saying, "I'm a history major."

Her face turned to one of surprise, "You're a student?"

"What?" He said, smiling incredulously, "You thought I was a full time stripper?"

"Until the thrusting, I thought you were a full time cop." She confessed, silently hoping that he wouldn't think she was naive.

He let out a noise between a snort and a scoff, his free hand gesturing down to his outfit, "In this?"

"Money's tight," Helly reasoned, taking a sip as he chuckled, accepting her thinking with a shrug.

Once again, the music began to blend into another song, this one evidently not as popular as people began to evacuate the dance floor to get more food and drinks.

"I haven't heard this song in ages," Mark said, sounding almost wistful.

Helly watched as a smile tugged at his mouth, so wide that it caused wrinkles to appear next to his eyes.

"Wanna dance?" She invited, tilting her head towards the large area with only a few guests left.

For the first time that night, Helly saw Mark look hesitant, thumb fiddling with the tab on his can, "I can't dance."

She let out a huff, "Your moves from earlier beg to differ."

A pink hue began to appear on his cheeks, this time not caused by the lights, "That's not real dancing."

Helly hopped down from the bar stool, not taking no for an answer, "Then come to worst, you can do that kind of dancing with me."

Mark looked at her in disbelief, stammering a "You- What?"

She put her mostly finished drink down on a bar mat, then plucked his from his hand. Upon shaking it, she felt a slosh of liquid left at the bottom. She brought the lip of the can to her mouth, tipping it up and draining the last few sips, then crushed it and put it down next to her glass.

Mark's jaw went slack as he watched her, transfixed.

She threw in a wink for good measure, thankful for his stunned silence instead of him putting up a fight. She reached down to take his hand, gently tugging him up to standing and walking them both towards the dance floor, him trailing dutifully behind her.

Once they reached the middle of the floor, she turned to face him as she began to dance effortlessly to the music, her hips swaying and hands running through her hair.

Mark simply watched as he stood still, eyes darting around her body like he didn't know where to look.

Helly smirked at his reaction, leaning forward to ensure she could be heard when she spoke, the large speakers now in closer proximity.

"I brought you here to dance." She said, trying to sound convincing.

Mark nodded, taking a quick look around the area, averting his gaze to the ground when a girl wolf-whistled at him.

Helly couldn't quite believe the juxtaposition - how could a man who so confidently practically humped the air with everyone watching him be so self-conscious about dancing with her? She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing, knowing that wouldn't help the situation.

Still looking at the ground, Mark finally started to move. First, he simply stepped from foot to foot in time with the beat, finding his rhythm. After a few seconds, his arms joined in, swaying from side to side in a manner that reminded Helly of marching.

The giggles that she was trying to hold back erupted to the surface before she could stop them.

Mark scowled as he looked up at her, his arms dropping, "Don't laugh at me-"

Helly did exactly the opposite, shaking her head affectionately, "You look like a toddler who's just discovered his hips."

"Fuck off." Mark grumbled, rolling his eyes at her comparison.

It was only when Helly saw his cheeks turning even redder that she took pity on him.

"Here," she said, moving a step closer to grasp his forearms and pull them around her waist.

Mark's eyes widened slightly as she adjusted his position, swallowing thickly.

Helly let go of his arms and wrapped her own around his shoulders, one hand hovering just above the hairs at the back of his neck. She raised up onto her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to his ear to be heard over the music as she spoke.

"Dance with me, Mark."

She felt his shuddering breath against her cheek as his hands landed properly on her waist, his pinkies brushing against the exposed skin between her crop top and high waisted jeans.

The song changed to something more upbeat, but Helly kept her hips moving slowly, canting them towards him.

Mark's body mirrored hers, even if it was in a more stiff manner.

"There you go," Helly praised, grinning, "You're getting the hang of it."

Mark huffed, a chuckle caught in his throat, "You're not making it easy."

Helly stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, "Am I making it hard?"

He barked out a surprised laugh, "Not yet."

"Promises, promises." She tutted.

Mark stepped ever so slightly closer as his hands slowly moved down her body then settled on her hips, grasping tighter than he had been before as they moved beneath him.

Helly smirked, excited by the fact that he'd seemed to have gotten some of his confidence back.

"You know," Mark said, his gaze settling on her swaying hips, "I should arrest you for these."

Helly rolled her eyes so hard that she was surprised she didn't give herself a headache, but still played along, "On what grounds, officer?" She asked, trying her best to make her eyes wide and innocent when she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Mark was silent for a moment, mouth pulled to the side as he thought, then finally arrived at an answer, "Weapons of mass distraction."

She laughed loudly, ducking her head forward as she did so, selfishly wanting to be even closer.

"And what's the charge?" She hesitated for a short moment, hoping she wasn't misreading the situation, "A night in the slammer?"

"At least." He agreed easily, nodding along.

Her heart rate picked up as he accepted her proposal, though she had a feeling that he hadn't completely understood, so she tried again, "Is there any way I could convince you to modify that? Maybe spend the night somewhere else, as long as I have a law enforcement officer watching over me?"

Mark's face suddenly began serious as he stopped moving completely, "Wait, you- really?"

Helly couldn't help but chuckle as he finally reached the same page as her. Her mind supplied her with a way that she could ensure her intentions were crystal clear, just in case.

The hand resting on the back of his neck pulled him down until he was at her height, allowing her to easily press her lips against his. She could taste the beer on him, distantly aware of the fact that she must've tasted of alcohol and pizza.

Luckily, it didn't seem to be a hindrance for her partner as he wrapped his arms around her tightly to bring her closer, one hand boldly making its way underneath her shirt and trailing across her upper back.

She moved the hand on his shoulder to his cheek instead, swiping her thumb against the stubble, savouring the roughness as his head tilted. The feeling of his nose pressing awkwardly into her face made Helly giggle against his mouth.

Mark pulled away just enough to look at her, his lips now rosy red from her lipstick, "Something funny?"

She shook her head, not even bothering with a quip before kissing him again, this time playfully teasing her tongue against his mouth, his resulting groan making her heart rate climb.

His tongue met hers, a delicious mix of push and pull. Her hand on his shoulder moved around to press against his chest, one finger catching on the ridiculous plastic badge on it's journey.

His hands began to wander too, instead moving downwards just enough that they were grazing the top of her ass, prompting her to grind her hips towards his, both of them letting out a moan.

With herculean effort, Helly pulled away, her chest heaving with short, fast breaths as she tried to focus. Once she did, she couldn’t help but laugh at the state of him, all mussed hair and stained lips.

"We should get out of here before we're actually arrested for public indecency." She reasoned, her voice slightly raspy as she wiped at her own mouth, sure that it looked similar to his.

Mark opened his mouth to reply, then looked around for the first time in a while, regaining his senses, "I don't know if I can leave yet, I haven't actually done my job-"

Helly slowly trailed a finger along the underside of his jaw, leaning in, "Break a rule for once, Officer Goodbody-"

He snickered at the moniker, lowering his head to press a quick kiss to her hand, "You're trouble."

Helly gasped, pretending to be affronted, "Is that what they say about me down at the station?"

Mark laughed, running a hand down her arm until his hand met hers, interlacing their fingers, "Come on, I'm taking you downtown."

"Yes, sir." Helly giggled, letting herself be taken towards the exit, excited to see what kind of punishment he had lined up for her.

Maybe it could involve the pink furry handcuffs.

~~~~~~~~~~

....i don't even know anymore