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

The man began first, "Could you please tell my sister that she shouldn't get a tattoo so soon after giving birth-"

"Tell my brother that my doctor said I could get a tattoo-" The woman rebuked instantly.

Helly regarded the woman closely. A long brown coat covered most of her body, so she hoped she wouldn't take offence at the question. "How long ago did you give birth?"

"Seven months, three weeks and two days." She replied confidently.

"Not that you're counting or anything-" the man next to her grumbled under his breath.

Helly ignored him, "And you mentioned that your doctor okayed it?"

"Yes, she did." She nodded firmly.

Helly nodded back, "Then I'm happy to continue to a pre-procedure questionnaire to ask further-"

"Get fucked, we're getting tats, boy!" The woman all but shouted in glee, smacking his bicep in excitement.

The man rested his elbows on the top of the counter, putting his head in his hands as he let out an extended groan.

The woman flicked her hand dismissively at the theatrics, "I've been bugging him to get a tattoo with me since we were in our teens, and he said that we could get them as soon as I could-"

He lifted his head to glare at her, "You were in active labour, I was saying anything to make you happy."

She shrugged with a smirk, "Still counts."

"I wish you'd died during childbirth." The man said flatly, eyes narrowed at his sister.

Helly couldn't help but feel a little taken aback at the dark nature of their relationship. Was this what having a sibling was like?

The woman simply rolled her eyes, unaffected, "So, these questionnaires?"

~~~~~

Both of the customers had filled out their paperwork together on the deep purple waiting room sofa whilst Helly busied herself with getting them some beverages: a peppermint tea for her and a soda for him.

She poked her head into the backroom to let her only employee know that they'd had two walk-ins, and he practically jumped up from his reclined position at the thought of actually getting some work done. It had been slow going since Helly had opened up 'Just A Little Prick' a couple of months back, but she loved every single piece that she got to work on, even if they were sometimes few and far between.

She joined the two siblings, happy that they seemed to have calmed down a little, even if the man was still pouting. She held a hand out to collect their papers, quickly reading through them both. There were no issues at all, and they'd both signed their consent at the bottom, even the less enthusiastic one.

"Right," Helly said brightly, "Devon, you're going to be with my colleague Phoenix."

The man in question smiled and waved at her from across the room with one hand, the other hand already setting out the necessary tools.

"Which means," she continued, "Mark, you're with me."

Devon sprang up from the sofa - a feat considering how low it was - tapping Mark's knee as she did so. "See you on the other side."

Mark simply scowled at her in reply as she flounced away.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Helly perched on the sofa next to him. She tried to sit as far away as possible to be polite and professional, but the soft cushions did their best to pull them into each other and meet in the middle.

"I just wanna check," Helly began, looking at his face sincerely, "you're okay with this, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Mark's eyebrows raised at her words, his mouth opening and shutting a couple of times before he replied, "Yeah. I- I know. Honestly, I'm good with it. I'm mostly just complaining to piss her off and make her feel bad."

Helly looked over to where Devon was, prompting Mark to do the same. As soon as the siblings locked eyes, she flipped him off with a large cheery grin.

Helly couldn't help but chuckle, "Yeah, I don't think that's working out so well for you."

He huffed, looking back at her, "I guess not." He rubbed the back of his neck, "Thanks for, uh, checking in though. Appreciate it."

"Just doing my job." she shrugged with a smile, "Speaking of which, shall we get started?"

Mark let out a sigh, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. The words were muffled by it when he replied, "Let's fucking do it."

~~~~~

After a long, long time convincing Mark that he wouldn't contract a disease, that the forearm was one of the least painful places to get tattooed, that he couldn't get sick from the carcinogens in the ink (she'd never heard that one before, but apparently the internet was full of misinformation), he was finally lying back on the chair, his old Ganz university hoodie discarded on the floor whilst Helly wiped his right forearm.

"So," Helly began, well versed in distracting nervous clients, "any meaning behind the tattoo?"

Mark let out a shaky laugh, keeping his eyes trained on the colourful fairy lights that decorated the top of the wall in front of him. "We- uh- have called each other 'm'lord' and 'm'lady' since we were kids after we heard it in some movie set in England in the 1800s. We had the idea on her 18th birthday, but all the tattoo artists kept turning us away for being too drunk-"

Helly chuckled, all too familiar with that situation. The last one had been a drunk middle-aged man wanting his wife's name written across his chest so that she 'would take back the divorce papers'.

"Do lords even wear crowns?" She asked, as she gently swept her fingers over the template on his arm, the crown that Devon had drawn for him.

"Oh, no, I'm the Lady." He said seriously, looking up at her with a straight face.

"Oh, duh." She replied, rolling her eyes. She peeled off the paper to see that the stencil had transferred successfully, discarding it. "Remember, we can stop any time you want, you can take a breather, and I can always grab you a drink or some snacks-"

He shook his head, defiant, "I'll be fine."

Her head tilted to the side as she regarded him, "There's no need to be all macho about it-" she said, a slight lilt of teasing.

"There is when my sister is right over there," he replied quietly, gesturing to the opposite side of the shop where the other two were behind a privacy screen, Devon currently telling Phoenix about a girl she'd hooked up with in college and how many tattoos she had (and how sexy they were).

"I mean it," Helly said, trying to make sure that this sibling feud didn't end up in him getting genuinely hurt, "Just keep telling me how you're feeling, okay?"

Mark looked at her properly, realising how serious she was, "Yeah, I will."

"So…" she dragged the word out, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Oh. Uh, feeling… a bit nervous, but ready to get this over with." He said honestly.

She nodded in approval, "Then let's get started."

Mark took in a sharp inhale at her words, but said nothing else. Helly moved closer on her stool, dipping the needle into the black ink and hunching her back to get as close as she could to the skin. His cologne wafted into her nose: warm and woodsy and slightly spiced. His chest rose and fell underneath his grey band t-shirt at a rate normal enough for Helly not to be concerned.

"Ready?" She said softly, watching his face carefully for any hesitation as she placed her free hand gently on his wrist to keep his arm steady.

He closed his eyes tightly, as if he was getting a shot at the doctors, "As I'll ever be."

"You know, Devon is right," she said, doing her best to keep his mind away from the tattoo, "lots of people find tattoos sexy-"

"Is that why you have them?" He asked, his voice slightly lower than it had been before.

Helly chuckled, the warm air tickling his forearm as she lowered the tattoo gun. She had a couple on display today even in her winter clothes: a bird flying out of a cage on her right forearm, a royal blue butterfly on her other arm's inner wrist, a constellation just underneath her left collarbone.

"I have them because it was an act of rebellion against my father-"

As soon as the needle made contact with his skin, Mark yanked his arm away as best as he could, making Helly almost fall on top of him as her free hand went with him.

"Shit-" she hissed, recalibrating herself, "don't do that-"

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly, panicked and self-conscious.

She regretted the harsh tone she'd used in her surprise, taking a breath before she spoke again, retracting her hand, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, all good. Great." He sat upright, his eyes darting around the room, "I just need to go walk around or something."

Helly frowned at him, trying to see his face, "I really wouldn't-"

"Just gotta-" he swallowed thickly as he all but slinked off the chair like a worm, his breathing rapid, "Gotta walk. It's fine-"

"Mark," she said in a low tone, trying to sound authoritative, "You need to sit down-"

"I'm… good-" he all but mumbled, his legs shaky like a newborn fawn.

Helly pushed the cart holding the tattoo gun and inks as far away as she could as she jumped up, putting a hand on each of his biceps to steady him. "Sit. Now."

His eyes were unfocused and glassy as he turned to her, seemingly surprised at how close she suddenly was. His mouth opened, ready to speak, but before he could, his eyes fluttered as he crumpled to the ground, taking the tattooist with him.

~~~~~

Mark opened his eyes then immediately shut them again, bringing a hand over them to block the bright light boring into his retinas. He groaned at the fuzzy feeling in his head, involuntarily reminding him of all those nights in college where he'd had one too many drinks (and the nights after college too).

"Good morning, sunshine." A feminine voice next to him piped up.

His heart stuttered in his chest. Had he… slept with someone? He knew it had been a while since he'd been laid - as Devon loved to constantly remind him - but he wouldn't just get blackout drunk and fuck some stranger, would he?

He took a breath to steel himself for whatever he was about to see, then turned towards the direction her voice had come from and opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that she had a shit-eating grin.

The next was that she was… fully clothed? (Well, if jeans with more holes than fabric counted as clothed).

He looked down at himself to find that he was also clothed. And had his legs propped up in the air against a leather chair.

He groaned loudly, throwing his head back against the hard floor with a soft thump.

"Tattoo." He said simply.

"Yep." Helly replied, "You didn't tell me how you were feeling like I told you to. Tried to be all macho, and instead you fainted like a medieval princess."

He turned to look at her, unsure what he was going to quip back with when his brain still felt like jelly.

"Why are you on the floor too?"

She gave a wide smile, eyes teasing, "I laid down next to you so everyone would think we were chilling."

Mark hummed at the explanation, a chuckle beginning to bubble up.

"And, you know, that you didn't pass out at the first touch of a tattoo gun." She said snarkily, seemingly enjoying the situation far too much for his liking.

He raised his arm to look at the tattoo, relieved to see the line work fully completed, "At least you finished it."

"Honey, I didn't even start it." Helly brought her thumb up to her mouth, licked it, then ran it against the 'tattoo'. The ink rubbed off immediately.

Mark looked back up at the ceiling, groaning again as he felt Helly's touch still rubbing against the skin.

"Actually," she said after a few moments, moving her hand away, "if you wanna say that this is the tattoo-"

He looked at where she'd rubbed off the stencil to find absolutely nothing there. "Wh-"

"Look closer." She said, barely hiding a giggle.

He brought his arm closer, blinking his eyes to try and dispel the spots in his vision. Finally, he saw the tattoo. A tiny black dot.

Helly spoke again, "We could say it's planet Earth, as seen from a great distance."

Mark let out an amused huff, "Or a baby flea."

"Or-"

Another voice piped up from above them.

"Oh, bud, what happened?"

They looked up to see Devon standing there, her left forearm wrapped in clear plastic with a fully finished crown tattoo underneath, looking exactly as Mark had drawn it.

Mark explained, "Turns out my body has an adverse reaction to repeatedly being used as a pin cushion."

Helly spoke quietly, but loud enough that they could all hear, "'Repeatedly' is a bit generous."

He jabbed his elbow into her, (using a lot less force than he would with his sister), "Fuck off and get me another soda."

Helly's mouth opened in shock, but still showed a smile, "Customer's always right, I guess." She sat up with grace, walking towards the back of the studio.

Devon waited until she'd gone behind a door to speak, narrowing her eyes at Mark, "What's that about?"

Mark blinked at her, his head still swimming, "What's what about?"

"That." Devon repeated, as if that would help.

He stared up at her blankly.

Devon rolled her eyes in exasperation, "You two."

Mark looked towards the direction that Helly had gone. Then back at Devon. Then repeated it. By the time he looked at her again, her arms were crossed and her gaze was suspicious.

"I just fully lost consciousness for the first time since Roger Mulligan beat me up for standing up for you after he called you a dyke, I'm gonna need you to make more sense." Mark closed his eyes once more, rubbing them forcefully.

He heard Devon's clothing move as she moved closer to him, some joint in her body clicking loudly as she sat down next to him. Her cold hand brushed his hair out of his face, and he couldn't help but instinctively lean in to the comforting touch.

"It's okay," Devon said, her voice softer than he'd heard all day, the one she usually reserved for her newborn baby, "You don't have to get one."

"But we said-" Mark began to protest, but was cut off.

"That was before your body basically self destructed."

He couldn't help but laugh at the terminology, "God, I'm pathetic."

"Nah-" Devon said, before backtracking, "Well, sometimes. But not for this."

He opened his eyes to look at his sister properly, "Yeah?"

"Let's go get some delicious, greasy as fuck food, and then we can figure out if you wanna try this again." Devon patted his bare forearm, "Maybe next time I'll stay with you and feed you grapes the whole time, like the queen you are, m'lady."

"Sounds goo- Wait." He frowned at her, "We have to wait for Helly, she's getting a soda for me-"

"Oh of course we have to wait for Helly," Devon replied, rolling her eyes.

There was something implied in her tone, but Mark was too out of it to even begin to decipher it. He didn't understand his sister at the best of times anyway.

~~~~~

Helly hummed along to the upbeat rock music playing from her speaker as she set about closing up the shop, going through her mental checklist of tasks. She'd had one other customer after Mark and Devon, who's appointment thankfully went a lot less dramatically.

She found herself thinking back to the man she'd met earlier, reliving their conversations in her mind as she vacuumed the floor. She wasn't sure she'd ever found talking with someone as effortless as she had with him, especially for someone she'd only just met. She wondered if their paths would ever cross again.

Devon had said that she'd be bringing him back, but she somehow couldn't quite believe that he'd ever set foot in her shop again.

Over the sound of the vacuum and the music, Helly thought she heard a distant banging. She switched off the vacuum, scanning her eyes around the empty surroundings. She'd sent Phoenix home over an hour ago - she actually found clearing up by herself quite therapeutic - so she knew it wasn't him.

The banging began to increase in volume, and Helly felt a chill go through her veins.

Kier wasn't exactly the most crime-ridden town, but it was already dark outside, and the floor to ceiling windows next to the front door looked out onto a main street.

She placed the vacuum down on the floor and instead picked up the glass vase that sat on the coffee table in the waiting room, grateful that she'd forgotten to buy new flowers for it after the last ones had started to wilt. She practised lifting the vase above her head and swinging it down in one swift motion, happy that it would be enough to at least temporarily slow down another person.

She took careful steps towards the front of the parlour, breath stuttering when she saw the silhouette of a man pounding a fist on the door. He was hunched, swaying slightly from foot to foot and…

Wearing a Ganz University hoodie?

Helly squinted at the man's face, letting out a sigh that was equal parts relief and frustration when she recognised him.

She hurried towards the door, not convinced that his fist wouldn't go straight through the glass if he kept knocking so hard. Moving the vase under one arm, she swung the door open, a cool breeze blowing back the strands of hair that had fallen out of her bun after a full day of hurrying around.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She hissed.

Mark's face positively lit up as his bleary eyes focused on her after a few seconds of delay.

"I'm ready to be poked now!" He yelled, raising his arms up as if he was cheering at a stadium, his hoodie moving up with them to show a sliver of his lower stomach.

"Fucking hell," Helly grabbed his forearm, pulling him inside and closing and locking the door behind them.

"Hey, careful!" He whined, voice still too loud, "I got a tattoo there earlier, it hurts!"

She raked her eyes up and down him. Hair falling down against his forehead. His frame waving side to side like he was on a boat. The smell of… some mix of alcohol emanating from him.

"You're drunk." She said, folding her arms.

Mark seemed to deflate at her dismayed reaction, "I didn't mean to be. Devon and Ricken had this no-dinner dinner thing, and to apologise for how shit it was, Dev took me out to a bar for a drink and some food, but then it was too late so the kitchen was closed, and then we had some more drinks to celebrate her first tattoo and her birthing a baby, and then Ricken picked us up and I was lying in bed and I was just thinking about how I let her down by not getting the matching tattoo, and I knew she'd hold it over me until I got one and- can I sit on your sofa again? It's really comfortable."

Helly blinked as she took in all of the information, then finally replied, "Yeah, sure."

He strolled over, flopping down onto it face first with a heavy sigh.

"I'm gonna call your sister, okay?" Helly said, voice now soft. She was powerless to be mad at him when he looked this helpless, his nose pressed against the cushion.

"Mm, tell her I'm gonna… tat." He mumbled, eyes closed.

"Sure," Helly lied, leaving him where he was to go find the paperwork Devon had completed earlier, hoping she'd left a contact number.

Helly skim-read the paper until her eyes settled on the phone number listed next to 'Ricken Hale - Husband' under emergency contact. She had no earthly clue what a 'no-dinner dinner' was, but whoever this man was, hopefully he would understand that his brother-in-law needed a lift, even if he had to drag himself out of the house at this late hour.

She switched off the music and dialled the number from her phone, biting her lower lip as she listened to the rings droning on. Whilst waiting, she slowly walked back towards Mark.

He was still in the exact same position, but his body was now more slack as he let out loud snores against the fabric of the sofa, mouth hanging open.

Helly couldn't help but smile at the sight, his smushed face reminding her of an old wrinkly dog. When she finally reached the voicemail - which was the most pretentious voicemail message she'd ever heard - she hung up, deciding that it wasn't worth waking him up.

She kicked off her heavy boots and laid down on the adjacent couch, tucking her hands under her head as she stretched out her legs. It wasn't the first time she'd slept in the studio, and the couch was about as comfy as the cheap mattress in her rental apartment anyway, given that she'd spent more money on the shop than her own furnishings.

She closed her eyes, falling asleep with a smile on her face at the amusing sound of Mark's snuffles.

~~~~~

Mark awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and a crick in his neck, groaning loudly as he tried to stretch out his body, his feet hitting something as he did so.

He opened his eyes to see that he was face down on a purple sofa, his arms crushed beneath him.

"Good morning, sunshine." A voice teased from above.

Where had he heard that before?

A shadow cast over his face, and when he turned towards it, he opened his eyes to see his tattoo artist looking down at him with a smirk, holding out a black mug with 'tattoo dad' written in capitals with a drawing of a skull behind it.

"Hi?" He said, voice raspy and low. He sat up with a great effort, clutching the coffee like it was a lifeline, "Thanks."

Helly picked up her own mug from the table, this one with an upwards arrow and the text 'tattoo wanker' emblazoned underneath. Where the hell did she find these?

He asked a different question instead, "Why am I here?"

Helly hummed, breathing in the steam from her coffee, "That's a deep question for 6am."

"6am?!" He exclaimed, the volume of his own voice making his head pound, "Why did you wake me up?"

"Because I need to kick you out, go home, shower, change clothes and be back here for 8 so I can actually use this shop for it's intended purpose instead of homing drunk men?" She took a sip, raising her eyebrows at him as she did so.

"Fuck-" he ran a hand over his face, rubbing one of his eyes, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking-"

"If I remember correctly," Helly replied with a smirk, "you were thinking - and I quote -" she lifted her arms as he had done, "'I'm ready to be poked now!'"

Mark groaned loudly at the memory.

Helly continued, revelling in his misery, "Which, I must say, is a pick up line I will be using in the future."

Another groan.

"But I did exactly as you asked, and you didn't even pass out this time-"

Mark's eyes snapped open, "What?"

Helly gave him an innocent smile, "Well, you were so drunk that I thought you wouldn't feel it, and therefore you'd handle it better, and I was right!"

Mark moved his mug to one hand, some of the coffee spilling over the rim, and pulled up his hoodie sleeve to the forearm he'd wanted to get tattooed, but it was still blank except for the tiny dot.

"No, not that tattoo. You decided on a different one."

His stomach dropped like a lead balloon, "W-What did I get?"

"See for yourself," Helly put down her mug on the coffee table and picked up a handheld mirror that was helpfully already set out, sitting next to him as she held it out, "It's on your lower back-"

"My-!?!" Mark snatched the mirror from her hand quick as lightening, lifting up the back of his hoodie and baulking at the sight. It was a pink, glittery-

"Horse?" He exclaimed, staring into the mirror for a clearer image.

"Unicorn," Helly corrected easily.

"Why the fuck would I get that?!" Mark asked in a shrill tone.

She frowned at his reaction, "You said… something about your niece? And how she'd like it?"

He rubbed frantically at the area, "Holy shit- I can't believe- What the fuck am I going to-"

A loud cackle escaped Helly's lips, her whole body curling up from the force of it.

Mark could almost hear the penny drop in his head, letting it hang forward. "Right. So you're evil. Got it."

"Oh my god," she wiped tears from her eyes as she kept laughing, "Obviously I wouldn't tattoo a drunk person-"

"What is it, then?" He asked, still scratching at it.

"A temporary tattoo that we give kids when they come in with family members." She answered with a satisfied grin.

Mark practically threw the mirror down, folding his arms as he tried to give the impression that he was a lot angrier than he was, even though they both knew his lips were curling upwards.

"I'm giving you a one star review."

Helly placed a hand on her chest, letting out a fake gasp, "Ooh, I'm quaking in my boots-"

"I'm gonna get your business shut down on account of… unethical practice on customers."

"I don't get why you're mad about that amazing piece," Helly said breezily, "Like your sister said, tattoos are sexy. You're gonna get all the girls with that." She looked at him, scanning his face, "Or guys. Whatever you want."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, but still gave an answer, "Girls. Or just one girl really. Not into the whole… casual dating thing."

"Aww, a traditionalist," Helly cooed, as if he'd just said that he sheltered orphaned puppies in his spare time, "Makes sense when you're so old-"

Mark leaned back as if he'd been physically struck, "I'm not old-"

"I saw your date of birth on the form, you're basically ancient-"

"Using that against me is a breach of confidentiality or something-"

Helly completely ignored him, "I should've given you a Werther's original after you passed out yesterday-"

"Oh, good one, classic-" He rolled his eyes, enduring the relentless taunting.

"Given you the morning paper to read while I was tattooing you-"

"Okay-"

"I didn't even check if you could still be tattooed when you're taking those special blue pills to help your little soldier stand to attention whe-"

Helly's teasing was cut short by his lips pressing against hers hurriedly.

She gasped in surprise then, as soon as her brain caught up, she quickly realigned her mouth against his, moving closer to him (which came naturally thanks to the sofa constantly pulling them towards each other).

Mark retreated, leaving just a few centimetres between them, "Sorry-" he whispered, "I just wanted to shut you up."

Helly laughed, her breath tickling his face, "Feel free to shut me up like that any time."

Mark raised an eyebrow at her, "Yeah?"

She reassured him by kissing him again, this time holding his face in her hands, the night's stubble deliciously scratching her palms.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, one thumb brushing just above the waistline of her jeans to skim against her warm skin, the small touch still igniting a fire in her stomach as she gasped, giving him the opportunity to gently brush his tongue against her upper lip.

She pressed as close as she could get, needing as much contact as possible as their mouths stayed connected, one hand winding to the back of his neck to bring him closer, his nose squished against her cheek. Still not content, she swung one leg around to settle herself on his lap, giggling at the instantaneous moan that tumbled out of him.

"Fuck off," he breathed against her mouth, "it's been a while."

Helly's heart swelled at his vulnerability, pulling back to brush his hair softly out of his face, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you, old man-"

He shut her up exactly as he wanted to, already addicted to doing so. His arms tightened around her, one hand skimming up her side, making her shiver deliciously as she gasped. The other hand joined not long after, mesmerised by the reactions he was causing.

"Can I-" he whispered, holding the hem of her shirt.

She grabbed the hem and tugged it off herself, throwing the item haphazardly behind them, letting it land on a lampshade.

"The key word there was 'I'," he said, but the complaint was forgotten as soon as his eyes looked at her torso.

She was wearing a white, lacy bra, but his attention was more drawn to the tattoo of ivy trailing all up her left side, intricately weaving and looping across the span of the top of her ribcage to her hip.

He pressed a kiss to the top, relishing in the noise she made, halfway between a laugh and a moan. He continued the trail down and down, not planning on stopping for anything-

Until a loud banging noise reverberated around them.

The two sprang back, Helly almost falling off of him if he hadn't been holding her so tightly. They both looked in the direction of the noise to find Devon at the door, face watching so closely that her nose was practically pressed up against the glass.

"Jesus fucking Christ-" Mark groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa cushion in exasperation.

"I know," Helly agreed, clambering off of him with shaky legs, "What is it with the Scout siblings knocking on my door when I'm closed?"

"Yeah," he said sardonically, "that's the real problem right now."

Helly tilted her head in question, until she saw Mark readjusting himself as he shuffled awkwardly, a bright red flush covering the apples of his cheeks.

Helly smirked as she went towards the door, not even bothering to pick up her shirt on the way. She unlocked the door with a professional smile.

"Here for tattoo after care advice?" She greeted with a sweet smile.

"Here to wallop my idiot brother," Devon said, charging past Helly without a second thought.

Mark tried to look as put together as possible, even with fast breaths, blushing cheeks and a black sequined cushion strategically placed on his lap. "What's up?"

Devon scowled at him, "What's up is I woke up to feed Eleanor and found a note on your race car bed saying," she rummaged in her coat pocket, pulling out a fish shaped post-it note, "'Gone tattooin' and seeing pretty Helly'."

Mark winced at the end of that sentence, looking over at Helly for her reaction.

Instead, she was still hung up on an earlier part.

"Race car bed?" She asked him, barely restraining a grin.

Mark opened his mouth to explain, then reconsidered, "Long story."

"Don't worry," Devon interrupted, "he does have his own apartment with a regular bed, for when you go over-"

Mark let out a surprised scoff, "Hey!"

"Good to know," Helly continued easily, "I've had sex in a car twice and that's two times too many."

Mark felt his jaw lower at just the image of that, his mind racing with thoughts that were much too inappropriate when he was in front of his sister.

"I feel you," she replied, "I banged my elbow on a window once and it hurt like a motherfucker. Totally ruined the mood-"

Mark held out his hands in front of him with a sour look on his face, "Okay, can you two stop bonding over fucking in cars please?"

Helly tilted her head at him, eyes wide, "Would you prefer it if we bonded over you passing out?"

"Or the time you-"

Mark pointed at his sister with a frown, "I know what you're gonna say. I was nine. Let it go."

Devon squinted at him, hissing the word "Never."

Helly looked between the two siblings like she was watching a tennis match. "You guys are weird as fuck."

Devon shrugged, as if it was something she'd heard a thousand times, "Get used to it if you're planning on dating him-"

Mark gawped, "Who said anything about dating?"

"You did," Helly supplied, "Mr. Not into the casual dating thing-"

Devon let out a guffaw, "He only says that because he's shit at it-"

"As shit as he is with needles?" Helly quipped with a grin.

"I like you," Devon stepped forward to pat Helly's bare shoulder without any hesitation, "We're gonna get on well. And make him miserable too."

Helly grinned from ear to ear, "I'm in."

Mark let out a long sigh, fearing what he'd gotten himself into. But if he could spend more time with Helly - without terrifying needles - he supposed it would be worth it.

~~~~~

was it obvious that i have no experience in having:

- a tattoo - a sibling

(also +10 points if you can find the scrubs reference, i quote it all the time)

The memory of carrying Helly's limp and light body in his arms flashed before his eyes, the panic he'd felt at the time beginning to creep in once again.

He instead tried to focus on the memories they'd made that day instead, as he supposed that was the point of the excursion. He stared up at the dark wooden ceiling of his small cabin as he thought back.

Waking up in the middle of a forest with trees taller than anything he'd ever seen, feeling the sunlight on his face for the first time, the breeze fluttering his hair.

Finding the other three members of his team, all dressed in similar outfits: insulated rain jackets, breathable trousers with multiple pockets, black hiking boots. (Helly had much preferred the boots over her usual heels, making the most of stomping on the dirt paths).

Walking along a trail that Gerhardt Eagan had apparently walked at one point in history when he was 'taming his frolic'.

The four of them laughing and quipping about the ridiculousness of the story as they came across the trailheads that revealed more of the tale each time. (Well, three of them really. Irving took the whole thing incredibly seriously. But even then he still cracked a smile once when Helly lied down on a grassy hill and rolled down, cackling all the way).

Ms Cobel telling them all a campfire story whilst Milchick had cooked on a portable grill, the smell of barbeque lingering in the open air. They'd been allowed a burger and hot dog each, and Mark had never seen Dylan's eyes light up as much as they did when he was told they could add as much sauce as they wanted.

His mind was taken away from the day's events when a loud pounding began on his cabin door, making him jump out of his skin.

He swung his legs around off his mattress, making sure his navy chequered pyjamas were in place and respectable before he opened the door.

Helly stood there in a dark blue bathrobe with the Lumon logo embroidered on the chest pocket and her unlaced boots, hair slightly damp from the heavy rain surrounding her.

He couldn't help but look at her from top to bottom. Her bare legs were on display - not much more than when she'd wear the pencil skirts to the office floor - but somehow seeing the skin now felt much more intimate, Mark feeling helpless to tear his gaze away-

"I'm dying."

His eyes snapped up to hers, confusion meeting panic.

"What?" He replied, feeling his heart begin to pound at her words.

She pushed passed him into his cabin, trailing mud onto the floorboards.

Mark closed the door behind her as she turned around to face him, the lines caused by her frown accentuated in the dim, dark lighting.

Her speech was high and fast as she spoke, flailing her arms, "My back and stomach have red spots and they hurt and I think this is what an allergic reaction is, I must've had almonds or something because my breathing's all fucked and-"

"Milchick wouldn't have given you almonds-" He tried to reason, willing himself to stay calm even as he felt her energy rubbing off on him.

She sighed exasperatedly, then began to undo the knot holding her robe closed, "Look!"

Mark turned on his heel as quickly as he could, then also covered his eyes with his hands for good measure. "I don't think-"

"I said look!" Helly repeated, seemingly annoyed by his attempt to be polite.

"I- Rea- Are you sure?" He asked, turning around slowly but still holding his hands up in front of his face.

"Yes," Helly all but growled, "I need you to see them. To tell me whether I need to wake up Cobel and Milchick and give them shit for poisoning me-"

"That's not a good idea-" He began, but trailed off as he lowered his hands and finally saw Helly's body.

She was dressed just in a nude satin bra and matching underwear, the robe now a puddle on the floor next to her.

Mark swallowed thickly at the sight, taking a greedy moment to trace over the expanse of milky skin with his gaze, before remembering why she was undressed for him in the first place.

He crouched down onto his knees in front of her, the muscles screaming at the pull after all of the hiking they'd done that day.

True to her word, there were small red bumps dotted along her skin across her stomach and back. Mark raised a hand to touch a small cluster of them, fingertips barely brushing the skin before he heard Helly intake a sharp breath. He pulled his hand away as if he had been burned, opening his mouth to apologise.

She beat him to it, "See? They're all bumpy and itchy and red and-"

"Mosquito bites."

Helly's rambling screeched to a halt as her brain processed what he'd said, "What?"

Mark looked up at her with a relieved smile as he returned to standing, "They're bites from an insect called a mosquito. I think it sucks your blood? It's not that bad though. I've got loads of them on my legs too. I think an angry one must've gone up your shirt or is hiding in your bedsheets or something-"

Helly let out a deep sigh as she hugged him, or more accurately, crashed into his body and sagged into him.

He wrapped an awkward arm around her middle, resting his chin against her damp hair. He'd never given her a hug, the only time he'd ever touched her was when he was rescuing her from the elevator. The thought of that made his other arm wrap protectively around her too, his hands spanning across her slim back, gently rubbing in what he hoped were soothing circles.

She indulged in the hug for a little longer before pulling away. The panic had completely left her face as she now looked relaxed, if also a little sheepish, but he was unable to tell whether she was blushing with embarrassment or if the pink hue was due to the sun she'd caught all day.

"You okay?" He asked, his deep brown eyes searching hers.

She let out another deep breath, her shoulders finally relaxing, "I thought I was gonna die." A short pause as she diverted her gaze, instead looking at the buttons on his sleep shirt, "And I… didn't want that."

His hand resumed the circles as he wondered when her outlook had changed. Perhaps Lumon knew what they were doing when they'd assigned this retreat and it had actually worked for her.

"If they're in my sheets," Helly began, Mark feeling confused before he realised that she was calling upon his previous explanation, "does that mean I shouldn't sleep in my bed tonight?"

Mark blinked a couple of times, hardly an expert in mosquito behaviour, "I… Maybe? I don't know."

"Maybe I could stay here instead?" She said the words quickly, as if they wouldn't come if she didn't force them out. After the last one, she looked up at him, her hazel eyes darker in the low light. She looked both apprehensive and brave as she waited for his reply.

Mark hoped he had hidden his instinctual crestfallen reaction. He didn't want to miss out on what could be his only chance to sleep in a real bed, but he would give it up for Helly without question. He supposed sacrifices like this were part of being department head, like getting to work earlier and making coffee for everyone else before himself.

"Sure," he said, plastering on a polite smile, "I'll sleep on the floor."

Helly's head tilted, then she chuckled quietly, "I'm not kicking you out of your bed, you idiot."

"Wh-"

"I'm saying we share."

Mark's mouth opened in surprise, eyebrows raising behind the hair that had fallen onto his forehead after his shower.

Helly spoke again, pulling her hands together as she stepped away, looking at her boots, "Unless you don't want to-"

"I do!" He blurted quickly, immediately self-conscious by how eager he sounded.

The feeling dispersed when Helly smiled up at him shyly from beneath her lashes, "Yeah?"

"As long as you want to?" He caveated quickly.

Helly's smile intensified as she regarded him, "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to."

"Right," he nodded, willing his heart rate to calm, "yeah. Obviously."

Helly made her way over to his bed with the characteristic walk Mark had come to know. She perched on the side he had been using, using her feet to take off her boots and kicking them off, one colliding against the wall with a thud.

She lay against the mattress, her back ramrod straight as she tried to adjust to the sensation.

Mark copied her, tucking his feet under the thin blanket and swinging his body around to lie next to her. Even though she was smaller than him, she was already taking up more of the mattress than he was, and he purposefully made sure not to get too close and disturb her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he likened it to a cat sleeping on the same bed as their owner. Maybe his outie had experience with owning a cat?

He felt the mattress move beneath him as Helly turned to face him. The small space that he'd left between them got even smaller.

Mark mirrored her, turning to the middle as well. Her red hair was fanned against the white pillowcase, upper body outside of the blanket. He tried his best not to look down, all too aware of the state of undress Helly was in, especially compared to his long sleeved shirt and trousers.

They were quiet for a while, the only sounds being the rain pelting the window and their quiet breathing mingling between them.

Helly was the first to speak.

"The outside is scarier than I thought." She confessed as she looked down at her hand fiddling with the top of the blanket, her voice barely louder than a whisper that Mark wouldn't have been able to hear had he not been so close.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her know that he had heard her but letting her elaborate if she wanted to.

"It's so big." Her voice still had a tinge of wonder, even through the fear, "I still wanna see more of it though."

Mark tucked his hand under his pillow as he settled in, "Like what?"

A small smile spread across her features, her teeth boring into her lower lip as she hummed in thought, "The beach. And the circus."

A quiet chuckle bubbled up without meaning to, "A circus? Like, with clowns and people breathing fire and eating swords?" He had no idea where his sudden knowledge of circuses had come from, it was as if her saying the word had unlocked the definition in his brain. (Though eating swords definitely couldn't be right, could it?)

Helly tilted her chin up in defiance, narrowing her eyes at him, "Fine, what do you want to see?"

He paused to think, casting his eyes to the ceiling, then finally settled on, "A library."

She waited as if he was going to add more, but he didn't. "Such a fucking nerd." She said resolutely with a teasing grin.

"Fine, how about somewhere that makes coffee?" He offered, "I want something better than black coffee or shitty creamer."

She hummed, more pleased by that answer, "That actually sounds good."

They fell into companionable silence again, both ruminating about the possibilities of the outside.

"Maybe we could run away." Her voice was tinged with hope and possibility.

Mark turned his head to find that she was still looking at him. He knew they couldn't do it - Lumon never would've approved of an outdoor retreat if there was even a possibility of them escaping - but with her bright eyes watching him, he was powerless to disagree with her.

"Where would we go?"

Helly grinned from ear to ear, excited that he'd joined her in their make believe fantasy. "Well, first we'd go to a shop and buy lots of food. Whatever we wanted. Nothing from a vending machine, actual fucking food. Something warm and comforting and spicy."

"Spicy?" Mark echoed, "I've never had anything spicy before."

"Me neither, but I think I'd like it."

He didn't argue that as she continued.

"Then we'd find a car. Some big, old car. With a tree shaped air freshener." She paused for a moment as what she'd said registered, as if she'd also unlocked something from the deep recesses of her brain too.

"And who would drive?" Mark prompted, getting caught up in the story.

"Me, obviously," she rolled her eyes, as if it was the dumbest question she'd ever heard, "If we're on the run, we have to drive fast. I feel like you'd drive all slow and boring."

"I'd drive just fast enough-" he protested.

"And then if we were stopped by the police, we could pretend that we were a married couple that was arguing and they'd feel too awkward to interrupt us and just let us keep going."

He was almost certain that police officers wouldn't just drop a matter of breaking the law as easily as that, but the mental image of them shouting at each other whilst someone watched on in silence was an amusing one.

"What would we argue over?"

"How you cut car wash coupons wrong." She supplied easily.

Mark's face scrunched in confusion, "There's no wrong way to cut car wash coupons."

"Of course that's what someone who cuts them wrong would say." Helly said breezily.

He had no retort for this, and instead just watched her as she grinned playfully, mirroring her with his own dazed smile.

Mark said what was on his mind without conscious effort, his voice lowering to a gravelly whisper, "I'm glad I'm here with you."

Her eyes widened at the change in tone, but she didn't seem to mind, "Me too."

The conversation dwindled but the two still stayed there smiling at each other until Helly's blinks began to get slower and her breathing got deeper.

"You can sleep." Mark whispered. As if she'd ever needed his permission for anything.

"Stay?"

He barely heard the word as it was mumbled against the pillow. He wasn't awake enough to point out that this was his assigned cabin, and if anyone needed to be asked to stay, it was her.

"I'll stay." He promised instead.

She let out a hum of acknowledgement then closed her eyes fully, a soft sigh escaping her lips and tickling against his. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand trail gently against her jawline then moving down to pull the blanket up to her neck.