Chapter Text
They fuck in Helena’s office, a final affront to the office of the Speaker that they’ve taken full advantage of to cover up their sin. Myka’s got her skirt up around her waist and Helena’s fingers deep inside her, her head thrown back as she comes, her whole body clenching and shuddering, and her mind completely and utterly blank.
Sinners or saints, Myka doesn’t even know who they are anymore. She’s played her role and she’s stood beside Helena at a moment when that was what needed to be done. She’s given and taken, she’s stood with the best. She’s a House Representative and she’s going to have her cake and eat it too.
And somehow, as Helena’s fingers slip from her, to splay against her thigh, Myka finds herself laughing.
Helena brushes a kiss against her lip, her expression full of all the love that Myka knows will always be there for her, should she be willing to look. “What is it, darling?” she asks. Her tone is mild, but Myka knows the laughter is catching and she can’t help herself. Soon she’ll be laughing too.
“Everything changes,” Myka says, catching Helena’s cheek against her palm and pulling her up. Their kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue and not lasting nearly long enough to sate whatever it is that has Myka going now. She’d never known defiance was what would get her going, that sticking up two middle fingers to everyone and everything she’s ever stood for would make her want this so badly. “And yet everything stays the same…”
“Darling, if you’d like to fuck with the door open, all you had to do was say something,” Helena murmurs, her lips nipping at Myka’s earlobe. Her teeth bite into the flesh there and Myka feels herself clench and her hips cant upwards once more. She wants more, she wants and wants and they’re going to crash and burn, she’s so sure of it. Yeltz can still sink them. “I doubt that Joyce will appreciate the show though.”
God, Myka can only imagine it. If a kiss has caused so much, what would this cause. Her skirt around her waist and Helena’s fingers dangerously close to drifting back inside her for an encore? They’d have a field day, and god, it’s enough to make Myka want all the more.
“That’s not what I mean,” Myka replies, and her hands run down the front of Helena’s shirt. “and you know it.”
There’s a beat then, as Helena’s hand hovers and Myka’s hips roll forward, where they both understand Myka’s meaning perfectly. This is no different, and yet it is. And Myka doesn’t feel any different. She doubts Helena does either. And maybe that’s what’s so wonderful about it. Myka’s sinned and fallen, Helena’s corrupted her utterly, and it’s somehow okay. Because Ted Yeltz will get his comeuppance and the news media are sure to take their side.
Lesbians, after all are hot, right?
And Helena’s fingers slide home and it’s all Myka can do to remember her own name, let alone Ted Yeltz's and all he’s done. She rocks forward, her fingers sliding down into Helena’s pants. They fumble, clumsy and made awkward by the angle and her own passion, until they curl around Helena and jerk upwards, rubbing small circles on her clit.
And they are one.
Later, as lipstick is reapplied and Helena runs her fingers through her hair distractedly, a defense spending memo in one hand as she skims it, Myka wonders if one day, Helena truly could be president. She thinks she can, it just depends on this storm. They’ve weathered it so well, they’ve taken the scandal and turned it on its head for their own gain. Myka thinks that they’ll survive, but she never can be entirely sure with these things.
Doubt creeps into the corners, the dark recesses of her mind where she cannot help but stand naked in the great void that is her own lack of confidence.
And yet they cannot be complacent in this. This is where they must throw off that idle complacency and buck the trend before the trend consumes them utterly. Myka is resolute. It’s all she can be. She stands tall and proud, reapplying her make up and leaning around Helena to glance over the memo. She won’t be voting for it, not just yet.
“This is a bad draft,” Helena mutters, setting down the memo and fiddling with the binder clip that’s holding it together. “Need to get with someone at the NSA to talk about their expenditures.”
There’s a knock on the door then and Helena’s secretary sticks her head into the room. It smells like sex and sin and poorly kept secrets, and Myka doesn’t care. She leans against the desk, picking up the memo and flipping through it, eyebrows climbing up her forehead at how much money the NSA wants. Helena’s got a point. Someone is going to have to talk to them, this will never get off the floor otherwise.
“What is it?” Helena asks.
“I just thought you should know, Madam Speaker,” the secretary crosses to Helena’s desk and picks up the remote that’s discarded, almost knocked off the desk earlier. She points it at the television and John Stewart’s face swims into view. Myka glances towards the window and sees that it’s dark out. She hadn’t realized it’d gotten so late.
“—Yeltz, a senior republican leader, has been accused by the Speaker of the House of publicly outing her affair with junior congresswoman Myka Bering of the Colorado Second District in an act of retribution for Congresswoman Bering’s not wanting to sign onto his incredibly bigoted bill.” Stewart taps his pencil, staring straight into the camera, “I guess we know why he brought it to the floor in the first place then.” There’s a laugh from the audience, and Stewart’s face grows more serious. “Here on the show, we’ve had a good time poking fun at Congresswoman Well’s career – and she’s been good enough to come onto the show a few times to rebut some of the more raunchy jokes, but I want her to hear this. We’re behind you one hundred percent.”
Myka turns, her mouth half-open in shock. Helena’s secretary is smiling approvingly. “They’re all like this, Madam Speaker. Yeltz said what he’d done on Hannity earlier and he was completely unremorseful about it. The crucifixion is averted.”
“And thank god for that,” Helena laughs, taking the remote as it’s offered to her and muting it. Myka watches as Stewart wiggles his eyebrows at the camera. She wonders what he’s talking about, and realizes that she doesn’t want to know. “You can go home, Joyce.”
“Thank you, Madam Speaker.”
Joyce leaves and Myka lets out a low sigh. Maybe they are going to be safe.
“You’re right,” Helena says, gathering her things. Myka blinks and straightens, not quite following. “Everything changes, but everything does say the same.”
And it’s in that moment that Myka decides that she’ll follow Helena Wells to hell and back. It’s an all-consuming desire, a feeling of ‘what’s next’ that’s been instilled with her since she’d shown up in Washington, a fresh-faced country bumpkin with two master’s degrees and former secret service written all over her.
“I love you,” is all she says.
Helena looks up, a quiet sort of a smile on her face. She doesn't reply just yet, but Myka knows that the 'I love you' is there all the same. They finally understand each other, and Myka's down with playing the innocent little girl, corrupted by the office of the Speaker of the House. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot," Helena says. There's a determination about her that makes Myka weak at the knees, wanting all over again.
“But we’ve won the first battle.” Myka replies.
“And we’ll turn the tide of the war,” Helena agrees. She offers Myka her arm and the two of them walk out of her office together for the first time. They cut down the stairs and step out into the night, two people, very much in love.
And that? That’s enough for Myka for now. She knows someday soon Helena will be on one knee and she’ll be gasping out a surprised yes. And maybe it will all be for political gain, but when Helena’s sitting in the Oval Office it won't matter in the slightest. Myka knows that with just a word she can have Helena on her knees now, she holds all the cards, for Myka has given her her love. Myka knows that she will hold all the power in the free world. She can bring this great woman into the world and have her when no one else can. And she will have her, should Helena be willing. This is just a start, and it’s an auspicious one.