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Helen was having a good day; all was quiet in the Sanctuary. Will and Henry were over in Praxis, Erika and little Alister up on the surface, and Nikola… Helen wasn’t one hundred percent sure where he was, but there weren’t any explosions or reports from above, and Nikola was a big boy now, so she wasn’t too worried.
Laughing at herself, she shook her head. If she measured her good days by explosions or the lack thereof, she needed a better yardstick. Not that they’d had many bad days, or explosions, since relocating to Hollow Earth, but she’d rather not have to rebuild a lab.
Flicking through some emails sent to the Sanctuary, she almost closed the program from the banality of its contents, when a short message caught her eye. It was from a contact that specialised in rare, red list abnormals.
“Yo, thought someone would wanna know, Tanner’s selling some more.”
“That’s frustratingly vague,” Declan muttered over the video call on screen, Helen having messaged him about the email they’d received.
“Only if you don’t know what Tanner specialises in,” Helen replied, best Mona Lisa impression in place.
Declan nodded. “You do.”
She echoed his movements. “He has a breeding pair of draco minima.”
Declan boggled at her, eyes wide. “He’s the Dragon Man?”
“The very one. He doesn’t sell hatchlings often, so we never know when or where he’ll pop up next. We've been on his trail for years now, but never get close.” Helen shrugged. “He's extremely slippery.”
Declan nodded slowly, eyes looking at something off screen for a moment. Concentration back on Helen, he asked, “What's your plan?”
She smiled. “Jax tells me that Tanner is holding a gathering to meet potential buyers...”
“And you're going,” Declan finished, smiling back at his boss.
Her grin was dazzling, her eyes looking heavenward. “Oh, you know, any excuse for a party.” Sobering slightly, she added, “I'll be heading topside Friday, do a bit of recon.”
His forehead furrowed. “Are you sure? SCIU might be out of the picture now but...” Helen nodded patiently, and Declan dropped the subject, knowing how his boss could be. “Back up?”
Helen shook her head. “I have that covered. Now don't make that face Declan.”
Declan put his hands up, smiling. “No face, Magnus.” He looked off screen again, then nodded. “Duty calls.”
Monitor clear of Declan, desk clear of paper, tea cup woefully empty, Helen opened her personal email. Smirking as she typed, the email was short and to the point. He'd understand.
–
The venue of choice for the festivities was a dance hall in a dying town. If the flow of workers was to be trusted, they had almost finished their task, although the decorations (what she could see) were juvenile. Jax, in her wisdom, had warned her that Tanner's taste had changed in the ten years since she last met him, more screaming guitars than soothing string quartet. The invitation she had forwarded had the dress code listed as, 'Goth masquerade ballroom.'
She'd rolled her eyes at that. Jax explained the rumours behind Tanner's change, and who the entertainment of the evening was. Helen didn't like it – the whole party had the subtlety of a brick – but a chance to save the draco minima? She'd wear a canvas bag and army boots.
The hall wasn't heavily fortified, but everyone wearing masks could be both a blessing and a curse. The bodyguards would be obvious. Tanner would be in a separate room – he was not a social butterfly. The variables would come from the other guests. There would be innocent people there, invited for the music, not the abnormals they could procure.
Checking her watch then looking at her burner phone (she really needed to get Henry and Nikola to invent a communication method that didn't depend on cell phone coverage), Helen moved through her hotel room. She had to get ready for a party.
--
As the first strains of the song were plucked from the guitar strings, Helen knew this was her cue to move, but the dance floor had suddenly teemed with couples. Cursing under her breath, she hung back, knowing she'd stick out like a sore thumb.
The hand running around her waist and the solid not-quite-warmth of a vampire behind her shoulder propelled her forward, a satisfied smirk transforming her face under her mask. “What are you waiting for, doctor?” he murmured close to her ear.
“Niko...? Where have you been?” she asked back, turning to wrap her arms around his neck, plastering her body to his. Her tone wasn't frosty, but she could hear the waspish attitude colouring her words.
“Oh,” he breathed, “here and there.” Taking one hand from his neck, he smiled at her as they relaxed into hold. His eyebrow quirked beneath his own mask when her leg hooked around his thigh, her lips morphing to a smirk. The two turning slowly on the spot, her leg came down for her foot to caress his. With the singer joining in to the music, Nikola's own leg was between Helen's, the two swaying slightly before they turned again in a molinete. “Which door do we need?”
“The one closest to the stage,” she answered, her chest against his as they turned. The other dancers all moved as the beat dropped, the verse sashaying through the air as Nikola lead Helen through the throng. Their hips and thighs brushed as they moved, Helen scanning the room without moving her head too much. “Three, armed stage right,” she whispered as she and Nikola paused their forward movement to hook their legs together, displacing one another’s feet in time to the music, before setting off again. “Another three, stage left.”
They moved together during the chorus, stopping and turning abruptly as couples danced across their path. Had Helen been dancing for fun, she would have laughed at Nikola's thunderous expression. As it was, she just moved with him and the music, stroking his hand with her thumb, glad he was there.
Looking into each other's eyes, knowing they would be watched by Tanner’s men, Helen's leg hooked around his hip as Nikola leant backwards. His left leg, her right, slid as they lowered. “You look fabulous, by the way,” he whispered. “And am I right in thinking you're happy to see me?” He licked his lips, his eyes flicking to her lower lip.
Shaking her head gently, smiling wickedly, she replied, “Stick around and find out.”
Back up again, they moved around the dance floor again, Helen counting the remaining henchmen, Nikola guiding them. All the while they talked.
“Are they all here to buy the mini dragons?” he muttered into her hair.
“If they understood when to go, they wouldn't be here now,” she replied.
“And the décor! Teenybopper goth.” He grimaced. “These masks!”
Helen nodded, her eyes glittering. “Tanner hasn't always been subtle with his decorating...”
Moving away from her for a moment as she danced around him, he drew her back with, “At least your dress matches your mask... And your eyes.”
It really did. Made of a dark blue material that shimmered as she moved, the dress was almost indecently backless, the halter around the back of her neck the only thing keeping it in place. The mask itself was the same dark blue, with delicate silver scrollwork along the edges, highlighting the lace patterns on her bodice.
“And you match me,” she whispered as he dipped her, some loose curls following gravity's path.
He grinned. “I suppose so,” he agreed as she came back up, eyes smouldering. He was as debonair as usual, his dark suit matching seamlessly with everyone else, his mask the same shade as hers. Helen took a nanosecond to thank the heavens that he checked his hotel room (as she asked) and grabbed the package she’d left before joining her.
A few more turns and they were on the other side of the floor. “Ready to take me away?” she asked. They were close enough for a henchman to hear her breathless inquiry, to see the way she was plastered against him, his victorious smirk at her words.
“Whatever my lady asks,” he replied, before leaning in and whispering to her neck, “Are they always this easy to play?”
Her laugh glittered against the heavy bass guitar and drum cacophony, bubbling like champagne as she glanced through her lashes to the door, then back at him. “Always.” A nip to his ear, a growl against her hair, and Nikola tilting his head to the door behind the guard, they were through without incident. Gasping gratefully at the enveloping coolness of the corridor, Helen rolled her shoulders before pushing the slit of her skirt up to her hip. Holstered cleverly was a small stunner, hidden in the shadows of the dark blue material.
“Come on Nikola,” she muttered, taking the safety off.
“That is the sexiest thing I've seen tonight,” he told her, kissing her deeply before following her down the corridor, his footsteps almost silent next to hers. “Why are we sneaking?”
Helen scowled slightly. “I haven't quite got an invitation.”
“Gate-crashing?” Nikola smirked. “My night's getting better and better.”
“Would you want it any other way?” she asked, smiling,
The music, whilst pounding, wasn’t loud enough to cover her footfalls, but she prayed that Tanner had changed his bodyguards since their last run in, ten years ago. She hadn’t been able to scope them out during her reconnaissance (online and in town), something she didn’t like as it left her on the back foot.
Coming to a corner, Helen peered carefully around it, glad for the shadows the corridor offered. Two men, one each side of a nondescript door. “Damn.” Next to one hulking bodyguard was a table, littered with masks.
“Problem?” Nikola asked as she leant against the wall.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she replied, smiling, before rounding the corner again and shooting both men. They both crumpled without a sound. Moving quickly, Helen stepped delicately over one, whilst Nikola walked more languidly.
“You know, bodyguards just aren’t what they used to be,” he murmured, opening the door at Helen’s nod. “There used to be a bit of character to them, a—oh. Hello.”
Helen gave a short cry of pain as her stunner was kicked from her hand, watching it sail past Nikola into the dark corner of the room. The floor came rushing to meet her as the bodyguard kicked Helen’s legs from under her. Twisting, Helen kicked back, only vaguely aware that Nikola had his claws out and fighting another person. As she rose, she flung a fist, connecting with the smaller woman’s jaw. Blocking the woman’s blows, Helen finally managed a kick to her opponent’s solar plexus, making her tumble away from her, winded and out of it. Nikola’s sparring partner soon flew over to rest next to his compatriot.
“M’lady,” he intoned jovially as he manipulated the magnetic field around him to pick up her stunner. “Think Mulder and Scully there will stay down?”
Taking the stunner from Nikola’s orbit, Helen checked the settings, keeping half an eye on the small redhead. She was slowly trying to rise when Helen shot her. “They will now,” she muttered, before crossing the room and putting her ear against the door. Nikola followed her, his hearing more sensitive. Neither could mistake the small cries of the young draco minima. Or the hushed murmurings of two people idly chatting in the seclusion of their office.
“He’s brought them with him?” Nikola asked incredulously.
Helen nodded, turning to face him. “Tanner trusts no-one, including his employees. Much better to have them where he can keep an eye on them, than worry that someone, someday, will take what’s his.” She took a breath, “Did you bring--?”
Nikola rolled his eyes and nodded, tapping his breast pocket. “Yes.”
“Good. On three?”
There was a click behind Helen’s head. “Drop it.”
Helen’s eyes went wide as her hands rose into the air. Her fingers fanned away from her stunner, feeling Nikola’s magnetic field hold it in place. He nodded back at her, minutely, at the confusion in her eyes.
“I said, drop it!” the henchman growled.
Quick as a flash, the stunner was pointing at him and sneezing a bolt of energy. The bad guy didn’t have a chance to blink before he fell to the floor, a crumpled heap. “Why did you bring a stunner, Doctor I-Have-More-Guns-Than-I’ve-Had-Hot-Dinners?” Nikola asked.
Helen sighed. “I didn’t want any chance of the draco minima being hurt in the crossfire.”
“But chancing you is ok?”
She shrugged, before smiling brightly. “You’re not going to let that happen.” She kissed his cheek swiftly. “You’d be bored to tears without me.” Winking, she grabbed her gun and flung the door wide open. Quickly glancing, she shot twice before falling back behind the doorframe. Nothing followed her, but that meant nothing. Hearing his growl, Helen followed Nikola into the room, hoping no-one decided to shoot her through him.
She needn’t have worried. Behind the desk, slumped from the stunner was a stocky woman, dark hair fanning on the table top. “That’s not…?” Nikola began, pointing at her.
“Nope,” she replied, walking to behind the desk, and pointing. There, sprawled on the floor was Tanner. He was a slight man, with a shock of bright green hair.
“Abnormal?” Nikola asked, looking down at him.
“Bleach and hair dye,” Helen responded distractedly, eyes scanning the room. She counted the draco minima flapping around the ceiling lights, attracted to the heat of the bulbs. “Eight,” she breathed, her eyes widening behind her mask. “And look, you see the two closest to the bulb?” she asked, pointing them out to Nikola, “they’re adults.”
At the sound of her voice, the two adults turned, and swooped slowly towards them, alighting on Nikola’s shoulders. Helen almost laughed when they began nuzzling his ears, his quiet yelp of surprise drawing the attention of the hatchlings. Soon enough, Nikola had a cloak of dragons hovering around him, the flapping wings making his hair move gently in their breeze. Helen grinned outright when he shrugged. “At least they have good taste,” he told her, walking toward the door as one dragon licked his ear.
--
“I thought I told you to make sure they settled into their new habitat,” Helen murmured as she sat next to Nikola in the staff kitchen. He was feeding ghost peppers wrapped in raw bacon to the two adult dragons, throwing the food into the air for them to catch.
“They wouldn’t let go,” he replied. He held up his arm, showing Helen the material. “Look at what they did to my jacket!”
She rolled her eyes, laughing kindly. “You and your clothes.” Eyeing the rents in the cloth, she continued, a bit more sombre, “Did you find what you needed?”
He stroked the chin of the male dragon, careful of the spikes there, not looking at Helen. “On the surface?” He glanced at her. “No.” He smiled. “But I’ve got what I want here.” Helen’s brow furrowed as her nose crinkled, about to lambast his cheesy declaration, when Nikola added, “The draco minima. Look at them!”
“You can’t keep them,” she told him with a smile, touching his hand.
“Not even if I ask nicely?” he crooned, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “They’re already part domesticated,” he continued, kissing her fingertips. “Didn’t you once tell me that reintroduction of a species to a habitat should be gradual?”
“Yes,” she replied, the s long and sibilant, “so they should be in their habitat, not here in the kitchen.” She drew her hand away from his lips, stroking his cheek with her thumb before dropping her hand to his arm, wanting to keep their physical contact. The dragons were watching carefully, their bright eyes shining. “Shall we take them back to their enclosure together?”
Nikola stroked the female’s head, before holding out his hand. The female hovered up and landed gently on his palm, curling up as if to sleep but her eyes staying open. The male, conversely, trotted up to Helen’s hand, tongued the air around her, then flew up to her shoulder, before settling down.
Helen’s eyes widened before turning to Nikola. He shrugged. “Like I said, they have good taste.”