I originally posted this as a one-shot on Tumblr, but I'm working to develop it into something more.

You're quite sure the first time you fall in love with her is just by the sound of her voice over the telephone, all lilting tones and soft accent as she inquires about the details of the vacant room in your small two-bedroom flat. A vacant room, you remember somewhat bitterly, that is vacant only because Pete, your best friend, decided to renege on his promise of joining you on this London excursion because he fell in love, of all things. You wouldn't forgive him except Amanda really is good for him and you can't help but love him in spite of all his faults, which are numerous, you reflect.

You also forgive him because his lack of commitment to you has now led you to the second moment you fall in love with her, as you answer the door to a soft knock and find the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen standing before you, raven tresses framing a nervous smile and eyes, the deepest shade of mahogany you've ever seen meet yours for the first time.

"Myka Bering, I presume?" she asks and you find you can only nod helplessly as she smiles wider. "I'm Helena Wells."

There are a few awkward seconds where you can't help but just stare at her, and her smile falters slightly at your obvious agitation.

"May I come inside?" she asks not without a little trepidation.

Reality finally setting in again, you nod, blushing furiously at your failure to the display common courtesy of inviting her inside your apartment. It's a well-known fact, the British are uncommonly polite, at least that's the impression, and you've just managed in a single moment to show you're decidedly not.

"I'm so sorry, yes, please come inside," you stammer opening the door wider to allow her entrance.

She smiles as she steps across the threshold, brushing against you briefly as she makes her way into the living area. And that's the third time you fall in love with her, as her scent carries by you. A soft perfume of jasmine and something you can't quite place.

You watch silently as Helena invades your space, taking it in as she stands in the middle of the room looking about her.

"I see you're an avid reader," she remarks lightly.

You glance around, trying to see the room through her eyes. There are books laying on every flat surface. The furnished apartment only had one large bookshelf when you moved in. It was easily filled with the three suitcases of books you brought with you, despite Pete's complaints you were only going to be in London six months. The books that are now scattered about the apartment somewhat haphazardly, you've acquired since your arrival. Pete would shake his head if you told him how many new/old books you've found here. Two this very morning are still settled comfortably in your satchel, just waiting to be read over the weekend. It's not as if you've made any new friends after all; books help fill that void.

Rubbing the back of you neck, you nod once more. "Yeah, reading is a bit of an obsession I guess," you finally reply. "Probably a casualty of my upbringing; I was raised in an apartment above my parents bookshop."

Helena turns shining eyes on you and you feel your heart flutter and jump at the sight. "A bookshop? I'm envious," she smiles easily. "Books are quite a passion of mine as well. I suppose they would have to be with the name I was given."

You look at her confused, frustrated with yourself that you're somehow missing something, but you don't know why Helena Wells is significant.

She tilts her head, observing you. "Helena G. Wells, as in HG Wells," she smiles and you find yourself doing the same.

"I love his work," you admit.

"As do I," she hums in agreement.

Again there is an awkward pause as you try to think of something substantial to say. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee or tea?" you ask suddenly remembering to be the polite hostess.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Helena replies as she visibly relaxes.

"Right, I'll just get that for us. Would you like some cookies…I mean biscuits to go with it?" you ask flustered once more.

"Thank you, yes," she agrees. "I am a little hungry," she admits briefly touching her stomach before she suddenly looks bashful and drops her hand away.

"It'll just take me a few minutes. Please, make yourself comfortable and feel free to browse through my book collection."

You turn to the kitchen before you can hear any reply and mentally tell yourself to get your act together. Yes, Helena is beautiful, undeniably so, and seemingly very intelligent as well, it's no reason to fall all over yourself, but you know this pep talk is virtually useless. Helena will likely always have this affect on you and you know it.

The tea doesn't take too long to steep and soon enough, you find yourself carrying a tray of tea and…biscuits, as you mentally remind yourself, to the living area where you find Helena sitting on the sofa, looking quite content.

You very nearly trip and fall at the sight of her, sitting there so resplendent and…pregnant.

You manage to set the tray down on the small table before the sofa with only a minor clatter and stumble backwards, your eyes darting to her eyes and then her soft protruding stomach.

"You're pregnant?" you ask and close your eyes at such an obvious statement, mortified with yourself.

However, when you finally open your eyes once more, it is to reveal Helena looking up at you with amusement in her eyes.

"I am," she agrees.

"Right," you breathe as you drop into a chair opposite her. "I just didn't realize…you didn't mention anything over the phone…not that you had to…" you stumble over your words not for the first time this afternoon.

"I apologize that I was not so forthcoming over the phone this morning. The fact is, I need a place to stay, at least temporarily, and I wanted to meet you, Myka," she says running her fingers through her dark tresses nervously.

"You did?" you ask surprised.

"Yes. You have a very kind voice, and I decided I'd like to meet you, that perhaps you wouldn't be adverse to this arrangement. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can of course find another flat," she says as she begins to rise from the sofa.

"No, don't go," you nearly shout, and quickly lower your voice. "You just surprised me, that's all. I wasn't expecting a baby to live here," and you feel yourself cringe at how stupid that sounds.

Helena smiles at you, definitely amused now. She gently cradles her stomach as she replies, "Well, there won't be an actual baby for a few more months yet."

You nod. "How far along are you?"

"Four months. I believe you advertisement mentioned your stay here is only for six months, correct?"

"Yeah," you nod, "that's as long as the culinary program lasts."

"A chef? I'm impressed. I can barely boil water myself," Helena laughs lightly. "You'll likely be gone before the baby arrives then."

"Right," you say for lack of anything else, grasping at the back of your neck wondering why that thought should bother you the way it does.

"Is everything agreeable then?" Helena questions.

"Agreeable?"

"The fact that I'm pregnant doesn't bother you?"

"No," you assure.

"And what about the other condition?"

"Other condition?" you ask confused.

"I mentioned over the phone that I'm a musician."

"Right, yes, I remember," you breathe easily now. "What's your instrument?"

" Violin."

"Classical music?" you hazard a guess.

"Mostly," she agrees, "but I do some studio work as well, that music is more contemporary. Regardless, you're likely to hear me play more than you deem necessary, so if this is an issue, you should let me know now."

"It's not issue," you speak adamantly.

"Good," Helena smiles as she stands. "It's all settled then. I'll just retrieve my things and return this evening."

She moves towards you then and takes your hand in hers and you look down amazed at how well your hands fit together.

"Thank you, Myka, for letting me stay with you," she speaks softly and you can only nod in acknowledgement, a shy smile playing at your lips before she turns away.

By mutual consent, it appears you and Helena are now roommates. That knowledge makes your stomach flutter helplessly and you wonder how many more ways in which you can possibly fall in love with her.