A/N: This is because the pairing has been niggling at my muse, and I wanted to write something happier than the last one.

Mid-morning sun streams through the curtained windows. The light is soft, spilling over the bed and its occupants with a tender touch.

Helen is still asleep, a rare morning that she is not the first to rise. And she is still Helen— she will be Helen until she rises and assumes the guarded mask that is Doctor Magnus, the Atlas of the modern world. In the morning's warm glow the weight of the world is not yet on her shoulders, the woes of the planet not yet heavy in her thoughts.

In this moment she is simply Helen, gentle and beautiful as she lies asleep.

A hand reaches out to brush her shoulder, the touch so light that she doesn't wake immediately. Fingers slide down bare arms, and Helen stirs when palms gently grasp her wrists. She stretches as she rouses, her body stiffening beneath the bed sheets before she relaxes once more, more languid than she'd been before. The questing hand returns to her shoulder, squeezing a gentle massage as her lips curl into a soft smile, eyes slitted against the breaking day.

Her chin turns into the hand, soft lips coming to rest against the soothing fingertips in a gesture not unlike a kiss. They linger there, until she pulls away with a sigh. But she does not rise, and the unspoken invitation is accepted as a warm body shifts close against hers. Her skin is soft, cared for, tender.

Dark locks fall about her shoulders as arms wrap themselves around her, and the subtle fragrance of her hair washes across the senses like a breeze when a head rests against hers. Eyes close, and it is known without saying that this intimacy she allows is a greater gift than the lovemaking of the previous night. It is easy to submit to primal urges, and it is no secret that she is strong enough to use sex to her own ends.

But vulnerability cannot be faked, and the early moments of the morning after reveal more than those brief moments of ecstasy. The whole world could see the seductive mystery of her charisma, but a select few have seen these soft lapses in her guarded vigilance. To savor the contact between them— with nothing but skin to keep their souls from touching— is an allowance few in their lifetime would enjoy.

Within the sanctuary of these four bedposts, the power of Helen Magnus is simply that of herself. Her beauty remains, but the spirit shines from within, brushing her with the glow of true peace. These brief moments, so few and far between, are a gift, and one that is never taken for granted. It might be weeks or months before she emerges again, and should death come knocking at her door before that happened, selfish thoughts whisper that this Helen would be mourned more than the loss of the Magnus who saves the world.

"Charlotte…" Helen's voice finally pierced the quiet, but the peace lingered, as though on the edge of a morning breeze.

"Good morning." Charlotte let the greeting purr in throat, her utter content a near tangible presence. "Sleep well?"

The body in her arms turned, Helen shifting to face her. "Better than I have in decades."

Charlotte blinked, reminding herself once again that Helen Magnus is no ordinary woman. She looked into the warm eyes gazing at her, the dawning light a halo around her tousled head. A tug plucked at Charlotte's gut, and she gave in to its pull by rolling over, propping herself up on hands planted on either side of her bedmate.

Helen let her come, settling deeper into the pillows and staring up at the younger woman with a smile tickling at her lips. Charlotte returned the smirk, recognizing the allowance for what it was. But where her smirk last night had been sultry and sensual, this morning it was gentle.

"I think I had a dream about you last night."

Helen raised a brow. "You think?"

Charlotte's smirk grew into a broad smile. "Can't be sure until I wake up."

Warmth flooded Helen's chest, a happiness radiating through her in a way she could barely remember. It had been so long… so heartbreakingly long since anyone had made her feel cherished. It was a pleasant feeling, one that hadn't yet had a chance to turn sour with the notion that it could never last.

Living in the moment was an art she had long ago mastered.

"What do you want to do today?" Charlotte asked. Helen heard the entreaty in her tone, and felt the familiar pang of regret that she cannot grant her unspoken request.

She smiled. "As much as I would love to stay abed all day…" She paused when she saw the twitch of disappointment in Charlotte's features. "There are duties that need tending."

Charlotte sighed. "Yeah… I guess you don't really get a week off for spring break when you're running a global network of awesome." Her brows lifted in a shrug. "Well, I'm not going to stay in bed without you, so what can I do to help?"

Her fingers lift with a mind of their own, gently tucking Charlotte's short hair behind one ear. A scarred palm presses against a soft cheek, and brown eyes close briefly as she leans into the touch. "Stay exactly as you are," Helen voices, her words deep in her chest.

Brown eyes open, and something like surprise flits across Charlotte's features. Her gaze searches Helen's, but when she doesn't retract the request, young lips pull into a smile.

"I at least get to put some clothes on, right?"

Helen breaks eye contact to roll her gaze upwards, searching her psyche for the answer. "Oh, I suppose that would be all right," she finally returns, as though it were the most difficult thing in the world to allow. "But only if they come off again later tonight."

Soft lips press against hers, nearly swallowing her words. A tongue darts out teasingly, and Helen nips at her bottom lip in playful reply. A thigh rubs between her legs as Charlotte pulls away, her sweet eyes glinting with devious intent. "They'll be off by this afternoon if I have anything to say about it," Charlotte informs her silkily. "So will yours."

Helen's mind briefly touches on the many tasks she must accomplish before the day is out; meetings and deals to wrangle, residents to accommodate and insurgent leads to follow. There is no possible way she could complete all before nightfall, let alone afternoon. But as Charlotte leans down to coax another willing kiss from her lips, she cannot find a reason why the Sanctuary cannot wait one more day.