Archive of Our Own ^beta

Every time Madeline Ashton and Helen Sharp had ever gotten close to answering the question that hung between them, one of them always left; mostly Mad but not uncommonly Hel. Always plenty of excuses, acceptable ones; going cross country for a film award, a promising script with a Venetian setting or as it was the last time they had met, when Helen knew for certain that Mad was lying through her teeth when she congratulated Helen on her flight out for a niche book award.

Since then it had been two years, the longest they had ever managed which gave it some finality. In those two years Helen had found stability with Ernest, a place of her own outside of Madeline's blinding stardom and well she was on new medication. It didn't even matter that she was writing less and less, her agent constantly chasing her about deadlines. Things were finally going her way and so when she received an invitation from Madeline to come see her new show with a simply but touchingly written 'I miss you' and a lipstick mark that Helen so gently brushed her thumb over, it was an easy decision really. As much as she had tried she could not get Madeline out of her head and the temptation of a final win against Madeline sounded too delicious to pass up.

They were once so close but over the years but this was what they had turned into. Mad had become sharper, Helen more and more given to biting back. There were quips at Helen's dress sense or at Mad's attention grovelling. They saw each other less and less, took more and more. It hurt less that way, to pretend they didn't care. To make the Madeline in her head an image of teeth and claws and shallow feeling, a mirror probably to how Mad saw her. Helen didn't want to dwell on that.

Now standing in front of the grand theatre accepting the invitation felt like a bad choice. Mad's face graced several posters, ever the star and Helen felt the sinking feeling that her victory, if she got it at all was going to be short lived. Even with the warmth of Ernest by her side she began to spiral. After all she was kicking a hornets nest even though she knew what it felt like to be stung.

The audience was pensive, taut with held excitement from the moment they sat down on the plush velvet. The sets were fantastic, explosive even and of course anyone but Mad would have been lost in them. Pink floral arrangements, glitter upon glitter like a discotheque had a wedding and thrown up at the after party. The show as a whole was too gauche for Helen's enjoyment; the plot was thin, the songs derivative how it was even nominated left her bewildered until she saw how Mad breathed life into it. Even after ten fucking ridiculous costume changes.

When the curtain finally rose on Madeline again Helen couldn't muster up the same vengeful feelings from outside the theatre, everything she loved about her was on the stage for her to see, gone were the tears she had shed when they were at each others throats and boyfriends that Mad had stolen right under her nose. Nothing else mattered, especially when against all probability Madeline's eyes found hers in the audience and pinned her down with a smile that she knew was meant for her. Helen found herself up from her seat starting a standing ovation feeling eighteen again in the high school auditorium, watching the star, her best friend Madeline Ashton.

The lights came back on, a sea of red velvet as far as the eye could see, even the luxury of it seemed so beige in the aftermath of that performance. Ernest next to her looked to be in the same feeling of exhilaration, which was rude. She practically dragged him out bracing herself to face Mad in her dressing room. The terror seemed to lodge low in her stomach but something else, something more like excitement had nestled beside it. There was a flurry of commotion as they walked through an avalanche of feather boas, tassels and stagehands in the hallway before making it to the dressing room. Helen put her hand up to knock and then paused to take a short breath while she hardened her resolve.

She knocked twice in quick succession.

It was almost as if Stefan, Madeline's assistant, had been waiting for her as he opened the door. Her hand was still raised and she awkwardly turned it into a wave which Stefan matched with a hug that was a little too tight. She could guess how his last two years with Madeline had gone then. Though in her mind if you could survive Madeline Ashton you could probably survive anything which is as much as she had told him last time. Look at both of them somehow able to bear Mad but not strong enough to chase true ambition.

"Do I hear that beautifully nasal mid-Atlantic accent, out there?” Mad sauntered out as if her dressing room was just another stage.

She always knew how to make an entrance and Helen knew as soon as she saw that pink corset that she was lost and would spend the rest of the evening trying to find herself again. Mad knew she didn't need to try that hard for Helen's eyes, she could turn up in a dustbin bag and Helen would still yearn for her. It wasn't as if she dressed up for Ernest, she hadn't even known he was coming.

"This is Mr. no Dr. Ernest Menville, my fiance" Remembering herself Helen introduced the man Mad was currently sizing up with a deadly glare.

Those eyes burned briefly with envy and something else that Helen couldn't quite catch before it was replaced with a characteristic Madeline Ashton smile. Helen couldn't not admit she liked seeing Mad jealous the way she always had.

Between barbed quips at Helen's expense and the clear strain she could see in Mad pretending she wasn't affected by the engagement. Helen felt again the sure rise of victory, a surprise at how hard Mad was trying to bite back her envy, her hardly concealed anger. When Madeline was down she never let it be known and came back twice as hard. Helen watched that shark circle Ernest and started to feel nauseous as he too was trying not to let on how distracted he was by Mad's upper register.

Fuck it was already going so wrong. Helen was having trouble breathing.

A flicker of concern lit in Madeline as she paused her assessment of Ernest, and Helen remembered the Madeline who cared, in her own way of course. When she quit acting in light of Madeline crashing every audition dripping with charm she encouraged her in other things keen to stop her from spiralling into the dark. The times when Helen so engrossed in typing away forgot to eat Mad would show up with food that she pretended to have spare or cook too much of one of the two things she didn't actually burn, complaining that Hel was too irritable when hungry. That Madeline felt lost to her now which made that flicker sting all the more.

Suddenly still and facing her it seemed Madeline had finished her assessment of Ernest. She had a smile on her face, one that made Helen feel involved in some kind of sick joke, it dawned on her then that Mad knew; Helen was settling. As if she was playing it out in her mind how Helen's life with Ernest would turn out like some dull rehashed script she had seen a million times before and was bored immeasurably by it. The unremarkable sex, a simple but tasteful wedding (with far more people on the groom's side), the two point five kids, an affair, the predictable fights that never ended in divorce and then inevitable death. Under Madeline's revealing gaze Helen felt a rush of embarrassment. No, Helen wouldn't feel ashamed for her choices because who was Madeline to judge with her string of meaningless paparazzi primed relationships with male co-stars. At least Helen was being honest to herself right?

Even if this wasn't living up to her true potential, chasing the unobtainable was something she had given up long ago. Regardless, being engaged to Ernest was something she could hold over Madeline who would never let herself have this even though it was now legal. Madeline who the tabloids had become suspicious of and Helen knew of those twitter sleuths convinced of an affair Madeline had with an actress she starred with in an indie thriller no one remembers. The thought made her insides twist. It was horrible to think that she would ever hold that knife to Mad but really it would only be evening out the score.

It felt good to have something that Mad couldn't let herself have, it felt really really good. Helen could be cruel, a smile hovered on her lips.

"Now you both should join me for dinner back at my apartment" Mad purred, seduction on her tongue.

Mad had made her challenge clear and oh was it on for Helen. Whatever they were now, whatever they had been it was still just too addicting to refuse the game set out.

It wasn't surprising that even the facade of Madeline's building was unmissable; a stark, glowing white in contrast to the other buildings that were a few years overdue for a repaint. Even the elevator up to her floor was freshly polished and gold, so shiny Helen could see a distorted reflection of herself and Ernest in it, unrecognisable and unremarkable. When Stefan opened the door his energy betrayed that he knew something was going to go down and despite Helen knowing it already, it still sent a shiver of anticipation through her. She couldn't help worrying at her lip, an old habit.

The stage was set, the pieces in play. The stage being the to exact specification Madeline Ashton apartment, complete with its clash of showroom minimalism and the hostesses own brand of sparkle. The pieces being Helen, Ernest the replaceable fiance and Mad herself the gracious and generous hostess.

Dinner was served, quietly, awkwardly with a collection of 'how are you really Helen?', 'how long are you in town?' and 'are you hoping for another award named after an author no one bothered to read while they were still alive?' that faced increasingly clipped answers and grating laughter. Ernest was oblivious to the tension but couldn't help perking up every time Madeline turned toward him, what she was wearing was entirely too much for a simple hosting of old friends. Of course that was Mad in a nutshell, she never did anything by halves.

The main course was soon done. This had been a terrible idea and Helen was halfway to making excuses to leave when Mad, clearly predicting Helen's next move, beat her to it.

"Oh don't leave so soon, I have a wonderful vintage red, we are only just getting started" A slightly sing song voice, Helen prickled.

"Yes, it would be so rude to leave so soon" Ernest was far too bright, a worrying flicker of excitement in his eyes that he had never shown to Helen before. She remembered the string of boys who asked her out in college just to get close to Madeline but this time as long as she could run she could still hold her relationship with Ernest over Madeline.

Madeline left to grab the promised bottle, and Helen found herself relaxing for just a second, finally aware of all the tension that she had been holding. Silence fell over them. She looked over toward Ernest, his cheeks bright, his demeanour lighter like a puppy that can't help but fawn over the person who was about to step all over him. It was all going terribly wrong.

With a glistening red in hand Madeline sauntered back with the knowledge that the room had died when she had left. Now dressed in a leopard print jumpsuit that seemed not only insanely flattering but fitting for how Mad was ripping bloody chunks of flesh right out of Helen's perfectly formed life. Mad put the bottle down on the table and went straight back to manhandling Helen's fiance, leaning over behind him and looking right into the waiting eyes of Helen.

She was silently begging Madeline to stop, not Ernest. After all he was only a man and even if he wasn't no one could resist when they were fully under Mad's gaze, Helen certainly wasn't someone to judge.

Then when Madeline had turned her body toward Ernest again she kept looking back at Helen a display of 'look at how easy this is for me like it always has been'. Helen found it infuriating and childish, Mad had never been able to let her have anything, it was like she couldn't stand Helen leaving her orbit. God how she wanted to throttle that perfect little neck. She felt her hands tense around her barely touched glass and if her grip was any harder and it wouldn't just be wine that would lay red on the table.

Helen still watched as Mad's hands were all over him, deliberately showing off desperate for her to break. That perfectly manicured hand crept up Ernest's thigh and how Helen wished she was in that chair, Mad pressing up against her. The way she could admit after a lot of therapy that she had thought about so many times before. The sensation to her core so strong it made her flush, she couldn't breathe she had to get out. It didn’t help that the moonlight through the ridiculously huge apartment windows fell on Mad like an undeserved halo because Mad in her element as she was now was nothing short of ethereal to Helen Sharp. She worried at her lip again but didn’t leave.

Even with her body directed to Ernest, Mad kept looking back at Helen.

Like it wasn't even about him.

As if it was all a show she had put on just for Helen.

A silent plea of 'look at him Helly, he isn't good enough for you'.

Because it had always been about Helen.

And Helen had always come back because it had always been about Madeline.

Helen remembered that time back in college when she still had the energy to rise up to Mad's teasing and biting, where it had been a game to get the last word, to see who would run from the intensity first. The night of this party Helen had dressed up in a stunning red gown that was to entice her boyfriend but had only emboldened Madeline.

"I can't believe you would do this Mad, you promised last time"

"Look Hel its clear he is a two timing man whore, he came on to me"

Then the real killer "You deserve better". Softer in contrast to Helen's anger.

"You don't have the right to decide that for me, what because you think I deserve you or something" And Helen who had said it without thinking now watched Madeline's face fall, pale and then contort into disgust like there was nothing else in the world that she would've hated more than having to come to terms with wanting Helen. Despite the fact that Madeline had spent most of the afternoon and well into the evening staring at Helen with that intense look in her eyes.

"Okay then what the hell do you want from me then?"

Madeline never gave her an answer and didn't return until the next day to their dorm. Like clockwork after a heated exchange with that infuriating blonde, Helen found herself inspired to write for the first time in weeks.

"I haven't seen Hel this happy in years" Madeline states through gritted teeth barely biting back that familiar hot flush of envy. Hel sees it anyway, she always does. Then she finally sees what Mad has been trying to cover, hate because she despised Ernest. Oh, Helen realised, it really, really was about her.

Madeline still held eye contact with Helen even as a momentary lapse in concentration caused her to spill a drop of wine on Ernest's shirt. It looked dangerously like blood. She wiped him down with over the top care in full view of Helen, her Hel like it was a dare. To Madeline there was nothing more addicting than those eyes on her, piercing and green.

Was it always going to be this way? Both of them were thinking it, Hel could see it in Mad's eyes. Would they continue to circle each other like this until they ruined each other all because they were too stubborn to concede to a stalemate.

Ernest had excused himself without either of them even noticing, finally embarrassed by his proximity to another woman in front of his fiance. Maybe in any other circumstances he would have been Helen's person.

"Mad" Helen sighed no longer angry, just tired of tricks, of one of them deciding to run away when it all got a little intense. "What do you want with me?"

"W-what?" Before plastering on that winning smile the one that Helen had to force herself to pretend she didn't think about all the time.

Helen rose up from the chair now coming dangerously close into the other woman's orbit, putting her on her back foot. A very dangerous game to play with Madeline Ashton.

"This whole night provoking me, this whole rehashed routine. 'Oh poor Hel brought over a boyfriend, I must take him away' to what end Mad?" So very rarely was Madeline out of words and Helen took full advantage. "For once can't you let me be? Please?" For Helen this was defeat, humiliating honesty.

"Is that really what you want?" A truce with a thinly veiled challenge. Madeline smirked like she had finally got what she wanted.

What Helen wanted she wasn't so sure anymore. Standing next to Madeline she could feel the warmth, her earlier spike of desire like a ghost in her stomach. Maybe Mad could never admit it to herself but Helen could at night in the dark when no one else was there imagining Madeline's touch. If she left now she could continue imagining that perfect hand on her thigh, higher and higher without the inevitable fallout of whatever was happening here now. Between boyfriends she had always thought of Madeline. Always her Mad. The push, the pull, the endless games for better or worse no one excited her like Madeline did.

"I want you to admit it Mad" she didn't need to say anything else. It had been their constant over the years. Madeline wanting without knowing how to ask nicely and Helen pulling away waiting for her to play nice.

"Oh Hel" dripping with sickly sweetness, a hint of sincerity. Helen wanted to wipe that perfect little smile off her face. She could throttle her, tangle her hands in that glamorous blonde. How stupidly perfect Mad was with that look of challenge on her face.

Helen moved even closer now, every inch closer was a finger tighter on the trigger. Helen despised that extra inch Mad had gained on her through the most impractical for carpet heels. Loathed that even now she had to look up at her, shrouded in that star’s shadow. But every step closer she could see that facade break, there were unshed tears held in those pretty blue eyes. Everything they said to each other without words was please. Please don't kiss me, please do, please ruin me but please stop, I can't take it.

If anyone had the thought to hold a match between them at this very moment it would burn up instantly and probably take the whole apartment with it.

A cough loud enough to so cleanly slice through the silence made them jump.

They had forgotten about Ernest because he wasn't what this was about, he probably never had been.

"Well I'm going to wait in the car"

"And I thought he was having so much fun" Mad pouted.

"You were smothering him Mad"

"Did it work?"

Of course it had she already knew it, just like it had in college, just like it had at the four seasons; again and again. This time neither of them were going to run, this time the game was final. Mad still wanted to see her run and then to pull her back again, their own little fucked up cat and mouse game.

"Please just for once Mad ask me" Helen said with conviction, she wouldn't run this time.

"You know I can't" Madeline was more serious now even though she couldn't help the slip of characteristic teasing in her words, the armour of performance.

"Because you are still so scared of what everyone else thinks, even if for the rest of your career you'll be kissing men you feel nothing for" Helen didn't mean to make it sound so harsh.

She felt guilt sweep over her when Mad flinched but Helen was going to be cruel to be kind, they couldn't circle each other forever. Not when she was so close to cornering Mad into the honesty that they were both hungering for.

Madeline’s mask finally fell away, the last of her haughtiness replaced with the Mad she knew who crumpled at rejection. They hadn't truly seen each other like this for so many years, a sharp sadness at so much time lost lodged painfully in Helen's heart.

"I won't say no" Helen felt like holding out an olive branch putting her heart on display for Madeline. If only she asked her to, Helen would stay. Her hands felt shaky reaching ever closer to Mad's hand resting on the table that flinched with the contact but didn't leave.

The Madeline who brought her needed food and held her through her darkest thoughts, the Madeline that had spite to share and stole her boyfriends the one who pushed and pushed. They were all the same person and it terrified and excited Helen in equal measure. The genuine kindness between the bitching and biting, the parts of herself under the performance she kept to give only to Helen.

Mad didn't run when it counted with Helen even at their worst but she always ran from herself. Helen hoped this time would be different because it was hard to stay mad when she wanted so badly to kiss away the tension Madeline was holding in her jaw.

Time stopped, the world stopped spinning, all those cliche terms that Helen felt were overused finally felt real when Madeline brought her hand to cup Helen’s jaw. There was no space to breathe like they were in a vacuum where nothing but them existed. Mad's eyes caught hers in a silent question, 'Are you ready for what happens next?'.

"Yes" Her response was barely audible.

Helen waits more patient than she has been for years for Mad to make her choice. A final chance to do what they have been skirting around for far too long. She can tell as soon as that decision is made when the very air changes as Mad pulls her jaw closer to her so that she finally meets those soft lips. It started gentle which surprised Helen, for Mad was all teeth and sharp smiles but apparently could play nice after all.

By the time Helen’s hands found their way into Madeline’s hair and Mad’s hands went to her back to pull her closer, it was like they couldn’t stop. It quickly escalated and became a little rougher because its what they knew best and really Helen hadn’t completely forgotten how much she wanted to strangle Madeline. At least this was another way she could make Madeline breathless.

When Mad finally pulled away dragging her teeth over Helen's bottom lip, she remembered what breathing was and how she kind of needed to do that. God how perfect Mad looked, not in the unobtainable way she did on stage but her flushed cheeks, smudged red lipstick and those eyes that looked far darker than blue ever should, had Helen feeling an addictive little formation of pride and want.

It was Helen this time who pulled them back to each other. She felt Mad smile into their kiss. After all they both knew that they had time on their side, neither of them were running at least not for tonight.