The Ticket

by magicmumu

On Christmas Eve, Myka gets the greatest gift of all when she's given a ticket for the Polar Express. I know, its not as cracky as it sounds. Helena/Myka femslash. Don't like, get over it.

The Ticket

by Erin Griffin

Fandom: Warehouse 13/Polar Express crossover

Pairing: Myka/Helena, post Reset

Summary: On Christmas Eve Night, Myka receives the greatest gift of all as she travels on the Polar Express.

Spoilers: General knowledge of both the movie and the series in full.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, even though I asked Santa for Christmas.

A/N: Set after Reset, though I have no real details in here. I am not sure, but I think this is this close [ ] to being crackfic. What say you? This fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine alone.

Myka looked at her shaking hand as she tried to read more of her favorite book, The Time Machine. She placed her bookmark inside and closed it, looking at the author's name on the front cover. She sighed as she fought back tears as she thought about that day in Yellowstone. Since then, she wanted nothing more than to be alone with her thoughts, even though it was her thoughts that hurt her more than the day itself. Now, it was Christmas Eve, and she had refused the company of her parents, refused to return phone calls and emails from the Warehouse wishing her a Happy Holiday, and refused to open the gifts that had ended up on her doorstep from the overworked postal people.

With another sad sigh, Myka secured the house and made it slowly up the stairs. Myka did the best she could to keep her thoughts away from everything that troubled her as she lay her head down on her pillow. She forced herself to think of something else, but it was hard, and soon her eyes drooped closed. Tomorrow was Christmas, and knew she wouldn't be able to get out of seeing her parents that day, and so she must prepare herself for plastic smiles around her mugs of peppermint cocoa. She dreaded it even as the last thing she saw was the Minoan Tridant as it was thrust into the earth for a second time...

Twenty minutes later, however, Myka was jolted out of her sleep by the slight clatter from within her home. She leaned towards her bedside table, and remembered too late that she no longer had a gun, Tessla or otherwise. She looked around quickly as the shuffling downstairs continued, and she steeled herself for a fight. This was the wrong house for someone to try and rob. The only thing she could find in her room off hand were shoes and books (both of which too precious to Mya to literally throw away at some intruder), so she tiptoed out of her room and into the bathroom, where she remembered leaving her broom and dustpan after she'd cleaned up the day before. Holding the broom now with both hands, she walked softly down the stairs. She reached the landing and was startled when she saw a figure in red rummaging through a bag in front of him, his large red cloak at times getting in his way, and he had to move it aside. His hair was whiter than she had ever seen anyone's hair, and long. He finally emerged with a small box, which he turned to place it-

"No tree?" this figure muttered. "Myka, Myka..." He sighed sadly as he looked around the room, saw the book on the table top, and went to it. He read the name and placed the gift on top of it. Myka walked away from the stairs. She noticed now that her fireplace was alive with fire, as if this figure had taken the time to start one up. This made her no longer fearful, but angry for the invasion of her space.

"Who the hell are you?" Myka said suddenly, having watched the figure for long enough. Her voice seemed harsh and loud in the night, where as the figure's voice had been clear, but soft as well in comparison. The figure jumped at the sound of it, and looked up almost guiltily.

The man (for Myka absolutely refused to believe him to be Santa Claus) looked at Myka and smiled somewhat sadly at her. The agent took another step towards him, raising her broom to swing a warning swing, but the man didn't seem affected by this. He didn't back away, nor did he even blink. "Myka Bering," he said warmly with a twinkle in his eyes. The agent stared him down, but he only laughed his jolly laugh, even though he seemed a little more sad now. He didn't answer her question of who he was, as both of them knew that Myka wouldn't have believed him no matter what he said. "I suppose you don't remember," he said sadly. "No, you wouldn't."

Myka frowned. She wasn't sure what this man was going on about, and assumed he was some lunatic who thought he really WAS Santa Claus. The man slowly moved towards the table where he had placed the small box and brought it to Myka, who raised the broom again. The figure handed the box to the agent, who didn't otherwise move. Finally, when the man took another step to her, she swung, hard. The broom went through him, as if through a hologram, and the momentum of her swing had her almost twirling. The man didn't waver, and his smile remained as he held out the box to her. "Wha-" Myka began to ask, but found she couldn't really speak.

This had to be a dream. Nothing else made any sense. The figure didn't move, still holding the small white box for her to take. She held the broom in such a way that she could protect herself, though she wondered if she needed to. "There is no reason to fear this box. Or me. I know that this year hasn't been the best to you, but you have given the children of the world another Christmas. The least I could do is give you this."

Myka stared at him. How could he possibly know all of that? After staring at the man long and hard, she finally accepted the box, and once she did, the figure vanished. He hadn't walked away or ran out of her house or anything like that. He vanished, fading away into nothingness, his bag going with him. All that was left of the figure was the box in her hand, and she stared at it while chills ran down her spine. She slowly moved her hands so that one was on the top and other held the bottom. The box was light, as if there was nothing at all inside, which was what Myka at first had thought, that it was a box for decoration. As she looked inside, she saw a golden ticket, which glittered in the firelight. Slowly, she tucked the lid under the bottom of the box so she could take the ticket out.

She looked at it, and read, "The Polar Express, Round Trip". Her face twisted in confusion. Everything about this night was wrong. The more she told herself this was a dream, the more it felt real to her, and the more she let her self believe that this could be real, she remembered the extraordinay.

Slowly, she walked to the chair where she had been reading earlier that night, but before she could sink into it again to stare at this golden ticket, she heard as well as felt a rumble outside her window. At the same time, she saw a bright white light that had her moving to see just what was going on. Shocked an amazed, she saw a grand locomotive moving down her street. This was impossible, as she lived nowhere near train tracks. Yet still it was there, tearing through the street, louder than anything, and yet no one moved from their houses to see what was the matter. She slipped into her shoes and opened the door.

Outside, she watched as the train came closer, and she saw on the front 'The Polar Express'. She looked down at the broom, as well as the ticket still in her hands and then back at the grand train. What was going on? She knew then that this had to be a dream. There was no other explaination for it. Myka looked up again as the train's horn sounded, and to her surprise, the train seemed to have been slowing down until it stopped right in front of her house. Myka shivered slightly in the snow, but she didn't otherwise move. The front door on the train opened, and a tall, thin man stepped down. He checked his pocketwatch as he took two steps from the train and then called, "AAALL ABOARD!" This conductor looked right at her then, and gestured her into the train.

Though Myka knew this was a dream - it had to be - she was curious. She never had dreams like this before, and she wondered if it being Christmas made the difference, or if there was something special she needed to pay attention to. It also didn't help that she was curious about the train, and the part of her that had been awakened by the world of HG Wells wanted nothing more than to explore the train. In this way, the agent almost felt like a kid again, but she forced herself to walk slowly, using the broom as almost a cane as she walked forward. She wasn't yet ready to get rid of something familiar. She turned back to her house, surprised to see that there was no light in the window, which meant that the fire was no longer burning in her living room, or perhaps it never was. Then again, Myka told herself, this was all a dream, right? It was that thought which made her turn back to the conductor, who was again looking at his pocket watch. He seemed almost impatient as he helped Myka get onto the train.

Myka took in the brightness within the train, and saw all of the children laughing and talking to eachother in the first compartment. She continued to walk back and back, remembering what the figure had said to her. It was really then that she realized just what she had done, and what she had saved. She hurried to find a compartment that was empty (as she would look silly among all of the children, being the only adult she saw so far besides the conductor), and was glad she found one in the back, where she sat down. Straight ahead of her was the red lever that she knew even without the large sign saying so, that it was the emergency brake. Myka looked to her right and out the window, but it was covered with mist, which she had to wipe away with the sleeve of her pajama top. The broom rested beside her, standing up across the seat as she looked out, and she saw her house slowly move by as the train started up again.

Myka watched in wonder as the snowcapped houses and trees went by her, most covered with lights that shone in the night, but as the train picked up speed, she felt herself felling a little bit dizzy, and she forced herself to look away. The conductor came in then, and it was here that she was able to see him clearly and up close. She sat up straight as she looked at him. He looked like Tom Hanks. His eyes were slightly sad, just as they had been in one of her favorite movies 'You've Got Mail', and they looked at her as if to know her plight. His mostache was large, but old fashioned, as if of a different time. Of Helena's time...

"Your ticket, Miss Bering," he said softly, kindly to her. Her grip on the ticket tightened for the slightest moment before she handed it out to him. She trusted that the ticket had done its purpose of getting her there, but she looked horrified at the hole puncher the conductor produced. She almost couldn't watch as her beautiful ticket was punched into- not once, but many times, his hands moving so quickly that she didn't believe her eyes at first. When he handed the ticket back to her, she saw that there was now a 'V' on it. She looked up at the conductor to ask him about it, but his back was now to her as he retreated towards the front of the train again.

From here, Myka could only curl her feet under her to help with the cold and try to think things through. She wondered where the train and the dream was going to take her (it didn't say on her ticket), and she hoped it would be a good dream in the end. At least she was aware of this dream, so she could try to alter its course if needbe, but something told her that maybe she wouldn't need to. She thought about the children in the train with her, and she wondered if they were going with her, or perhaps if she was going with them. She would soon find out. Minutes passed, but Myka didn't seem to feel them as she sat in the compartment, alone with her thoughts. There was another stop, and Myka watched as the conductor spoke to a small redhead boy, and a few minutes later had a companion in the compartment with her. She smiled at him, and he hugged his teddybear closer to him. She almost knew how he felt. There had been a lot of times where even her white bear wasn't enough, but would have helped. Many more minutes passed, and she lifted her eyes from the now sleeping child when the door to the compartment opened and the conductor looked to her.

"This is your stop," he said, which automatically had Myka looking out the window. They were now outside a small cottage, and she hadn't a clue as to where they were. Slowly, she stood and walked to the open door, carefully going down the steps. There was no snow on the ground, but it weas still cold, as if that may yet change. She hugged herself and looked back. She wanted to go back onto the train with the children, to join them wherever they were going, but she felt that she was supposed to be there, so she looked at the cottage door. A light went on, and she fought the urge to hide. Myka watched as the Tom Hanks look alike went back into the grand train, and hung from a rail as he called "Keep your ticket on you at all times. Do not lose it." Myka looked down at her ticket then, surprised that there was now a return time on it.

Then she jumped when she saw a light on in a window and a female frame sillohette in one of the windows, staring at her. She swallowed, and turned to watch the Polar Express leave. The figure didn't seem to see the grand locomotive, and this confused Myka, as it was so large, so loud. She watched as the train disappeared into the night, and when she turned again, she was surprised that Helena was there, squinting at her in the darkness. "Myka?" she asked as if she too was trying to convince herself that she was in a dream.

"HG," Myka said in return. Her voice was a bit harsher than she meant it, or perhaps it wasn't harsh enough.

Even so, Helena took the brunette in, and when Myka shivered in the wind that blew suddenly around them, said, "Come in side. We'll talk."

Myka wasn't sure if she wanted to do this, but it wasn't as if she had any other choice. From the time on her ticket, she still had hours before the Polar Express were to come back for her, so she nodded and followed the other woman into the cottage. If nothing else, she needed to know what time it was then so she knew to look out for the Polar Express. As she entered the cottage, she saw how much it suited the woman, and Myka recognized some of the items from HG Wells' home in England. She wondered how this could be. Was it just that Helena needed some time to herself to think on things away from other people? Was that what this was, a new kind of isolation which served to be barely a step above the Bronze Sector?

There was that awkward moment where Helena showed Myka to the table and offered tea, which the brunette refused. Helena stood for another moment before she joined the agent at the table, where the silence lingered. Myka could see the change in her. No longer was there a confident, cocky woman, but someone who was broken and showed her years. "How did you get here?" Helena asked. Myka remembered that Helena hadn't seemed to see The Polar Express leaving, and to suddenly see the agent there on her door step must have come as quite a shock. Not to mention she must have been hidden away where the Warehouse family wasn't supposed to know about her.

"I have my ways," Myka said, slowly tucking the ticket away in the breast pocket of her pajama shirt.

"Claudia?" Helena asked. Sure, Myka thought, let's go with that. Still, she couldn't seem to lie to Helena, so she shook her head and left it at that. Helena stared at Myka strangely, but she didn't say anything more. She saw a grandfather clock against the wall in a corner, and noticed the time to be eleven thirty. She thought to the time on her ticket, realizing it wasn't as much time as she needed for the talk she was certain they were about to have.

As if to sense these thoughts or ones like them, Helena cleared her throat and said, "Would it be absolutely futile to apologise for what I've done? I know that... that..."

Myka swallowed the lump in her throat and put a hand on Helena's. This was her dream, and as much as she willed Helena to stop speaking, the woman went on until Myka stood up. "Its Christmas," she said, shaking her head, "I dont' want to talk about all of that right now." This surprised even her.

Helena also stood and faced her. Her hair fell slightly over her eyes, and she bought a shaking hand to move the strands away. "Yes, it is," the writer said softly. Myka took a step into Helena's space, and catching her eye, leaned in for a kiss. If she was going to have a weird dream like this, she wanted it to go her way, at least a little bit. If she woke up in the morning to a bad Christmas, at least she could say she had a good dream. Weird, but good.

Myka felt her kiss returned immediately, as if the other woman had wanted nothing more than the two of them together like this. Myka felt Helena's hand slowly move down her arm and eventually interlink their fingers, which she brought upwards to her shoulder. Myka took another step so that their fronts were now touching, breast to breast, her knee inbetween Helena's legs. Their kisses quickened, slowed, become rough and soft, languid and rushed as they slowly made it out of their clothes and under the blankets on Helena's bed. As they kissed and exlored and touched and relived everything about eachother, hardly any words were spoken except for names which were called in the night. Myka felt the closest she had to okay since Helena had been carted away from the Warehouse.

Myka woke up to the familiar rumbling underneath her as well as the sound of the the Polar Express' horn. She was confused momentarily. Was this still a part of her dream? Had time skipped ahead? She looked at the clock. The grand locomotive was right on time. She looked over to Helena, who slept on in this racket, and part of Myka felt it was better that it happened this way. The agent got out of bed as to not disturb the other woman, and she checked her pocket, sighing when she felt her ticket was still there. She looked back longingly at Helena, but then heard, "AAAALL ABOARD!" from outside. She found herself hurrying out of the cottage and towards the train, her heart hammering in her chest and her mind screaming at her to go back inside to Helena. She trotted toward the train and climbed up its steps. She looked back out to see that the conductor was looking at his watch and then back up at her, his kind eyes sad again as they looked at her.

Myka hurried back to the compartment she had claimed earlier that night, watching as the children seemed a lot more animated now. Where had they gone? She was glad to see them all so happy, but when she got back to the compartment she was in before, and took her seat next to where she'd left her broom, she was surprised to see the redheaded boy there, still alone. This time he had a bell in his hand, and he stared at it. He shook it once, and Myka heard nothing. Poor kid. The bell was beautiful, and would have been even moreso had it actually rang for him. Myka was further surprised however, when she saw the boy brighten, shaking the bell again, and again. Myka still heard nothing. She smiled at the boy when their eyes met, and then she quickly looked away, wondering what it all meant, wondering why she wished she too could hear the bell, if, as Myka assumed, the bell actually rang for the boy and not her.

Again, Myka used her sleeve to wipe away the fog, and was almost face to face with Helena, who stood outside in her robe. She locked eyes with the raven haired woman after Helena took in the large train with wide eyes. The look of shock became one of sadness when she looked into those dark eyes of her lover. Myka tried to tell Helena that she had to go, that it was on her ticket and that it was all a dream. She wasn't supposed to stay. Slowly, the train began to move again after the horn blasted. Tears welled in Myka's eyes as she kept them the best she could on Helena as the train picked up speed.

The door to her compartment opened quickly, and she saw the conductor there. "Your ticket, young sir," he said to the boy, smiling when he saw the bell. The boy searched for his ticket and found it, handing it to the conductor. Both he and Myka watched as the conductor punched more holes into the ticket, and Myka was just barely able to see that he had punched out the word 'BELIEVE' into the whole of the ticket. The boy put the bell into his pocket and stared at his ticket in wonder. His eyes widened and he smiled with tears in them. He brought in a deep, quivering breath as his tears fell, and Myka felt badly for the boy, except she noticed right away that they had been tears of joy. With his ticket in one hand and the bell in the other, he smiled and looked out the window. "And yours," the conductor said just as warmly.

Myka handed her ticket to the conductor, wondering if he was going to make out the word 'BELIEVE' into her ticket as well, from the V that was already there, but to her surprise, it wasn't so. She watched his hands and the word that eventually formed. He handed her the ticket, and she saw the word 'LOVE' there. She thought immediately about Helena, about her sorrowful eyes as she left her there in the night like that, and her own tears sprang to her eyes, these of sadness, unlike the boy's. She looked back up at the conductor, who nodded at her, his eyes giving her the clear messege. She jumped up and took the steps to the red lever, and she yanked it as hard as she possibly could. She felt the jerk of the brakes immediately, and she held on. The train squealed as it tried to stop. The conductor gave her a slightly stern look this time, but he held on to the seats, and even caught the boy, who dropped his bell. Once the train slowed more, she bent down to pick up the boy's bell, and handed it to him. In passing, the bell was jostled slightly, and clear and crisp in the silence of the compartment, Myka heard it, the ringing of the bell. She took a step back, her eyes flickering from the bell to the boy to the conductor. The conductor gave her the slightest of nods, and she was off.

Myka hurried out of the compartment of the train, her feet thudding against the stairs as she hurried down them. The train hadn't quite come to a full stop, but she didn't care. She jumped, landing on her feet, but stepping foraward a few paces. She turned to the conductor, who tipped his hat and called for the train to start up again. Seeing the long figure in the distance, Myka turned to run towards it. Before she saw the woman clearly, she could hear the woman's sobs. Myka's feet faultered, and then she forced herself to run faster so she might get to the woman quicker and help her dry her tears. She was glad that there was no snow here to slow her down, and she called out to Helena, who lifted her head. When she got to Helena, Myka flung her arms around the woman, and a few seconds later felt arms around her middle as if the other woman wasn't sure Myka was really there. They held eachother there in the night - wherever it was they were - and their tears mixed into their kisses.

Many minutes later, Myka sighed contentedly as she spooned with Helena, and the two women went back to sleep.

When Myka next opened her eyes, she recognized her own bedroom. Knowing what she wouldn't find, she looked to the empty space in her bed and took in a deep breath. She felt her breast pocket, but there was nothing there. She fought back tears, and jumped when there was another knock at her door, which was what had startled the agent awake to begin with. She jumped out of bed, knowing that it was her parents. She wasn't sure if her sister and her current boyfriend was going to be there. There had been a lot of uncertainty when she'd last spoken to her mother about it. She put a robe on over her pajamas, and ran down the stairs. Myka stopped when she looked into her living room as if she might the man in red again. Standing up next to her chair was her white broom, with a bright red bow on its handle. Next to it on the table, like the night before, was the small box on top of her copy of The Time Machine. She gasped and hurried towards it.

She took the box into her hands and opened it. Like before, it was light, and Myka found herself holding her breath as she peeked inside. There was her ticket to the Polar Express, hole-punched with the word 'LOVE'. She couldn't stop the wide smile on her face. It hadn't been a dream. "But if it hadn't been a dream, how did I get back here?" she asked. There was a silence that answered her. She brought the ticket to her lips and kissed it before there was another knock on the door, this one more insistant than the other two. She placed the ticket back into the box and hurried to the door. She opened it widely to see not only her parents, but also the four people she missed the most from the Warehouse. Her eyes widened, as did her smile. "Hi! Sorry, you woke me up. But that's okay. Come in!" She ushered them all inside, and saw Claudia had her hands filled with large tupperware bowls, followed by Leena who held the same.

"Show us the kitchen because it is heavy!" Claudia sang. Myka pointed the way, and she looked to Pete, who smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Myks." Myka smiled with a small blush on her cheek.

The agent watched as her family went to work, putting up a wreath and a string of lights before Claudia came back and practically jumped her. Then the hacker punched her on the arm. "OW-!"

"You deservbed it for not writing to me for almost 4 months!" Claudia cried. She then jumped on Myka again.

"I'm sorry," Myka said, holding on to Claudia and kissing her hair. "I'm sorry," she said again. There was a cough, and Myka looked up. Artie motioned for her to come with him.

"No, I am not done getting my 'Myka Huggle-time'. You, Artie McScrooge will have to wait."

"I'll be right back," Myka assured the hacker before untangling herself from the younger woman. She followed Artie so that they were out of earshot. Then, Artie took something from a large inside pocket of his coat. Myka saw that it was a folder.

"This was slid under my door last night, but it is for you." Artie handed the folder to Myka and opened it. Then she looked up at Artie.

"But this is-"

"Its Helena files from the last 4 months, yes. I know. I had no idea what they had planned for her, but from the looks of it, she seems to be getting better. Oh! This must have fallen off of it," the man said as he reached into his pocket again and handed something to Myka.

There was a post it note that must have been on top of the folder. It was a slightly larger post it from the ones that people usually see. On it read:

"To be delivered to Myka O. Bering.

Myka-

Remember, keep your ticket on you always.

-S.C"

Myka's mouth hung open as she read the words again. Her eyes widened and she looked through the folder at the picture of Helena, her beautiful love, and she saw the last page, which spoke about her transfer to a safehouse for the remainder of her rehabilitation.

"I hope this helps, Kiddo," Artie said, squeezing her shoulder as he passed her.

Myka hurried to her room and placed the folder on her bed. She made plans to read it in full when she was alone after everyone left. She went back down the stairs to see that her family had distributed the gifts, and Claudia had saved her a seat on the sofa next to her. As soon as she sat down, Claudia rested her head on her shoulder while she argued over whether she or Pete got to go first. Myka laughed at their antics, and as she sat back, she found herself suddenly in the Christmas spirit.