Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the creators, actors, or anyone involved with the making of this wonderful SyFy show, Warehouse 13. I am not using this literary work for monetary gain. I am only borrowing these characters and previously created plots to have a basis for my imagination. In other words, I love this show. I never want it to end.

A/N: I will not most likely not have access to the internet over the holidays. I wanted to write a Christmas story for the Warehouse fandom, and I thought I would just go ahead and post it early. I know that it may seem out of character, but I had to hurry and post it if I wanted it to be up before the New Year. For some of the text I had to make up some facts that aren't cannon. Sorry if it seems rushed. I hope you all understand.

Christmas Eve

It was Christmas time at the B&B, as evident by the loads of decorations on the walls, the ornamented tree in the sitting room, and the stockings residing over the lit fire place. They had just finished their late dinner, and it was getting toward the time when they get ready for bed. Steve was out in town, HG and Claudia were at the Warehouse, and Myka was reading a book in her room. Pete had wanted to open gifts on Christmas Eve, but the rest of the Warehouse gang insisted that they wait until Christmas day. Of course, Pete couldn't resist exploring in his pile of presents when no one was looking. He picked up a neatly wrapped box, no larger than one of Myka's classic books, and shook it softly.

"PETE! Put the present down." Myka ordered from the doorway behind Pete with a glass of water in one hand. She was wearing dark skinny jeans, her signature boots, and a blue long sleeved knitted sweater. Her hair was straightened, and she had on a light dusting of makeup. Having caught Pete red handed, she had her free hand on her hip and a scowl on her face. He instantly dropped the box. Pete hated that look, so he sat there, frozen. He said the first thing that came to mind.

"Do we have any cookies?"

"No Pete, you ate the last one for a midnight snack yesterday."

"Awh." He pouted. "I am gonna make more!"

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't know how to use the new oven."

The B&B's ancient oven had finally broken down. They ordered a new one, and it was very high tech.

"I'll read the instruction manual."

"Yeah, and when do you ever read manuals." Myka quipped.

"Heh. Never."

"My point." Myka turned and was getting ready to go back to her room to read.

"Well then you can teach me!" Pete said, all too giddy.

"Why not get Claudia or HG to do it?" Myka asked.

"Well, because they still need to read the manual. You've already read it, and with your memory, it will be really easy! Please, Myka?"

How could she say no to her best friend, with those little sad puppy dog eyes?

"Oh all right."

"Yes!" Pete said, doing a happy dance.

"You get the ingredients, and I will be right back."

"Okay."

Ten minutes later, Pete was pouring sugar over the bowl with the ingredients haphazardly tossed into it. Myka walked in, glanced at the contents of the bowl, and shook her head with disgust.

"Pete, why did you add extra sugar?" Myka asked.

"How could you tell?"

"I think anyone with eyes can see that you added at least a half cup too much. Plus, you have a half cup measuring instrument in your hand." Myka said, as she pointed at the cup.

"Now why did you add extra?"

"Because I like sugar!"

"But then the cookies are going to be too sweet."

"That's what makes them good!"

"Yes, but they won't taste good anymore since you added a half of a cup extra. At least take a little out."

"Fine." Pete gave in, and took a quarter cup out. "Can we agree now?"

Sighing, Myka agreed. "It will have to do."

They duo finished their baking and sat down in front of the fireplace with mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies to enjoy the rest of the evening.

"Thanks for helping me,Myka."

"Yup. It's not like I haven't read HG Wells' The Time Machine before."

"Yeah, in all, since we've been at the Warehouse, I've counted fifteen times."
"I read it a lot when I was a child. Now, with the real HG Wells in our presence, I understand the book one hundred percent better. It's great."

"I read a book of hers when I was a sophomore in high school." Pete ventured.

"Really? Which one?"

" The Invisible Man." He replied.

"Did you like it?" Myka asked.

"I don't remember." He said, innocently.

Myka laughed and lightly punched her partner's arm.

"Oh Pete, don't you ever change."

"I don't plan on it. Can I open a present now?"

"No. Tomorrow."

"Okay." He said, defeated. There was no use arguing with his stubborn partner.

"Hey Myka, I know in my head that he isn't real, but how is Santa supposed to get down the chimney if there is a fire in it?"

"Ask Artie in the morning."
"I plan on it."

"Pete, what did you do as a child on Christmas?"

"Oh, we would have such fun. My parents would make us wait until after Christmas dinner to open our main presents. In the morning, my sister and I would wake up at the crack of dawn. We would run into our parent's room and jump on them to wake them up. Then, since we were allowed to open our stockings in the morning, we would excitedly rip them open. After we examined our goods, mom would make us a pancake mountain. My sister usually ate three, and I ate the other ten or fifteen."

"I'm surprised you aren't fat." Myka said, as she giggled.

"Me too, actually. Then, since my father was a firefighter, we would help out with the fire stations annual gift drive. We would collect gifts throughout November, and then distribute them to the poor children in the city on Christmas day. I actually enjoyed it, surprisingly. Then we would come home, eat a big early dinner at around five, and then open presents. That's about it."

"Sounds marvelous." Myka said.

"How about you?" Pete asked, genuinely interested. He grabbed another cookie from the plate, and re-settled down to listen to Myka's tale.

"Christmas was never really a big deal at my house. We would sleep late, get up, scrounge around the fridge for breakfast which usually ended up being some fruit and some toast, and then we would part our separate ways for a while. We didn't have stockings, and we weren't allowed to even go into the room with the presents in it. They were in the back storeroom, locked in. The reason for that was because of visitors to our store; it was just a security precaution. My dad had this philosophy that the store should stay open 365 days a year, rain or shine. I don't know why, but he insisted on keeping the store open for extended hours on Christmas. Usually, I would go back to my room and read a book until dinner. Typically, we ate at around seven, and then we would gather around in the storeroom for presents. Our parents were by no means rich, and my dad took away my "childish" belief in Santa at a very young age. I usually got two presents; a book and a small quantity of money or something useful. They were very nice, and I appreciated them. Tracy got two presents as well; almost always she got some nice jewelry and something useful. She enjoyed hers, too. I just wasn't into jewelry and she wasn't into books. Then we would go to bed and that was that. The decorations would come down the next day, and life resumed."

"Sounds like it got boring after a while."

"It did. I haven't had a super fun Christmas for a while."

"I'm sorry Myks."

"No problem. I am glad I get to spend Christmas here with everybody this year."

"Me too. I mean, I love my family, but shopping is just to girly for my masculine figure." Pete and Myka laughed.

"Well I am going to turn in. It is way passed my bed time." Myka informed, as she glanced a the clock which read ten thirty pm.

"Me too. Good night, Myka."

"Good night Pete." With that, Myka left her partner on the couch, and headed upstairs. Little did she know, that her story had Pete's gears turning.

Knowing that Claudia and HG more thank likely lost track of time, he assumed they were still at the Warehouse. He pulled out his Farnsworth and called Claudia.

"Hey Claudia, HG. I need your help…"