I could find very few things wrong with the Warehouse 13 series finale, because in a way we didn't say goodbye to these characters for good, we left our hearts open to new beginnings. As a dedicated Bering and Wells shipper, I thought I'd write an ending that suited the unsinkable ship that is Myka Bering and H.G. Wells. Here's to Warehouse 13, and may your world always be filled with endless wonder.
Myka Bering walked slowly down the Noel Aisle in Warehouse 13 with a sad smile on her face. Not even the permanent falling snow and holiday background music could cheer her up, because she knew that eventually it would all be gone.
Everything she had worked for in the past five years was about to disappear, all thanks to that bastard Valda. Flashing back to his untimely death in Egypt, she wished that the Regent had stayed dead. Maybe then she wouldn't have to go through each day wondering if it was her last.
God, listen to her. Even her cancer hadn't ever made her feel this bad. Physical pain she had a tight handle on—she had to as a Secret Service Agent—but she was never that good with emotions.
That was probably why her and Pete got along so well. He never had problems expressing what he was feeling, and while that got him into trouble more often then not, Myka admired how he never apologized for his feelings.
And Claudia, how Myka would miss her sarcastic attitude and brilliant mind. Out of all of them, Claudia had nothing to fear from the moving of the Warehouse. She would grow to be the caretaker, like Mrs. Frederic was before her, and would always be a part of this world.
Her Farnsworth suddenly buzzed, jolting her out of her reverie. She flipped it on just as Artie's face materialized. "Myka, grab Claudia and H.G. and get over here. It's time."
Myka sighed, flipped her Farnsworth shut, and turned to go back the way she came. All good things had to come to an end, she just didn't want them to.
Ten minutes later with Helena and Claudia in tow, Myka met with the rest of the team, who were seated around an ancient stone table. Mrs. Frederic sat at the far end, and the caretaker beckoned them forward. "Myka, Helena, Claudia, welcome. Today we are seated at what is commonly known now as Arthur's Roundtable. In its prime, it was used as a meeting place for King Arthur and his knights, but today it is being repurposed for a different use."
Artie nodded and continued where Mrs. Frederic left off, "Everyone here has a defining moment from their time here at the warehouse, and it's important that we share them with one another to understand how lucky we are to be a part of this world. Helena, would you care to explain how this artifact works?"
H.G. nodded sagely. "All you need to do is touch the table, and it will sort through your memories before settling on one particular one to show to the others."
Pete and Jinks both looked uncomfortable sitting at the table, and even Claudia seemed unusually quiet. Myka quickly realized that she was to be the one to start things off.
Breathing in deeply, she reached out to touch the stone table, and it flashed with a bright blue aura as her entire career at the Warehouse unfolded before everyone's eyes before settling on her defining moment.
"Agent Bering, it seems we are forever destined to meet at gunpoint."
XXX
Endless Wonder
XXX
Vision-H.G. smirked, finding absolute delight at the look on the woman's face. She didn't seem at all threatened by the gun currently being pointed at her.
"H.G. Wells," vision-Myka growled under her breath. "You are going back to the bronze sector!"
"Oh come now, Agent Bering, what did I do to you to incur such wrath?" Helena asked sweetly.
"You killed a man, Wells!"
"He was quite happy to kill all of you first! You should be thanking me for that," the writer argued. Vision-Claudia watched from a distance with a small smile on her face. She couldn't quite explain it, but there was something special about Myka and Helena's relationship. They argued like an old married couple.
The vision began fast-forwarding itself, as Myka and Claudia figured out the cause of the spontaneous combustion. Everyone watched as Helena saved Myka from a speeding car with her trusty grappler, and the quick look that passed between the two of them, like a spark from a growing flame.
Before long, the blue aura began to fade out of existence, the last clear image being of vision-Myka reading a hastily-written note that sat atop H.G.'s Grappler.
Keep it. You can owe me.
"Uh…" Myka stammered, clearly flustered by the memory that had been chosen. "I'm… I'm gonna go before I either start crying or killing things. Yeah, I'll be back later."
"Myka!" She heard Helena's voice call out to her, but she didn't respond.
She stood up and backed slowly away from the table before running away, a million thoughts running through her head.
XXX
That night, Myka stood on the balcony overlooking the Warehouse, nursing a beer while the others had a party inside the office. She felt like an idiot for running away, but she didn't think out of all her memories, that one would appear. Her relationship with Helena had never developed into anything, even after all they had been through together.
God, I'm stupid, she berated herself, taking a healthy swig of her beer and leaning on the railing.
"Myka?" a melodious voice asked, and Myka's entire body relaxed. Just the person she wanted to talk to. Without turning around, Myka began to speak.
"I guess it's set in stone then. The Warehouse is moving, and we're powerless to stop it," Myka said, taking a sip of her beer and looking out at the magnificent sight before them. "I've always hated feeling powerless."
"As have I. Once you've truly experienced that I don't think you can ever go back. When Christina died, my whole world collapsed and I kept telling myself that I would never allow myself to love again. I'd never allow myself to feel that sense of utter despair." Helena fiddled with her own drink as she contemplated what to say next.
Myka turned to look at Helena and said, "Helena, I—"
"Look, Myka, you don't have to say anything, not with everything that's happened. God knows we've been dancing around each other for years now. I just wanted to let you know that if you ever want to…well, explore our relationship, I'm all for it."
Myka's cheeks reddened. "Oh. Uh, that sounds…ah, fuck it. That sounds awesome. And maybe the beer is making me a little braver than normal, but believe me when I say that I really like you Helena. I have since the moment you held a gun to Pete Lattimer's head dressed in that ridiculous dress."
Helena chuckled lightly, "And I've always been rather fond of government agents."
They stared at each other for a single moment, simply enjoying each other's presence, before Myka cleared her throat and gestured for H.G. to join her at the balcony. The two of them stood in silence while the party continued inside.
"This can't really be the end, can it?" Myka said softly.
Helena smiled gently, and took Myka's hand in her own. "No, I have a feeling that this is just the beginning."
She closed the distance between them and without the slightest bit of hesitation, they kissed.
XXX
"You see, Pete, I called it! I told you they would kiss before the night was over," Claudia said smugly, watching as the two women stepped back from each other, unaware that they were being watched.
"What?" Pete whined, his mouth half-full with food. "No fair. I used to be so much better at betting."
Claudia grinned and held out her hand. Pete groaned and pulled fifty dollars out of his wallet, handing it to the young agent. "Thank you!"
"Woof!" Trailer interrupted, jumping on Claudia and pawing at her hand.
"What is it, Trai?" Trailer woofled and trotted off to grab a piece of paper from Pete's desk. He handed it to Pete, who burst out laughing.
"Claud, remember when we made this bet? We were fooling around in the animal aisle and Trailer was wearing one of Cesar Millan's dog collars. He wanted in on the bet, remember?"
Claudia frowned, snatching the paper from Pete's hands. "That does not count…does it?"
"Trailer bet it would happen before ten tonight."
Claudia's smile dropped and she pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket to check the time. 9:28. "Ah, damn it."
Reluctantly she handed over Pete's fifty dollars, throwing in another fifty for her part of the bet, and tossing the wad of cash to the dog. "Satisfied, Trailer?"
"Woof!"
"What is he even going to use that money for?"
"I can't believe we got out-conned by a dog…"