With the morning sun shining through the windows, the team sat around the breakfast table at Leena's. They chatted jovially and helped themselves to the pastries in the middle of the table. Claudia and Pete's friendly bickering filled the air, Leena walked around refilling coffee cups and Myka chewed quietly on a danish. When Artie stood up and tried to get attention, the conversation didn't fade. After a few attempts at clearing his throat, his patience wore thin.
"ALRIGHT," he shouted. Claudia and Pete were startled enough to stop their discussion and Myka raised her gaze to look at Artie's eyebrows, which were humorously furrowed in frustration. As soon as everybody's eyes were on him, he began to hand out case files.
"A woman in Cincinnati woke up three days ago. Her husband did not. He remains asleep as of now, and they're losing him fast. Some sort of consciousness-related artefact is more than likely the culprit so I've pulled some possible matches–"
"Wait, Artie," Myka interrupted. "Aren't you missing something?"
Artie looked around the room briefly. "No," he answered in an obvious tone of voice.
"HG isn't here yet." Myka pulled her head to the right. Pete shot Myka a dark look and Artie averted his gaze, continuing his briefing as if he had never been interrupted. Myka pushed her chair back with a screech and muttered under her breath.
"You are unbelievable." She strode out of the room and walked up the stairs with heavier footfalls than necessary.
When Myka reached the landing at the top of the staircase, she turned in the direction of HG's room. Listening at the door before knocking, she heard only silence. She tapped the door gently and called out to the woman inside.
"Helena, it's me," she said. "Are you awake?" A moan in response from inside prompted Myka to open the door just enough to poke her head inside. She saw HG still in bed, facing the door and squinting at the figure poised to enter the room.
"Myka? Have I overslept, darling?" her voice broke the silence. Myka walked over to the bed gingerly and knelt by HG's side. She was flushed and she lay with her hand pressed to her forehead. Myka's brow furrowed.
"Helena, you don't look so good," Myka said. HG laughed weakly and gave Myka a sidelong glance.
"Well, I'm sure if I saw you first thing in the morning I could say the same of you," she responded. Myka smiled, shaking her head.
"That's not what I meant," she said as she raised a hand to HG's cheek, which was radiating heat that Myka could feel even before their skin made contact. "You're burning up… Are you feeling alright?"
"Not particularly, to be truthful," HG answered as she removed Myka's hand from her cheek. "But one must not let the trivialities of life obstruct one's day." She threw off the covers as she sat up, revealing her plaid pyjama pants and lavender camisole. Myka suppressed a smile to see that HG's arms and chest were covered with tiny red spots.
"Chicken pox," Myka said in wonder, reaching out to touch one of the spots in confirmation.
"Pardon?" HG raised her eyebrows at Myka. Myka raised her gaze to meet HG's, allowing a smile to creep onto her face.
"Chicken pox," Myka repeated. "Varicella. You know, it's really contagious and almost everyone has had it by the time they go into grade school… Don't scratch!" she added, swiping HG's well-manicured hand away from its movements over her speckled collarbone.
"Varicella!" HG's eyes widened. "A disease of children! How positively humiliating… Although, I don't suppose 150 years encased in bronze does much for one's immune system." She cracked a smile, bringing her hand up to the back of her neck. Myka intercepted it and brought it back down to rest on the bed.
"Don't scratch," Myka repeated. "You'll scar. And lie back down, you're not going to the Warehouse any time soon. And for that matter, neither am I." Myka stood and planted her hands on her hips.
"But it's terribly contagious, darling, you should avoid contact with me." HG curled into a cross-legged position on the bed. Myka cocked her head to the left.
"Like most normal people, I had chicken pox when I was little," she answered. "Which means that I can stay and take care of you while the others go gallivanting around in Cincinnati." With that, Myka turned on her heel and left the room. HG stayed on the bed, smiling to herself and scratching a spot on the tip of her nose.
