Author's Note: Hey guys! Just a so-you-know, this might be updated on a slow basis, so be forwarned. There'a also a LOT of dialouge in this fairly short first chapter. But don't worry, usually my chapters get longer as I go, and trust me, there won't be quite this much dialouge in the future.
Chapter One
Just a Game
You have learned something. That always feels at first as if you had lost something.
-H.G. Wells
"I think it's high time we had a game night," Pete announced as the exhausted team of agents came through the door to the BandB. Myka shot him an expression of tiredness. It was her own silent I-don't-have-to-deal-with-this look that Pete knew all too well.
"Oh, come on!" Pete said, "All we ever do is sit around, watch TV," he hesistated, "with the exception of Mykes the bookworm, and then go to bed." Myka rolled her eyes.
"So?" Claudia asked, annoyed.
"So, we should do something fun for a change!"
"You're not gonna shut up until we agree, are you?" she said.
Pete grinned, bouncing slightly.
"Ugh, it's like living with a five-year-old," Myka groaned, plopping down on the corduroy sofa beside an already seated Helena. "Play with me, play with me!" she mocked in a little-kid voice, causing Helena to chuckle beside her.
"You're rather good at that," she said.
"What," Myka smiled, "impressions," she imitated H.G's British dialect jokingly. Her face melted into a natural smile that was pretty and relaxed.
"Hey now!" Helena said, whacking Myka with a pillow in the side softly, "it's only funny when you do it to Pete!"
"But you're laughing," Myka giggled, pointing right at Helena's reddened face.
"No I'm not!" she hid her face.
"My god, will you two quit flirting already?" Claudia teased, miming a gag.
"We were not flirting," they said simultaneously, and then burst out laughing again.
Claudia raised an eyebrow, "Sure you weren't."
"Guys, I thought we were gonna play a game," Pete whined.
"Sorry, sorry," Myka said through a fit of giggles. She ran a hand back through her wiry curls, gently pushing the knots out. HG looked at her, her holograph blue eyes light and airy. It was nice to take a break from all the seriousness for once. Just hanging around laughing together reminded her they were a family, through the scary and the ridiculous.
"How about charades?" Pete suggested.
"Oh no," Helena chortled, "Myka could never shut up for that long."
"Wha, excuse me?" Myka exclaimed, return whacking Helena in the side with the same pillow, "I don't talk when I'm reading!"
"Yes you do," HG rolled her eyes; "you make annoyed or admirational comments every six pages!"
Myka shook her head and sighed. It was a little bit true. She couldn't help it though, some things needed to be said.
"Okay, what about talking charades?" Claudia offered.
"Doesn't that defeat the point of the game?" Pete asked.
"No, it could be, like, imitations, and you have to guess the person."
"Oh, alright," Myka nodded.
"Oh, I'll go first!" Helena jumped up from the couch and stood in the center of the room behind the messy coffee table. She pulled a hair tie off her wrist and put her candescent black hair onto a loose bun. "Ahem," she cleared her throat. "War and Peace was an important movement in the realms of historical literature. In fact I do believe that Lee Tolstoy made a breakthrough in the minds of the Napoleonic century." She smirked, and Pete let out a loud snore. "If you need some personality clues I'm very mature, and probably smarter than you." It was possibly the worst fake American accent any of them had ever heard, but they were all doubled over anyway. Helena smiled sarcastically.
"That might be the best Myka impression I've ever seen," Pete said.
Myka glared at him, and then Helena. "That wasn't funny." But she was chuckling anyhow.
"Oh yes it was and you know it," HG bantered, returning to her seat.
Myka yanked the elastic from her hair.
"Ow!" Helena yelped, grabbing her head. She looked to Myka on her left who was dangling the hair tie twisted with strands of dark hair from her forefinger and smirking. "That was a bit uncalled for." She ruffled her hair with one hand. Myka watched it fall into its natural wave.
"So, it's my turn then," Pete stood.
"I'm gonna get a drink," Claudia said, scuffling to the kitchen. "You guys want anything?" she hollered.
"I'll take a glass of whatever you're having," Myka yelled, she turned to Helena, "Do you drink?"
"I haven't in a while, but why not."
"I'll take a root beer," Pete said. They stared at him in disbelief and just shook their heads.
Claudia returned with three glasses of wine and a bottle of root beer. "Shame you won't be drinking Petey, I have a feeling this game'll be a lot more fun when we're all drunk." She said. Myka and Helena laughed and clinked glasses.
"Okay!" Pete said, "Hello, athank-ya, thank ya very much," he winked and pointed Myka.
"Oh, ah, you're that weather guy on channel seven!" Claudia yelled.
"No," Pete said, brushing a hand through his hair.
"You're William II," Helena said. They all looked at her in confusion. "Right, sorry," she said folding her hands, "not 1892."
"Could I get a peanut-butter and banana sandwich?" Pete tried.
"Oh!" Myka exclaimed, slamming down her glass a little too hard, "you're Artie at lunch time!"
Claudia spat out her drink in hilarity.
"No! I'm Elvis Presley!" Pete whined.
"Pfft, no you're not," Claudia said, "but nice try." They were all laughing so hard their cheeks burned a rosy color, and Myka and Helena were tipsily falling on top of one other in their giggles. HG didn't hold her alcohol nearly as well as Myka or Claudia, and had abandoned the drink about half way through. Pete sat back down in angry defeat.
"I don't like this game," Claudia mused from her curled up position in the armchair. "Let's play a different one."
"Like what?" Myka asked.
"Truth or dare," she announced, downing the last of her drink.
"Are you kidding? I haven't played that since like the third grade when Becky Cardwell dared me to put gum on Ms. Allen's chair," Pete said.
"Well then it's high time you played it again," Claudia grinned at him.
The game started and everyone listened intently, leaning in for emphasis. Making it overly serious was one of the best parts. It felt so childish, which made it almost funnier.
"Who was your first kiss?" Myka asked Pete.
"Oh god, Miranda Smith."
"Oh god what?" Myka asked.
"Well, she cut my lip open with her braces to start with," he said. They laughed ridiculously, and played for almost two hours. Myka revealed that she'd sprained her ankle at the only school dance her friends had ever dragged her to. Claudia had to eat a pickle dipped in mayonnaise (due to Pete's immature dare), and Helena had to admit to every law she broke in London.
When the clock numbers glowed a cyan 10:30 Claudia declared the last round.
"Okay, okay," she smiled wryly, "my last one is a dare for HG and Myka." She bounced her eyebrows. It wasn't particulary difficult to tell when Claudia was a little drunk.
Myka and Helena eyed each other nervously. It grew quiet, and the only sound was the humming of the fridge.
"I dare you two to kiss," she said, giggling at herself.
"What?" Myka gasped. Her skin had gone prickly and hot. Helena unconsciously rubbed a hand up her arm to her shoulder, avoiding eye contact. "Claudia I think you're really drunk," Myka answered uncomfortably.
"So are you," she laughed. They both chuckled a little more, but Myka's giggles harbored a bit of nervousness.
"But, HG didn't drink as much as us, so it isn't fair." Myka argued. There was a way out of this. It was just a game. Just a game…
"She hasn't had a drink in over a century, she's intoxicated enough," Claudia said wryly.
"Well, not necessarily." Myka looked at HG.
"Am I supposed to be this light-headed?" She asked, holding her head tightly. She appeared dizzy, and bit nauseated. She definitely hadn't had a drink in a while.
"Yep," Claudia said, "funny what 100 years'll do."
Damn it HG! Myka thought.
"So," Claudia said, "are you guys gonna kiss or what?"
Myka looked to Pete for support, but he was passed out in the recliner. So much for some partner backup. Still, there had to be a logical way out. Kiss HG? There were too many reasons that was a bad idea. Reasons she didn't want to dig up.
"Claudia, don't you think is taking it a little too far?" Myka asked, noticing that Helena had been rather quiet the whole time; which was odd, because normally she was full of opinions and not shy about sharing them. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe.
"No, I've done way worse than this before. Besides you two have been flirting all night."
"Have not!" They said in perfect synch for the second time.
"Oh my god, you're like the most in denial couple I have ever seen, just kiss. It's only a game," Claudia said. She tapped her fingers in the edge of her empty glass, smirking. Myka and Helena eyed each other awkwardly.
"I, ah," Myka stuttered. She'd just met this girl. Well, sort of. Just learned of her human existence in the present. Just learned of her gender. Just started interacting with her. How did that work really? You know of someone, but you don't know them. Still, it's a little different when you meet someone whose supposed to be a man, and a public figure, and dead.
She examined HGs face. In front of her was the author and inventor she'd admired for years, the woman who proved that brilliance and kick-ass came in a pretty small and definitely female package. She was fearless, and she stuck her neck out. Of all the consequences she could and had faced still she was strong. But she had suffered loss too, of great proportions. The Victorian woman trapped in different time sat before her now, shapely black hair framing her rather dazed face, pale and contemplating.
Myka was still thinking, as she pretty much always was, when Helena leaned in abruptly, and took the dare. At first Myka's eyes shot wide open in fear and confusion and hostility toward Claudia. But Helena's lips were soft, velvety even, and oddly soothing, as if they could somehow reassure her. She closed her eyes lightly, and accepted the grasp of Helena's free hand. It was short, but not absurdly. There was nothing more than the mere taste of skin. They withdrew; each quickly blinked their eyes open. They looked at each other for a moment. Myka looked away, though, for fear Helena might read her, at the moment, complex emotions.
"Well, it's pretty late, I'm gonna…" she stuttered a bit and walked swiftly down the hall to her room and shut the door. It was uncomfortably quiet for a minute or so. Thick silence hung blatantly in the air.
"You two are so in love," Claudia said to Helena, who sat stiff and flustered on the couch.
Myka's room was fairly good size, square shape, with bookshelves plastering most of the walls. Her desk was littered with manila envelopes and assorted pens. The light from her one lamp was dim and didn't even reach all the corners or the room. But it was home.
Myka sat on her bed, knees tucked up to her chest, thinking. She let out a breath. What had just happened? It was blurry, and quite frankly she wished it could stay that way. Helena. Helena G. Wells. Who was she? No, who was she to Myka? Inventor? Author? Agent? Psychopath? Partner? Friend? Something more? No! It made her head hurt.
Myka's job was important. She'd always put it ahead of everything else. She didn't have time to sit around and really think about her relationships very often. But up until then everything had been clear. Helena though, Helena was a gray area. Unlike the black and white pages Myka liked, she was a fuzzy mix, difficult to decipher.
"Myka? Myka are you okay?" Claudia knocked on the door.
Myka sat perfectly still and silent, praying for her to go away.
"She must've fallen asleep already," she heard Claudia say, though she was certain Claudia knew otherwise. "I'll talk to her in the morning."
Myka listened carefully to the echoy footsteps move away until she's counted three doors closed. She exhaled. The morning would come, but she dreaded it. What was she supposed to say? Helena and Claudia knew her a little too well to hide her emotions, but right now they weren't finite. And that was more than a bit unnerving.
"Myka!" The door made a sharp noise with every knock. "Myka, you're going to be late. And you know Artie has a cow every time we show up late." Silence. Claudia sighed. "Don't make me pick this lock because you know I will."
Myka groaned. She opened the door a crack. "Tell Artie I'm sick." She was sick. Sick to her stomache. Confused, sweaty and flighty. That was sick, wasn't it?
Claudia stared at her, "You are not sick, and you are skipping work over a game. Your job is too important for that."
I know! Myka's thoughts screamed at her. But still. Work next to Helena all day, especially with her so new to the team? It made her stomach twist, and her face for that matter. She squeezed the doorknob unconsciously.
"Listen, Myka," Claudia eased through the doorway and shut it almost all the way, but not quite, "It was a game. No one is going to bug you about it; no one is going to incriminate you for it. It didn't mean anything."
It didn't mean anything? That was exactly the problem. It shouldn't have meant anything.
"I was kidding and Pete was asleep for god sake! And I'll bet you HG is just as embarrassed. But Myka Ophelia Bering does not let embarrassment ruin her, or you would have never gotten over that dance all those years ago," Claudia chuckled.
Myka stared at her for a moment. She was right. Embarrassment didn't bother her. But this was not embarrassment; it was more confusing, more risky.
"I'll be ready in ten minutes," Myka said quietly.
Claudia smiled sympathetically, "Just be her friend. A friend might be exactly what she needs right now. Whatever you do, don't shut her out."
"Yeah, okay," Myka dug a few fingernails into her wrist. Be her friend.
She pulled a tank top over her head, and quickly swallowed two Advil. Her head was already starting to hurt. She pulled the navy colored sleeves of her blazer over the nail marks on her wrist. Her breathing was quick and uneven and her thoughts continued to race. But Claudia was right. She just had to take some deep breaths, and act normal. It was just a game. Wasn't it?