A/N: This is a little ficlet that came to me while trying to finish up a 3-story arc I have in store for this pairing. This is more than likely a stand-alone. Unless Notre Dame wins today. If the Irish pull this out, I will write a new chapter in celebration. I do my best work drunk and watching football. :-) And remember, reviews make the world go round. All the reviews of my first story really spurred me to continue with this pairing.
"Come to Jesus"
"Okay, what we are going to have here is a good ol' fashion 'Come to Jesus' meeting." Pete clapped his hands together in front of the Warehouse crew currently seated in the living room. Artie was in the recliner, hands firmly folded across his chest. H.G. was across from him on the love seat, trying to appear nonchalant and failing rather miserably by the look of her wringing hands. Claudia and Leena seemed to make themselves scarce any time Artie and H.G. found themselves in the same room. And Myka—poor, dear Myka—was alone on the couch, hunched over with head in her hands trying to block the whole scene out.
"And Artie, no mumbling!" Agent Lattimer tried to keep the usual playful sarcasm out of his voice. Still, no one ever took Pete too seriously. As if on cue, Artie launched into an inaudible tirade, the only words one could hear were punctuated with flailing arm movements and were usually "H.G.," "re-instated," even the phrase "cold, dead body" could be clearly heard.
"Artie, Artie! Seriously man, I'm dealing with a bunch of juveniles." Pete sighed as he took a seat in the dining room chair he strategically placed in the middle of the room.
"Juveniles? Juveniles?" Artie definitely wasn't mumbling any more. The older man leaped up as if to get into Pete's face. "You of all people shouldn't accuse people of acting childish. Need I remind you, Agent Lattimer, about the incident with the telegraph and Captain Touchypants?" Artie sat back down, narrowing his eyes, expecting an apology.
"Captain Touchypants? Was he there?" Pete turned to Myka with a perplexed look.
"He means you Pete." Myka spoke loud enough so she didn't have to lift her head.
"Yeah, I don't think that's a nickname that's going to catch on." Pete arranged the clipboard he brought—stocked with plenty of empty lined paper—on his lap.
Helena had remained particularly quiet whilst the whole scene played out before her. Partly because anything she'd say would be particularly wrong so what was the point, and partly because she was worried about Myka. Finally the younger woman made eye contact with her, the color seeming to have rushed to her face after pressing on it so hard with her hands. H.G. stood.
"Myka, may I see you in the hallway for a moment?" Agent Bering seemed slightly surprised, but stood nonetheless. Pete motioned at the retreating women and mouthed "proceed," giving his unneeded permission.
Just between a mahogany side table and its matching mirror counterpart there was a Myka-sized bit of space that H.G. pushed the woman back into. "You look like you needed a hug." Helena didn't actually hug the other woman, but stood close enough just in case the opportunity presented itself. They'd become close in the past couple weeks, Myka helping the author to adjust to a crazy new world. Even though she was almost positive the younger woman knew how warmly she felt towards her, neither had crossed the unforgivable physical barrier that could change their relationship from friendly chaps to something more.
"I'm so insensitive. I'm sorry. You know I have your back." Myka finally realized the tension in the living room wasn't hers alone and had far more serious ramifications for Helena. Artie was making the newest (or oldest?) agent's life a living hell.
"Yet another of those modern American sayings that have a rather apparent sexual connotation." The wryness with which H.G. could deliver such lines was astonishing.
"How is it you can always make me smile?" Myka felt so fortunate to find another colleague with a sense of humor.
"Because you are breathtaking when you smile and it is my distinct duty to cause such a glorious sight." Helena did hug Myka then, trying to absorb the power of the young woman's grin. After a sufficient amount of time, H.G. pulled back and pushed Myka's curls towards the wall. "Myka, what is wrong?"
Agent Bering searched Agent Wells eyes, wondering if she should admit what was actually bothering her. Then she remembered how open and honest Helena had been about her own past, especially concerning her daughter. "I am weak when it comes to confrontation between people I care about." Myka looked for a reaction from her companion, seeing only understanding she continued. "It reminds me of my parents when I was growing up. They constantly bickered and I never knew if I'd wake up one day to find them divorced."
"I remind you of your Mother?" H.G. didn't know whether to be flattered or displeased.
"No, no. God no." Myka blushed. Anything but motherly.
"Myka, does Artie remind you of your Mother?" She held the smirk in as long as possible. Myka's laughter joined quickly after. "I'm sorry you have to suffer through this. It's no picnic for me either."
"I know, I know." Myka's voice went three octaves higher, a behavioral tic that happened when she was hyper emotional. A tic she was working on eliminating. "Okay. I'm ready to be supportive."
"I'll do whatever he says. This is all I want Myka." Helena rested her hands on Myka's hips. "I belong here." H.G. tipped her head closer until their foreheads were almost touching. She looked for any resistance from the younger woman and saw none. She brought her right hand up to cup Myka's cheek and kissed her full lips.
"Did I look like I needed that too?" Myka asked after keeping her eyes closed a few seconds longer to savor the contact.
"No, that one was for me." Helena backed away and ran her thumb along the smudged lipstick she had caused. "Ready to face the inferno?"
"Uh, yes." They were both acting as if nothing happened, not being able to digest the magnitude of the inevitable change this would cause in their relationship. There would be plenty of time for that later. That is, if Artie didn't find a way to kill and dispose of Agent Wells' body before the end of the day.
While they walked down the hall, Myka stopped H.G.'s progress by taking her hand and squeezing. "Thank you for the pep talk. Though it should have been me doing that for you." The younger agent couldn't keep the guilt out of her voice.
"I have a feeling once Artie's done with me, you'll get your chance to return the favor." H.G. grasped Myka's hand a moment longer and let go as they continued back to the living room. With the promise of things to come, Helena's outlook didn't seem so dire after all.
A/N 2:...now clicky the review button peez...