A/N
B&W sort of Canon. Set in the S2 verse before Vendetta. Myka and Pete are done with a snag, bag and tag. Myka is missing someone and goes down to the Hotel bar for dinner and some liquid therapy. Rated T for some language. Some fluff and feels.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of SyFy.
Muffled voices from behind the hotel room door where not heard as the maid continued to clean the bathroom, her ear buds blasting away an old ABBA tune, unaware of the argument just outside the door.
Not that there was much of a need to clean. The bathroom was in near pristine condition, well, as clean as a cheap, two-star hotel can be. The toiletries were laid out in neat order, a zipped up make-up bag was set near the sink, the hairbrush was clean, no hairs whatsoever entangled in the bristles, the cap on the tube of toothpaste was sealed tight, the toothbrush wrapped neatly next it.
The maid had her head down as she was carrying the used towels, almost bumping into the arguing couple as the woman flung the door open to her room.
"Damn it, Pete. I've got it, just go tell Artie…" towels flew in the air as a gun was drawn. Myka just huffed, pushing down the tesla in Pete's hands, noticing the shocked eyes starting to squint at the strange looking ray gun?
Pete rushed, fumbling behind his jacket as he tried to tuck it behind his belt. Myka used her one free hand to dig in his pocket, giving a sheepish grin to the confused maid as she watched the strange woman feeling around in the man's trousers. Myka struggled with her one free after finding Pete's wallet; she pulled a few bills out and handed it to the still shocked maid.
"Here, thanks for cleaning up," She said as she walked the girl out of her room. She just rolled her eyes, tilting her head with a back motion toward the man behind them.
"He is obsessed with Buck Rogers," She mumbled. The maid then looking around the taller woman at Pete struggling to take off his jacket, spinning around like a pup chasing its tail.
"Men," Myka laughed uncomfortably, the maid smiling back at her, and then the agent watched as the maid headed down the hall.
"Really, Pete! Didn't you see the cart outside the rooms?" Myka sternly said as she pointed to the now closed door, Pete's wallet still in her hand, the static bag still clutched in her other hand that was covered by her jacket.
"This is why I didn't give you the bag when I was trying to open up the door and that, mind you, was causing you to act like the man child you are," Myka huffed as she tossed the wallet back to him.
"Hey, how much did you give her?" Pete said as he thumbed through the bill-fold, "That was my snack money," Myka was ignoring him as she went to the bed, kneeling down to reach for her black satchel she had put under there when they first checked in. Her hand, clutching the sealed artifact bag, pressed further against the top of the bed as she was steadying herself.
"Pete, I will buy you some damn cookies after I put this away and you…" Myka poked her head up above the mattress, slinging the satchel on top of the bed as she got up. "You call Artie and explain to him why this country is trying to decide whether to declare war on us because you hit on the wife of …"
"Hey, how was I to know who he, she was? Besides, you told me to distract them while you switched out that doo-hicky thingy," Pete was saying, standing then near Myka as he watched her shove the bag down into a secure pocket of the satchel, then removing her laptop and Farnsworth.
"Here, Buck. Call Artie," Myka quipped as she set up her laptop on the dresser, then turning to him as she hung her jacket over the chair. "Well?"
"Well what? Oh, okay, fine, fine, I'm going," He said, his eyes raised as Myka glared at him, her fingers stilling on her blouse cuff as she was just starting to unbutton them.
"Look, all I want is to change, order room service and take a hot shower, okay?"
"Yeah, I'm going, don't want to interrupt your little 'Myka" routine," Pete was saying, his fingers wiggling as he waved his arms at her.
He turned as he gave his partner a sincere smile, "You know, we did good," He smirked as he backed toward the door.
"Yeah, we did," Myka just smiled, knowing that she had a good partner in Pete, looking down as she nodded her head, walking to the door, Pete stopped just before she closed it.
"And for the record, NOT Buck Rogers, its Atomic man," Pete grinned.
"Yeah yeah, whatever, go get something to eat, Wonder Woman" Myka laughed softly as she shut the door on him.
"Ouch, so not cool, Mykes," Pete's muffled voice made her grin as she sat on the bed. After a few minutes, the emptiness of the room, of her heart, started to settle in on her as she ran her hand over the cold, empty pillow.
Her eyes started to mist with the thought of who was just lying next to her less than three days ago. Myka relished waking up in her arms. Sometimes she would just lay there, softly brushing dark, stray locks from her perfectly flawed face as she listened to the gentle give and take of air.
All their moments of bliss where spent in such hotels as this one, hiding their love was beginning to take its toll on her whole being, her sanity with the fact that she was with a woman, who, technically should not be in this century, her morals; at the fact of hiding her relationship from her closest friends and family.
Helena was much better as to hiding their clandestine meetings, Myka thought. "Back in my time, it was a necessary evil to hide one's proclivity, but I must say, I had become well-adept at avoiding the invasions of a jealous husband or two,"
"No ego there," Myka would whisper, kissing the knowing smirk of those ruby lips.
"Okay, get a grip, Bering," Myka muttered as she pushed off the bed. She decided she was in need of a hot shower, a very long, hot shower to wash away the remains of the day and an eighteen hour flight.
As soon as they landed, they checked into the hotel, the cheapest Artie could find at such short notice.
The Farnsworth was blaring before Myka could finish changing after she had stowed things away in the hotel room. Pete had come in, giddy to get on with it so they could have time after for 'a shrimp on the Barbie' whatever the hell that meant" Myka mumbled as she turned on the shower.
She was sitting on the toilet, taking her socks off when she had to sit back, chuckling at Pete's antics when he had been in her room earlier before they left on their retrieval "Look, Mykes, it goes down the wrong way, check it out!" Pete was saying, flushing the thing over and over.
She finished undressing, frowning a bit at Pete's rolling eyes as she tried to explain why that was. 'Come on Mykapedia, we got a snag, bag and tag. No more geography lesson,'
The water was a blessing; her forehead was pressed against the cool tiles as the warmth washed over her back. Her muscles shifting under the cascade of water as she leaned most of her weight on her hand clenching at the slick tile. The beads of water dripping off her upper lip became small sprays of mist at each heated exhale of breath.
Her release was cut short by the ringing of her phone she left sitting on the bathroom counter. "Damn it," Myka cursed, pulling her hand away, trailing it up her stomach as to make sure there was no soap left on her.
"This better be good," Myka growled into the phone, trying to shrug her bathrobe over her wet body.
"Hey, don't bite my head off, Ms. Grumpy," Claudia squeaked.
"Sorry, Claudia, what's up?" Myka said, grabbing a towel to dry her hair as she cradled the phone against her ear and shoulder.
"I just wanted to check in, Pete had spoke with Artie and said 'no problemo', which in Pete talk means he did something stupid. Care to tell?" Myka could hear the clicking of the keys in the back ground.
"No, just the usual Pete fubra," Myka sighed as she set the phone down, putting it on speaker. Myka finished drying off, she stood in front of the mirror, her hands cupping her breast as she listened to Claudia ramble on about the hoops they had to go through to clear things up with the ministry.
"Yeah, that's great, Claud," Myka mumbled, getting herself dressed.
"Hey, what's up? You don't sound your chipper self after …"
"Look, Claudia, I am tired and hungry, I think I am going to head down and find something, okay?" Myka said over her shoulder as she slipped her jeans on. Then smoothing over the plaid shirt.
"Tuck or not to tuck," she said to her reflection in the mirror as she finished buttoning up her shirt.
"That is the question! Sorry Mykes, you are not the only one to corner the market on Mr. Will Stuffy Pants Shakespeare," Claudia's voice causing Myka to jump, forgetting she was still on speaker phone.
"Got to go Claudia, will call you later," Myka pressed end, not waiting for her reply.
"Butchering Shakespeare, God, I am so in need of drink," Myka mumbled, trying to ignore that unrequited need that her body was reminding her of. She grabbed her wallet, phone and key card, shoving them in her pockets as she closed the door behind her.
She had pressed the lobby button when she got into the lift, waiting for it to go down to the lobby, she ran her fingers through her still damp curls, not really caring that she was going down to a strange place wearing her comfy shirt and no make-up. All she wanted was to find some dinner and hopefully some good Irish whisky.
Myka adjusted her eyes to the dim lighting as she walked into the bar, a quick scan of the lobby was made, then over the place she was now in, spying an empty stool down at the end of the bar, her back would be against the wall, affording her a view of the door.
"Always the agent" she grumbled at her poor attempt to try to relax as she sat down, placing her phone down as she tapped her fingers, waiting for the bartender to come down to her. After a minute of looking over the sparse menu, she settled for a house salad, a local microbrew and a double shot of whiskey, neat.
The bartender, Paul, was nice enough, giving her enough space and not trying to chat her up. So what was making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, the feeling of being watched had hit her after she had walked through the lobby.
After the second shot and a half way decent salad, Myka's shoulders were finally leaving her ears. Paul was cleaning a glass near her as she watched him over the rim of her now empty glass. Nodding, he came over; setting two new fresh rock glasses down in front of her, she frowned as she watched him pouring the amber liquid in both glasses.
"Is someone else having the same thing?" She asked, catching the movement of a small figure from her peripheral moving toward her.
"I was hoping to be left alone. You would think no make-up and an old plaid shirt would scream 'leave me alone' she sighed as she straightened her back, Paul smiling as the figure moved slowly closer.
"Nah, mate, you look like you need a bit of company," He smiled, pushing one of the drinks in front of Myka, a slim, elegant hand reached for the other as she settled next to Myka.
"Are you really here?" Myka whispered, her eyes shut tight, scared to look next to her for fear of it being the cause of one too many whiskey.
"It is a travesty for such beauty to be left unattended," Myka's breath caught in her throat, each word shivering up her spine.
"Why are you here?" Myka sputtered out, then looking over at the hurt clouding that beautifully flawed face. Helena swallowed the shot in one quick gulp. Not sure of what to do next, her head screaming to leave, but her heart refused to move, to even beat.
"I didn't mean it like that," Myka whispered next to Helena's ear, her hand gently sliding across her hand. Helena felt her heart skip a beat as it resumed its rhythm with Myka's touch."I am just worried that someone... "Myka started to say, waiting as Paul poured another round.
"They, the Regents, want us to catch you, bring you back to the warehouse," Myka dipping her head to meet Helena's bowed head, to meet her eyes. "Why are you risking your freedom?" Myka said, squeezing gently on Helena's arm.
"Because I miss you,"