My first venture into my latest fandom obsession Warehouse 13.

This is an AU spin on cannon up to Buried, where things take a turn so that Season 4 doesn't happen. There will eventually be Bering and Wells.

All feedback is greatly appreciated. No beta, so all mistakes are my own. Happy reading!

Chapter 1

Berlin, Summer 1235

Jamison couldn't help but smile as she watched Julian laugh, glancing down to his new wife standing next to him. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to get comfortable in the native dress that she was forced to wear. Almost everyone in attendance knew of her family's true origin, but they couldn't take chances.

"I hope someday you'll find this," her father said, sitting down next to her.

"A bride on a foreign world centuries behind us?" Jamison quipped.

Her father sighed, "Love, Jamison, love."

"Come now father," Jack joked from across the table, "Jay and I won't have time for love while we're out saving the universe."

"There is always time for love, my son," he smiled, glancing at his wife as she chatted with their new in-laws a couple of tables over.

"I suppose," Jack replied. He looked over at their eldest brother who shared a fleeting look over at his sibling and smiled at them. "I know mother is happy that he chose to take up her side of the family's business."

"The fates have plans for us all Jack," Jamison shook her head. Jack's narrow minded nature was something that would always annoy her. "Jules is destined to oversee the Warehouse on this world and live out his days protecting this planet. Something we also do."

"Just not in such a primitive way," Jack replied with distain.

Jamison rolled her eyes. "Our family had a hand in creating this system, why shouldn't we be here to help manage it. This is a key world, Jack, and its people have great potential. These objects are dangerous," Jamison took a sip of her drink, "what if our foes were able to get their hands on one and tap its power?"

"Won't happen," Jack scoffed. "Save that creative thinking for the battlefield sister."

"Enough," their father stepped in, familiar with the ongoing debate his children engaged in over planets not yet part of the Empire. "Save your arguing for another day. Julian is married and will soon take over as caretaker for Warehouse 8. We are here and happy for him."

"Yes father," Jamison and Jack replied in unison.

Near Cedar Rapids, South Dakota August 2010

"We are quite busy these days Irene," Jamison said gruffly as she followed the shorter woman down the hall. "It's only your friendship with Billy that brought me here today, so please don't waste my time."

"I know Captain Black that your relationship with the Warehouse is strained after the incident with Regent Smithson…"

Jamison snorted, "Only you would say the totally betrayal of several hundred years of work an incident, not to mention what you people did to my blood."

"A situation which I hope to rectify today."

Jamison fell into brooding silence as she followed the current caretaker of the Warehouse down the gray hallway. She had received a message from Mrs. Fredric while on break after her team's latest scouting mission. Things didn't go as planned, as they tend to never do, and she nearly lost her long time friend Damien. Her superiors had thanked her for pulling things together but strongly recommended a vacation of sorts after what had happened.

"We're here."

Jamison quickly pulled herself out of her musings. After a beat and a quick eye roll she opened the door before her and walked into the room.

"By the Fates," Jamison gasped, stunned.

"Hello darling," a crisp accented voice replied. "Given all that has transpired recently I am quite pleased to see you."

A broad grin brightened the grim officer's features. She quickly crossed the room and pulled the slight woman into a fierce hug.

"Me too, HG, me too."

South Dakota Badlands September 2011

"Bollocks!" HG huffed as the bag she was lifting spilled its contents onto the rocky ground.

Jamison chuckled looking over at her dear friend. "Nervous?"

"Hardly."

"Right," Jamison exited the car and adjusted her jacket. She made her way to the passenger's side of the vehicle and leaned against it.

HG glared up at Jamison. "I have no reason to be nervous. The Regents have informed the Agents that I would be returning to the Warehouse, rehabilitated thanks to you and your people."

"And what of your Agent Bering? Have you spoken with her recently?"

"She is hardly my Agent Bering."

Jamison gave her niece a knowing smirk, which earned a very familiar eye roll.

The captain couldn't help but smile as she watched her Helena repack her gear. Almost a year ago the secret author of some of this planet's most inventive books had been a shell of the woman Jamison knew over a hundred of years before. Broken and angry from her loss, driven mad by time in suspended animation, HG Wells had tried to destroy the world, succumbing to the darkness that had a tendency to run in her family.

Jamison had sensed the dark potential in her brother's descendant when they had first met in a London bar in 1883. Befriending the younger woman had been easy and it made Jamison's periodic trips to the planet more enjoyable. She was pleased that her suggestion of HG as a Warehouse agent had met little resistance and had hoped that 'a world of endless wonder' would keep any possible demons at bay.

Jamison had been on a mission when she received word that Christina had been killed. HG had been inconsolable over the death of her daughter and had taken a leave of absence from the Warehouse, traveling with Jamison and her team. When she had returned to Warehouse 12 after a year or so of seeing the Empire, Jamison had assumed HG would be okay.

"Will you please desist with your sad inner monologue," HG said as she hefted her gear bag back onto her shoulder. "The past is the past and cannot be changed."

"So sayeth the Time Traveler."

HG chuckled. She knew that her distant relative still felt responsible for not being there to save her from herself those many years ago and again when she had first come out of the bronze. Both times the Captain had been too far away, fighting a battle in a distant part of the vast galactic Empire she served to have stopped the artificer with her plans.

HG glanced over at her aunt who had ceased walking to take a call, most likely from her lovely wife, given the slight grin her face held as she spoke into a device that reminded the Victorian of a Farnsworth. Few knew that Jamison's tales of battle had provided the inspiration for War of the Worlds and that the year she had spent traveling the stars, learning of the Empire and Jamison's not so small part in the endless war her people were engaged in had been one of the best of her life. Despite all that had happened.

"And how is the fair Nikita? Bemoaning your absence as you gallivant around with your disreputable ward?"

Jamison smirked and continued to walk toward the giant building. "Fine."

"And when will the rest of the team be arriving?"

"In a few days," Jamieson replied reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device. "I wanted to get you settled in first and lay the ground work for what we're about to do with the current Warehouse crew."

Jamison pulled out a small device from her jacket's breast pocket. She hit a button on the remote and the door swung open.

"And how much money is riding on this visit?"

"Enough," Jamison snorted. "You know me too well sometimes."

"And I care for you a great deal. Otherwise you would have met your demise long ago." HG grumbled. "You and your mates, betting on my love life." She trailed off mumbling.

Jamison's laugher filled the umbilicus as the pair headed towards the main office.

The feeling of walking into a Warehouse rarely changed for Jamison. Having spent time in several different ones visiting her brother Julian, the Captain always expected each one to be basically the same. There were slight variations, such as Apples in 12 versus Dates in 9, but the overall feeling of warmth was always there.

Except for today. Warehouse 13 had a decidedly different feel, one that she recognized all too quickly.

"Are you well?" HG asked.

"No, something is off," Jamison replied. "Don't you feel it?"

"My bloodline has been diluted over the centuries I'm afraid," the dark haired woman replied. "I don't share that direct link like you or my distant grandfather."

They had reached the far end of the umbilicus with Jamison's sense of dread growing with every step.

"Does anything look odd to you Helena?"

Startled by the use of her first name, she nodded no.

"Give me a minute before you open that door." Jamison stopped and took off her jacket, setting it on the ground off to the right of the door. The Captain began to type quickly on the small device attached to her left forearm. Seconds later a small stack of items appeared at her feet.

"Do you really think all that is necessary?" HG asked, taking the gun handed to her.

"Yes," Jamison replied grimly. She quickly attached the light armor over her chest. "Something is wrong with this Warehouse. It has gone dark."

"Dark?"

Jamison slipped a knife into a slot on her armor. "Dark." She pulled on a pair of goggles, gave HG a stern look and continued to dress.

After a few moments more, Captain Jamison Black was ready, weapons in hand, to enter the Warehouse.

HG waited for further explanation and with none forthcoming she keyed in her access code to open the door.

Artie's office was dark, setting HG more on edge.

"Jay," HG hissed.

Suddenly the lights flew on.

"SURPRISE!"

Jamison remained focused, ignoring the mix of shocked faces as she quickly made her way through the office to the Warehouse proper. Something was wrong. Something was here.

HG gave a weak smile, "Hello all," she spurted, trying to avoid Myka's eyes. "This is all quite lovely and I am very glad to be back but if you'll excuse me," she pointed in the direction that Jamison went.

"Helena?" Myka asked, concerned, "what's going on?"

"Um not quite sure just yet," the older woman replied. "Captain Black experienced, for lack of a better term, a vibe just before we entered the Warehouse. Something's amiss."

"A vibe?" Pete shook his head. "I didn't get anything."

"Captain Black is more in tune with the warehouse given her, um, family's connection." Artie began to explain. "It actually dates back to Warehouse 1 and…"

"I know it's a fascinating story Artie but I must collect my friend," HG said, pulling her gun and hurrying out to the platform. "Please stay in the office. It will be the safest place for you all at the moment."

Jamison was standing a few feet from the door, eyes closed.

"Jamison?" HG whispered.

The Captain sighed and ran a tense hand through short black hair. She opened her eyes, her unfocused gaze sweeping over the warehouse floor.

"Oh Julian, what did you do?"