Disclaimers, special thanks, and such: Not mine, alas. Bonus points to the first person who messages me privately, identifying the three quotes in chapter 1 that are referring to another TV show, hijacked from another TV show, and swiped from a movie (there's at least one of each of those buried in here somewhere). Special thanks to InuGhost, MagellinaFluffQueen, and LadyNRA, for your feedback, thoughts, and encouragement in this project. I could not have pulled this one off without the time that each of you so graciously gave me.
A/N: Yes, it really is an actual, mush-free story, with some semblance of a plot instead of just fluff and stuff! Happy birthday, my friend. Rest of the story's in your email whenever you're ready for it!
Artie was stretched out on the sofa in the loft above his office, book in hand and eyes closed, when he heard the familiar hiss of the door opening downstairs. He opened his eyes and listened intently, but made no move to get up. The warehouse didn't usually see any of its agents on weekends, save himself, but downstairs, somebody was clearly pacing around the office, rummaging here, rustling papers there. With a frown, Artie decided this warranted his attention. He silently closed his book and slipped it onto the end table as his body smoothly drew up to a sitting position. Artie blinked as his knee popped painfully, but remained otherwise quiet as he planned his approach to the stairwell.
Before he even got to a standing position, however, he heard distinctive footfalls on the circular iron staircase. He knew those shoes. Artie rolled his eyes and resumed his reclining position, one chubby hand darting out to reclaim the novel he'd been pretending to read while letting his mind wander. Murder Sees the Light was one of his favourite novels, after all, and he had long ago ceased to need to read its pages to know the story that unfolded within them. By the time Myka's figure appeared in the stairwell, Artie already looked half-asleep again. He eyed her but remained silent until he realized she'd been standing there for a couple of minutes, and she'd begun to look like she was about to explode with agitation.
"What?" Artie finally asked his agent, letting the book close on a finger as if he needed to mark his page. Myka shifted from one foot to the other as she looked at him, a thoughtful frown across her face.
"I think I need a couple days off," Myka said finally.
"You got it," Artie answered, turning his focus back to his book.
Myka's eyebrow shot up. "Really?" She hadn't expected it to be that easy.
"Yesterday and today. Couple days. See you bright and early tomorrow morning," Artie clarified, provoking a peevish sigh from the younger agent as she crossed her arms and leaned against the top of the stair railing in what Artie supposed was intended to be a casual stance, even though something about her didn't feel very casual or relaxed right now. Artie turned his gaze back to his book, willing her to accept his answer and go away, even though he could tell she wasn't planning to budge until she got her way.
"Artie, I'm serious. I've been under a lot of personal stress, of late, and I need to take a little time off before it gets worse." Artie glanced back up at the woman standing across the room from him, and this time he took a good look. She seemed like the usual, put-together Myka, neat and professional. But on closer inspection, the senior Warehouse agent noticed her color seemed a little off, a little sickly, as if she wasn't sleeping well. Her eyes looked like he was pretty sure his usually did after a cross-country flight with a screaming, flailing toddler in the seat behind him. Artie heaved a sigh.
"I'll think about it," he answered. Truthfully, now that he'd considered it more carefully, he was pretty sure that Myka needed a little time off, but he had no idea how long this had been going on. Artie was hesitant to break apart one of the best teams he'd ever had the honor of working with, just because Myka perhaps had had a bad night's sleep. He made a mental note to ask Leena about Myka's well-being when he went back to the B&B for dinner later, before deciding what to do with this unexpected request. Myka, clearly accepting his noncommittal answer, thanked Artie and left him to resume gazing blankly at page 57 while letting his mind wander.
It seemed like not much time passed when Artie realized he needed to put his book away and head back to Leena's. Dinner wouldn't be served for a little while yet, but if he wanted to chat with Leena, alone, about Myka's demand for time off, he needed to get there early. Artie wondered idly, as he packed his bag and headed downstairs, if Pete would already be hanging around the kitchen like a half-starved bear at an outdoor wedding, but to his relief, he found the house relatively quiet when he let himself into the foyer. The only sound was the stir-fry that he could smell from the front door. Entering the kitchen, Artie took note of Pete and Claudia out in the yard, tossing a football back and forth lazily as they appeared to be having a good talk. Pete had taken a strong interest in playing older brother to the team's youngest member, and Artie could tell by the easy smile on Claudia's face that the relationship, not quite friendship but not entirely mentorship either, was a good experience for them both. Artie leaned on the counter near the kitchen doorway, quietly watching Leena push vegetables around in the skillet, while tending rice in a nearby pot. He knew she'd seen him, by the way her eyebrow had arched slightly when he entered the room, but she hadn't acknowledge his presence yet, so he continued to wait.
"No lurking without a permit, Artie," Leena said after the silence had hung between them for a minute or so. She glanced over towards him, taking in the uncertain expression, the questions she could practically see floating in his eyes. "Can you hand me the broth?" she asked, tilting her head to indicate the pitcher of vegetable broth leftover from soup-making day. Artie grunted his assent as he grabbed the pitcher and crossed the room to hand it off to this caretaker of caretakers. "Okay, enough silence. Talk," she said, shooting him a meaningful look as she took the pitcher from him and poured some of the liquid into the rice.
"How— how do you think Myka's doing?" Artie said after a moment's hesitation. Leena turned curious eyes on the eldest of her charges, taking in the concern and uncertainty and considering it in a new light, with the new information presented in this question. While he tried to be aware of their needs, Artie wasn't one to worry about the emotional well-being of his agents without good reason, certainly not this pair of agents. Leena turned back to her cooking, mulling over the question at hand.
Artie returned to his place, leaning against the counter near the doorway, as he waited for her to consider the question and whatever else it was that Leena considered before she was willing to speak on a subject. He waited for what felt like several minutes, watching her head bob now and then in thought, before his patience began to wear thin. Dinner was nearly cooked, Pete and Claudia had given up their game of catch and were sitting on the park bench, Myka's footsteps could be heard in her bedroom upstairs as she got ready for dinner, and Artie's private chat with Leena was running perilously close to no longer being private.
"Leena?" he prompted, getting only one raised index finger from the enigmatic woman in response. "Leena, Congress doesn't take this long," Artie groused. He was accustomed to the slow pace required to hold a conversation with the intuitive, very thorough thinker, but Artie's patience had its limits, even with Leena. She gave him only a mysterious, Mona Lisa smile while she dished dinner into proper china and set it aside to be served in a few moments. She turned to face him, leaning against the sink, mimicking Artie's posture.
"She's stressed beyond belief, Artie. The uncertainty that MacPherson threw us all into, her father's illness, all of us not knowing who to trust, it's been harder on Myka than she's willing to admit, even to herself, I think. She's made offhand remarks to herself about feeling burned-out and run-down... remarks I don't think she realizes I overheard. I've been just slightly concerned about her for a few weeks now. Why do you ask?" Now it was Artie's turn to fall silent for an uncomfortably long moment.
"She asked for a couple days off," he finally answered, prompting Leena's eyebrows to slide up in surprise.
"She's recognized that she's nowhere near the top of her game," Leena said. Artie nodded in reply. He hadn't thought about that, but now that Leena had put words to it, he was certain they were correct. "Artie, she needs time off, and not just a weekend of lounging around the house. She needs to relax, for real, and God love her, Myka is as bad at that as you are." Artie shot a dirty look at his colleague, but he knew she was right, about Myka and about himself. "What's their next case?" Leena continued.
Artie handed over a folder from his bag, for Leena to flip through as he summarized it briefly. She merely glanced at the first page, then brought her gaze back up to Artie's eyes. "Barring any more-urgent pings, I was planning to send them to California. Not terribly serious, but might as well nab it while things are quiet."
"Sounds fairly straightforward," Leena replied, bobbing her head in understanding. "And fairly benign. You can probably send Claudia with Pete on that one. I'll take Myka to town with me on Monday. It's my spa day." She handed the file back to Artie, who flipped through it himself to refresh his memory.
"All right, let's..." Artie said, his words drifting into oblivion as he suddenly processed all of Leena's words. "You have a regular spa day?" he asked, shooting a perplexed look at his companion.
Leena threw an amused look Artie's way. "I have to do something to find serenity around here. I'm sure not going to find it hanging around you!" she quipped, getting a mirthless chuckle out of Artie in response.
"Certainly not going to find it on the Fox network..." he muttered. "All right, let's... you do that, take Myka with you on Monday and do whatever - whatever it is that women do at a spa," Artie muttered, halfway to himself, as he put the file back in his bag and meandered out of the room. Leena smiled and shook her head at that, curls of hair bobbing in her line of vision. Wherever Artie had been all day, mentally, he was obviously a little late returning to reality. Leena carried dinner to the dining room and placed it on the table that Myka had set for her earlier in the afternoon, before reaching for the phone in her pocket to leave a message with the little day spa in Featherhead, adding Myka to her reservation.
Towards the end of dinner, Leena began picking up dishes to wash. Artie, predictably, took the hint and reached for the folders he'd left in the bag at his feet, getting down to business before he lost Pete's attention entirely for the night.
"I got a ping earlier today," he began, as he opened the folders and confirmed that they were in fact the files he thought he had grabbed amongst the chaos in his bag. Pete and Myka both reached for the two folders, but Artie jerked one of them away from Myka's outstretched hand, sliding it instead toward Claudia.
"You actually want me to go on a case, after the last time I..." she fell silent as Artie put a hand up and began talking over top of her.
"I already did half the work for you; I've even already highlighted the two most probable items you're looking for," he explained, terse irritation coloring his tone. "Only reason you're doing it at all is that it's quiet enough that we have the luxury of playing offense on this one. It's the perfect case for you to get a little more field experience."
Pete's eyebrow shot up at that. "Easy case," he muttered, getting a snicker out of Claudia. "Famous last words. Myka, be sure that's etched on my tombstone when some easy case inevitably does me in, okay?" Artie rolled his eyes and gathered up his things, quite ready to head to bed and read for a while longer, before sleep would beckon. As he stood up to leave the dining room, Myka caught his eye and mouthed "thank you" to him. Artie nodded almost imperceptibly at her. He didn't figure she wanted anybody else to know she needed a break, and had just gone on sheer hope that Pete wouldn't decide this was a good moment to ask too many questions. He hoped Myka wouldn't want too many more days off, though... even Pete would begin to ask questions if Artie kept her home again anytime soon!
Artie rubbed his face, breathing deeply to calm himself. It had taken what seemed like forever to get Myka and Leena to leave, and then before the dust had even settled, Pete had called with some problem or another in California. It had taken nearly twenty minutes to get rid of him, testing Artie's patience far more than even he had thought possible. Wasn't even an interesting problem, Artie mused as he poured himself a fresh cup of herbal tea. Grabbing a cookie from the plate as he passed the table, he slid back into his office chair. One nice thing about everybody else, even Leena, being away, was the solitude in which he could get a few things done around the Warehouse. While Artie appreciated the lively environment that these new agents and teenage geek had brought to his world, he had developed a healthy appreciation for the rare quiet days, too.
Artie drew another deep, cleansing breath, reveling in the peace and quiet. Just as he brought the cup to his lips, however, he froze, blinking a couple times as he processed the information on the screen. Artie groaned softly and shoveled the cookie into his mouth with one hand as the teacup found the desk almost of its own volition. He leaped from chair, threw a few seemingly random items into his bag on his way to the door, then doubled back to take a gulp of his tea and grab one more cookie before he ran out the door.