Notes: this is both a response to a prompt as well as a kind of an ending for my other fic, you know, so I don't leave ya' hangin' :)
It has been 3 years since Myka and Pete managed to clear Helena's name in the eyes of the Regents, and truly, hers was a most fascinating case.
It turns out that unbeknownst to everyone, Helena's problems started almost at the beginning.
After losing her daughter Christina, the Wells family was utterly baffled by their daughter's bizarre illness, trying nearly everything their substantial fortune could afford with little success. In the end the answer came from one of Charles' eccentric acquaintances that heard of the Wells' daughter's ailment via the frequent letters that he shared with Helena's older brother. He claimed to be able to help - and at the end of their wits - the senior Wells consented. Thus Helena was sent to Germany to live under the care of one Dr. Emil Kraepelin for a one-year trial term.
In retrospect, and as far as anyone can tell, H.G. is the only known agent to witness the creation of an artifact first hand, even if she wasn't aware of the fact at the time, for it was Helena's fathomless sorrow over the loss of her child coupled with Kraepelin's phenomenal genius and empathy that imbued his notebook with the power of an artifact.
It was an unremarkable day when it happened. Helena and Emil were in the midst of one of their sessions while the good doctor was taking notes in his little booklet, and out of nowhere an epiphany hit him:
Christina's death triggered a nervous breakdown in his patient; H.G. Wells was suffering from a bout of clinical depression that, coupled with such a magnificent and volatile mind, was manifesting itself as disillusionment and bitterness towards the world at large and maybe even a little bit of what he would later term as pure paranoia.
Such a breakthrough in human understanding was the catalyst to the notebook's newfound power. Sadly and ironically the minute it "awakened" as an artifact, it backfired on one of its oblivious creators and what was supposed to be a temporary and curable - if somewhat extreme - bout of depression for Helena turned into a nigh magical affliction that would span centuries and bronzing and come close to making her destroy all of civilization.
Needless to say that dealing with Kraepelin's notebook was one of Pete and Myka's more dangerous adventures because unlike most artifacts, this one had subtlety in its corner. Like a cancerous growth or the AIDS virus, it slowly consumed its victim from within – unlike other artifacts that tended to express their power in a rather fantastical and explosive manner. Thus the extreme paranoia and hell-bent need to destroy the world would look to the victim's immediate environment as if they manifest naturally in what should have otherwise been a sanely seeming person.
Of course it was all worth it in the end.
It had taken a little bit of fast talking, and yes there were a few more-than-tense moments, but eventually the Regents begrudgingly admitted that they made a mistake and that they should have realized early on that they were dealing with a victim of an artifact and not a villain.
And yes, Myka must admit that she will forever have a soft-spot deep in her heart of hearts for Pete's retarded behavior that prompted him to do what she, as an adult, couldn't - which was to stick his tongue out and wiggle his fingers at the Regents as they were releasing a gaunt and broken looking Helena from whatever hell-hole they dredged her out of.
Since then many things had happened.
After a period of healing and soul searching, of which she has yet to talk about, Helena was once again reinstated as an agent under Pete's assurance that the third time's the charm. The familiar work and the consummation of her mutual attraction with Myka were finally giving the inventor the sense of peace and stability that was missing from her life for nearly 150 years.
Claudia had been instated as the warehouse's new caretaker, a process that was surprisingly painless for both her and Mrs. Fredric - whose cause for retirement was an anticlimactic, "it's about time I spent some time with my family."
Who knew she had 18 grandkids?
It had taken time for Artie to admit that he was wrong about Helena. It had taken him about two more years to admit it out loud. Much of his disgust with her was actually a product of self-hate that found a convenient purchase in the form of Helena. But in the end even that happened - with no small thanks to one Dr. Vanessa Calder. She had definitely been a calming and socializing influence on his life.
They were all growing, even Pete.
Though his current state of being might beg to differ the statement.
"Calling in Nightcrawler, calling in Nightcrawler, do you read me? Kchhh. Jacob Black has left the treasury, I repeat; Jacob Black has left the treasury, over?"
"Pete what are you doing? And why are you making static sounds into that walky-talky, the whole point is that the machine does it itself," Myka asks in a long suffering tone as she walks out of Leena's kitchen with a cup of coffee. It is way too early in the morning for her to have any sort of patience for Pete's shenanigans. She peers at him through sleep-crusted eyes and then takes a peak at her broad leather wrist watch.
8:00am on a Sunday morning. What the hell?
She had been so sure that nobody would be awake at such a time on a weekend, least of all Pete, and as such allowed herself to troop down to the coffee-maker, at the behest of her girlfriend, in nothing but her pajamas, these consisting of nothing more than an old wife-beater and a pair of blue boy-cut panties with a pattern of steam-punk-looking gadgets all over them – Helena's gift.
For his part, Pete is crouched behind a potted plant next to the door, decked out in a full camo outfit, complete with face paint and fake plastic grass duct-taped to his head and various appendages.
"Who me?" he says, after which he leaps and rolls on the hardwood floor to crouch behind a potted plant a little further away.
Myka rubs her eyes with the hand that is not holding the mug.
"Please tell me there's a reason why you're playing G.I. Joe at your ripe age? And who the heck is Night-crawler?"
Ripe? Pete mouths at her with an indignant expression as he straightens up from behind his plant.
"That would be me," Claudia informs her from somewhere right behind her.
Myka leaps about a foot off the floor, spilling a bit of the coffee.
"Dammit Claude! I hate it when you do that," she tells the grinning redhead as she puts her hand over her heart.
"Hence the name, get it? My newfound caretaker mutant-powers let me go 'Bamf!'" she demonstrates by suddenly appearing next to Pete.
They high-five.
"Whatever. I'm going back to my room," she informs the duo.
As she walks up the stairs she can hear Pete's not-so-secretive voice speaking into his walky-talky again.
"Nightcrawler, Jacob is climbing up the ladder. What's your status? Over."
She spins around angrily and glares at Pete who is ignoring her at the foot of the stairs. Claudia is nowhere to be seen.
"Edward has just left the crypt and is moving to the waterfall, over." Claudia's staticy voice is heard from his radio.
"Are you two spying on my girlfriend?" she asks Pete as she starts to menacingly descend back down the stairs.
"Uhh, maybe?" Pete answers as he backs away. Before she gets too close he turns around and flees like a panicked monkey, leaping over furniture with a whoop and a holler.
Naturally, she gives chase.
From the kitchen entrance Leena looks on.
"Whooo, that was close," she says to herself with a smile.
She lifts her own walky-talky to her mouth and speaks.
"Nightcrawler, do you copy? This is Vixen; wolf-boy is being taken out for a walk. How are things on your end?"
"Everything's cool Vixen, Cullen just needed a bit more time; last minute nerves I think," Leena hears from her radio.
"Well, tell me when you guys are ready and I'll get Captain Underpants to bring Jacob back."
"Roger Vixen, this is Nightcrawler, over and out."
Outside Myka manages to tackle Pete down to the lawn and wrap her body around his arm in a full-blown Juji-Gatame hold.
"Ugh!" Pete's muffled grunt can be heard from behind Myka's knee-pit as his face starts turning red and the veins on his forehead pop out.
"Tell me what you're up to Pete!"
"Neeeeveeeer!"
"I'm serious Pete, why are you and Claudia spying on Helena and I?" she asks angrily. "And why do I get 'Jacob Black' as my Secret Service codename?" she asks as an afterthought.
"Oh come on! Can you really see anybody but Helena being Edward? She's so pale; she really does glitter in the sunli-UGHH!"
Myka further stretches his arm and gives him her patented scrunch-lipped Myka-glare, one that is completely lost on him what with his face being plastered to the grass by the back of her leg.
"I could at least be Bella!" she informs him.
"Are you kidding me? You're huge! And anyways, everybody knows that Edward and Jacob are totally hot for each other and are just using Bella as a beard."
Myka is about to answer when Pete's walky-talky suddenly makes a sound; they both freeze and stare at his waist where the device is hooked to his commando belt.
That's when Myka feels something wet and warm lather the back of her leg. She immediately detangles and hops away from the huffing man.
"Eeeew, Pete! You did not just lick the back of my knee!"
Pete remains prone, dazed, and winded on the grass.
"Ugh, you are so gross!"
Myka rubs the back of her leg as Pete shakily detaches his radio from the belt and presses the call button.
"Nightcrawler, this is Captain Marvel. Over," he huffs into the device.
"Captain, Edward is ready to glitter, over," Claudia's voice pipes up from the radio.
"Roger Nightcrawler, I'm sending her over, over."
He tilts his neck back to look at Myka upside-down from his position in the grass.
"Hey Myks, weren't you going to get some coffee to your girlfriend?"
Myka looks at him in bewilderment; she blinks and then narrows her eyes.
"I'm going to find out what's going on Pete, just you wait," she wags her finger at him and stalks back to the house.
"I'm counting on it," Pete smiles to himself after she leaves. He laces his fingers together over his stomach and basks in the pleasant morning sun.
When Myka enters her room again it is to a transformed scene.
The bed has been made, the windows have been opened wide to let in a pleasant breeze and the morning sunshine. It looks cleaner somehow, fresh.
Of course the two most obvious changes are, one: the thousands of deep-red rose petals that have been strewn all over the area and are giving off a pleasant smell, and two: Helena G. Wells sitting on her knees in the middle of the bed, wearing the most scandalous piece of sexy lingerie that Myka has even seen. It's black and silky and involves a corset and stockings and all kinds of interesting bits.
"Wuhh," she says dumbly.
Helena smiles a very pleased smile.
"I'm happy you think so darling, but I need your response to be a bit more articulate for my next question," she says as she moves off the bed and stalks over to the shell-shocked woman.
Myka clears her throat.
"Uhh, is this all for me?" she asks in an adorably honest tone.
"Of course," Helena smiles and pets the taller woman's cheek affectionately. She uses her other hand to grab Myka's palm.
"Wha-?" Myka looks down when she feels something small and hard being placed in her hand. She opens her fingers to look at the object and gasps.
"Will you marry me, love?" Helena asks her as she gently lifts the simple golden band from her girlfriend's palm.
Myka looks up, still in shock, but slowly the biggest smile breaks over her face.
H.G. lets out a relieved, if shaky, laugh and slips the ring on Myka's finger.
They embrace and kiss. A warm breeze dances through the room, swirling some of the petals.
From outside the room they can hear Claudia's muffled voice as she says, "She said yes!" and then a round of cheers from the others.
~ END ~