I loved the body swap episode (2x08), but didn't really care for Kurt Smoller. I understand the high school crush aspect, but he is not someone I think Myka would be interested in as an adult. This picks up at the end of the conversation between Myka and Kurt at the bar and veers off from there. The body swap still happens, but kind of skips over it. The case, and how they reversed the switch, stays the same. This is more before and after the switch.
Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13 or any of the related characters. You know, in case you thought I did. Which I don't. Obvs.
"Well, maybe we should catch up sometime," you chuckle.
"Yeah, well, you want to join us for a drink?" Kurt asks giving you a charming smile. "I mean, you remember the guys- Royboy and Gabers and Phil."
"Yeah, I-I remember them," you answers, a fake smile plastered on your face. You do, in fact, remember them. You remember them being complete assholes in high school who wouldn't give you the time of day. "Maybe later," you say. You do consider it, if it was just him and not his group of friends. Kurt was actually pretty nice to you in high school. You weren't friends per se, but he wasn't like the other guys he hung out with. You don't think that he's someone you would actually date, but it would be nice to catch up.
"Maybe later," he says back dejectedly. You watch as he backs away before turning to rejoin his group.
"Hey, I'll have another one," you say to the bartender as you turn back towards the bar. You sit there staring at the bar, and then at the drink that the bartender slides in front of you. You take a sip, then absentmindedly swirl the straw in the glass. Why did I let Pete talk me into coming back here? you ask yourself. It's just like high school. You sit there, by yourself, sipping your drink ignoring your surroundings hoping to forget where you are. You are so unaware of what's going on around you that you almost jump out of your skin when you hear a voice right next to you.
"Is this seat taken?" you hear a very familiar English accented voice ask.
You turn to look at the person the voice belongs to, a mixture of confusion and shock apparent on your face, along with a tiny bit of excitement. That last bit is probably what causes the confusion. After an absurdly long pause, along with an arched eyebrow and smirk from the woman next to you, you nod your consent. "Go ahead."
"Thank you," H.G. says and as she gracefully slides onto the barstool next to yours. "A scotch, please," she asks of the bartender.
"So, H.G," you say turning your body towards her. "What brings you to Colorado Springs? There are no artifacts here. That I'm aware of at least."
"Your presence here is not enough of a reason?" she replies smoothly. "You should think more highly of yourself, Agent Bering." She takes a drink of her scotch, sighing slightly as she places the glass back on the bar top. "And please, call me Helena."
"Okay, Helena," you smile back. You take another sip of your vodka tonic, watching her over the rim of your glass. "You know," you say as you rest your glass on the bar, "most women don't enjoy being stalked."
"Is that so?" she smirks back at you. "Well, I do apologize, but it is the only means I have available to me at the moment." You raise an inquiring eyebrow at her. "I can only assume what would happen to me if I were to show up in that quaint little town you call home, and you didn't give me your number."
"Right," you nod. She'd be back in the Bronze Sector faster than you could blink. You really don't want that to happen. "That probably wouldn't be the best idea. You didn't really give me a chance to give you my number, though did you?" You return her smirk with one of your own taking another sip of your drink. "Really, though, why are you here? There is no case for you to help me on to prove your worth as an agent. I'm not here for the Warehouse."
"As I said, Agent Bering," she says reaching her hand over to caress your arm which you have resting on the bar. "I am here to see you. No other reason than that."
You inhale deeply, looking her over. She's looking back at you, her expression appears to be honest, and her smile is definitely charming. You finish your drink with one last gulp, then place the glass back on the bar, pushing it away from you. You wave the bartender over, quickly sign the bill that he's brought over as you rise from your seat. You start heading towards the lobby, turning to glance back at her over your shoulder. "Are you coming?" you ask in what you hope is an enticing manner.
You see her smirk, tossing a few bills onto the bar as she moves to follow you. She catches up to you as you reach the elevators. You hope the nervousness that you are feeling doesn't show on your face. You don't usually do this. Invite a near stranger up to your hotel room. You have never been this impulsive, but the look on her face, the charming lilt to her words, the way she looks at you, it makes you want to be impulsive. She makes you want things, makes you feel things, which you've never experienced before. It feels rather exciting, as well as slightly terrifying.
You both step into the elevator, you push the button for your floor. You glance over at her as she leans against the far wall opposite where you stand. You can't help but think she looks dashing. The antique look to her attire, the loose fitting men's button down dress shirt that isn't quite buttoned all the way, tight black trousers, not to mention the coat straight out of the eighteen-nineties ruffled coattails and all, it is all very, very appealing. She keeps her distance though, allowing you much needed space as the lift slowly ascends to your floor.