Untold Stories
by Erin Griffin
Fandom: Warehouse 13/Doctor Who

Pairing: Hints of Myka/Helena, River/Eleven

Disclaimer: BBC and SyFy own these characters

Spoilers: You need to know the entire 2nd season of Warehouse 13. I tried not to spoil too much of Doctor Who. You just need to know who River is.

Summary: A mysterious woman tries to convince Myka to return to the Warehouse.

Getting back into the Warehouse 13 fandom just in time for the premier in 3 days. I feel rusty. Forgive me.

There was a silence that surrounded her that only a librarian could appreciate. As books lined the shelves separated by genre and author, Myka read quietly in what has become known as Bering's Corner, if only in her mind. The coffee shop's reading room wasn't used by many people this time of night, and Myka was at peace here. Every now and then, she would have company, usually a shy college student who studied at the table while she read one of many stories on the large recliner. As the nights got colder, the fire warmed her. That is, if she felt anything at all as she got lost in another world for a while. It made her own world not hurt as badly. Slowly the echoes of Helena Wells died in her head, her heart stopped beating too hard, too fast, and she felt as if she could breathe without having to rearrange her entire body just to do so. She felt as though she was on the mend. She was feeling almost normal again, or what a woman like her could call normal.

And that was when Myka noticed.

It was nothing more than the slight sound of moving fabric, the smell of the same perfume in the most random of places, or the titter of laughter that didn't seem to belong anywhere, but it was enough for Myka to be on guard. It wasn't Helena- that much Myka was certain of, but the way this person moved and watched her was much the same as Helena might. Myka thought at first that maybe it was someone from the Warehouse, but she knew better. Claudia would have been on her faster than anything had she actually found her, and Myka made sure the hacker never would. The Regents were nowhere near this conspicuous, and Pete, well…

No, there was something different in this… this woman's movements that made the bookworm in her curious and the Warehouse agent in her suspicious and on guard. "So, you noticed." There was no question, but there was definitely a hint of amusement in this woman's voice. Myka slowly lowered the book that she pretended to read and wondered just where this woman had come from. It was like she wasn't there, and then she was. Myka had been keeping her feelers out for her all night, and hadn't caught a clue, and yet there she was, in one of the corners, slowly slipping Karma Sutra back in its rightful spot on the shelf. Myka stood up, and face this woman. She wasn't tall, but the heels of her boots gave off that illusion. Still, as Myka got closer, the woman barely stood at the same height as the agent. The woman had curly blonde hair, and the agent could only guess at the eye color from where she stood. Green or hazel perhaps. All Myka knew was that they were sad as they looked at her, even though her original greeting was light. This woman seemed to pity the agent, and Myka didn't like it. This woman didn't KNOW her, yet she dared to show pity? Myka dared another step, and, after running her finger over the spines of some of the books closest to her, she took a couple more. "Hello sweetie," the blonde woman said, her voice soft and sad. There was something motherly about her tone.

"Who are you?"

"Someone you're not supposed to know."

"What is that supposed to mean?" the agent asked. The woman ran a hand over the side of her black shirt. Myka did her best to keep her eyes from straying. The woman was showing a lot of skin. It was almost impossible not to peek. Though Myka had gotten over the initial shock that she may be a little… that way because of her reaction to H.G Wells, it didn't give her free reign to stare at other women.

"I do not have a lot of time before my presence becomes too much for this stream to handle, but I can't see a tragic love story and not want to fix it. Call me a romantic."

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

"You do," was all the woman said as a response. "You're angry, love. I get that, but it isn't too late."

Myka turned away towards the books as if they would suck her in yet again and take her away from this woman. "Trust someone who knows a thing or two about tales that end unhappily ever after. Some people are destined for all time, some run out of time, and some have no time at all."

"And you?" Myka dared to ask.

"Ah," the woman said with a slight, bitter laugh, "and some timelines travel in the opposite direction."

"Time travel is impossible, Myka said after she took in what the woman had said.

"Not if you no the right people or have the right tools, but I digress. My point is, Agent Bering, is I know how the story ends, and it could be different. It needs to be different."

"What do you want from me?"

"Go back to Warehouse 13," the woman said so softly that she wouldn't have heard her had she not been less than a foot away now. "They need you. She needs you. And I know you need them too."

Myka's eyes became slightly wild as she shook her head. She wished for a refill on her tea, a Twizzler- anything to fill her hands. She touched the tip of her index finger to the spine of a book, tipping it back and then placing it completely on the shelf again before she was able to look at this woman with a little more composure. "I don't know who you are, or what your angle is, but I can't go back. I- I can't."

The woman, surprisingly, sighed. Myka expected a better argument or even a fight, but the woman's eyes just stared at her, sad and tired before she turned away slightly. "Very well."

"What can be so bad that I not go back to the Warehouse?"

"Ah ah ah… Spoilers."

"Of course," Myka said, but it was unclear just what her thoughts really were.

"It's not too late to change your mind. I'll leave you with a little… gift. I know that where they've got 'er isn't lax, but I've got a friend that has helped me make breaking in and out of prison into an art. We've gone a long way together, so I'll be wanting it back."

"Uh…"

"I hope you do change your mind, agent Bering. If not for… Well, if only for you, I s'pose." The woman looked over to the seat Myka had just evacuated to talk to her, and the agent followed her gaze. She noticed that her jacket was still there, but neatly folded over the back of the chair, not opened in the absence of her body like it had been before. When she looked up to where the woman was, there was nothing. The woman was gone. She moved quickly around the bookshelf and the back to her chair, but she was gone. There was still the faint scent of her perfume, and Myka would have been able to swear she heard the soft laughter that now seemed to belong there, but she had no proof of it not being in her head. Myka felt it was just as well that the woman left when she did. The longer she remained in that conversation, the more confused Myka got. Myka didn't like being confused.

The agent walked over to the chair, slowly inspecting her jacket with her eyes. She noticed the bulge in her right pocket that hadn't been there before, and she grabbed for it. She reached slowly in the pocket and pulled out a strange device and a slip of paper. It looked strange, like a pen sized green flashlight. She quickly replaced it, wondering what it was and why the woman had given it to her. Did that woman know she was going to use it? Was that why she expected to get it back? Myka worried her lip as she thought about it. She looked at the piece of paper, which read:

'Help her write a better ending.'

Myka sat heavily in the chair for more than an hour after that, replaying the conversation over and over again. There was so much that the woman hadn't said, that perhaps she couldn't say. Was she really from the future? Her knowledge of her and Helena seemed to suggest as much. And what the hell was the doohickey she had been given? When will the woman be back to claim it? Would she wake up after an employee softly nudges her, having dozed off in the chair again? It all felt so real, but she knew that time travel was impossible. Slowly, she stood again. If this was a dream, she wanted to see where it went. If it wasn't, well… Who was she to pass up an opportunity given to her by a strange time traveling fairy godmother?