AN: What happens if Myka wasn't transferred to the Warehouse with Pete? AU.


1.

Myka Bering is the happiest woman on Earth. She is pretty sure of that. Everything has gone according to the ten year plan she drew up right after high school. She is working in D.C. as the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the Presidential Protective Division. And she got that pat in the back that she always wanted from her father eight months ago when she was promoted. Then there is that little extra that she did not put in her plan. Being in a committed relationship with the most wonderful man she has ever met. Sam is the Director of Investigations here in D.C. He was transferred first and for ten months, they were in a long distance relationship. But still, they made it work. And in two days, they will have been together for five years. So yes, she is certain that she is the happiest woman on this planet, or at least the whole of the United States.

"Let me do the talking," she hears someone say. "I've dealt with her before."

She turns. Great. Pete Lattimer. She was told some agents from South Dakota Secret Service are joining them today. She didn't know it was him. They worked together about a year ago during the President's visit to the Capitol Museum of Natural History. He managed to lose an Aztec blood stone while there. And when asked about it, he said a man with a ray gun stole it. He must have been high at the time. They transferred him to South Dakota after that.

There is a woman with him. Probably another agent from South Dakota. Almost immediately Myka feels pity for her but she must have done something bad to be partnered up with Lattimer.

Lattimer opens his mouth but the woman speaks before he could, "Agent Bering," she holds out his hand, "I am Agent Wells from the South Dakota Secret Service, and I think you know my partner, Agent Lattimer. I believe we will be working together today."

"No," Myka says, leaving Wells' hand hanging. It doesn't seem to bother Wells. "You will be working under me."

Wells' lips curl up into a sly smile. "If that is how you like it. I don't mind being on top or bottom." Lattimer coughs suddenly. A clumsy attempt at trying to mask his laugh. "I always pride myself for being flexible."

"Excuse me?" Myka says.

"I meant I can easily adapt to any kinds of situations," Wells replies, that smile still evident on her face. "What did you think I meant?"

Myka tries to speak but her words can't seem to get past her throat. It has been a while but she knows when she is flirted with. What she doesn't get is how she can be so flustered by it. Finally, she clears her throat. "Have you read the protocol?"

"Yes," Wells answers.

"Both of you?" she looks at Lattimer.

"I did," Lattimer says. "You really like colors, don't you?"

"Stay out of the colored areas," Myka tells them.

"But that's everywhere," says Lattimer.

"Exactly," she says and walks away.

As she leaves them, she hears Lattimer laughing, "I thought MacPherson's definitely lost it when he wanted to debronze you but now, I think I like you."

Wells chuckles. "That leaves only Artie then."

2.

She sometimes thinks of herself as a glorified bouncer. Filtering the people who walks through the entrance. Looking out for anyone who might cause trouble. Kicking them out (or in her case, arresting them). Of course it is more complicated than that and she doesn't do those things herself. But sometimes, that is how it feels like.

The South Dakota clowns are crashing yet another event that the President is attending, ignoring her instructions as they did the last time. She can't kick them out. The order came from high up, so high that even the name of the person who sent it out is classified. No signature on it. Just a stamp that basically says, do what it says on this paper or you are screwed.

She asked Dickinson about them. Even he didn't have the security clearance for it. And he is the Director of Protective Operations. There should not be any level of security clearance above him. But the good news is it pissed him off so much that he is pulling all his resources to find out what the hell is going on with those two but in the meantime, Myka has to give them access to these events.

She assigned one of her agents to keep an eye on them last time. He did not find anything suspicious. He said they just mingled with other people as if they were guests. She doesn't believe him. He must have gotten distracted at some point. So this time, she decides to monitor them herself.

Wells and Lattimer seem to be having fun. Lattimer is telling Senator Williams about this girl Kelly who has been driving him nuts. And Wells is…

"Looking for me?" a voice behind her asks.

Myka turns.

"You have been watching me," Wells says. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you are interested in me."

"I was not—" Myka stops herself. She is getting flustered again. She composes herself. "I am," she says. "I am interested in what you are doing here."

Wells' face lights up. "That is fortunate. I was about to tell you."

"Really?" Myka asks, taken aback by how easy it is to get the information from Wells.

"Yes," Wells replies. "Pete was telling me this social ritual one does when one is trying to court someone. I believe it is called a date. I would like to ask you out on a date."

Myka sighs. "So you're saying you came here to ask me out on a date?"

"Yes."

"And you managed to pull some strings to gain access to the President because you want to ask me out on a date?"

"Well, I was referring to why I am standing here in front of you."

"Wow," Myka says exasperatedly. This is too much. "I am working right now. In case you have forgotten, I am responsible for the President's safety. In fact, you are too."

"You are," Wells says pointing at her. "I was supposed to stay out of the way if I recall your instructions correctly. And does that mean I could ask you later?"

"No!" Myka exclaims which causes everyone in the room to turn their attention to her. She pulls Wells out of the room.

"You knew what I meant when I asked you why you are here," she says after she has closed the door. "So stop playing these games and answer my question. Because I swear to god, I will find a place worse than South Dakota to send you to."

Wells smiles. She keeps doing that as if everything Myka does amuses her greatly. "Firstly, you are wrong to assume I am playing games with you. My intentions while not entirely pure, they are sincere. Secondly, that information is classified. You know that or you would not be trying to scare it out of me. And finally, South Dakota is not that bad. You should come to visit sometime."

3.

She finally finds out what Wells and Lattimer have been up to and she is seriously considering amnesia at the moment because she would very much like to forget the last three hours of her life. It is bizarre and impossible and the more she tries to make sense of it, the more she is convinced that she has lost her mind.

The President was giving a speech and suddenly, everyone was at a standstill except her, Wells, Lattimer and two old men. She recognized one of them. She had seen him before when she was stationed in Denver. She had thought he was suspicious and she briefly questioned him. He was just lurking at a corner, wearing these purple goggles and gloves that matched them. But he turned out to be a senile old man. He didn't look so senile now.

"Why is she still moving?" the not so senile man yelled.

Myka remembered Wells slipping something in her coat pocket. She had pretended not to be aware of it.

"Maybe because of this?" Myka held up the item. It was a marble.

"H.G.!" the man yelled again. It was like he can't speak in an acceptable volume.

"Inside voice, Arthur," the other man said.

"Don't tell me to calm down."

"I am not because we both know that's impossible. I am simply asking you to lower your voice."

"This happens all the time," Wells told her. "It is not your fault."

"I wasn't," Myka said as she tried to process her surroundings while an old couple bickered in the background. "Last thing on mind, actually," she mumbled. Then she looked at Wells and asked, "What is going on?"

"…told you it was a bad idea. Now look at what she's done."

"Pete had no partner. I was using the resources available. She knows…"

The bickering was a little distracting and she kept hearing the word 'warehouse' thrown around. She could barely understand what Wells was telling her but she managed to pick up a few words.

Artifact. Assassination. President. And something being frozen.

Okay, she can piece this together. She never forgets anything. Wells' whole explanation was already in her brain. The words were just jumbled up. She just needed to string them together in coherent sentences.

"I know she has the experience but…"

There were artifacts with supernatural powers and someone was using them to attempt an assassination on the President. They failed the previous two times thanks to Lattimer and Wells but this time, they might succeed as the artifact in question was already affecting the President. It was the Shakespeare's Lost Folio. Myka had heard about it before. She laughed when she was told that it was cursed. Well, she wasn't laughing now. Wells and friends still hadn't figured out how to stop the artifact so they decided to stop time momentarily.

"…she has proven herself many times, Arthur. She even saved your life."

"Enough!" Lattimer yelled suddenly. "We have ten minutes to figure this out. We actually had twenty but your chit chat and bickering…" he paused and inhaled deeply. "You know what?" he said after he had exhaled slowly. "Let's just figure this folio thing out."

"How does this thing work?" Myka asked.

"A few weeks ago, a woman died of snake bite and she said, O Anthony, nay, I will take thee too before she died," the yelling man said. His name was Artie according to Wells and the other man's name was MacPherson.

"And the way she posed was the same as the one depicted in the folio," Wells added.

"We suspect it was the folio," MacPherson said.

"Don't you have a magic bag that will stop it from killing the President?" Myka asked.

"We do," Wells said, "but it only neutralizes the folio so it will not affect anyone else but its effect on the President might not wear off."

"You said you suspect it was the folio that killed the woman. So you're not sure?"

"The crime scene was clean," Lattimer said. "If there was an artifact, the killer either took it or it burned off."

"Wait," Myka said. "I remember reading about the folio."

"Nerd alert," Lattimer muttered which earned him a glare from Wells.

Myka ignored him. "If someone touches the picture, they will die unless they speak the dying words of the person before some flame."

"That makes sense," Artie said. "There wasn't a page from the folio because it burned. So as long as we get the President to say the words, he should fine."

Myka went to the podium. The President was looking a little blue. There was a paper with a picture depicting Hamlet's death on the podium.

"He has to say the rest is silence," Myka told them. "So what are we waiting for? You can start time again."

"It doesn't work that way," Wells informed her. "We have to wait another three minutes."

4.

"So do you do this a lot?" she asked Wells while they were waiting. "Stopping time to save people?"

"Oh, no," Wells said. "We reserve that privilege for very important people only which in my opinion, is unfair. But if you use the Rosen Marbles too many times, it could shorten your life. Most people think that justifies its limited use."

"Does this mean—" Myka started to worry.

"Don't worry, darling. It's your first time."

"How about you?" Myka asked.

Wells smiled. "This concern is flattering but you need not worry about me. I have lived longer than I am supposed to."

"But—"

Wells grasped her shoulders and whispered, "It's time."

Then time was in motion again. Myka saved the President as planned and those four managed to slip away unnoticed in all the chaos.

It felt exciting at first. Being the hero. But now that she has processed all the information, she is freaking out. She wants to tell someone about what she has been through. She actually tried but they are claiming that the President was having an asthma attack and Myka just managed to calm him down. The only people who could back her story are not reachable. She contacted South Dakota Secret Service. They have no records of either Wells or Lattimer. And since she doesn't want to lose her job, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

Sam is working late today so she should be going back to an empty apartment. But when she opens the door, she realizes that the doormat is a little off. She pulls out her gun and carefully walks through the apartment.

She sees a shadow to her left. The placement of her furniture makes it impossible for the shadow to be there. She slowly walks towards it.

"Miss Bering," she immediately points her gun at the voice. Clearly, the intruder has been expecting her. From the silhouette, she can tell that it is a woman. The woman steps out of the shadows. "I believe you have had the pleasure of working with my agents."

"You mean Lattimer and Wells?"

"I have always had my eye on you," says the woman.

"Who are you again?"

"Call me Mrs Frederic. I am with the government. As I said, I have been watching you for a while now. I have just never had the opportunity to introduce myself. But now I think it is the perfect time to invite you."

A man appears suddenly behind Myka with an envelope.

"Invite me to what?" Myka asks, taking the envelope.

"To endless wonder," replies Mrs Frederic.

5.

It turns out that there is a whole warehouse filled with artifacts in South Dakota. They want to hire her. Usually, they would just order the person to immediately transfer but the agents are also usually single and since Myka is in a committed relationship, Mrs Frederic gave her a week to decide.

She told Sam about it. Sam thought that it was crazy.

"Why would you want to be transferred to South Dakota?" Sam had asked her. "That's a demotion."

"No, it's not," she told him. "Believe me. I want to tell you all about it but it's classified. You should be able understand that."

"But it's South Dakota," Sam repeated many times during their conversation. "Does this have something to do with that Wells you keep talking?"

"No!" she protested immediately. "She has nothing to do with it. It's…it's something greater. You were the one who told me that it's human nature to seek something greater, to be greater than they are. This is that something greater."

"Bunny," he sighed. "This means that we're going to live in different states."

"We did it before."

"I don't think I could do it again," he said. "I was distracted most of time and I almost got one of my agents killed. When you got that promotion, it felt like the best news in the world. You get that, right?"

She actually didn't. Sure, she missed him and she got excited when she finished work and she got to talk to him. But when she was at work, she was focused. That was why she got the promotion.

"So what does it mean for us if I take this job?" she asked him.

"I guess it means we're over."

That made her so angry. He didn't even want to try. Five years of her life down the drain. Just like that. So she stormed out and went straight to the nearest bar. It didn't even occur to her that she hadn't even decided to take the job yet.

She is a little drunk right now and she is heading somewhere she knows she shouldn't. But she keeps on walking.

She found a card in her coat pocket yesterday with the name of a hotel and a number written on it. She was going to throw it away but she kept forgetting about it.

After walking for about five blocks, she realizes that it is too far to walk. So she flags a cab down. She gives the driver the card. And when she arrives at the hotel, she goes straight to room 1820 and knocks on the door without hesitation.

"Hello, Myka," Wells greets her, not looking the least bit surprised. "Is it okay to call you Myka since we are not currently in a professional setting?"

"Sure," Myka says. "And can I call you…" It occurs to her that she has never asked what Wells' first name is. Although, she knows it starts with the letter H.

"Helena," says Wells.

"Helena," Myka repeats. "Pretty name. So Hele-na, I was thinking about you and remembered that you mentioned something about your not so pure intentions towards me."

"I do remember that," Wells, no, Helena says. "I believe this is what you call a booty call?"

"Great," Myka says, moving closer towards Helena. "So we understand each other." She gently tugs Helena's shirt. Helena has very beautiful eyes. Magnificent brown orbs of…something pretty. She is drunk.

Helena looks like she wants to kiss Myka. There is desire in those brown orbs of something pretty. So Myka goes for it but either Helena ducked or she is drunker than she thought because Myka's lips hit Helena's cheek instead of her lips.

"I would rather we talk first," Helena says.

"That's not how a booty call works."

"Let's call it foreplay."

Myka frowns. "Talking turns you on?"

"Yes," Helena nods. "Very much so." And there is that smile again except this time it doesn't annoy her as before.

6.

They didn't have sex which is a relief because she is not a cheater. They talked all night until she fell asleep. Actually, she did most of the talking. Helena listened. The only time Helena spoke was when she was telling Myka about Warehouse 13. That is what they call the warehouse with the artifacts. There were twelve others before this one. Hence, the number thirteen.

When Helena talked about the Warehouse, she seemed fond of it but there was a slight resentment that Myka could sense. At times, Helena would clench her teeth and when she realized what she was doing, she'd try to cover it with a smile. At one point, Myka placed both her palms on each of Helena's cheeks and said, "That's not how you smile." And she tried to mold a "real" smile from Helena by stretching and squeezing Helena's face. She obviously failed since Helena wasn't made out of clay. However, that act itself caused Helena to laugh. "And that's how you do it," she told Helena.

Helena is still sleeping. Myka slowly gets out of the bed and creeps to the door. But as she is about to open the door, she hears the bed creak. She turns and sees that Helena has woken up.

"I…" she doesn't know what to say.

Helena blinks and stares at her blankly. She is obviously not fully awake yet.

"Thank you for last night," Myka finally says.

Helena smiles. "Well, usually, people who get into bed with me leave with a smile so I don't know what you are thanking me for."

Myka chuckles.

"That is more like it," Helena says. "You are welcome."

"Goodbye, Helena," Myka says, opening the door.

"Myka," Helena calls her before she could leave. "Every Warehouse agent can tell one person about the Warehouse. It is usually reserved for someone very important in their life. So if you have someone like that, you should tell him."

"But I haven't decided," Myka says.

"We both know that isn't true. I mean with my charm alone—"

"Leaving now," Myka says, rolling her eyes and closes the door behind her.

7.

When she gets home, Sam is waiting for her with shadows underneath his eyes from lack of sleep.

"Where were you?" he asks. "I called you like a million times."

She checks her phone. Twenty seven missed calls. A long way from a million.

"I was with Helena," she admits honestly.

"Who?"

"I mean Wells."

"What were you doing with her?" Sam asks. She can tell that he is trying not to yell at her. So he does feel guilty about last night.

"We didn't do anything. Well, I almost did but she stopped me."

"I knew it. This is whole South Dakota thing. It is about her."

"No, Sam," Myka sighs. "It is not about her. The thing that you keep failing to grasp is that this is about me. What I want."

"So, what?" Sam asks as he stands up from the couch. "I'm not even in the equation anymore?"

"Until this morning," Myka says, "you were the only one in the equation."

Sam sits, actually, falls back down onto the couch. His face no longer contorting with anger, just sadness. Like Helena, he knows too.

"Sam," Myka sits next to him. She takes his hand. "I can tell you—"

"Don't," he says. "My life is here. I'm going live here for the rest of my life and that's never going to change."

"But the work I'll be doing is important. If I could just explain—"

"Don't," he stops her again. "What do you want us to do? Have a long distance relationship until retirement?"

"We can make it work," Myka says.

"You know, you haven't asked me if I wanted to go with you."

"Do you want to?"

"That's the thing," he says. "I've been up all night thinking about it and I don't want you to ask because then, I would have to say no. We've been together for five years now and neither of us wants to sacrifice our careers for the other. What does that say about our relationship?"

She squeezes his hand. "That tells us that we are two rational adults. We don't make rash decisions just based on our feelings."

"But isn't that what you're doing?" Sam asks. "You've spent less than a day with these people doing god knows what and that's all it took for you to run to South Dakota to work with them."

"I can tell you what they," she corrects herself, "we do. You'll understand."

"I don't want to understand. I need the anger. I can't be angry if I understand."

Myka kisses his cheek and places her head on his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you," she tells him.

"Me too, bunny."

"Not going to miss that."

He chuckles. "You don't like bunny?"

"It got old after two years."

"Too late," he says. "It's stuck now. Bunny."

She laughs. She is going to miss him so much.

8.

K39ZZZ. She almost misses the turn. She suspects everybody misses it the first time. It is blocked by a gate that is covered with tall grass making it barely visible for passers-by. It doesn't look like anyone has gone through it in ages.

When she arrives in front of the Warehouse, she is greeted by Lattimer holding what she can only describe as some sort of a rifle.

"I was fixing the fish," he tells her. "Good news. You'll be the one who is going to do it from now on," he hands it to her. He then clicks on a transponder and the Warehouse entrance opens automatically.

They enter into a corridor. There are these tubes along it. Before she could even think of touching one of them, Lattimer warns, "Don't touch the bombs."

At the end of the corridor, there is a door. Lattimer looks into an eye scanner and the door unlocks. Behind it is an office.

"Come on," Lattimer says, "you're going to like this. I love it when a new agent sees the Warehouse for the first time."

They go out into a balcony and she sees that Mrs Frederic wasn't exaggerating when she said endless wonder. Myka expects the wonder part because she has seen it but this warehouse, it stretches so far that she really can't see the end of it.

"Awesome, right?" Lattimer asks.

She nods, "Uh-huh."

After the tour, she asks the question she has been dying to ask ever since she arrived, "Where is Helena?"

Pete grins, "We usually call her H.G."

"So her name is really H.G. Wells?" She thought she had misheard it when Artie called Helena H.G.

"Well, yeah," Lattimer says. "I mean, she is H.G. Wells."

"I got that. Her name—"

"No, she is the real H.G. Wells."

And right on cue, Helena comes through the door. "Are you talking about me? I heard my name. Good things, I hope."

It kind of makes sense. The way she refers to common terms like they are new and that comment about living longer than she should when she is only in her mid-thirties.

"I just told her who you are," Lattimer explains. "I think she's a fan of your work."

"Oh, my god," Myka says, mortified. "I touched your face."

Lattimer raises an eyebrow and looks questioningly at Helena.

"I touched H.G. Wells' face with my hands and squished it like it's Play-Doh."

Lattimer laughs. "I can top that," he says. "I kissed her which is kind of gross," he shivers, "since she's a grandma."

Myka punches him. It was like reflex. Her arm just moved on its own.

"Ow!" Lattimer exclaims, rubbing his arm.

"She is not a grandma," Myka says.

"If you say so," he mutters.

Helena chuckles.

"Children," Artie suddenly bursts into the room, "we have another hit on Edison."

"He is the person who is trying to kill the President," Helena whispers.

"He's not Thomas Edison, is he?" Myka jokingly asks.

Helena just smiles. Myka looks at Lattimer. "Oh, yes," he mouths, nodding.

Artie hands each of them a file. Myka is the last one who he gives a file to.

As she takes the file from him, he says, "Welcome to endless wonder."