Hey! I just want to say that this story's been niggling in the back of my mind for quite some time, and also that it's set before Steve Jinx arrives.

Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13, just the plot of this story.

Thank you!

"Run, Pete! Run!" Myka screamed. Her face was ashen, and horror-struck. Yet another deafeningly loud boom shattered what remained of the Warehouse windows. "I'm right behind you," she promised. Another boom, the loudest yet, brought down flaming beams from the ceiling, blocking his view from her.

"Myka!" Pete yelled.

Two days ago...

"Myka, Leena's made your favourite!" Pete yelled in the general direction of his partner's room. Myka yawned and stretched, feeling in no mood to get up. Nevertheless, she dragged her lead-like body out of bed and into the shower. After having a shower, throwing on some jeans and a cotton shirt, brushing her hair (deciding to leave it down) and reflecting on how long it took a girl to get ready in the morning, she stepped lightly downstairs, hoping to not be noticed. The last time she'd worn this shirt, Pete had stared at her chest. She hated this shirt with a passion because of that reason, but all her other clothes were at the dry cleaners. The shirt in question was a size too small, and so amplified any curves she may or may not have.

"I bet you love this," she heard Pete say.

"Oh, yeah!" Claudia smiled. Myka was just outside the doorway to the kitchen where this conversation was taking place, and so hung back, hoping to catch any information.

"Just up your alley. God, I love pancakes," Pete moaned. "I need syrup." Myka had to bite back a laugh as she heard that. No one else said anything for a moment, and Myka decided it was time to make an appearance.

"Pete, pancakes are your favourite, not mine," she said as she walked in. Pete looked up from his mountain of "breakfast" and greeted her.

"Hey, Mykes! I know, but I needed to get you up somehow. Do you even have a favourite breakfast?" He asked.

"No." She said distractedly. "Pet, could you come and help me with something?"

"But... Myka..." Pete looked mournfully at his pancakes.

"I'll put your pancakes in the microwave, okay?" She smiled.

"Fine." Pete growled. Winking at Claudia, who giggled, she half-dragged Pete from his chair and up the stairs to her room.

"Stop looking at my chest," Myka hissed at him.

"I like that top," Pete murmured.

"I know."

"That's why you wore it, isn't it?" Pete smiled.

"No, it is not why I wore it. It is why it's gathered dust at the bottom of my closet since I got here. I don't even know why I brought it." Pete just smiled again. She led him into her room, and turned around to look at him.

"What do you need help with?" He asked.

"You're not going to like it," Myka warned him.

"Let's just get it over with," Pete sighed.

"I need to move my closet."

"What? Why do you want to move your closet?"

"Because I don't like it where it is."

"Why?" Pete asked her incredulously.

"I had a nightmare."

"Aww, did ickle Myka have a nightmare last night about the scary monsters in her closet?"

"Don't, Pete." She looked up at him, and he saw tears threatening to overflow. She hastily wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I've not been sleeping well. Just... Please, just stop." Pete felt his heart break to look at her like this, like a broken lily, and he knew he'd crossed the line.

"No, Mykes. I'm the one who's sorry," he said, drawing her into a hug. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was about you." Pete was surprised. He'd never expected her to open up.

"About me?" He asked.

"Yeah." Myka laughed. "It almost seems stupid now. I was thinking about our last case, about how you had my back, and I guess my subconscious kind of... Twisted that."

"Twisted how?" Pete was beginning to worry now. His partner was having nightmares about him betraying her? Betraying the Warehouse?

"We were sitting on the couch, I'd fallen asleep on you. Claudia was doing inventory, and Artie and Leena had disappeared somewhere. I felt safe, completely safe, for the first time in a long while." Myka smiled. Pete just waited for her to continue, dreading the next bit. They were still standing there, swaying slightly, hugging. "Suddenly, everything went dark, and I opened my eyes. It was pitch black, apart from you. Your eyes were different, somehow darker than the darkness surrounding us. Your arms will still slung loosely around my shoulders, but they were slowly getting tighter, until I couldn't breathe. You had me in a chokehold, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Your hands slipped round my throat, and... And... I know it's stupid, but... I just can't... I was so scared, Pete!" She burrowed her head deeper into his shoulder, and Pete felt numb. He couldn't imagine ever hurting Myka. He found himself taking her chin in his hand and tilting her head up to look at him. She blinked at him through wet lashes, and Pete felt the breath catch in his throat. She was beautiful.

"Myka. I would never, ever hurt you. You need to understand that. We're partners, and best friends, and me hurting you, even in your dreams, sickens me to the core, okay? You are safe with me, and you always will be. I promise." Fresh tears leaked down her cheeks, and he just held her until she'd calmed down. Five minutes later, she was back to her old self.

"This never leaves this room, okay?" Myka said to him, only half teasing.

"Of course." He smiled at her. "Now how about we move this closet?"

"I didn't need the closet moving. It's fine where it is. I needed your comfort." She smiled shyly up at him.

"Let's go and get breakfast, then." Pete jumped up in eager anticipation for his pancakes. He offered his arm to Myka, and together the descended the stairs.

"Where have you two been?" Artie asked them as soon as they sat down, Pete keeping his arm resting comfortingly on Myka's back.

"Taking a shower."

"Looking for Myka." They answered simultaneously.

"Right, well, I assume you've heard of the computer failure?" Artie asked.

"No," Myka replied before Pete could answer.

"I have," said Pete, risking a sideways, smug glance at Myka. She scowled at him. "Me and Claud were talking about it this morning. She's psyched, it might mean we get to have another update, which could also mean 'Doug' Fargo coming back..." He nudged Myka, who rolled her eyes, but smiled nevertheless.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," Artie grumbled.

"Dude, what do you have against the guy?" Claudia questioned, coming back into the room.

"I have nothing "against" him, Claudia," Artie huffed. "I just don't understand what makes him so special. We don't need those hi-tech updates, you are easily capable of fixing it yourself." Claudia's face lit up with pride, and Myka felt a rush of satisfaction. The old man hardly ever gave praise, and to see him so obviously doing this to the young woman made Myka's heart burst. Artie, however, looked uncomfortable.

"Yes... Well... Thanks to the computer failure, we are relying on Mrs. Frederic to tell us when there was any artifact disturbance, and she replied this morning saying there was, in Connecticut. Here," Artie passed them files.

"It says here that the artifact hasn't been identified," Myka noted.

"How are we supposed to find it?" Pete added.

"It's not going to be as hard as it looks." Artie said. "You will literally follow a path of destruction. The artifact feeds off negative energy, building it all together to eventually create fire, a fire so strong and powerful that no substance we've tried yet can put it out. As a result, the area the artefact is currently situated in has become a sort of ghost town." He finished, watching the two agents look at him like he was mad.

"Isn't this mission, like, too dangerous?" Pete asked.

"We could die, Artie." There was a catch in Myka's voice that Artie assumed was because of Sam's death in Denver, but Pete knew better.

"You're safe with me, I promised upstairs," Pete whispered in Myka's ear, too low for Artie to catch what was said.

"Back to the mission..." Artie cleared his throat. The agents looked sheepish. "You'll be catching the next flight, which leaves in," He glanced at his watch, "fifty minutes. Get packing." Artie stood up, which was obviously a dismissal. Pete and Myka passed the files back to Artie, and went back upstairs. Halfway up, Pete stopped.

"Dang it," he moaned.

"What?" Myka asked. Already knowing the answer.

"My pancakes!" Pete exclaimed.

"Claudia ate them," Myka giggled. Pete scowled and shoved her, which, as they were stood on the stairs, resulted in Myka falling backwards. Pete caught her as she fell, pulling her up to stand so their faces were mere inches away from each other. Myka was breathing heavily, and trying not to show how much that had scared her. Pete wasn't fooled.

"Sorry," he apologised. Myka said nothing, just looked up at him with her doe eyes, and Pete felt instant regret. This wasn't helping the situation with the nightmare.

"Children, stop playing on the stairs!" Artie shouted from somewhere in the B&B. His shout broke the tension, and the two agents resolved once again into a fit of giggles and continued up the stairs.