Disclaimer: Warehouse 13, its characters, story and all that jazz obviously do not belong to me, even though I love them as they were my children.
Author's note: This is the first time ever I write a story in English (I'm Italian) so please be good to me, at least I tried. Anyway, I wanted to write a Christmas story for my wonderful girlfriend and here it is, I hope you like it. Merry Christmas darling.
It was Christmas morning and the B&B was still strangely silent. When Myka opened the door of her room she expected to hear noises of wrapping paper and Pete's loud complaints about her being a party ruiner for waking up after eight. But nothing came from the stairs and she could hear no noise at all. That was strange. Maybe everybody was still asleep, she thought walking to Pete's door only to find it half open and revealing nothing but an empty and messy room. Strange indeed.
Without thinking she walked to Helena's door. It had become a sort of habit after they had taken everything back to normal, to delicately knock on the inventor's door every morning just to enjoy her company for the few seconds it took from upstairs to the breakfast table. After such a long time away from the charming woman Myka had found herself seeking her presence in every possible way. Claudia had mocked her for it singing some stupid song about her and HG sitting on a tree, but she had decided she wasn't going there, not after what Artie had said had happened before the whole astrolabe thing. She enjoyed being with her. And talking to her. And maybe the perfume of her hair when she fell asleep leaning on her shoulder on the sofa while watching a movie with the others. But that didn't mean anything. Didn't it?
She was about to knock on Helena's door when something caught her eyes. Something bright yellow was stick on the wood: a post-it. On it she immediately recognized Helena's elegant handwriting.
Good morning darling. I will be waiting for you downstairs.
Myka smiled heading to the stairs. On the handrail another post-it.
Follow me
Helena had re-read Alice in Wonderland recently. But what was she up to?
When she arrived in the living room the fire was shining brightly in the fireplace, but the room was empty and silent as the rest of the house. On the headboard of the sofa she spotted another little pice of yellow paper.
Under the tree
Only now she saw that under the Christmas tree a multitude of gifts were neatly waiting to be opened and on one of them, a book-shaped package wrapped in brown paper, was just another post-it.
This is my present for you. Would you open it with me?
Another smile appeared on her face without her consent, making her feel stupid and happy at the same time for this little scavenger hunt and the sheer excitement of unwrapping a gift. From HG Wells. That still sounded rather strange to her.
She got up from the base of the tree and walked toward the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked cookies told her the others were there not long ago. Now the room was empty but for the lithe form of the inventor leaning on the window frame, arms crossed and a small smile on her lips.
"You found me, darling"
"You should stop watching that show, you know?" Myka laughed at the phrase Helena had started to use with her way too often after Claudia made her watch that cheesy show about fairytale characters .
"But you did, darling."
Myka couldn't stop the smile on her face. She was amazed by how well Helena had adapted to their time, enjoying the beauties of modernity, that's how Claudia called television shows and video games, perhaps more than herself.
"May I open my present now?" she asked trying not to sound so excited about it and reaching the other woman near the window. Outside the backyard was covered in snow.
"You may."
Myka studied the package in her hands: she was almost sure of she was going to find under the wrapping paper, after all it was always a safe bet to give her books, but still she couldn't wait to open it.
What she found inside slightly surprised her, because yes, it was definitely a book, but no title was printed on the fabric cover. She opened it to the first page, so brightly white it looked like it was printed the day before. Only after reading the few lines written on the right of the page, she understood.
To the bravest woman
I have nothing to give to you but a story, my story. Our story.
May it not end after the last page.
Slowly Myka turned the front page, tears already fogging her eyes. And there, in the middle of the paper, was the title.
Forever destined to meet at gunpoint
She looked at Helena, who was still leaning on the window watching her with loving eyes.
"You wrote your story? For me?" Myka said stunned
"There is a lot of you in it, but yes, I did." Helena answered with a smirk.
Myka turned bright red.
"Thank you Helena. I don't know what to say, you wrote a novel for me! HG Wells wrote a novel with me in it! I cannot-" she was suddenly stopped by Helena's gentle finger silencing her lips.
"You're blabbering darling" she smiled, her hands now gently stroking Myka's cheeks.
"I just... Helena I will never thank you enough for this, my inner fangirl is screaming so loud I can't even be ashamed of it."
"I do not know what you mean but I believe there is a way you could thank me..." said Helena with a mischievous grin.
The agent turned a brighter shade of red.
"What are you talking about?"
Helena just pointed at the window frame above their head. Mistletoe.
Myka gulped. That was Claudia's fault, obviously. And she was going to give her a piece of her mind for that later. But it wasn't Claudia's fault the way Helena's pale skin glowed in the brightness of the snow outside, or the way her hair fell like silk on the dark green cardigan. And for once it wasn't Claudia's fault (since the original mistletoe was not around this year) the unbearable pull she felt toward the inventor that made her reach for her and press their lips together.
The kiss was soft and chaste and way too short and when they parted Myka found herself out of breath and of words. She just wanted more.
They looked at each other for a long while, at a loss of words. Then Helena kissed her again, wrapping the younger woman in her arms. This kiss lasted a little longer, filling Myka's nostrils with the sweet scent of shampoo and cookies and the aroma of pine wood in the fireplace.
After a few minutes and more than a few kisses they were shaken by the sound of the bells from the nearby church: it was already nine.
"Helena- Myka asked with a dreamy voice- where are the others?"
A wicked smile bloomed on the inventor's face.
"I might have said I was trying to improve the decorations to surprise you and they decided to have breakfast somewhere else..."
"So you planned this whole thing! The gift, the mistletoe! You are a sly woman Wells!"
Helena laughed and reached for Myka's lips once more, leaving a quick peck between the giggles.
"Merry Christmas, darling."