Warehouse 13 fic: America's Junk Drawer, part 3 of the America's Most Dangerous Antiques Roadshow universe.
Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13 or any of the characters there with in.
Rating: T, (for now), language, violence and other stuffs.
Summary: Three years following their invitation into the warehouse, the new agents struggle fitting into this new world of "Endless Wonder".
Chapter One: The Truth Hurts
"The course of true love never did run smooth."
~William Shakespeare
Myka shifted in her chair uncomfortably. The large plush chair felt like it was trying to swallow her whole, and she couldn't stop herself from moving restlessly under the gaze of the older gentleman sitting across from her, studying her carefully as she jiggled her foot and tapped her fingers.
The room was cold, and Myka had shed her coat upon entering, so there was nothing to hide the Goosebumps that erupted and spread over her arms. The dim lighting in the small room kept her from getting a good look at any of the paintings on the wall, or any of the books in the shelves, so her eyes were forced to wander back to the therapist.
There was an absurdly loud ticking noise emanating from a rather small clock on the row of shelves to her left, it was a few seconds away from driving her mad, she didn't want to be the one to break the silence, though. She clenched her teeth against the tumult of words threatening to spill past her lips as she looked up once more.
"Hm," the man, Dr. Jack Wahrheit, gave Myka a curious look before writing something on his legal pad, "Alright, why don't you tell me what's bothering you, hm?"
"I've been nervous, lately," Myka was working not to reveal more than she had to, but it was difficult under his careful perception, "Not exactly nervous, but… I don't know off kilter somehow?"
"What do you mean off kilter?" the doctor tilted his head.
"Like the world is not in order, I shouldn't be where I am." Myka chewed on her lip, avoiding eye contact with Wahrheit, "The world has made a mistake somewhere."
"Can you tell me something that you believe is a mistake made by the universe?" he challenged.
"Well, let's see, I'm dating a woman who is so gorgeous, it's intimidating. Not to mention the fact that she's absolutely brilliant, she's finishing up her doctorate. I mean, I never thought I would be the idiot in the relationship. As if that wasn't enough, she's absolutely loaded, not because she's a trust fund kid or some such nonsense, no she's making thousands of dollars a day off of her inventions. It's just…" Myka trailed off, tracing her finger over the patterns on the couch.
"Intimidating?" The man sitting opposite her supplied with a small smile, "And you think the world has made the mistake of creating this relationship?"
Myka bit her lip and nodded, "I can't help but feel inferior to everything she does. And, even worse, that at any minute she's going to realize that I'm just… me. Working a government job that barely pays for my room at this little bed and breakfast, with absolutely nothing to offer her. And there are all these guys and girls just waiting for her to come to her senses. Often I think that if it weren't for her kid…" Myka trailed off with a pained expression on her face, her eyebrows scrunching together.
"Your girlfriend has a child? From a previous relationship?" he tapped his pen thoughtfully on his white mustache before writing something in the little notepad in his hand, "How old is she?"
"Seven… well, she'll be eight this summer." Myka corrected herself automatically, she could practically hear Christina's insistence that seven and three quarters was practically eight- and therefore she deserved a later bed time.
"And is the father in the child's life?" The therapist crossed his legs as he watched Myka's expressions carefully.
"Yes." She bit out between tightly clenched teeth.
"Does it bother you?" he pushed, leaning forward.
"Not as much as it used to," she breathed.
"Let's get back to you, what is it you do for a living? You said you had a government job?"
"I'm an assets collector," Myka bit down on the inside of her cheek, looking out the window at the over cast skies giving the whole town a gloomy feel, "It takes me away from home at least once a week."
"Do you think that's a contributing factor to the strain on your relationship with your girlfriend?" his watery brown eyes squinted at Myka.
"It certainly has caused some strife in the past." She mumbled, pulling on the ends of her hair.
"Just how long have you and your girlfriend been together, Ms. Bering?" he looked over his page and a half of notes on his new patient.
"Three and a half years, and we've been living together nearly the entire time,"
"You two got an apartment together then?" he began writing once more.
"Yes," she nodded, "Well no. I moved into her apartment before we moved out here for work. But it wasn't that big of a deal, it was right across the way from mine."
"So you gave up your apartment to live in hers, interesting," he nodded, "And this bed and breakfast you are currently staying in, you two share a room, yes?"
"Yeah," but there was a tug that had Myka correcting herself once more, "Well, no, we each have our own rooms, but we usually stay in each other's room anyhow."
"I see, and is that your room or hers that you tend to share most often?" the therapist crossed his arms over his chest.
"Hers." Myka's voice was quiet. She hadn't ever thought much on it before, but now…
"Ms. Bering, how is your relationship with your family?" he switched topics without preamble.
"Okay, now." Myka nodded, relieved.
"Now? Was it not always?" he grasped.
"No," Myka lifted her shoulder and tilted her head, "My mom and I had some trouble for a little while when I first started dating Helena, and my dad and I haven't always had the easiest relationship. They always seemed to get on better with my little sister."
"And just how is your "little" sister fairing these days?" the therapist quirked his eyebrow.
"She's great. She has a little girl, Clair. She's turning three in May. Her and her husband have just bought a house, I was supposed to fly out to see them, but…" Myka found herself trailing off once more.
"Are you jealous of your sister?" he crossed his arms.
"What? No," Myka put her hands up, "She's in a commited relationship with someone she loves, and she has a beautiful baby girl and a new house… I'm happy for Tracy. I'm happy for everyone in my life."
"You're friends have fared well, I take it?"
"I suppose," Myka allowed, focusing for a moment on her shoes, "My best friend Pete and his girlfriend are making the whole long distance relationship thing work since they both travel for work. They see each other a few days out of the month, but I can tell they are happy. Claudia, who is too smart for her own good, she's finally reconnecting with her long lost brother, and that's going well for her… And don't get me started on Steve, who's been having this on again off again relationship with a doctor from his home town." Myka cut herself off with a nervous chuckle.
"Alright, Ms. Bering, our time is almost up, so I'm going to be blunt," he dropped his notepad onto the coffee table, "This fear of abandonment and feelings of inadequacy you have stem from you allowing yourself to be put in relationships where you can be perceived as the lesser individual. My advice to you is to step up, demand more for yourself, otherwise, cut yourself out of these relationships. After all, you shouldn't allow yourself to be with someone who always makes you feel bad about yourself."
"Right, I'll keep that in mind," Myka rose from the couch, forcing herself to not run out of the room as fast as possible, she stuck her hand out, "Thank you, Dr. Wahrheit, you are a much better therapist than my usual doctor." The words stuck in her throat, and she fought the urge to choke them back by biting her lips.
He accepted her handshake, "You'll make your next appointment with my assistant then?"
Myka simply nodded, before turning and walking out of the office, then out of the building, not bothering to stop at the assistant's desk.
She was half way down the block her hands buried in her coat pockets when a tall man stepped out of the shadows and fell in to step beside her.
"So?" Pete drew out the word as he ducked his head to catch Myka's eye.
"Well, the artifact's definitely in there… I had to get creative with my truth telling." The taste of lies and half-truths was still thick on her tongue.
"So we go back in and search the place?" Pete suggested, trying to understand the feeling he was getting form his partner.
Swallowing the strange guilt Myka could feel bubbling in her chest, she nodded, "Yeah, let's check in with home first."
"Damn it!" Helena jerked her hand back from the machine as it sparked. The annoying buzzing sound coming from behind her caused her to touch the wrong wires together, and she had half a mind to emotionally ruin whomever had rung her on the Farnsworth. She purposely ignored the fact that all the wires were the same grey color, and she most likely would have touched the two wrong ones together anyhow… she was too irrational, too emotionally invested in her little project.
She dropped the pliers into her tool bag before grabbing the communications device off the stool. She glanced around before sighing, giving into her paranoia and walking a few isles down the warehouse before flipping open the Farnsworth.
"Helena," Myka's grainy black and white face appeared in the circular screen, a wide smile on her face.
All anger at being interrupted was gone, she hadn't seen her girlfriend in two days, and each phone call they'd had since she left to Washington for an artifact hunt had been cut short by some disaster or other.
"Myka," her name cause a wide smile to spread over her face, and she moved the goggles off her face, "Darling, how are you?"
"According to my therapist, I have issues with feeling inadequate," she smirked, "Oh and abandonment issues. Your girlfriend should probably see a therapist."
"I know a few," Helena offered with a smile, glancing quickly in the direction of the front office.
"Nah, it's all psychobabble bullshit," Myka waved it off, "How are things going back home?"
"As well as can be expected," Helena rolled her eyes, "Arthur is driving me up the wall, my partner is brooding over his latest cold front with Dr. Grant, Claudia is getting in trouble with the NSA for hacking some files 'just to see if she could do it,' and I swear I am going to need to get a harness and lead for Christina if I ever want to bring her to the Warehouse again."
Myka chuckled, "I'm sorry, babe. We should be wrapping up this case soon, but until I get home, ask Vanessa to distract Artie, tell Steve to take the weekend to see his boyfriend, ask Claudia to help you on whatever mysterious project you're working on now, and maybe do consider a leash for your daughter."
"Why is it she's only my daughter when she's misbehaving?" Helena challenged, but her smile was bright, talking to Myka always did have this effect on her. She expected it to lessen as the years passed, but it instead, her affection for the American only seemed to grow.
"Because she's only misbehaving when she's pretending to be like her mum." Myka laughed, but a word from Pete that Helena couldn't really decipher had her expression falling, "Pete's just got done talking to Claudia and catching Artie up, I've got to go."
"Alright, be safe, my love." Helena plead.
"Don't blow up anything we can't replace." Myka replied with a smile before the screen went dark.
Helena let out a heavy sigh as she closed the Farnsworth. She took her time strolling back to the aisle of the Warehouse that she had discovered a few months before while on inventory duty. A punishment from Artie for some grievance HG had already forgotten.
This particular aisle, among others HG was now certain, hadn't been on any map or report. She wasn't sure why, but now she didn't care. It meant no one would think to search here for her. At first the project had been because as she came to the end of her schooling, Helena was feeling less challenged. But after reading notebooks filled with musings and searching through the still sealed crates, HG was obsessed.
It was taking all she had to keep this little pet project of hers hidden, even from Myka.
She justified with telling herself that since Myka never asked what project was working on, she wasn't technically lying when keeping this from her.
She knew this line of reasoning was irrational, and couldn't continue for much longer. For now, though, she accepted it as she threw a tarp over her Frankensteined machine and made her way back up the aisles.