I'd like to preface this story a little bit before we get started. I was slightly disappointed with how the series finished up, so I thought I would write what I had been wanting to see in the final season. I have plans to keep this story running for quite some time, with turbulence and angst and love and snark. It will be written Game of Thrones style; each chapter will follow a different character. It is a WIP at the moment, but I would love to hear from you guys as I go along. I plan on posting a new chapter once a week, every Thursday, if possible. Alright, without further ado, here we go.

1997

Special Agent Jack Deakin watched as the setting unfolded in slow motion. The cake on the picnic table suddenly exploded in a shower of pink and purple frosting as the birthday party erupted into a brightly painted crime scene. His feet were rooted in place as lovingly wrapped boxes went flying, chunks of sod and soil kicked up from the ground, and a sparkling trick candle bounced off his chest.

"Daddy!"

Time fast forwarded as his brain registered the events playing out in front of him. He frantically searched the small yard until he saw a flash of blond pigtail as it disappeared behind the table. Scanning the skies, he spotted a man hovering above everyone's heads with his arms spread wide like an over sized marionette puppet. He met Jack's gaze with eyes wide in a manic trance as crackling red energy spread up his arms from two tightly banded cuffs on both of his wrists. When the field of energy reached the man's shoulders, he thrust his arms forward, pouring crimson lightning from his fingertips. The man began to seize in mid-air, sending the lightning dancing in every direction before he plummeted to the ground. As the man crashed into the rose bushes that framed the modestly sized house, Jack's feet finally broke from the grass, allowing him to approach the too quiet picnic table. Heart clenched, he slowly made his way around the splintered table, chanting to himself everything is okay, everything is fine, she is okay, she is fine, why is she so quiet, oh god, no -

He nearly collapsed at the sight of her lying there in the grass, almost serene as if she was merely sleeping. His throat closed, and suddenly the world was blurry as he struggled to breathe. Dropping to his knees, Jack carefully gathered the tiny girl into his lap and brushed the stray hair away from her forehead.

"It's okay, Daddy's here now," he whispered as he cradled her in his arms.

"Jack..."

Looking up at the man he called his partner standing in the yard's gate, surveying the backyard with his Tesla gun drawn and a horrified expression on his face. He remembered when he introduced her to his partner, whom she promptly declared to be her Uncle Artie, much to his distaste. She had been so delighted when he showed her the Warehouse and all of its' endless wonder. Her little nose had scrunched in seriousness when she promised she wouldn't tell anyone about the Warehouse, extending her pinky to lock with his own to seal the deal. He had carried her out to the car, much as he was now, after she had succumbed to exhaustion. He had tucked her into her big girl bed and kissed her goodnight when she had thanked him for taking her to the Warehouse that had smelled of apples.

2014

The days following the memory share around the Round Table soon turned to weeks, and then to months as Pete, Myka, Claudia, Steve, and Artie fell back into their routines within the Warehouse.

Mrs. Frederick began spending more time with Claudia as she focused on shaping the young woman into Caretaker material. When their time was spent within the walls of the Warehouse, Steve joined them as he explored his role sorting both the artifacts waiting to be inventoried, and new artifacts as they were collected. Their time together solidified their partnership not only as agents, but as integral pieces of the Warehouse 13 puzzle.

Pete and Myka's relationship proceeded to bloom in the way all new couples begin; whispered laughter when they should be paying attention, stolen glances when they thought no one was looking, and hastily smoothing clothing when caught.

Artie continued his role as disgruntled father figure to his team, but would earnestly deny having ever shown his soft side to anyone.

Even the Warehouse itself seemed grateful of its' agents efforts to keep it firmly rooted in South Dakota, for the time being anyhow. Apples were occasionally found throughout the shelves, and Claudia was only zapped during her lessons with Mrs. F. when she needed a nudge of guidance. As a result of the structure expanding the previous year, the balls of static electricity that were known to bounce among the artifacts had greatly reduced in number. The Pete Cave was continuously stocked with everyone's favorite snacks without Claudia having to sneak in to refill the mini fridge. The Warehouse collected its' band of misfit agents, and had provided a home, and a purpose, for each and every one of them.