I do Not own Warehouse 13.
~Chapter 2~
"So who are you secret Santa for?" Claudia asked, sitting in the passenger's seat of Artie's red, mid-life crisis car.
"What? O, um, Myka."
"So what'd you get her?"
"A book."
"Okay," Claudia smiled at his lack of enthusiasm, "care to elaborate?"
"Uh, just a book I had in my library. It's called Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand."
"Huh."
"'Huh'? What does that mean? 'Huh'?"
"What? O nothing."
"No, that wasn't a nothing 'huh.' That was a something 'huh.' You don't think she'll like it?"
"O no, I think she'll love it… it's just, well, I didn't peg you as the Ayn Rand type. I was thinking more Sir Arthur Conan Doyle," Claudia paused while they got out of the car as they reached the warehouse, "you know, Sherlock Holmes? And steampunkish or mystery genre?"
Artie opened the outer door of the warehouse and entered the newly redone umbilicus that he was still a bit nervous about, considering he recently was blown up by it.
Artie glared at the girl before stopping to scan his eye, "Yes, I know who Sherlock Holmes is and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for that matter. In fact, I think Doyle's pipe is in the warehouse." The inner door unlocked and as he opened it he continued, "And besides, just because my life revolves around old-fangled technology and mysteries doesn't mean I spend my free time reading about it."
He walked over to his desk and set his bag on top of it. Claudia followed a few paces back, "ok, ok, fine. I just assumed-"
"Yea, you know what you do when you assume? You make an ass out of you and me."
Claudia raised an eyebrow but resisted commenting on that little note. She merely turned around and walked over to her desk. She sat down and started clicking away on the keyboard, not really searching for anything, given that Pete and Myka already knew what they were looking for.
Artie also sat down on his out of place, sleek, plastic chair and turned toward his computer. Sitting on his keyboard was a small box, about the size a watch would come in. It was neatly wrapped in red Christmas paper with white ribbon tied around it. There was no note or card. He picked it up, it was rather light, and turned to Claudia, "Secret Santa?"
She turned around and shrugged. "Don't look at me. I got Pete."
Artie took one more glance at the gift and then placed it in his oversized bag.
"Why don't you open it?" Claudia asked, noticing his lack of Christmas spirit.
He turned back to his computer. "More important things."
Claudia stared at her mentor's back, wondering if the 'more important thing' was the Santa hat that had Pete and Myka currently flying into another state or something much worse, James MacPherson.
After a few hours of random searching by Claudia, some secret effort in tracking MacPherson, and, besides the clicking of keys, otherwise silent work, she turned to Artie and asked what was always on the back of her mind.
"Artie, do you think I'll be in charge of the warehouse in the future? I mean, like, I'm sure Mrs. Frederick will still be glaring at everything I do, but when you retire, if you retire, and Pete and Myka finally get together and leave the warehouse to have a family, do you think I would stay and be, well, you?" It was a somewhat silly question that she never really planned on asking anyone but she figured it might stimulate, or shock, a response out of a recently mute Artie.
"Sure."
"Um, okay." Claudia turned back to her computer. That was not what she was expecting. There was no emotion in his response. He didn't chuckle at the ridiculous question nor glare at her for the same reason. In fact, Claudia wasn't even sure he heard the question. So she tried again. This time she pushed herself off of the desk, moving her wheeled chair toward the older man.
She stopped herself when she reached his side of the office, "Hey, geezer, I'm serious. Do you think I'll be here forever?" Claudia was sitting next to Artie, staring at him. Yet he barely glanced her way, keeping his focus on the screen in front of him.
"I dunno Claudia. Maybe. I'm busy. Aren't you supposed to be helping Pete and Myka?"
"Uh, right, they already know what to look for and they haven't called asking for help in the past two hours. Not much I can do." Artie still didn't look at Claudia when she spoke. So she moved closer to him to get a better look at his screen. "Now, what are you doing, old man? Some last minute Christmas shopping?"
On his screen was the all too familiar security feed of the bronze section from the day MacPherson escaped. Claudia watched once again as Leena, in disguise, fiddled with the controls and moments later James MacPherson stepped free from his bonds. Claudia watched herself turn to the camera and wave sheepishly before she looked at her mentor. His eyes were narrowed, concentrating on every move, as if this time all the answers and reasons would pop out from behind the crates and reveal themselves. Claudia moved back to her desk without a word and joined the search, it was the least she could do. No matter what Mrs. Frederick said or did, Artie was still obsessed with finding his former partner.
After a few more hours of unsuccessful searching, Claudia noticed it was after midnight. "Merry Christmas geezer." She smiled hoping to lighten up the somber mood.
Artie tore his eyes from the computer long enough to glance at his watch. "What? O, uh, Merry Christmas Claudia," he said absent mindedly.
Claudia continued to look at the back of her mentor. Artie sighed and rubbed his eyes, "You know what? Let's just- let's call it a night."
Claudia's brow furrowed, "really?"
With one look back at his computer screen he stood up, "yea." He picked up his black bag and ushered the teenager out of the office, "Well, you know, it is Christmas."
Claudia smiled. "Now you are speaking my language."
***
Artie had gotten in touch with Pete and Myka via the Farnsworth when he arrived at the Bed and Breakfast. They snagged and bagged the hat, and were on the next flight home. Unfortunately, the next flight wasn't until early next morning. He and Claudia headed up to their beds after grabbing a midnight snack.
"See ya in the morning, geezer." Claudia said to Artie through her yawn.
Artie paused in the threshold of his doorway and turned to the teenager. She also paused in front of her door, waiting for him to reply. He chuckled and just said "Night, Claudia," before entering his room and closing the door.
He set his bag on the end table and went to his bathroom to get ready to sleep. When he came out he noticed his bag had toppled off table and fell open sometime during his preparation. He went to set it right and noticed the small red present had fallen out. Artie sighed as he picked it up and sat on the end of his bed. He hesitated, wondering who his secret Santa was, and then began to tear off the wrapping.
Artie now held a small wooden box with hand-carved designs on it. Inside was a small blue, metal, butterfly. Artie scoffed at the small piece, and thought to himself, is must be Pete. He would think it was funny, especially since Artie hadn't asked for anything and he was sure Pete had no clue what to get him. He picked up the butterfly between his thumb and forefinger and set down the box. For some reason, while he fiddled with his present, his mind went to the rest of the team and Claudia's predictions. Pete and Myka were probably fast asleep in a hotel room back in Akron. He thought for a second what would come of their partnership, and decided to make sure that thought stayed for only a second before he thought of his own future. Would his obsession with finding James lead to his death? Or will he remain at the warehouse until it consumes him? A few minutes and many ever increasing depressing thoughts later, Artie laid back onto his pillow. After another second, he thought about Claudia. What she would look like in twenty or thirty years, if she would be the next him or if she would find a nice boy and leave all of this behind. Artie set the butterfly on his night stand, followed by his glasses and turned over, falling instantly asleep.
***
Artie awoke with a start. He looked at his bedside clock; it read 11:03am. Artie jumped out of bed and got dressed, trying to remember the last time he slept so late. He threw on his favorite brown jacket, picked up his bag and with a last minute thought to tease Pete about the present, he dropped the butterfly into his pocket and walked out the door.
"Freeze! Don't move!"