What you've been waiting for...


Chapter One

Rivulets of red sluiced down pale legs and drained from sight. Hard won battles were the messiest but a victory was a victory. War continued to rage, but with one less general in her way, the heir's tender flank was open and vulnerable. Her deviation, no matter how ill-conceived, could only pave the way for the future, to make the road easier.

With the last signs of a fight washed from her body, she dressed and gathered her belongings and her wits; an entirely different battle awaited her at home. With the intention of protecting those she loved most, she'd left on a whim, acting on anger and fear and displaying a rashness of thought that she'd spent years taming. She recalled screamed accusations; the bitter words of a neglected loved one thrown in anger. But she wasn't unfeeling or unaware of the lives of others. She didn't think herself more important. In the face of these words, she had needed to prove that she was more than the Warehouse's trained attack dog. Having sacrificed for her family and for her siblings before, she would continue to do so because she was the champion and they should be free to live their lives away from her burden.

The journey back to Colorado was long and accompanied by a twisting anxiety in her gut that grew steadily as she got closer to home. Thomas greeted her on the threshold of her parents' house and pulled her into a hug. She welcomed the gesture for a moment, finding comfort in his familiar scent, until she realised that he was trembling. She pushed him back to stare into grief-stricken blue.

"No..." she whispered in a tone filled with dread.

Seeing nothing in his eyes that would comfort her, she pushed passed her lover, scurried into the house and followed the sound of sobbing up the stairs. Strong hands grabbed her in the doorway of a bedroom, many voices tried to halt her scrambling panic but she still managed to see into the room. Catching sight of a sheet-covered body, her knees gave out, a cry tore from her throat and she collapsed into the person holding her...

A sudden wobbling of her bed dragged Christina from her sleep and she opened her eyes to look into a face of fur. "Spyder," she grumbled at the unexpected awakening before the brief irritation gave way to relief and she reached down to run her fingers through black fur. A nightmare, she thought as she recognised the pounding of her heart. Try as she might to recall the dream, it slipped immediately from her grasp and she settled for allowing the feline's presence to calm the strange sense of grief and foreboding that lingered in her mind.

"What are you doing, huh?" she whispered to the animal in the pre-dawn light. "Did Cat let you out of your room again?" He purred against her hand as he walked in circles over her chest. Not wanting to return to sleep, Christina gently shooed her visitor away and slid from her bed.

She took a moment to stretch and let her eyes wander around the room. No more the clutter of stuffed friends and half-finished craft projects; all replaced by adult trappings instead. No toy chest or doll house; Catherine had inherited those. Her laptop sat open on the desk, her latest research haphazardly organised beside it – vestiges of her brief attempt to study while back with her parents for the weekend. The rest of the room remained untouched – a freeze-frame of a time when this had been her one and only residence.

At twenty-three her life was split between her parents' house and her college campus. Both felt like home these days. After graduating high school and a year spent with Claudia at her island headquarters, she'd returned to Boulder to study history and she was two semesters away from exchanging her bachelor's for a doctorate.

It was perhaps optimistic to think that there was a future for her beyond a destiny that could see the end to her life, but with despair as the alternative and warnings from her Mum's stories, she knew that hopelessness was not an option if she wanted to win. Having a long-term vision was part of her plan to hold tight to motivation.

Sensing the imminent distribution of food, Spyder trotted to the door he'd opened and hovered, awaiting the human's presence. Christina followed dutifully while gathering her wayward hair into a messy ponytail.

She put a tiny bit of food into his bowl, knowing that her sister would want to take care of his breakfast, and shut the door behind him, leaving him with access to the outside only. Catherine might like waking to having him curled around her head but their mum didn't like him having free access around the house. Since he had a perfectly comfortable bed, food, water and a cat-flap, a condition of his living with them was that he stays in his room at night. Catherine wasn't convinced that he had sufficient company though and sometimes decided that the rule didn't apply to holidays or weekends... or days ending with a 'y'.

When Spyder was once more locked away, Christina made her way to the kitchen and started the coffee machine. She filled it with enough water for two people (knowing that her Mama would be up before long) and wandered into the library. This was still her favourite room in her parents' house. When she was feeling out of sorts or just needed some quiet time, this was the one room in the house where everyone respected the 'calm zone' rule.

She plucked a book from a shelf and curled up in the armchair by the window. After kicking off her slippers, she pulled a blanket over her legs and opened The Railway Children. A good half an hour passed before she could shake the churning anxiety she'd woken with. The familiar, much loved characters and setting flitted back and forth in her imagination between insignificant wisps and almost corporeal forms. When she was finally there, standing on the tracks with Bobbie, watching that train bearing down on her, the effects of her dream dissipated entirely and she finally felt able to relax.

She wasn't sure when her attention drifted away from the book but by the time the door opened and Myka walked into the room with her own kick-start beverage, it was sitting in her lap, hanging loosely from her fingers. The catch closed softly behind her mother and she looked up with a fond smile.

"Morning, Ma," she greeted and watched as the curly-haired regent sank into the seat opposite her. Taking in the heaviness of the older woman's eyelids and other tell-tale signs of a late night, she chuckled to herself. "I take it Mum enjoyed her birthday?" she asked as innocently as she could manage.

Myka's gaze shot up from her coffee and she flushed and coughed. "It's not every day you turn fifty... Or one hundred and sixty-three." As she regained her composure, she levelled a frown at the young adult. "And, other than yesterday's party, I have no idea what you might be alluding to."

"Of course not," Christina agreed with a knowing smile. She smirked into the last dregs of cold coffee. "You might want to ask Mum to take it easy on your neck though," she added and laughed when the older woman reached a hand up to feel for the supposed contusion.

"That's not funny," Myka grumbled when she realised that she'd been had. Her frown didn't last long though as her daughter's amusement brought a smile to her own features. It was still strange to talk to her little girl about such topics, but nice too that Christina felt comfortable enough to broach conversations that had the potential to be embarrassing for the both of them. Myka's blush faded before long and her thoughts returned to the book she'd noticed as she entered. "Bad dream?" she asked gently.

Christina's smile fell incrementally and a frown replaced it. "Maybe. I don't remember what it was about but..." She shivered. "I wasn't disappointed when Spyder woke me up."

Knowing that her youngest had used Helena's distraction as an excuse to sneak the cat into the house, at that tid-bit of extra information, the regent almost rolled her eyes. Her more pressing concern however was her eldest's wellbeing. Nightmares happened to most people at various points in their lives and as a mother of three, Myka certainly wasn't a stranger to dealing with the night time fears of children, but she and her wife had particular concerns about the nature of Christina's unsettling dreams.

When Christina was much younger, the girl had occasionally woken in the night and crawled into her parents' bed, unable to shake the intense emotions but equally unable to recall the events depicted in her sleeping world. As she'd developed through puberty, the nightmares became more frequent and though she preferred at that point to sleep in her own bed, she usually asked one of her mothers to stay with her until she dropped off. They suspected that the nightmares were linked to her destiny and the future of the Warehouse, or else they were an unforeseen side effect of her journey home through the bronze, but as Christina seldom remembered any details, theories were all they had.

Growing into an adult, Christina had developed her own methods of dealing. The dreams had lessened in frequency and Myka had to trust that her daughter would ask for help if it was needed. "What time are you planning to set off?" she wondered aloud. "Do you have everything you need?"

These motherly questions brought a smile back to the young woman's face and she shook her head in amused disbelief. "Ma, I think I know how to organise myself." She paused as a flyaway thought came to mind and chuckled to herself. "Do you remember that weekend we spent doing nothing but making lists, labels and flow-charts? We had 'emergency-trip' competitions. It was like the Packing-Prep Olympics. We gave each other scores for best times, neatest bags and efficiency!"

Myka laughed. "I remember Freddy and your mother weren't quite sure what to make of us, and Catherine pulled a bag of toiletries on her head." She wiped a tear from her eye and finished her coffee. "You can't blame me for wanting to check on you. You're growing up too fast." She sighed. "My baby's in her last year of college."

Christina smiled shyly. "I'm only down the road, Ma," she reminded her mother. "I see you almost every weekend."

"Hmm, for now," the regent murmured, sounding sceptical. "Until your social life kicks off again. You take after Helena that way."

"Maybe, but I've grown tired of the student parties. I want to focus more on my studies this year. I have a lot of work to do if I'm going to graduate with honours. It's not going to be easy," she explained, paused and then quickly added, "And Thomas suggested that we could spend more time here... as a couple."

At this, the regent nodded and released a long breath. "So your Mum will have no choice but to get to know him better. He's brave, I'll give him that."

"I'm a grown woman. She can't avoid that fact forever," Christina insisted, though there was a hint of doubt behind her words.

"Never underestimate a mother's capacity for denial when it comes to her children," Myka teased. "She doesn't dislike Thomas, Sweetheart. You know that, don't you? Just give her time to come round to the idea that he didn't corrupt you. You remember how stubborn my mother was with my choice of life partner?"

"He's not that much older than me," the young adult protested.

"Not now perhaps," the mother conceded. "But when you were barely fifteen and he was going on nineteen, it seemed like a much bigger gap."

Christina rolled her eyes. "Addy had bigger crush on him than I did, and he wasn't interested in me for ages," she argued.

"Different perspectives," Myka continued. "She'll come around. She's just trying to figure out how to like him without wanting to knock him out and threaten his manhood."

This time, when Christina shook her head, it was with fond exasperation. "I imagine that when Catherine starts dating, Mum'll think Thomas is an angel." She smiled in sympathy. "I'll look forward to saying 'I told you so'."

"We'll see," the regent commented before changing the subject. "Are you working at the shop this Saturday?"

Since Warren had reluctantly retired (for real this time) and passed the bookshop ownership on to Myka, the regent had been working there a couple of mornings a week, alternating with Helena, and Christina had been spending her Saturdays earning some extra money (and a few admirers among the locals). The rest of the week, Myka had hired Jason to manage the business and any other employees that he felt they needed. As an enterprise that had been barely ticking over, in a world where the written word had been vastly digitalised, Myka managed to find a foothold and had made something of a name for herself in the re-mastered bookshop. Bering and Wells Books was well known for its supply of rare and obscure texts, and they'd had to buy extra storage space for all of the online orders they now handled.

Christina nodded. "Just for the morning. Jason suggested that I could take on some accounting if I have any spare time but wants me to focus more on my studies." She glanced suspiciously at her mother. "That wouldn't be your influence, would it?"

Myka feigned surprise, a hand held comically against her chest. "Would I do that?" Her eldest gave her a very Helenaesque eye roll, which made her chuckle. "I know you enjoy being in the shop, but you need balance and you already said that you want more time to study."

"Which is why I'm giving up on the after-hours parties," the student reiterated.

"Well, then spend more free time with Thomas, or your friends and family." Myka sighed. Her daughter was driven and she wanted to make sure that the young woman took time to enjoy herself. "Promise you won't just work all the time. You know you have nothing to prove to us."

Hearing the carefully controlled emotion in her mother's voice, Christina rose from her seat and perched on the arm of the regent's chair. "Ma... I'm not going to waste my life living like I have all the time in the world, but neither am I going to live like tomorrow is my last day. You worry about me... and Freddy and Cat... about what will happen in the future, but we have to just get on with life until then." She placed a kiss on top of a mass of still-dark, but steadily-greying curls and let her words sink in for a moment. "Besides, while I may have grown tired of the wild parties, I still have fun. I'm still undefeated in shot-chess."

Myka snorted a short laugh. "You know that only makes me worry for a different reason."

The young adult collapsed back into her own chair and waved a dismissive hand. "I never lose that many pieces!"

By the time the pair had finished comparing their nerdy college experiences, the rest of the house was stirring and they returned to the kitchen to start breakfast. While most days they took care of their own breakfast needs, Myka and Helena insisted on a family breakfast around the dining table at least once a week and with Christina having stayed overnight, getting together was even more important. It was easy for all of them to get lost in their own activities and the weekly tradition was there to ensure that they didn't completely lose touch with one another.

Catherine's careless footfalls hurried down the stairs first and she hovered inquisitively between her mother and sister, trying to snag pieces of cheese, tomato and mushroom before they went into the omelettes. Unbeknownst to each other, Christina and Myka both gave up morsels of food before directing the eleven-year-old to set the table.

Helena was next to make her way down, her light step barely heard on the stairs. As she entered the kitchen, Christina's first clue that she was there at all was the smile that Myka reserved especially for her wife. The inventor's arms immediately found their way around Myka's waist and there the couple swayed gently together, whispering to each other for several minutes while their meal took shape.

At last, Fredrick wandered dozily from his room and through the house - just in time to see the food arrive on the table. He slumped into his chair, grunted a squeaky 'thanks' and fell into his omelette like he hadn't eaten for a week. His mothers shared an amused look but otherwise left the teen alone. Teasing could wait until he was awake enough to appreciate it.

"Do you have any plans today, Fredrick?" HG asked as she finished her last mouthful of egg and began sipping at her tea. The teen shrugged and reached for a banana, shoving half of it in his mouth before beginning to speak (and deliberately ignoring his mother's raised brow). "Sophie wants to work on our project. I've done most of the outline. She wants to get on with the artwork. And I want to head to the pool later to put in some time before my next meet." He turned to his older sister as he finished his post-breakfast snack. "Is Tommy still free next Saturday? He said he could spend a couple of hours coaching me."

"Yes," Christina grinned at her brother, enjoying the reluctantly thoughtful expression on Helena's face. "He's looking forward to it."

"It's nice that the two of you get along, sweetie," Myka offered across the table and shared a conspiring wink with her eldest while squeezing her wife's knee beneath the table. "Do you mind if we come and watch? We'd like to see how you're getting along." She knew that Helena would be just as interested in seeing their son's progress and felt approval flow from the inventor as soon as the words left her mouth. That it offered an opportunity to see Thomas in a different light was merely a happy coincidence.

Waiting until her parents seemed engaged in conversation, Catherine emptied her plate, inched to the edge of her seat and tried to sneak away. She reached the door, slipped through and thought she was home free for a single, magical moment... Then she heard her name and her shoulders slumped. She stuck her head back through the door, her expression unassuming as she answered, "Yes, Mum?"

"Plates, please," HG instructed her youngest with a knowing expression. She watched as Catherine resigned to her task and began helping to clear the table. A smile twitched at the corner of her mouth and she began reaching for her own table-wear to hide her amusement. "Fredrick, help your sister please," she told the teen, who was surreptitiously glancing at his phone under the table. "And put that away. Now is not the time or place."

"I wish we had servants like you did in London," Catherine grumbled as she left the dining room with an armful of plates and cutlery clanking around. "We must have enough money."

"You have arms and legs, do you not?" Christina smirked at her sister as she followed her siblings (sans plates) into the kitchen. "Besides," she added teasingly, "it gets rather dull after a while, having people wait on you all day. In and out, constantly bringing you things and asking if you need anything else." She feigned a sigh of exasperation and perched herself at the kitchen island, watching the eleven-year-old for her reaction.

Catherine's face scrunched in thought as she imagined her sister laid out like a lady-muck, with servants coming and going, catering to her every whim. "That's not fair! Mum, did Chrissie really have her own servants?"

Helena shook her head at her eldest, came to stand behind her and squeezed her shoulders in just the right place to make her body fall in on itself.

A burst of startled laughter accompanied the young woman's sudden struggle for escape. "Ah-hahaha! Mum!"

"Of course not, dear," HG began patiently, even as she continued to torture her captive. Skilled hands found responsive nerves, buckling the young woman's limbs and eliciting a series of squeals that belonged to someone half Christina's age. "Uncle Charles had a house maid but she did not wait on your sister." Her fingers stilled now, allowing her daughter to recover her breath, instead reaching to soothe through dark curls. "She had chores, just as you do, flower. Even at my parents' or great-grandma Elle's, where there were a number of servants, much was expected of her and with none of your modern conveniences." She looked down into sheepish brown and her lips finally twitched into a smile. "Don't tease your sister, lest you're prepared for the consequences. You should at least make the ground even."

"That's no fun," Christina replied with a grin.

"But much more honourable," Myka added as she finished putting the last of the jars away and turned to join the conversation.

"Honour amongst rogues?" Freddy commented as he finished rinsing the last tumbler and emptied the soapy water from the sink. Deciding that he'd prefer not to be around if his younger sister took umbrage at the teasing, the teen retreated to the doorway. "Ma, may I go to Uncle Pete's now?"

"Yes," Myka answered her son as he disappeared from the kitchen. She heard his bare feet slapping against the wooden floorboards and called out to him before he reached the foot of the stairs. "Be back by five!"

Christina pushed herself off her stool and tucked it in. "I should get going too. I want to hit the library for a couple of hours..." She felt Myka's gaze on her and held up her hands in supplication. "Which will free up my evening so Thomas can take me to dinner," she finished, recalling their earlier conversation.

"Are you gonna get drunk and have a wild party?" Catherine asked as she threw her dishtowel to one side. "Have you ever been arrested?" Her excited curiosity held for a fraction of a second before she made another connection. "Wait! You said you'd help me with my homework!" she accused as her expression fell into a pout/scowl.

Sensing the impending argument brewing between their daughters, Helena and Myka reached out for each other, their thoughts and feelings passing more easily through the physical connection. By mutual desire, they decided to leave the girls to it and wait until they were needed – if they were needed. They left the kitchen and the bickering voices behind as they wandered across the entrance hall to the living room.

"Do you think our girls will ever just 'get along'?" Helena wondered as she sank into their favourite chair and pulled Myka's body against her own.

The taller regent chuckled as she kicked off her slippers and tucked her legs beneath her, the position pushing her naturally into her wife's embrace. She turned her head slightly and managed to kiss Helena's chin. "Honey, they're sisters. I think you're hoping for the impossible; you've seen Tracy and me when we're at our worst."

"How could I forget?" HG played with wayward curls and breathed in her wife's scent. She felt her insides clench at the memories that particular aroma evoked. Those from the night before were forefront in her mind. "We should simply send them into the woods and tell them not to return until they've sorted out their differences," she suggested, thinking of the area of forest that cushioned the boundary of their property; the area that was protected before the trees led into deeper wilderness.

Myka smirked. "This plan wouldn't have anything to do with last night's suggestion, would it?" she teased.

"Why is it that you continue to oppose me on the subject of re-christening the house?" the inventor complained as her fingers traced over a rounded shoulder.

"Perhaps because I don't want to permanently traumatise our children?" Myka answered, humour lacing her tone.

"Pfft!" HG scoffed before letting her lips fall to an inviting expanse of skin at the nape of her wife's neck. "Is that not what parents are for?"

Myka allowed her eyes to flutter shut while she enjoyed her lover's attentions. "You're incorrigible," she whispered in a tone that suggested that she didn't mind in the least. "Maybe once they've all moved out?" she suggested as her body responded to the inventor's touch and her mind warmed to the idea.

Helena groaned. "You do realise that you're suggesting we wait another decade?"

The younger woman turned in her wife's arms and smiled down at her. "Are you worried that you'll be past it by then?" She leant in to brush her lips against the shell of an ear as she added, "My old lady." She jerked back as fingertips found her ticklish sports and chuckled at dark eyes, which narrowed in warning. It was a look that never failed to spark heightened desire and she met the inventor's pout with her own lips, her kiss soothing any modicum of offense.

As often happened when they were left to their own devices, with nothing pressing on their schedules, the couple allowed themselves to get lost in each other's presence. While that didn't always involve kissing, embers of their recent lovemaking reignited, encouraging that lingering passion. The world fell away as Helena pulled Myka onto her lap and lost a hand amongst wild curls. At some point, they became aware of other people close by and the combined sounds of giggling and fake retching. Lips that were pliable and focussed became taught and they pulled into matching smiles. They parted slowly, neither regent finding a need to apologise for their adolescent behaviour.

Myka flicked her hair back as she turned her head to grin at her daughters. She made no effort to leave her wife's arms, but simply settled comfortably into willing arms as she felt Helena's fingers stroke lightly along the skin of her lower back. "Yes, girls?" she asked, inviting them to talk.

Catherine stood with her arms folded across her chest, one foot tapping the floor with comic disapproval. Behind the pre-teen, Christina hovered, her cheek caught between her teeth. "Don't you two have a room?" the eleven-year-old challenged her parents, the words recited verbatim from her Uncle Pete.

HG responded immediately, her grin mischievous. "We do indeed. You heard the girl, love. Upstairs!" Far from being offended or angered by Catherine's audacity, she took the suggestion on board and began to move, with Myka still in her arms.

Myka splayed a hand over Helena's face and pushed her gently but firmly back into the couch cushion, knowing that only her opposition would halt her wife when she was in this mood. "Stay," she instructed, while ignoring muffled protests. Her smile remained amused even as she kept her gaze on the two youngsters. "Did you sort out your argument?"

"I'm going to help her get started and come back next weekend to help her finish," Christina explained. "And next time, she's not going to wait until the last minute."

Cat pouted. "I did ask you on Friday," she complained. "And we had a party."

Christina shook her head with exasperation. "You had five hours yesterday afternoon to start your homework. I heard Mum asking you if you'd started it yet!" She shook her head again, looking down into her sister's hazel gaze. "Come on," she finally gave in, grousing as she led the way towards the stairs. "I haven't got much time."

Catherine grinned and jogged after her sister, her parents forgotten in the face of her victory. "We can be quick! I've got a great idea!"

With an increasingly serious expression falling over her features, Myka watched her children disappear from the room. Her thoughts meandered through a forest of concern and disapproval as she considered Catherine's behaviour and tried to come up with a practical solution. Her eyes drifted, gaze falling to the floor, forgetting where she was until teeth and lips wrapped around her middle finger and she was dragged back into the present.

"Hey!" she protested indignantly, turning to find amused brown gazing back at her.


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