Chapter 2

A/N Chapters will be slower in update.

"Heartless bitch my ass," Myka mumbled as her fingers toyed at the edge of the envelope. "If anything..." Myka whispering as she watched the slow move of the letter opener blade slice open the scented letter. "I am the one putting it all out there. You just get to reap what I sow," her bottom lip entrapped between gleaming white teeth. Her lips quirking at the slight taste of copper as it rushed upon her tongue.

"Did she answer?" Myka jumping as Pete plopped down on the couch across from her. His legs crossing as he munched on a banana, his eyes never leaving hers as she dropped the envelope.

"Am I a heartless bitch because of…" her words dying in her throat as she side-eyed her ex.

"Because you whore out any new agent that is anywhere close to how you look?" Pete gulping down his last bite.

"Not funny, and a little due respect," Myka huffed as she tossed the half open letter to the edge of her desk.

"Look Mykes," Pete holding up his hand, frowning at the limp peel in his hand, "I get it, HG stole your heart and 'no other woman' compares. Like I am an idiot to go through that with you again," Pete shaking his head as he tossed the old peel into the tin garbage can. "Yes, Lattimer scores!" his arms jutting up as he made two point with his fingers.

"Why do I even bother?" Myka shaking her head as she tossed the open card his way.

"Beats me?" Pete scuffed as he read the letter, "Besides, Artie's scotches were the best. You and this no 'sugar' thing is a bummer," Pete mumbled as he scanned the letter. "Have you not read your own books?" his eyebrow raised as he scanned over the half eaten bowl of cookies in his lap.

"Have you?" Myka huffed as she caught the letter Pete tossed back her way.

"It's your story," he hummed as he bit into the cookie. "Add some pics and I might?"

Pete tossed his head back as he watched Amy march into the warehouse, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he smirked at Myka, "Another Ice age cometh?" his hands rubbing over his forearms.

"Asshole," Myka whispered under her breath. Her eyes then controlling the young agents in front of her, "A ping in the south of France," Myka was saying as she handed the thin file over to the young agent.

"Is this a bribe?" the sarcasm not lost on the older agent as Pete lunged forward, yanking the thin file out of the red-heads grasps.

"Agent Smith?" All eyes meeting with dark green, "If for one, brief moment you feel my assignments unjust because of the last field op?" Myka's fingers clinging in a tight grip as she held the thin file firm.

"None whatsoever, Agent Bering," Blue eyes steeling with an unsaid battle of green.

"I never slept with her," Amy leaning close as she gripped the file. "Maybe something you should have done years ago." Her lips brushing against the senior agent's ear. Myka dismissing the passive aggressive shock from the young agent as she lifted her finger, removing the small, moist layer left from Amy's lips off her ear.

"Pete!" Myka's words a rough sandpaper as she eyed her former partner. "A trip to Caen?"

"Yeah, whatever," he said as he jumped up, guiding the young agent to the umbilicus.

"Go, see her already," he whispered as he passed her ear, guiding the young agent out the door, smirking as he tossed the envelope on her desk. "Tell me, oh young Padawan," Pete smiling as he lead Amy out the door, "Have you ever tried a true croissant from the motherland?"

"Mind your own bee's wax," Myka mumbling, her head buried in a file, never raising an eye to the two as they exited the door.

"You should heed your own words," Myka jumping as the old caretaker appeared behind her.

"I forgot about that," Myka giving a nervous chuckle as she spun around, clutching at her heart.

"Have you reread your old books?" the eyebrow raised at her.

"And why should I?" Myka clamping the file shut as she turned around. "They are just fluff pulp books that bored, lonely housewife's eat up." shrugging her shoulders. "I had to have some type of release to sort things out. Taking extra care not to reveal any warehouse secrets." Myka said, eyes downcast at the mound of paperwork on her desk.

"Your life, her life, your life together?" the caretaker raising an eyebrow. The sting and anger coming out in a softer tone.

"Were you not the one that said Pete was in 'love' with me?" Myka mocking out the last of her words. "Some strange talk of children and what not?" Myka sitting back in Artie's old chair. "Tell me, how was that call?" eyes narrowing on a furrowed brow.

"Neither here nor there, the warehouse has joined your souls," Mrs .Frederic narrowing her eyes as she fingered the old statue on Myka's new desk.

"And how is retirement? The cabana boys serving you well?" Myka's eyes downcast as she went over the old paperwork, avoiding the implications of the caretaker's last words.

"Destiny is what binds you and Ms Wells, not you and Agent Lattimer"

"Stop being an arse," Myka responded, Mrs Frederic looking down at the new Artie as her fingers traced over the new 'pings'.

"And so she has the colorful words?" Myka halting her train of words as she gave an apologetic look at the old caretaker.

"The old guard has not forgotten," her face cracking as Claudia appeared before the both of them.

"Not my doing," Claudia raising her hands in surrender as she looked at Myka. "If not for Mrs. F, the warehouse would have taken HG," both women then looking at each other.

"Please, Ms. Donovan, carry on," the deflated look as the old caretaker, a few worn lines hinting at her face, reveled in the new caretakers.

"One way or another, HG would have been yours," the young girl smiling as she squeezed Myka's hand.

"She is not mine," Myka scoffed as she shuffled paperwork on her desk.

"And so the new assignment is dropped in my lap, because?"

"Pfffft, please, like you had a choice!" Claudia scoffed. "Your kids will be running the show as if you and HG had a choice …"

"Ms. Donovan!" Irene huffed as she grabbed the new caretaker. "The future and the Butterfly effects!" the old caretaker mumbled. "Timelines and knowledge of the future?" Mrs Frederic hissed under her breath.

"What kids? What the hell are you two going on about? Helena made her choice," Myka's eyes drifting to the far wall of the small office, the old map of the horn of Jericho still hanging up from long ago. "The last time we were a team," Myka sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "She prefers models named after wild African antelopes and what not. Not some bureaucrat with gray hair and sagging tits."

"Yeah, right! And you, Mykes, and your perky Tata's have not succumbed to the laws of gravity yet" the young caretaker trying to lighten the cold blast of regret filling the small office.

Claudia sing songed as the old caretaker dragged her along. Slapping her hands together, "Just make sure you do the …" blushing as the old caretaker glared at her,

"Just kiss HG silly next time you see her!"

"Not funny, Claudia." Myka mumbled as she printed out the plane tickets. Waiting till the last of the agents were near the door. "Agent Smith" Myka's voice pulling the agent back just outside the door.

"Her kiss?" Myka stuttering as she rubbed the back of her neck.

"Did you read her note." her fair-freckled skin turning crimson as she dropped her shoulders, her back turning to face the gruff agent back.;

"The great HG Wells, and all that she would mumble in her sleep, was your name." Amy sighed, tucking her ticket in her pocket.

"But she only has eyes for you, even after all the history," the young agent sighing as she walked out the door. Pete dropping his eyes as he spoke,

"Just read her card."

XXX

The whole flight, Myka had tapped the card against her leg, rebuffing the slight flirtations from the flight attendant with every offer to 'Top your drink' with a wink.

"Love letter?" the attendant giving a false smile as she passed one last time down the aisle.

"Not really," Myka giving a false smile over the plastic rim of her cup, giving a questionable look as the woman filled her cup.

"It's just," the woman looking over her shoulder, and then raising a finger up as she bent down under the cart. Myka watching with unease as her fingers toyed over the hidden Tesla on her hip. Then letting out an audible sigh as the woman placed the book on her lap, "I know it is against company policy, but, would you mind?" setting the pen down on the cover of the book.

Myka stared at the back cover, grumbling with her editor to release some form a picture for the back cover of her book.

"That one," Myka sighed as she looked at all the proofs she was forced to take early on after the success of her first novel. Horrid memories of posing as a model and the side effects of Man rays camera caused her to shutter. Her finger landing on the photo that was the least revealing. Her face, half hidden by a gray hoodie and a sheepish smile was her final choice.

"And to whom shall I address it?" Myka clicking the pen after setting her glass down on the tray in front of her, trying her best to repress the harsh roll of her eyes, a strained smile instead as she looked up at the woman.

"OMG! um...Roxy with a Y, if you don't mind, Ms. Freeman?" the attendant looking over her shoulder in all her nervousness. "Do they ever get together?" she whispered as she leaned down, grasping the book against her chest. "I mean Mary and Harriet? They were so made for each other,"

"You, along with my other readers will have to wait and see," Myka smiled, holding up her plastic cup, the ice cubes clinking as she rattled the plastic cup.

"Oh, right, sorry." the woman scrambling for the last mini bottle of whisky as the Captain started to announced that the plane would soon be landing.

"... All trays in their upright positions …" the attendant scrambling to hide the book, giving a curt wave over her shoulder as she readied for the decent.

"Never a dull moment," Myka mumbled under her breath as she disembarked the plane, moving quickly down the tunnel after the attendant had slipped her phone number in Myka's jacket, the overly friendly flight attendant helping as she struggled to get her carry on out from the overhead bin.

'Call me' she had mouthed, thumb and forefinger up to her ear as Myka slid by to the nearest exit.

"So much for writing under a pen name," Myka huffed as she finally opened the door to her hotel room, never one to forgo her routine after all these years as an agent; she neatly unpacked her things, folding cloths away, securing her laptop on the desk after smoothing over her jacket she placed over the chair next to it. But not before securing the room.

A long, hot shower was followed, her head cocking to one side as she dried her wet curls, wrapped in a towel, her eyes catching the edge of the envelope on the faux wooden dresser, screaming for her attention. She kept a few feet away, dressing in her old FBI T-shirt and comfy cotton shorts. After a few trips to the mini bar, the last drops drained from the cup she set on her nightstand, she slapped her bare thighs as she got up from the bed.

"Fine," she huffed as she leaned over, grabbing the last mini bottle of Vodka from the mini fridge, her other hand blindly groping at the envelope sitting on top. "Probably some etiquette, old Victorian words ..." her mouth stilling on the rim of the glass as she read the contents.

"Coffee?"

XXX

Myka, whether she wanted to know or not, was kept abridged of HG's location over the years by the Regents. More so since taking over Artie's old position at the warehouse. The first few years she argued with Claudia about sending a birthday salutation to Helena. "Why scrape open old wounds?" she would argue until Mrs. Frederic stepped down. Claudia feeling smug at asserting her will and the unchallenged authority as new caretaker.

"Ms. Donavan, it would do you wise to stay clear of affairs of the heart with agents." the older woman once spoke.

"Yeah, like the great job you did with Mykes and Pete!" both women trapped in a wills of blink those first few months. "Great little tea party you had with Myka, Mrs. F." Claudia would grumble. "I gooed the whole tea set thinking it was some artifact. I mean, how the he... Hades could you think Myka would want a kid, with Pete of all people? Myka had always said a kid did not define a woman."

Mrs. Frederic had sat back, nodding defeat at her words, "And that is why the torch is being passed to you. Seems some of my ideas are antiquated, Ms. Donovan." the old caretaker sighed. "But," her finger rose as to quite her successor, "Some things are destined. Never forget that."

"Like Pete and Mykes?" Claudia scuffed.

"The warehouse requires a strong belief in destiny. The waiver of hearts caused the slight thought of a new location. But remains dormant till all is resolved. Have faith, Ms. Donovan,"

Claudia sighed out a long frustration, sipping on the cold tea. "And what does that mean…" her blowing up a shock of red hair that had fallen over her eyes, the vanishing act from the old caretaker was now becoming as commonplace as her jumbled words of destiny and need for patients.

XXX

Myka's thumb hovered over the send button almost as many times as she sipped her drink, "What the hell," she finally whispered as she pressed the send button, then tossing her phone on the cold, empty side of the queen bed she was in. She had left the last gulp in the cup, padding her way to the bathroom, door open as she took her time flossing. Every moment a hair slow as she readied for bed, extra rinses with her face cloth. Double capping the toothpaste, a finger lingering on the light switch.

A resounding sigh filled the empty room as she settled into bed, forcing herself to not look at the dark screen mocking her just a few feet away. "So she does not call?" a pain radiating through the old scar tissue from a snag, bag and tag gone wrong in her shoulder. At least that was her realization for her new aches and pains. "Fuck the ten added years of abuse," cursing the words as her head fell into the pillow. "I'm going on forty three, not like someone who is pushing 148," her fist hitting the foam pillow, then followed by a heavy thump of her head.

"Morpheus is calling," Myka mumbled in her worst British accent, vaguely remembering Helena's words from many nights spent in cheap hotels, never letting on to the other displaced agent squaring to adjust modern, cheap hotel rooms that just the sound of her accentuated words would lull her to sleep.

"You are such a pussy," Myka's last words falling into the abyss of cheap, two hundred thread count pillowcases as she finally released her mind to sleep.

The distance sound of noise caused her to grope for her phone, cursing out as her glasses fell to the semi clean carpet below. "Finally," she huffed as her fingers gripped her phone, "What?"

"Coffee, 1000am. You know the address, Agent Bering," with that, the phone went dead. Her sleep addled brain just barely remembering the gist of the words.