Disclaimer: I don't own anything or ever want to own anything related to Warehouse 13 or make any profit as a result of its production. It has provided a platform for the creation and development of my personal world. For that I say thank you.
A/N: Thank you for all comments and reviews. They are always appreciated and considered. Keep crying, keep laughing. Without one, you can't have the other.
My dearest Steven,
The planes are shifting and it is unnerving. Any thoughts? Something is not right. I know my continued position has always been not to bother with it, but it is strange. I imagine Claudia is remaining silent for once. She knows something.
Surgery is set. Claudia still intends to fly out here. It is not necessary, but we know it is more for her than us. It will be nice to see her. For her sake we hope all will be quiet. She worries far too much.
Tomorrow we leave so this is short. I do apologize. We still have quite a bit to do. We may leave the day after. How strange it is to not have such time constraints. Freedom is not something I am familiar with, even after all this time. My entire life has been controlled in some form or another.
Please do not share my concerns with the others. I hope this trip will help settle the anxiety that flows below the surface.
Stay safe.
-HG
PS. What is a wet tee shirt contest?
"Are we really out of kombucha? This is the only bottle in here." Myka turned around from the counter where she sliced up the cheese. Helena was bent over, still rummaging around in the refrigerator, desperately looking for another bottle of their home-made brew.
"I had to toss the last batch. It sat too long and tasted like vinegar. In this environment I swear it only takes three days to finish. You aren't really going to drink it with dinner are you?" Myka stood enjoying the view presented to her.
"That had been my plan. Why?" The bottle hissed slightly when she opened it. "We'll have to share."
"And end up in a belching contest again at the table? I thought that would be against your Victorian standards? Besides, you always win."
"Darling, there was none present at that last one." She smirked pouring the drink into two glasses, handing one to Myka. "Drink it now and get it out of your system. I still have my standards, but as you've pointed out, there are many things I can still work on to assimilate." She released a huge belch.
"So you decided to use Pete as an example?" Myka took a big gulp of her own intending to win this new battle.
"I agree he may not be the best example to emulate, but he does seem to represent a large part of the population." Another large eruption emitted from the small frame, causing her to physically jerk with the effort just as Myka drank more of the effervescent drink. "It is rather fun."
Myka grabbed her stomach as a small stream of liquid ejected from her nose in a middle of a laugh at Helena's impressive production. "Oooh. Oh my God that hurts. How do you do that?"
Helena started laughing and consoling at the same time, handing her a towel. "Oh, Myka, here. Ask Pete." Myka yanked the towel out of her hand as Helena backed up continuing to laugh.
"It's not funny!" Myka yelped between her own bouts of laughter.
Helena sunk to the floor against the refrigerator door. "I haven't seen such an astonishing reaction beyond Claudia's."
"Another reason not to make a new batch." Myka finished coughing. "Just toss the mother. I don't want to risk it going bad while we're gone. I'm taking the food out to the porch. It's too damn hot in here. Bring the wine will you?" Myka wiped her forehead before picking up the tray, mumbling something about air conditioning.
"Ahem. Yes. Of course." Helena tried to get serious, draining the liquid from the jar and reluctantly tossing the remaining slimy pancakes, spontaneously laughing in short bursts. She picked up the bottle of wine and headed out the door to be greeted by a large burst of cold water. She froze on the spot, speechless.
"Up for a wet tee shirt contest?" Myka roared at the expression on Helena's face, and then suddenly stopped as it changed watching a dark, cold expression fall over the face, wet hair plastered against her head.
"Now, Helena…" Myka's eyes got wide as Helena carefully set the bottle of wine down on the table. "Don't you even think about it, Well's." She dropped the super-soaker Pete had sent.
"Tit for tat. Or would that be tit for tit?" Helena slowly walked down the patio stairs grabbing the hose on the side of the screened door. Myka quickly surveyed her surroundings realizing there was nowhere to go, so she stood there as Helena gladly hosed her down.
Helena dropped the hose, appreciating the soaked Myka standing before her. "Myka, have you ever considered showering fully clothed? It's actually quite pleasing. What is a wet tee shirt contest?"
"No wonder the neighbors avoid us," Myka commented standing in the middle of the lawn. "Ask the guys." She slowly walked towards the patio and dove for the still running hose, rolling to the side and soaking down her partner. Helena tried to dive to the side, but slipped in the mud created by the hose when she'd dropped it. She fell flat on her face next to Myka, who managed to roll her drenched self on top of Helena holding her down. Not willing to be the loser in this little game, Helena managed to push Myka off with an unexpected move and pressed her full body into the long frame, dominantly holding her down with her forearms.
Helena tried to shake the wet hair plastered to her face out of the way. After three tosses of her head, she gave up and fully leaned into Myka's long frame holding her head lightly as she sought out a recently long absent deep kiss. "Now who's under whom?" she whispered into her ear.
"You don't fool me, Wells. I know for a fact you enjoy being under me far more than you would ever admit to anyone but me," Myka answered quietly, returning the kiss. "And just to let you know, not that I think you've ever cared, but the creepy neighbor next door is watching everything we are doing. This is Atlanta, not the warehouse."
Helena looked up at the man staring at them. "Oh, hello there. Are you having a good evening? I'm sorry, but did your cable get knocked out? I do believe my evening has just greatly improved. So, if you'll excuse us, I think we'll be heading in just now. I do hope your cable comes back on soon." Helena pulled Myka up off the ground and headed back in grabbing the wine on her way. "Darling, do grab the tray for dinner. I'm famished. What a lovely way to cool down. I am seeing some advantages to living in Atlanta. Very refreshing way to cool off."
Tray in hand, Myka let the door slam behind her. "Do you have any idea what he's going to do?" she asked.
"Of course," she said casually, taking the tray from Myka and putting it in the refrigerator. Let him have his horrid little fantasy. I have the real thing. We have wet clothes to get out of and this wine will come in quite handy I think. That is always the best kind of revenge."
Myka stared at the ceiling wide awake. They'd had a good laugh later eating on the patio, another bottle of wine opened. They'd finished off the evening on the swinging bench in quiet solitude, watching the evening settle in. She turned her head towards the soft snore beside her and smiled, struggling not to laugh out loud at the figure beside her in the light peeking through the window from the street joining the faint light of the bathroom. She sometimes wondered if the woman was part cat. This thought caused half-hearted arguments some mornings with disbelief. She never quite understood how the positions this woman slept in could possibly be comfortable. Helena had somehow pinned Myka's right leg down with her calf again and her foot stretched under Myka's other leg. Her right leg hung off the edge of the bed. Covers pushed aside and the sheet shoved down below her waist, the small of her bare back faced Myka daring to be touched. She'd twisted the rest of her body around so that she lay almost completely on her stomach, head resting on her crossed arms hugging a pillow facing away from Myka.
Myka clasped her legs around the one staking claim to her in sleep, leaning over towards the contortion beside her. No longer able to resist, Myka's hand was lured by the bait that lay before her. A single finger, barely touching the damp skin, slowly meandered down the warped back to the edge of the sheet and back up. Instinct alone led her to the jagged scar that ran along the edge of Helena's left scapula, circling it with wonder at its origins. She'd never asked and Helena never offered. She'd accepted it with all the other scars and wounds Helena periodically came home with, unable to explain their appearance.
She continued the tour down her left side, eliciting a slight whimper and a sigh. Helena rolled on her back with a moan, arms stretching above her head as Myka more daringly stroked the now exposed breast, circling slowly inward. Eyes never opening, Helena gasped as her body rose to meet the teasing finger. Replacing her hand with her mouth Myka quickly slid her arm under the back encircling the warmth of her silent lover. She stroked down the far side, following the defined ribs and continued to trace a path along the leg still hanging off the bed, whose foot braced against the side of the mattress. The return trip brought her hand up the inside of the leg to the moist warmth demanding release. Despite all of their friends teasing them for their enthusiastic endeavors, they would never understand that the greatest heights, emotionally and physically, were achieved in silence. It would be quick and intense followed by silent tears.
Gulping for air, Helena stiffened tightly before releasing with a quiet squeak. Myka laid her head on the heated, damp chest, feeling the pounding of the heart beneath as another wave trembled through the body in her arms.
Ignoring the wet trails streaming down the sides of her own face, Helena wrapped an arm around Myka's back holding her close. She buried her hand in Myka's hair, firmly rubbing her scalp before running down the side of the wet cheek, erratic tears coagulating with beaded sweat covering her own body. She pulled her right foot on the bed, cold despite the overly warm night, to be taken in Myka's warming hand.
"What do you do to me in my sleep that makes that happen?" Helena asked hoarsely. She began tracing her own path over Myka's back, renewing a dance on the familiar plane. With Abigail's guidance they had been able to learn how to do this for hours; no goals, no expectations, no demands, and no destination in mind, only absorbing each other until they slowly faded into sleep wrapped closely together. Nothing more than exploring fingertips and hands. Mouths tasting and nibbling. Sighs and whispers murmured with gentle demands; "Close your eyes. Roll over. Sit up. Lie down. Put your arms there." For Myka, it was confirmation Helena was still there, alive and breathing. Still whole and safely in her arms. For Helena, it was a confirmation that she was still trusted and loved despite what she continued to believe hovered below the surface; a cold darkness in her soul created by a past of pain and confusion. The mornings would find them still tightly wrapped together, loath to wake, soaking in every fiber of the being beside them.
It was only later, after their work with Abigail, that they would happily stumble into breakfast late holding hands, faces drawn with fatigue, but calm and at peace, to be greeted by their friend's gibes and taunting at their tardy entrance. Abigail would merely smile and fill Myka's big coffee cup, standing by to top it off after Helena drank half of the dark liquid.
The raucous noise from the bedside clock startled them awake from their bliss. Myka groaned, covering her head with a pillow as Helena haphazardly pushed buttons to make the bleating stop.
"Sometimes I do detest technology," Helena grumbled, relaxing back into Myka's arms, starting to doze off again. Myka knew she was the only one to ever know this side of Helena, in either century; the soft mush that wanted nothing more than to snuggle as close as possible; for as long as possible.
Myka threw the pillow to the side and ran a hand through the soft hair, placing a kiss against Helena's temple, whispering into her ear, "I need to go to work."
"Call out sick," an almost imperceptible response was mumbled into her neck. "You don't really like the job. You're bored and unchallenged. I don't understand why you didn't let them transfer you into the field office here."
"I can't call out sick because my girlfriend is horny." Myka laughed abruptly. "Besides, we're leaving soon."
Helena moved out of Myka's neck slightly. "I am not horny, as you call it. Contrary to popular belief I am not the 'horn dog' that Pete referred to me as. Lucky for him, I didn't know what he meant at the time. I'm simply enjoying being semi-unconscious on you." Helena flopped over on her back with a dramatic 'Umph.' "I'm tired. I may be getting too old for our love-fests."
Myka quickly pounced on her unsuspecting lover eliciting a resounding shriek of surprise. She leaned down whispering in her ear, "I hope not. After all, you are only, hmmm, thirty-six is it? I love that I can do that to you," she chuckled before kissing the tender spot below the ear.
Helena shivered from the warm breath in her ear. "Do what? Exhaust me or make me squeal like a little girl?"
"Both. But if I had to choose, I'd say neither. I'd say allowing Abigail to help us learn self-control and actually exhausting you as a result."
"As I recall, since I am now wide awake and memories are becoming quite clear, it was your lack of self-control that started it all in the first place. What exactly, if I may ask, do you do to me in my sleep? It seems the only time I respond so…" she stared at the ceiling beyond the head grinning proudly down at her, "dramatically."
"It's a secret," Myka breathed into her ear before sitting up and straddling the warm, damp body beneath her. She circled the bump on her collarbone left from one of the fractures and traced the slight rise of skin above a small plate. "Are you complaining?"
"Hardly, darling! It is rather irksome though that I have yet been able to return the favor." Helena stopped the roaming hand. "I thought you had to go to work?"
"I do." Myka sighed, sitting back on Helena's legs.
"Well, then get off me or follow through with your teasing. It's already hot and you are hurting my legs."
"You stopped the hand. Share a shower?" Myka got out of the bed holding a hand out. Helena grabbed it, forcefully getting pulled out of bed and into the waiting arms.
"Only if it's a cold one." Helena disengaged herself and headed for the bathroom.
"We do have air conditioning, you know. All you need to do is turn it on," Myka said to the retreating figure.
"I hate air conditioning. It's too cold and is a shock to my system."
"And I'm getting tired of hearing you complaining about the heat," she mumbled under her breath.
Myka took a double take at the figure sitting at the table at the end of the aisle. Papers spread around the table and a workbook set on top in the middle. She had her feet on the chair with her legs hugged up close against her, chin resting on her knees. Perplexed, Myka wandered down the aisle stopping at the edge of the table.
"Helena? How long have you been here?"
Helena looked up as perplexed as Myka. "Oh, I don't know. What time is it? I had lunch with Vanessa after I finalized everything with Dr. Jordan's office and she offered to drive me home, but I asked her drop me off here instead. I have this to finish and I thought we could go home together."
"It's 3:30. Why didn't you come find me?"
"As strange as it may sound, dear, I honestly thought you would know." She paused. "You didn't know, did you?" Her face fell. "You always know…" she trailed off looking down at her work.
Myka scratched her head. "You look cold."
"I am." Helena had wrapped her arms around her bare legs.
"Then why are you in here?" Myka struggled to comprehend how she could have missed Helena over the past two hours.
"Because it's hot out there, and you are in here. I'm trying to finish this up to send off to Claudia before we leave." She motioned to the organized chaos typical of Helena at work.
"Hold on. I'll be right back." Myka walked away without another word. Helena watched her back as it turned around the corner before turning back to her work, her pencil tapping an irregular pattern on the table's dark surface.
"Here." Helena jumped at the voice. Myka handed her a sweatshirt. "What's going on? You didn't know I was there."
"Nor you me." Helena shook her head, putting the sweatshirt on. "I don't know, Myka. Tired from last night, perhaps?" She tried to smile. "Mmm. It smells like you."
"After those nights it's usually annoyingly strong. Do you feel it?""
Helena sat still, closely examining the papers in front of her before shrugging. "I always have on some level. It's not something I ever think about, Myka. Do you? I thought we decided that was Claudia's job."
"Well, no, not really. It's just there." They sat staring at each other in the quiet of the library. "Maybe you're right and we're just tired." She returned Helena's forced smile. "I'll be done in another hour or so. I'll come get you. Okay?"
"Hmm. I'll still be here. Don't worry about the time. I have plenty here to keep me busy. I'd hoped to finish it by now." She sighed, sitting back gazing at the mess, then leaning over a sheet, making a notation.
"What are you working on anyway?"
"Additional security measures for Leena's and the guest cottages. The cottages are rather lacking considering their intended housing."
Helena continued to work, pencil end in her mouth, never looking up when Myka sat down across from her. After a moment's thought and some more notes, she looked up, raising her eyebrows with a question. "What, Myka?"
"I thought the whole point of this move, was to 'leave'," she quoted with her fingers, "the warehouse. How does your working on designs and projects for different facets of it count as our leaving and starting a different life? Leaving was you're idea."
"You know it was more than just my idea. I merely presented the facts as I saw them. It was a joint decision based on our endless discussions, or so I thought." Helena crossed her arms around her chest and stared at Myka across the table. Getting no further response, she picked up her pencil and went back to work, head tilted down, eyes focused on the nearly finished schematics. "I'm almost done. It's just one little project to keep me busy. Well, two. Claudia got stuck with the grappler so we needed to go back and 'tweak' a few things. I'd be willing to bet a week's worth of dinner and dishes that you make use of this department for various artifacts as well." Helena looked back up, brown eyes boring into green. Myka looked away. "I heard you talking to Pete the other night on the porch and actually giving him advice on one of his artifact searches. I'm correct in that assumption, aren't I? Why did you think you needed to hide that from me? Don't do that. God damn it, Myka, sometimes I think we were better with each other there than we are now."
"It has a huge archive, Helena," Myka complained. "Anyway, we're just adjusting, that's all. You didn't really think we were just going to walk out on our merry way like nothing changed, did you? I understand why you wanted to leave."
"Do you really? I thought you did, too?" Helena sat back in the chair.
"You weren't the only one to have good reasons. Look, I need to go back to work. Can we talk about this later?"
"Fine." Helena threw her pencil on the table. "But remember WE made the decision and it's not your job anymore, either. Some travel will do us good. My hand gets fixed and we plant ourselves somewhere. Just not in Atlanta. I've taken serious thought about that philosophy idea of yours. It's not like any of my designs are worth anything to anyone else."
"We're turning on the AC when we get home."
"We most certainly will not!"
"Shhh. This IS a library; the research department no less. And, yes, we are. I'm tired of listening to you complain about being hot. I'm not exactly comfortable either. Last night was miserable. Well, obviously not all of it." She blushed looking away down the aisle.
"It's too cold," Helena complained. "The change in temperature from outside to inside is too drastic."
"We adjust our house to something moderate. I agree it's cold in here. That's why I have that sweatshirt you are happily wearing and oddly keep sniffing. Didn't notice which one it was did you?"
"Of course I did. It's the Manchester United one I brought back for you. It wasn't an easy thing to grab on that mission. We were quite pressed for time and I thought Steve was going to have a coronary." She giggled at the memory of his anxiety over missing the flight home and accused her of being more interested in getting the shirt than the artifact. He was probably partially correct in his accusation at the time.
Myka smiled at her reaction. "You need to giggle more often. It's too bad no one else gets to hear it. It's cute."
"I did no such thing. I was not giggling and I'm NOT cute. Now go back to work so I can finish this. I really do want to send it out on the drive home."
"If you finish we can send it from here and not have to stop. We have tubes for that kind of stuff. We do it all the time."
Myka left her at the table staring down the empty aisle. Helena dug her phone out of Myka's old briefcase she found for her papers in the closet.
-What's going on?
-Huh?
-warehouse.
-not your problem anymore.
-Claudia….
-HG. Don't
-it's off
-I know. Stay away. Only way to fix it. Cut the ties.
-?
Not getting any further answer she tossed the phone on the table watching it slide off shattering on the floor.
"Lovely. Now I need to get another new phone."
"When was the last time you talked to HG and what the Hell did you say to her? Does she know all of this," Steve motioned to the warehouse in front of him, "is going on?"
"I don't know. A couple of days ago. Why?" Claudia was furiously typing at the keyboard in front of her. "And no, she doesn't know. It's not their problem. They left."
"Well, something is obviously not right. You said everything was wrong. What's going on, Claudia? What are you not telling us?"
The increased static in the warehouse was becoming more unpredictable. Steve watched as flashes struck from one area to another, but concentrating on one.
"There's nothing to tell, Steve. I'm trying to figure it out. The warehouse isn't talking to me much, alright?'
"What?"
"She talks to me. Usually a little more subtly, but yeah. Myka and HG still have some sort of connection here. They have to break that and they haven't yet."
"So, what? They can't come back? What about Christmas? Pete's almost got it all arranged."
"I don't know yet. I don't think the physical is the problem. It's something else and I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"Trust me, I just can't. Why'd you ask?"
Steve looked at the paper in his hand. "No reason."
Claudia's fingers froze and she quickly turned around to look at his hands. She tried to grab the letter, but he was too quick, shoving it into his mouth before she could grab it.
"Really? You're eating it?"
"Uh, huh." He nodded voraciously.
"You really suck, dude."
Steve swallowed with difficulty. "She told me to."
"Better hope she ran out of poison ink. I already know anyway."
