"You can't just up and leave with a moments notice like that !" Warren Bering yelled as Myka pulled on her coat.
"I told you," She began.
"this is important."
Suppressing a childhood's fear of parental disappointment, of lack of understanding and sliding her bag over her shoulder, she turned to her to face her father.
"I'll be back." She calmly clarified, shifting her gaze between Warren, Jeannie and Tracy.
"What's this about ?" Warren demanded again.
"You won't even tell us that!"
"I can't get into it now," Myka responded.
"it's something that I have to do. That we have to do."
"Sweetheart, we're just worried. We want to know what's going on." Jeannie pleaded, slipping a calming hand into her husbands tense grip.
"I promise I'll explain later." Myka continued through wide, worried eyes, willing her parents to understand by emotion alone and beginning down the stairs, where Helena was waiting.
"And this is all to do with her I suppose!" Warren announced upon view of the mysterious stranger who was leaving with his child.
Myka threw one last glance up to her family, adjusting the strap over her shoulder and pulling in a strained breath.
"I'll explain later, I promise." She begged.
"Oh there he goes!" Warren started, growing further out of earshot with each step Myka took through the store.
"Always taking the easy way out! Never sharing a thought that goes on in his head !"
Sliding next to Helena in the back seat of a waiting cab, Myka grimaced and gritted her teeth.
"I'm sorry." Helena offered carefully, turning a concerned gaze her way.
"If I'd have known..."
"No, don't worry." Myka assured, cutting her off.
"It would have happened one way or the other, it always does."
The flight from Denver to Chicago was uneventful. Aside from delays due to snow, it was actually pretty calming for Myka. The comfort she found in working through the case they were dealing with and the ease she felt at Helena's presence, of sharing it with her, were a lot more like home than her parents apartment had been. She regretted that distance and she'd honestly meant everything she'd said about explaining later, about re connecting with her family. As she sat next to Helena though, flying some were over Nebraska and Iowa she could have kicked herself for actually feeling happy.
She'd called Pete before they boarded their plane, so at least someone knew where they were. Having known about the case for a while and having begrudgingly acknowledged the likelihood of what Helena was claiming, he'd been equal parts worried, shocked and not at all surprised to find out what they were doing. He'd offered to jump on a plane himself, reminding her how dangerous their plans might be and she'd told him no.. but thanks, she appreciated it. He'd then launched into a succession of kissing noises and suggestive references. Claiming sarcastically, how romantic investigations into art left and espionage must be what she'd always dreamed about and how lucky she was to have Helena show her such a good time. She'd hung up with an amused whatever Lattimer and promised to check in again in the morning.
The Art Institute of Chicago was buzzing when they arrived, even at 8am it was apparently a hive of activity, busy with preparations for the prestigious holiday gala it was shortly to host.
An impressive 1890's structure, along with it's modern wing it sat in the city's Grant Park and was was the second largest art museum in the United States. Housing an impressive array of impressionist and post impressionist work in it's permanent collection and currently home to several visiting pieces, it seemed to Myka, an obvious and probably unavoidable target for Wiesfelt and McPherson.
The likelihood of it's targeting was one thing, doing anything about it was another. Myka was fully committed to what they were doing but as they made their way to a thankfully unattended fire door on the building's southern side, she began to doubt the possibility of success.
Perhaps sensing her doubts, Helena turned to her with an utterly familiar and daring smirk as they paused in the secluded alcove offered by the door.
"Put these on." She insisted handing Myka a roll of pale blue cloth that she had taken from her bag.
Myka's doubt was followed by amusement and then quickly, other feelings as Helena removed her own coat and began to unbutton her shirt, looking back with an eye brow raised.
"Admiring something ?" Helena offered as she pulled on overalls that clearly marked them as maintenence staff. Drawing up her zipper up far more slowly than could possibly have been warranted, she was clearly enjoying the moment.
Emboldened by her companion's joie de vivre, Myka completed her own disguise. Pulling her hair into a pony tail behind her matching cap and stepping in front of Helena to place a hand on the still locked door, she replied.
" Maybe.." Before adding.
".. but first we need to get through this."
"Have no fear." Helena quickly assured.
"I come with back up!"
Retrieving her tablet from her bag, Helena attached a series of wires between a near by electrical junction box and the device. Quickly bringing up a file that read, KNOCK KNOCK, sheentered a series of commands. Calculations ran for a few moments and finally, the door shifted open with a barely audible thunk.
"courtesy of our friend Claudia." Helena announced.
Myka nodded with familiar affection at the name, Claudia Donovan was at first an acquaintance and then a friend, another gained though time spent at Dr. Fredericks office. The girl had a traumatic background, but an understanding older brother she had re connected with after years apart in the foster system. Although only 16 years old Cluadia had pushed through a mountain of struggles, including time spent at an institution. She'd fought, first for her own transition and then for early entry into university, studying computer science. Courtesy of their equally brilliant minds and work in over lapping fields she had become fast friends with Helena.
Mentally filing away the last of her own caution, the instinct held back, ready but currently not what she needed. Myka pushed the door open and boldly stepped inside. Looking over her shoulder one more time, she called back,
"You coming ?"
Helena gave a satisfied twist of her head and followed.
Blending in with a sea of identically uniformed workers and through no small amount of forged paper work that Helena again produced. They made their way in quick succession beyond the fervent loading and unloading of items and the Institute's loading area.
"So, this is it?" Myka questioned with a quizzicle focus on the large painting that sat un hung before them.
"Alice Liddell's portrait. Alice Liddell as in Lewis Carol. Alice in Wonderland." She continued matter of factly.
She knew the history of the book and how Lewis Carol had created the original story for a real life girl, Alice Liddell. She knew how it had been published, she knew it's printing history and that of it's sequel. She'd held original printings of both books in her family's store and she'd watched intently as a five year old when her father restored one of them.
"It's a rare piece." Helena assured.
"Many of the works that this museum houses are, however this one has never left London.
It's never been on display in public before and there are plenty of people eager for a closer look, given it's history with the author."
Myka had heard those stories too, stories about the painting's effect on people. The urban legend that was Alice Liddell's madness and Lewis Carol's involvement. How, over time the painting owners suffered succession after succession of madnesses and bloody ends. The legend held no sway over her though. No sway save for the fact that it was an interesting part of the book's history. She could see how it was a likely target given previous lefts linked to Wiesfelt and McPherson.
Standing next to Helena in the darkened gallery where it was to be displayed, the painting glared at them through the shadows and Myka couldn't help but feel a chill at the figure's stare. She felt an almost inexplicable familiarity to the fear that it stirred in her. She also felt the rush of what they were thrill of an adventure and the satisfaction that it was their's alone. She should have been home, proving to her parents that the daughter in front of them was in fact the daughter they always had. She should have been surrounded by the wholesome warmth of a family Christmas. She probably should have been suffering through the assurance, that no matter the details of her life, her father would never be satisfied with her G.P.A.
But honestly...
...she preferred being right where she was. She held on to hopes of a Christmas filled with snow and trees and magic too. She was just kinda hoping that now, it might include Helena.
Buoyed by what they were doing Myka looked over at her companion. Helena was concentrating in momentary study of the portrait. Her head was tipped to one side and her shiny black hair fell over one shoulder as she craned her neck toward it to see better in the darkness.
"It wasn't originally a painting you know," She began.
"Well... the frame at least."
"It was a mirror." Myka replied, eyes still locked away from the object of their discussion and onto her companion.
"It belonged to Liddell, she turned into a portrait because of the second book."
"She was desperate to make her journey into wonderland real." Helena continued.
"I'd have liked to meet her. She sounds like a fascinating woman."
"Mmmhmm..." Myka offered, no longer listening to the specifics of what Helena was saying, intent only on her voice instead.
"Are you listening to me?" Helena reproached with a grin, turning to face Myka.
Myka felt heat run quickly into her reddening cheeks as she fell under the other woman's gaze.
Helena continued to smile. It was her daring smile, the one accompanied by bright and shining eyes that she wore so often and had probably been the first thing Myka had noticed about her. Stepping closer, well into the range of personal space, she raised a hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Myka's ear.
"It appears that Miss Liddell isn't the only fascinating woman in the room."
Myka's cheeks reddened, but she failed to turn her gaze away. Instead, only biting her lip and feeling her breath hitch as she tried to speak.
"Personally," Helena whispered, drawing closer.
"I think that there's someone here who's far more fascinating than either Miss Liddell or myself."
Forgetting the reality of where they were, Myka found herself only taking in Helena's proximity instead. If she'd have been thinking at all she would have remembered the numerous times she'd fantasised about kissing Helena. She's have remembered the way she'd dismissed it as impossible or burned with frustration, not knowing what Helena wanted, not knowing if what she was feeling could possibly be mutual. Instead, so far away from their everyday lives, they drew together again. Tilting her head and reaching a hand to brush the nape of her companion's neck, Myka closed the distance between them.
.
.
.
.
.
A sharp metallic click and corresponding creek echoed around the room shaking both women, breaking them apart again barely a moment after their lips began to meet. The gallery's heavy wooden door began to creep open, revealing a chink of orange light that broke through from the gallery next door.
Myka's eyes shot wide, quickly grabbing Helena's arm as they began to dash for cover.
"The hallway!" She shot out.
In a matter of moments they were obscured from view, both breathing hard and pressed against the wall of a darkened corridor. Myka was hyper aware of Helena's body at her side,her mind racing with the reality of what they'd been doing only moments before but also re awakened to their purpose in the museum.
"It's the crew to mount the painting." Helena whispered, training her neck around the door frame just enough to see.
The workers in question were busy preparing equipment, sizing up their task and assessing the technicality of hanging the important work. Numbering a half dozen and seemingly assured of their task, they posed a problem .
" we can't drop our listening equipment with them in there! " Myka continued.
Helena was less troubled by the sudden upset. She just raised an eyebrow in confidence and began again, back into the gallery.
"What are you doing!" Myka called after her, volume raised to the maximum possible for a whisper.
"Reassigning work orders." Helena announced over her shoulder, not loosing step.
She went quickly to work, inexplicably brandishing yet more papers at an incredulous crew. With a succession of affronted huffs the crew beat their eventual retreat, leaving Helena alone in the room, surrounded again, only by the darkness and the likeness of Alice Liddell.
"It's clear!" She announced, voice returning to it's full volume, beckoning Myka's return.
"How did you do that?!" Myka replied, eyes and smile wide as she again made for the painting.
" I come prepared." Helena assured, passing the surely forged paper work that had earned them privacy Myka's way.
"Now, equipment!" She began again.
Dropping to her knees she began to lay out an assortment of wires and electronics, the cameras and listening devices necessary for their purpose.
Briefly rifling through the papers, Myka quickly abandoned them, looking down at her companion and the array of equipment being assembled on the gallery floor. With an amused grin she was re assured of their ability to do the work but she couldn't help feeling a pang of regret. She couldn't prevent her mind from again returning to the kiss they'd almost shared and despite her own professionalism, damning the interruption that had prevented it.
The listening devices that Helena had prepared were mostly custom, perfectly suited to their task but never the less a symptom of her sometimes feverishly active mind. They ranged in size and appearance to a dizzying degree, some small, sleek and simple, some that Myka had honestly given up on even trying to understand. They were complex and it wasn't as if Myka was opposed to technology but these seemed more like they belonged to another time or place. Dark wooden cases were intricately carved with decoration and fitted with polished brass cladding that was more suited to the books written by Helena's ancestor than to the here and now. Everything was quickly assembled, finding it's hidden place, ready to prove the miss deads that had been predicted.
Helena grew quiet as they lay in wait and monitored their equipment, hidden this time in a maintenence corridor a suitable distance from the gallery. Myka's mind wandered through intense focus on the task at hand, satisfaction of a point potentially proved and a wrong righted to thoughts on how she ended up there and where she might be headed. She'd entered college sure that her future lay in academia, certain that a masters degree and Phd would follow her under graduacey but the more she had worked this case, the more her future seemed to be changing again. A life she thought she'd planned for might have been turning into something else, even regardless of her growing feelings for Helena. Then again, she guessed that might just be growing up.
Helena's own motivation remained, at least partly obscured to Myka. She was falling pretty hard for the British student, their drives seemed to match each other and Helena's many layers, her brilliance, her daring and even the deep shadows that lay, as yet un revealed all drew Myka inexorably closer. She was not however immune to curiosity about Helena's past, she knew snippet, occasional and brief anecdotes about her family but the darkness behind her eyes, that was never explained. No matter how much Myka reached or how much they trusted each other, how close they had become.
Myka couldn't help but wonder though, she couldn't let go of that last piece of caution. Even if she was ignoring it.
Their intent vigil went on, one hour turned into two and still the gallery housing Alice
Liddell's portrait remained undisturbed. Forged documents that sent legitimate gallery staff away continued to do their work and two young women who had travelled a long way to prove a point waited patiently in the dark.
