Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13.

A/N: I'm sure you guys are tired of the word sorry coming from me, but, once again, I'm sorry it took me so long to update. The past couple of weeks have been hell. By best friend's long term relation suddenly came to an end, another friend's father past away, family life's been rocky, school's been getting out of hand, etc., etc. I'm not going to drown you guys in the drama of my life, just know that I am trying. Also, I've been writing, trying to dig my way out of a couple holes I fell into. I'm a few chapters ahead of myself at this point, but still really iffy on them. This chapter was sort of left as a "yes this needs to be written but I'll get to it later" for a while, and I finally got some words down and, frankly, I hate it. However, it's something to produce, and I'll live you with the promise that there will be improvement in the future. Thank you so much for your patience!


Chapter Seven

Myka Bering's mind was racing, and she wasn't completely sure of any thought that passed. Her own thoughts were no longer coherent, and she struggled to keep up as they sped through her mind, instead getting hit with waves of things she was far too stubborn to call emotion.

"Go, go, go, go, go, go, go"

"Get a grip, Berring. Get a hold of yourself!"

"Moovvvvvvee! Faster, faster, faster, go, go, go, go, go"

"Breathe, Myka. Breathe"

"What the hell am I doing?"

These thoughts swam through her eyes and slammed themselves into the walls of her mind, bouncing off one and onto the other. As her mind raced and crashed, her body climbed, lifeless in its movements, barely connected to the mind that controlled it. As her mind raced, her body rebelled; her body dragged itself up the steps, rushed and wild. Instability radiated off the agent as her body drowned itself in its own mind, trying to keep up with it.

"Oh! Sorry! I, uh, here let me help you."

Myka's eyes were blind to the body at the top of the stairs, and her eyes only cleared when she slammed into the other woman. Myka was flustered, and managed nothing more than a blank stare as the other woman bent down and picked up Myka's bag, which had been dropped.

When she straightened, Myka's mind cleared and she managed an apologetic smile.

"I- Sorry! I wasn't looking I guess." Myka laughed, taking her bag gratefully.

The woman smiled and shrugged, unaffected by Myka's lack of grace. "I don't think I've seen you before. You're the new tenant in #4?"

Myka took a breath, grateful for her apathy. "Yeah, yes, #4." She smiled. "Do you live here too?"

"Yeah, #2. I'm the only other apartment on your side of the hall. I'm, uh, Jillian, by the way."

Myka slung her bag over her shoulder and shook Jillian's hand, a friendly smile on her lips. "Myka,"

Jillian smirked. "Myka; I like that. Cool name. Good to meet you, Myka."

"Thanks," Myka chuckled, "Nice to meet you."

For a moment, the two women stood there, smiling awkwardly at each other, trying to find something to say, before Jillian spoke up. "Well, uh, I have to run, but I'll see you around."

"Yeah, of course." Myka breathed, once again thankful for her breaking the awkwardness. "I'll, uh, see you."

Jillian smirked before slipping around Myka and starting down the stairs.

"Oh, hey?" Myka called, remembering the friendly neighbor part she had to play.

Jillian stopped and turned around, looking up at Myka.

"Any crazy neighbors I should know about? Any musicians that like the play drums at three a.m.? Kids that throw orgies next door?

Jillian laughed. "No, you're safe. You um," Jillian paused, before looking up at Myka and chuckling. "This is supposed to be a surprise, but it's kind of an awkward tradition, so I'll give you a warning. Everyone's really close here; it's really important for Clara and Jerry to know everyone that lives here. Expect a crowd of us to knock on your door tonight. We'll have wine and some food, but new tenants are always caught off guard when the neighbors make a party out of introducing themselves in your apartment. It's, um, it's a really weird tradition, but there's something about Jerry and Clara that makes it less rude and intrusive than it actually is."

Myka exhaled. "Oh, okay." She stuttered, chuckling nervously. "Thanks."

"Yeah; just a warning." Jillian smiled, turning around and finally completing her trip down the stairs.

Great, Myka thought. Lack of privacy is an undercover agent's nightmare.

Myka took a breath, repositioned the bag on her shoulder, and started down the hall, not sure how long she could last.


Thanks for reading! Just so you know, I'll be out of town, with no internet access for the next 1/2 week or so, so don't expect anything immediate, but it is coming. Also, please no spoilers about the mid-season finale. With all the chaos I missed it, and have been unable to find the time to watch it. So please don't say anything about it.

-G