Yay, Internet is up and running! I wasn't truly aware of how much time I spend reading online until I began to get withdrawal symptoms and then headaches from staring at my tiny phone screen. Anyway...

So, I feel like I want to put a disclaimer on this one - no matter how many times I read it, I love it and hate it. I've messed and messed with it but in the end left it almost as it was at the end of the first draft. Not sure if Christina's role in this chapter is OTT but I think it's cute anyway so decided to keep all of her in. Now, it's just up to you guys to let me know if you like it ;-)


Chapter Seven

The bell rang out above the shop door and the girl behind the counter twitched with nervous excitement. After helping her parents in the bookshop on and off for the past three weeks, she had convinced her grandpa Warren that she was ready to serve a customer by herself. Mama had explained that an adult needed to supervise if she was making a sale or if the customer needed to enquire after something obscure but had promised that they would give her the chance to do as much as possible on her own.

Wandering cautiously into the store, a middle-aged woman in a navy-blue overcoat glance twice at the child behind the counter and smiled. Quickly finding her bearings, she made her way along the shelves, missing the slight disappointment on the girl's face.

Myka, who was ostensibly stacking shelves close by, nodded reassuringly. "Sometimes people like to browse. Give her ten minutes or so," she added and crossed her fingers that her partner was able to put their plan into action.

Deeper in the stacks, HG sized up the stranger and decided that she would do for their purpose. Keeping her voice low, she approached and made her presence known. "Excuse me? If you're not in too much of a hurry, could I trouble you for a favour?"

Wary grey eyes looked the well-spoken foreigner up and down. "What sort of favour?"

"The eager young lady behind the counter is my daughter. Do you possibly have the title of a book that she could help you find or an author perhaps?" Seeing the hesitancy rising in the woman's eyes, HG added, "If not, I have a list of a few and I will happily pay for your purchase. It would absolutely make her day."

Finally seeing where the English woman's motivation was coming from, the customer nodded and smiled at the idea of the thoughtful plot. "I did come in looking for something to pass the time with and also for some basic books on grammar for my son. Is that too much?"

"Not at all. My fiancée and I are close by if she needs help," Helena explained, feeling confident in her daughter's abilities but nervous at the same time.

HG waited anxiously, listening to the customer's query and her daughter's enthusiastic response. She heard their footsteps approaching and busied herself in a corner with a clipboard. Christina was asking questions from their prepared list; do you prefer fiction or non-fiction, which genres or topics do you enjoy, are you looking for a light read or something more taxing? The list went on.

After narrowing down the choices to crime-fiction and steering the woman toward two popular writers on her list, Lee Child or possibly Patricia Cornwell, pointing out that both authors boasted long series of novels if she enjoyed the first one, she guided her customer to the primary education section.

"DK Publishing's 'Language Arts' is a good tool for parents; there's lots of information and it's organised well. Scholastic have many activity books. Junior Madlibs are lots of fun. Mark Forsythe is very good too but he's in the adult section; Mummy and Mama always have to read him with me because the words are tricky." Christina pointed out her first suggestion, which was geared more towards the educators than educatees and then picked a handful from the child-friendly section. "Coloured pages are more expensive but they stimulate more areas of the brain and they're more attractive to us kids.

"Stickers are great for motivation but Mama says they're cheaper from the mall. She always says that we're better off buying a quality book and cheaper stickers." She dutifully opened the pages of the books and explained the features. "They all have their good points but my absolute favourite is this one." She replaced her earlier selection and held out the remainder. "The girl's like spaghetti! It's funny see? Because they've deliberately misused the apostrophe and now the girl looks like spaghetti. It doesn't cover many areas of grammar but I love it."

Silence followed and the inventor couldn't help peering over her shoulder curiously as she expected Christina's audience to respond. She had to smile at the expression of incredulity on the stranger's face. The pause was long enough for her to hear her daughter ask anxiously if her explanation had been ok, which prompted a halting response.

"Erm... yes. Yes of course, you've been very helpful. I'll just have a think about it," the woman told the girl as she thanked her. Once Christina was out of ear-shot, she turned to the child's mother. "Does she know the entire contents of the store?" she asked, thinking that perhaps she had stumbled upon a case of child-labour.

"Goodness, no. Though that's not for a lack of trying on her part." Helena smiled, understanding the unique experience of meeting her daughter. "She wanted to play shop, but insisted that she do it the right way. Feel free to take your time browsing," she insisted and decided that it was time to leave the woman alone.

As she walked back to the front of the shop and passed the cash register, she spotted her daughter in conversation with Myka.

"Mummy?" Christina greeted in a hushed voice. "Did you hear me? Did I do well?"

"Yes, my darling, to both questions. I especially liked the personal touch with your recommendations." She placed a kiss on the eight-year-old's head and moved to stand with her fiancée.

As if on cue, a small but unmistakable chuckle reached their ears from further within the shop. Christina grinned smugly. "I think she must be reading 'The girl's like spaghetti."

"Well, back to the grind," HG joked, leaving her daughter to continue hovering around the desk.

Waiting, for an excited eight-year-old, was a difficult task. More customers entered and disappeared behind shelves, reappearing after a few minutes with their own selections, which Myka helped her daughter to ring up.

"Myka," the third customer, an older gentleman, greeted with a smile as he reached the counter with his book. "I haven't seen you in your Dad's shop for ages, girl! How have you been?"

Agent Bering flushed slightly as she often did when meeting people she had known as a child, a reflex from the days when she had shied away from social interaction. "I'm good thank you, Mr Evans. We're just helping my Dad out for a few weeks; he hurt his arm recently and the doctors told him he had to rest."

"Ha, I'll bet he loved that," he murmured while pulling bills from his wallet. "And who's this then?" He smiled at the girl behind the till and then paused to look between the two females. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this one has your smile but I know it hasn't been that long."

Myka ran a hand through her daughter's hair. "A happy coincidence? My adopted daughter," she explained reluctantly. "As long as you love them, does it matter who gave birth to them?"

With exceptional timing, the sound of the inventor's heeled boots echoed across the hardwood floor and her carrying diction followed. "Darling? Do you think we could persuade your father to... Oh! I do beg your pardon; I didn't realise you were with a customer," she directed at her partner.

"Mummy, this is my second sale," Christina announced triumphantly.

"I'm hardly surprised, love. Your charms serve you well enough at home, why not here?" She tried to appear exasperated but her proud smile ruined the effect.

"Mr Evans," Myka took a mental breath as she prepared for the worst. "This is my fiancée, Helena, and our Christina."

Forgetting in all the excitement that this news was not always met by smiles and acceptance, and taking her cue from the brunette's announcement, the eight-year-old tugged at Myka's sleeve. "Mama, you forgot Freddy."

Flushing again, Agent Bering placed her hand over her bump, which was hidden by the counter. "And we're expecting."

There was an anxious pause where HG readied herself to defend her family and Myka's expression froze. Mr Evans seemed trapped in his thoughts too until his mouth gradually formed into a grin and he slapped a hand lightly on the counter, making all three females jump.

"Well I'd never have guessed it. Your mother crowed about that young man you were seeing a few years ago. I'll bet he wasn't nearly as lovely as this one though," he winked, continuing to bring heat to Myka's face even as Helena smirked.

Christina watched the exchange closely and caught the customer's second wink in her direction as her parents gazed at each other a fraction too long. "They do that a lot," she commented in an aside.

"Make the most of it," he advised and then a bit louder added, "Love suits them."

Myka and Helena both thanked him for his well wishes and custom before saying goodbye and greeting the next customer. Having almost given up on the lady Christina spoke to, the two agents had not long abandoned the cash desk with words of consolation for their daughter when the woman appeared, her arms weighed down by at least half a dozen books.

Ms Navy-overcoat dropped her burden as softly as she could on the counter and breathed a sigh. "Well, I have to say, I did not expect to find so much in one store but your recommendations were spot on young lady." She smiled as she eyed her purchase with satisfaction. As Myka reappeared to help with the payment, grey eyes fixed on her. "A comfy chair would have been nice though."

Agent Bering laughed and tilted her head toward the back of the shop, knowing her lover wasn't far away. "Did you hear that, hun? Comfy chairs!"

"I told him!" came the smart reply. "I'll not relent until your father sees sense, darling."

Still chuckling to herself, Myka assisted Christina with ringing up the items and bid the woman farewell. "Well done, Sweetheart," she murmured into wavy hair as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug. Releasing her, she pushed a lock of dark hair from bright eyes and gazed at the girl with pride bursting through her expression. "Now, time for a break and something to eat. I think perhaps you've worked hard enough to skip your studies this afternoon. What do you think?"

Grinning, the eight-year-old nodded keenly. "May I choose a book to take home?"

The brunette hesitated. She adored the face that her daughter shared her love of the written word but she worried that Christina would push herself too far. It was up to her and Helena to make sure their little girl had the opportunity to enjoy being a child for as long as possible. "Why don't you play for a while and we'll pick out a new book before we leave?"

Christina appeared to think about this for several seconds before nodding her approval. "Will you play with me?"

Myka nodded slowly. "Let's go and see if Mummy will mind the register while we're occupied."


At an undisclosed location, sat around a conference table, several bodies listened closely to the speaker - not one of them daring to intervene until he had finished. Slow, measured footsteps echoed around the room, each tap causing a collective wince from those assembled.

A soft, educated voice spoke in a cold monotone. "Concerns have been raised over the pace of our quest and I will remind each and every one of you that you were all well informed of the longevity of our mission and that you entered into the contract to fulfil our duty, not for glory or personal gain.

"You swore to give your lives to the cause regardless of whether or not you saw the end results." His boyish features did nothing to instil peace in his audience and as he finished pacing to take his seat, the room tensed. "Perhaps those of you who were born to the responsibility, question its validity. For any of you who continue to doubt our dedication though," he gestured with his right arm and a young lad stepped forward with a large wooden box. "Examples can be made."

He motioned for the boy to open the lid and multiple gasps filled the air. Two unseeing eyes stared endlessly from the severed head inside.


"Warren Bering, you put that box down right now!" Jeannie yelled at her husband as she watched him heading to descend the stairs.

Warren grumbled and reluctantly placed the books he was holding on a nearby surface. He cautiously waved his arm around, the movement noticeably easier than it had been a couple of weeks ago, but still a little stiff. "Jeannie, I can manage one box. I've rested, like you all told me to. Myka will be gone next week and it's time I started doing things for myself again." It was the end of his fourth week of recovery and their helpers were due to leave in three days time.

At the sound of her daughter's name, the aging blonde flinched involuntarily. She saw the patient understanding on her husband's face and sighed. "She's... they've been a big help," she admitted.

Mr Bering nodded. He glanced at his box of books and decided that it was too much trouble to argue about moving them now. He'd just have to wait until the morning when his wife was doing whatever it was that she did in the bathroom for half an hour. Instead, he tucked his hand into the crook of her arm and led her into the kitchen where he flicked the switch on the kettle.

"It's different seeing them together like this, isn't it? You have to admit, they look happy." Warren placed tea bags in mugs and poured over the hot water, not bothering with any of that teapot nonsense.

"How happy will they be when they're burning in hell?" Jeannie muttered as she accepted her mug and reached for the milk jug.

Mr Bering shook his head, sat next to his wife and reached for her hand. "I don't think you really believe that. Jeannie, I know this whole ordeal has been a shock and that you don't agree with what they're doing, but I think the only choice we have now is between having family and not having family." He sighed and sipped his tea. "Helena is an intelligent and caring person who makes Myka laugh and smile more than I've ever seen her do. Christina is everything we could ask for in a granddaughter and Myka loves her as much as we love our girls. They're going to have a baby and they're going to get married, and as strange as it seems to me, I want to be a part of that. I understand how you feel and I want to support you, but I'm not going to lose our little girl, Jeannie. Not over this."

He squeezed her hand again and stood up. After a brief pause, he picked up his mug and wandered off to the living room to give his wife some much needed space to think on what he'd said.


In the heart of South Dakota, in the nerve centre of Warehouse 13, Agent Pete Lattimer swivelled round on his chair for the hundredth time and sighed loudly. They really needed a TV in there, or Timothy Leary's glasses.

"Go and occupy yourself somewhere," Artie grumbled as he often did when other people were near him.

"I'm bored," Pete complained, pausing for a moment before swinging his chair around again.

"Go! Do inventory. Make yourself useful," the director barked.

Agent Lattimer unfolded from his chair but did nothing more than wander around the room, touching things. "Nothing's right without Myka here. We need an even number of agents so I don't have to wait around for the easy pings."

"It was your choice not to partner up with Agent Coombs. You didn't have to let Claudia go in your place," Artie muttered, his teeth clenched slightly as he realised that he wasn't going to get rid of his companion so easily.

"Claude's better prepared to deal with Jr Lady Cuckoo." He pouted. "Didn't think I'd ever feel nostalgic for HG's Nutty Professor schtick."

Artie nodded to himself. "She is an odd choice. But her ability to see the strength of artefacts has come in handy," he conceded.

"Sure, she's X-Men's Callisto of the Warehouse." Pete murmured. "Let's just hope she stays on our side. Our psycho-agent track record isn't great."

"Agent Wicks more than makes up for her instability. He's already half way through the manual," he added sternly, his hard stare fixed on Pete.

"A male Myka isn't going to replace her," the younger agent sulked.

In a moment of less irritation, Artie softened his tone. "Myka is irreplaceable, Pete, but you have to get used to working without her. Even if she does choose to be an active agent again, I think you'll find her involvement won't ever be what it was." He looked Pete up and down, taking in the slump in his shoulders. "It wouldn't entirely surprise me if your active duty slowed down too. We do have enough agents at the bed and breakfast now to allow you, Myka and I suppose, HG, to work from a distance. Your mother took a break when you and your sister were born."

Agent Lattimer slowly smiled. "Yeah, she did, didn't she? We all figured this place would suck the life out of us but it's more like it's brought us together and we've breathed life into each other. We're a family, complete with grumpy dad-slash-uncle-slash-grandpa," he teased, now grinning as he slapped a hand on the director's shoulder.

"You won't think it so funny when I do put you over my knee!" Agent Nielson exploded. "Inventory, now!"

"Careful, Artie. That vein is pulsing again," he backed towards the door as he took his renewed playful mood out on his boss. "Do you want me to call the Doc to come and tap on your chakras?"

"I swear, I will bronze you for the remainder of the day if you don't disappear in the next three seconds!"

"Yipe! I'm gone," Pete promised and skittered off in to the Warehouse.

"And don't touch ANYTHING!" an irate yell followed the lovable pest.

Pete jumped the last three steps and thrust his hands into his pockets. His little chat with Artie had helped to clear out some of the cobwebs from his thoughts, but it didn't stop him missing his best friend. He thought about Myka, HG and Christina. He pictured them from the park at Myka's birthday party and grinned to himself. It had been an awesome day and he was so buzzed after seeing the majority of his family having fun that he'd spent the rest of the evening gazing at his girlfriend with a gooey expression.

He was no longer sore about her refusal to marry him. In fact, he was more ashamed than hurt now and in debt to HG for talking him straight. He had an amazing thing going with Lila, it made no difference whether they wore rings or not.

More often than not these days, he found himself walking down the baby-aisle, fascinated by the things that made kids super-smart, incredibly talented or virtually indestructible. It was tempting but he knew better than to mess with something as fragile as his kid's life. As terrified as he was with the idea of being a father, he was ten times more excited. He was going to be kick-ass dad, just like his own.

After an hour of inventory, Pete decided that he'd earned a break and made his way to his 'man-cave'. His hand barely touched the fridge door when he felt a familiar feeling rise from his gut.

"Uh-oh." Before he could move, the phone in his pocket and the klaxon sound of his Farnsworth simultaneously screamed for attention. He checked the caller ID on his cell's screen as he popped the Warehouse-issue communicator on a table and flipped it open.

"Hold on a sec, Artie," he said before Agent Nielson could open his mouth. He put his phone to his ear. "Hey, Mykes. What's shakin'?" he asked carefully, not wanting to alarm her if she was just calling to chat.

"Pete? We have a situation." Myka's voice came through the receiver. "If you're not doing anything, I think I could use your help."

"Whoa, Myka; what's wrong?"

Through the Farnsworth, the director heard most of the younger agent's words and threw his two cents in. "Pete! Is that Myka? We have a ping in Colorado Springs, is she ok?"

"What?!" His attention flicking between the two conversations, Pete took a second to connect them. "Wait. Myka, Artie says he has a ping in the Springs. What's going on over there?"

Agent Bering's mouth moved a mile a minute as her words came tumbling out, "Helena went out to the store for ice-cream 'cause I was craving something sweet and she was fine when she got back but then she complained about feeling tingling on her skin and I suggested a bath. She went to run the water and she was taking forever. I thought... I don't know what I thought, but when I went to check on her, she was... flickering." She sighed.

Agent Lattimer listened attentively, his vibes absorbing the emotion behind his friend's rambling explanation as he ran through the Warehouse on his way back to the office.

Myka's volume lowered to a barely there register. "Her skin is changing. She's becoming invisible, Pete."

He absorbed this and felt his legs slow down. "Wait, are you telling me that HG Wells is becoming the invisible woman?" he huffed in amusement, forgetting for a second why he'd been in a hurry.

"Yes, and I get that it's somewhat amusing, but I don't want my fiancée, the mother of my children, to disappear," Agent Bering hissed in her friend's ear, hoping that he would remember that their job often came with a downside. "She doesn't seem to be in pain but I don't want this to be permanent and we might need an extra set of feet on the ground being as Helena can hardly carry out an investigation at the moment and I'm not exactly in any fit state to be chasing bad guys."

"Right." Hearing the worry in her tone, Pete started moving again, running faster this time. His words distorting through the phone-line as he tried to reassure her. "Hold on, Mykes. I'm passing you over to Artie now, and then I'm on my way."

After watching her husband leave the kitchen, with his words still ringing in her ears, Jeannie Bering continued to sit at the dining table as she mulled over the past few weeks.

Every morning that they'd expected Myka, she had felt a knot in her stomach, wondering whether the rest of her daughter's 'family' would be tagging along. A war waged inside of her, between the mother and the concerned citizen who felt she was doing her duty. A month ago, duty kept her in the disapproving category, with every intention of remaining firmly, if politely, in that place. Now?

It was so much harder to stay superior and unaffected when faced with the reality of her daughter's new life. Despite the discomfort of seeing the emotional intimacy between Helena and Myka, there was a growing feeling of warmth that swam in and out of her thoughts whenever she witnessed that glowing smile on her firstborn's face. Add that to the pride she felt when she saw Myka with Christina... Suddenly duty didn't hold the same importance.

Still, it wasn't easy to just let go of years of belief.

The shrill ringing of the telephone pulled Jeannie Bearing from her inner thoughts and back to her surroundings. Reaching out automatically, she picked up the receiver and greeted the caller.

"Mom? Erm... I need your help."


Jeannie to the rescue?

Up next... The Invisible Woman, more pieces of the puzzle and Christina gently gives Jeannie a piece of her mind.