Title: Ours
Author: A. Windsor
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka Bering, HG Wells, Pete Lattimer, Max Lattimer, with supporting roles from everyone else.
Pairings: Myka/HG, Claudia/Leena eventually.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My law degree (holy crap) could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it's pretty useless. So please don't sue; it's not mine, I'm just playing! And Max is mine, so please don't steal him!
Summary: Helena allows herself to want.
Author's Note: Yes, I'm still trucking along! Thank you all for your patience.
March 2017
Myka gives a wince as Max hits the piano key a little (lot) too hard. Again.
Pete groans.
"He's four-and-a-half," he complains. "He should be playing with Legos and monster trucks all day, not begging for piano lessons."
"You said yes," Myka reminds him.
"Oh, like, I'm gonna be the bad guy and say no. Besides, I figured he would do it once and lose interest. Or Artie would lose patience. Or something."
"It's a half an hour, once a week," Myka points out. "It's not the end of the world."
"A very loud, very jarring, half an hour," Pete whines.
"It's a good skill, Pete. And he likes it."
"I know," he acquiesces. "I just wanna make sure he spends as much time just being a kid as possible."
The lesson is nearing its end, Artie having taken over to play a song or two, to Max's delight.
"He's got plenty of kid left," Myka assures him.
"I know, I know. Just being…"
"An over-protective dad?" Myka teases.
"Laugh all you want, Mykes. You're gonna know exactly how I feel in six months," he says, pointing to her stomach.
"Oh, I don't think I'm going to be the overprotective one," Myka counters, putting her mug of tea down.
Pete makes a face. "Oh. Yeah."
The music stops in the other room, and the light thud of the piano keyboard closing is followed by the louder thud of Max hopping off the bench.
"Thanks, Grandpa Artie."
"I think it's time for a cookie, don't you?" Artie suggests.
"Cookie?" Pete perks up, already on his feet.
Myka rolls her eyes.
"What?"
"Just bring me one," she sighs.
"Ha! I love cravings-Myka!"
May 2017
She's been grounded. Which, yes, has been the case for months. But it's particularly more annoying when the morning sickness has passed and she feels mostly back to normal (besides her gradually expanding baby bump).
Helena has been helpful, but busy. She's helping pick up the slack in the field left by Myka's "grounding" as well as spending much of her off time in the lab, tinkering while she can.
So Myka spends her days at the Warehouse, doing paperwork and research, playing understudy and apprentice to Artie, and, today, doing the Warehouse's long list of errands with Dre. And Max. It's early May, no longer arctic cold, but Max is still pretty stir crazy, so they've dragged him along.
First stop is the dry cleaners, for both pick-up and drop-off. They're regulars.
"Your clothes sure have a lot of blood stains for IRS agents," the teenager behind the counter says, apropos of nothing, as he hands Dre this week's set of clothing.
The owner shoots him an angry look for questioning their best customers, and there's a tense beat, as Max feels the need to run around and touch every single thing in the small lobby and Myka eyes the teenager warily.
Dre, though, just flashes his mega-watt smile and says easily:
"It's the paper cuts."
He hands over the credit card, which the cashier runs through without further comment. The owner wishes them a warm good day, and Myka calls for Max to follow them.
"HG said y'all are gonna find out if it's a girl or a boy next week," Dre says conversationally outside the grocery store.
Myka takes a moment to respond, surprised. She forgets, sometimes, about the friendship that Deandre and Helena share. It's not her and Pete, but it is a bond forged in the fires of partnership, and she finds herself grateful that Helena has someone to talk to who isn't equally bonded to her.
"Yeah, we are," she says as she reaches a hand out to Max. The four-and-a-half-year-old takes her hand, begrudgingly, as they cross the parking lot.
"I want a boy," Max declares, skipping along beside her.
"I've heard," Myka smirks.
Max oscillates between excitement and disappointment about his soon-to-be cousin, but mostly he's settled on indifference. He doesn't realize just how much their lives are going to change in a few months.
Maybe none of them do. She knows she's still struggling to process it all.
"That's exciting. Are you feeling one way or the other?"
"No," Myka lies.
"I'm asking purely conversationally. I definitely haven't put any money on it," Dre grins mischievously, lifting Max into one of the "race car" shopping carts.
"Thanks, Dre," Max chimes, assuming the steering position.
"No prob."
"Aunt Myka, I want Deandre to push me. Please?"
Myka looks to Dre, who shrugs his agreement.
"Okay. As longs as no one breaks the speed limit."
Max giggles and Dre gives the cart a shove inside. A dozen steps into the store, both Warehouse agents freeze on the spot.
"Do you smell fudge?" Dre asks cautiously, his hand slowly moving to his Tesla.
Myka does a quick check of their vicinity and says, sighing with relief, "Sale! It's on sale, in the bakery."
"Oh, okay," Dre relaxes. "So… we're getting some, right?"
"Definitely."
Myka finds herself in a position she never expected: she is hoping, praying, wishing that the baby is a boy.
Myka, who fought so long against her father's disappointment. Myka, who for most of her life, when she thought about children, imagined little girls to raise into strong, brilliant women.
Myka desperately wants a son.
Because a daughter, for Helena, will be just that much harder.
Her wife hasn't said as much, of course, but Myka knows. She tries to talk about it, but Helena usually smoothly changes the subject and distracts her, which is unsurprisingly easy with her second trimester hormones out of control.
But there's nothing that can be done about that now, since they are minutes away from finding out.
She stifles a hiss as Vanessa squeezes the ultrasound gel onto her exposed stomach and sends up one last wish to the child inside her. Do you hear me, little one? Please be a boy.
Helena squeezes her hand and teases: "The blows I've seen you take in the field without a thought, darling, and a little jelly is what gets to you.
"It's cold," Myka whines, despite her best efforts.
"Now, now. No teasing the pregnant woman," Vanessa chides with a grin. "You know, when I installed this exam room for Artie's ever-regenerating appendix, I never expected it would get the most use for baby wellness checks and pre-natal ultrasounds.
Myka smiles, and Helena chuckles.
"Well I certainly hope our child is a sight more interesting to look at than Arthur's appendix."
"I should say so," Vanessa laughs. "So, we want to know the sex?"
"Yes," Myka says firmly.
"Well, I imagine it's good to know if you can use all of Max's hand-me-downs," Vanessa says, conversationally as she gets the machine ready. "Okay, I won't keep you in suspense any longer."
The quick, steady thump of their child's heartbeat fills the room, and Myka finds it as miraculous and breathtaking as the first time. And it is soothing, calming, reassuring. With Helena's hand firm in her own, Myka suddenly feels confident that they can handle whatever outcome. They can tackle anything together, as a family.
Vanessa traces out the baby's features and limbs, and Myka splits her attention between that marvelous sight and her wife's enamored, enraptured face.
"And now if we can just get the little one to shift just a little, and… yes, perfect. Now he's facing us."
"He?" Myka asks, breathless.
"Yes, congratulations. It's a boy!"
When she had been expecting Christina, she had never even contemplated the possibility of having a son. She'd simply known (wished, dreamed, willed) that Christina would be a girl. The idea of her, who spent her entire life striving (and often failing) to break down barriers between men and women, raising a child born on the privileged side of those walls was completely unfathomable.
And Christina had been a girl, and Helena had struggled to balance shielding her from the world's inequality and preparing her for it.
This time around, she considered the possibility briefly, but she's been try not to think about the baby's gender very much at all. This time the idea of a daughter is just overwhelming.
So Vanessa's announcement that Myka is expecting a boy brought with it relief, but also all of her old, unvoiced concerns about having a male child.
Helena's hand goes to the square locket on her chest, and this time, she opens it and peers inside. She does this less often than she used to, though one of the lockets always hangs around her neck, a faithful friend.
Today, Christina's face, smiling and bright, is not a pinch of grief but a welcome balm. The face in the faded photograph is that of her beloved daughter, exactly as she remembers, not that of the nightmare that continues to plague her.
Her dear, sweet Christina. She kisses the locket and then does something she hasn't done since those first dark years after Paris.
"Hello, darling. You're going to have a brother, you know. I think you would've liked that." She pauses, trying to chase away the nightmare's ghoulish images. "I worry I won't be so good at this, this time around. Although, I'm not so sure I was very good at it the first time. And a boy, love. What am I to do with one of those? How am I supposed to teach him to change the world, when the world is already his oyster.
Well, I do suppose we made a good man, a great man, out of that uncle of yours, eventually. Whatever his faults. And what a rough canvas we had to start! But you softened him, and I believe I was able to expand his mind. I can do the latter for your brother, my dear girl, but I can only hope to pass on to him your sweetness. I will try my best, though."
There are raucous footsteps on the stairs that can only belong to the Lattimers, so she closes the locket and takes a deep breath, relishing one last moment in her daughter's presence. Then she opens the bedroom door and puts on a wide smile for the incoming two-man elephant stampede.
"Hello, gentlemen. Where are you sprinting off to?"
"Bath time!" Max cries, already yanking his shirt over his head.
"You're not going to strip, too, are you?" HG quirks a smile.
"Maybe I will," Pete teases as Mac's shirt hits him in the chest. "Hey. You can't just throw your clothes around willy-nilly. Get back here and- Nope. There are the underoos. Stay in there! Stay in the bathroom. Macsen, you can't just run around naked! There are ladies present. Somewhere. I heard a rumor."
Pete grins and HG raises her eyes as he disappears into the bathroom after his son.
Myka has followed behind them, more quietly of course, and shakes her head.
"Ready for more of that?" HG asks her.
"I think the taking off all their clothes is a kid thing, not a boy thing," Myka smiles.
"Fair point."
There's a hail of giggles from the bathroom as Pete leans out and says, "Don't mind us. The bathroom needs a good scrubbing anyway," before pulling the door shut behind him.
"Have you told them the news yet?" HG asks as she pulls her wife into the bedroom.
"No, I thought we could do it together tomorrow," Myka smiles. "You know, when she first said it was a boy, one of my first thoughts was 'How are we going to raise a boy?' And then I remembered we've done that," she nods towards the bathroom, "for four years, and at least this one's not a Lattimer."
"Yes, thank god for that," Helena grins. "So you're happy?"
"Very," Myka reiterates. "He's healthy. That's all that matters. And now we can really start to narrow down names. We can even throw half the lists out!"
"Ah yes," Helena hums indulgently. "The lists."
When they tell Max that the baby is a boy, all he says is "Thanks" and runs off to play with Trailer.
When they tell the others, Pete is ecstatic, Dre and Steve grin, and Artie grumbles about finally gaining something resembling the upper hand. Claudia squeals (but that was to be expected either way) and Leena congratulates.
And so the B&B goes back to hopeful anticipation for the newest member of their family.
tbc