Title: Delivered

Author: A. Windsor

Fandom: Warehouse 13

Characters: Myka Bering, HG Wells, Pete Lattimer, with supporting roles from everyone else.

Pairings: Myka/HG, Claudia/Leena if you're inclined to see it.

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 two years of law school 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!

Summary: "I didn't sign up for the Warehouse to mess with us like this."

Author's Note: Happy Thanksgiving! (Even if you don't celebrate it! :P)

"Claudia, be careful with him," Leena admonishes as Claudia races Max's stroller ahead of her down the sidewalk.

She's like a big puppy with him: she loves him more than anything, but sometimes she's just a little too exuberant and it makes Leena worry.

In response to her admonishment, Claudia zooms Max around in a tight circle to face her, and Leena tries hard not to yell, even as the panic grips her chest. Max just giggles and claps his hands at the movement.

"He's fine. Perfectly safe. Hurry up! We don't want all the good baby swings to be taken."

The thirteen-month-old has a hooded sweatshirt on to fight against the very slight late September chill, but Claudia seems perfectly content in her long-sleeved shirt.

"Just not so fast."

"Leena. I won't let anything happen to him. But he likes it. Right, Max?"

"Yeah," Max uses one of his newer words.

"Can you say: 'go fast, Aunt Claud!'?"

"Go, 'Aud!" he declares.

"Whoa." Claudia freezes, then clutches at her chest. Leena grins at her. "Did he just-?"

"Go, 'Aud, go!" Max demands again.

"Way to go, Max!" Claudia grins, offering her hand for a sloppy high five. "Now say: 'C'mon, Aunt Leena!'."

"Leena!" Max cries.

"Close enough," Claudia beams. Leena has caught up with them now, and Claudia bumps her hip. "He said my name."

"I heard," Leena says as they start walking towards the park again. "Mostly."

"He said my name, and he said it before Steve's," Claudia continues to gloat.

"I don't know... He was getting kinda close to Steve's last night."

"No! Nope. I am still recovering from him saying HG before Claudia. She's only been living here a month."

"Oh, but that was cute," Leena counters, the park now in sight.

"Yeah," Claudia relents. "It was adorable. But I'm still bitter."

"I bet swings will make you feel better."

"Yeah."

"Ready for the swings, Max?" Leena asks.

"Go, 'Aud, go!"

They barely make it back to the room.

They have a successful artifact retrieval and a wondrously quiet dinner. No one talks over them, or cries, or throws food. (The last person to do the latter, surprisingly, was not Max.)

So, they have a lovely meal at a fancy restaurant, with lots of wine, and they barely make it back to the room before they are all over each other. Helena probably wouldn't have objected to a little action in the empty elevator or deserted hallway, but Myka wouldn't hear of it. As soon as they are inside the hotel room, though...

Myka pushes Helena back against the door as it closes behind them. She has one hand in her hair, the other sliding around her hip for a firm grip on her -

Her phone starts blaring Eye of the Tiger.

Myka groans.

It's Pete. Which means it could be something really stupid, something totally not worth stopping this for (especially considering how often Max's teething, or Pete and Claudia's bickering, or Leena's war against Trailer's muddy feet, interrupts them at home). Or it could be -

"You should get that," Helena says, stepping around her but keeping a finger linked in a belt loop, pulling her along. "It might be Max."

Myka gets to the phone in time.

"Hello?"

"Please hold for the Emperor Maximus, calling to say goodnight," Pete declares.

Myka rolls her eyes and activates the speakerphone, hearing Pete stage-whisper:

"It's Aunt Myka and HG."

"My'es? Agey?"

"Hello, Max," Helena greets, sitting at the end of the bed, tugging Myka over to stand between her kneees.

"Hey, buddy," Myka smiles. "Are you headed to bed?"

There's a rustle at the other end of the line, and Myka and Helena share a smirk. They know that the fourteen-month-old has lost interest already.

"No, Max, stay here," Pete says. "You have to say goodnight."

"Sleep well, Max," Helena calls.

"Goodnight, Max. We love you."

"Yep, we lost him. But you guys got big smiles, I promise," Pete sighs.

"Good," Myka says. "Kiss him for me. Everything okay there?"

"Yep. The inn is still standing. Even though Max and Tray chased each other around downstairs for a good half hour today."

"Okay, then, Pete, in that case we're gonna go."

"Alright. Goodnight. Enjoy your kid-free sleep."

"Oh, we plan on it. 'Night."

"Goodnight," Helena adds.

Myka hangs up the phone and tosses it onto a nearby chair.

"Now," Helena grins devilishly. "Where were we?"

Myka groans as the alarm breaks through her delightfully comfortable sleep. Fancy hotel beds are the best, especially with Helena wrapped around her all night. Speaking of...

"Stop watching me sleep," she complains, burying further into the pillow, pulling Helena's arm around her waist.

"I do no such thing," Helena defends. She separates long enough to silence alarm before gathering Myka into her arms again, kissing her below her ear.

"You were. You always do," Myka counters. "What time is our flight?"

"Eleven, I believe."

Myka rolls over to face her and then smothers a yawn.

"We should go get breakfast then."

"I already ordered some from room service."

"You were so watching me sleep."

Helena laughs, but only allows: "I was awake early."

Myka's face automatically shadows with concern.

"Another dream?"

"Mmm."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Perhaps over eggs, yes," Helena smiles softly as there's a knock at the door. She kisses Myka and then heads to answer it.

"Put a shirt on first, please. You scarred that poor boy in Charleston."

"Are you still keeping count?"

Claudia jumps and then flushes at getting caught staring at Myka, HG, and Max through the window.

"No," she retorts to Pete's teasing. "She's only ever gone for missions these days."

"It's nice to have her back."

"Yeah. Both of them."

Pete smiles fondly and joins her in watching. It's early November. Myka and HG have bundled Max up enough that he closely resembles the Michelin Man, and the fifteen-month-old is running around enjoying the large piles of the season's last leaves. Trailer does his best to herd Max, but the little 'lamb' takes it as an invitation to play and tosses a tiny fistful of leaves at the dog. Myka lifts Max up over her head and (at a glacial pace) "drops" him into the pile, where he kicks delightedly. Then she leans over and grabs a handful of leaves. She trickles a couple on Max's head, and then tosses the rest at HG. When Max follows suit, HG launches a counterattack with mock affront.

"They give me hope," Claudia announces, unprompted. "You know?"

"For what?"

"That maybe there is someone out there for all of us. I mean, if they can find each other through all of... everything." At that she waves a hand to demonstrate the enormity of all of the hurdles in their way. "Then the rest of us should be able to, too. Right?"

Pete rests a brotherly hand on Claudia's shoulder.

"Yeah. You're right. So. You gonna come outside with me and teach these losers how playing in the leaves is really done?"

Claudia grins widely.

"Let's do it."

"No."

"Aw, c'mon, Myka. You like this stuff."

"Pete," Myka sighs, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm not doing your inventory for you. We all have our assignments, and we'll all go do them."

"We're the A Team. We should be in the field instead of Claudia and Steve."

"Stop whining."

"At least trade with me. I hate the crazy British authors section. No offense," he tosses in the direction of the group's third member.

"Barely any taken," HG flips back with the slightest sneer. "I'll switch with you."

"As meta as that is, sure. Whadda ya got?"

"Sport."

"Sweet!"

"Pete, don't touch anything," Myka immediately admonishes. She turns her attention to HG and narrows her eyes. "You, too."

"I wouldn't dream of it, darling," HG objects and kisses her cheek quickly before wandering off towards her assignment. "I've been doing this a good deal longer than either of you, you know."

"And you've always followed the rules," Pete snarks after her.

"No, no. I change the rules," Helena calls back over her shoulder.

Myka smirks and watches her disappear around the corner.

"You two are gross," Pete says with brotherly annoyance as they walk in the opposite direction. Myka punches his shoulder. "What? You're always flirting!"

"We are not."

"You so are," Pete pfts, reaching for an out of place artifact.

"Pete," Myka complains.

"What? I'm just putting it where it belongs," he defends. "Anyway, whatever. It's cute. Usually."

"We're not cute," Myka starts, "We're-"

Her vain objection is silenced by the klaxon of the B&B proximity alarm.

It is in all likelihood a very large squirrel, but Pete and Myka have yet to let themselves get lax about the whole thing. They run through the many aisles separating them from the office and sprint up the stairs. Pete immediately calls up the video as Artie emerges from another door. When the feed fills the screen, all three of them freeze, blood running cold.

"Who-"

"Don't really care right now," Pete declares, already grabbing the Tesla rifle and his service weapon. He tosses the same to Myka.

"I don't recognize any markings or - "

"Artie. There are armed commandos invading our home. Where my son is. We can figure out the details later. Car. Now."

They're already speeding down the road when Myka finally finds a voice for the unsettling feeling that has settled in her gut.

"Where's HG?"

tbc