Disclaimer: I don't own anything or ever want to own anything related to Warehouse 13 or make any profit as a result of its production. It's provided a platform for the creation and development of my personal world. For that I say thank you.
A/N: Thanks to all comments and reviews. Always appreciated and considered. Keep crying, keep laughing. Without one, you can't have the other.
"Hi, Myka. I was just making up some mulled cider and I think it is just about done. Do you want some?" Abigail offered pulling out a mug from the cupboard.
"Uh, yeah, sure," she answered distracted, frowning. "Is Helena over here? She's not at the house and she's not answering her phone. She left a note this morning saying that she'd be working in the office when she was done at the warehouse." She took the cup, absently setting it down on the counter untouched.
"I think so. She came over awhile ago and I haven't seen her leave. Last I knew she was hanging out in front of the fire with Steve." She pulled out another cup, filling it. "Here. Take this to her. It's her recipe."
"Wait a minute…she gave you her recipe?" Myka turned abruptly, shocked. "No one's ever been able to get that out of her. Not even me, and I have powers of persuasion no one else has."
"We know," Abigail replied dryly, raising her eyebrows. "We all know."
"Really, Abigail? You? Stop thinking like Pete."
"Myka, I have one word for you; Christmas."
Myka grimaced, turning red. "Right. But it's not what you think. I know where she's most ticklish, and it's not a spot you'd normally think of. It's getting to it that's the hard part. Works almost every time. I'd tell you, but she'd kick you down in two seconds and I don't think you want a broken nose." Myka grinned and picked up the cup tasting the cider. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God. She really did gave it up. Is she okay? Did she get whammied this morning?"
"I don't think so." Abigail shrugged. "I didn't realize it was such a secret."
"Big time secret." Myka picked up the other cup heading out to the family room. "My advice is, you take it to your grave or you'll find yourself in one. Just write it down for me first." Myka heard Abigail laugh as the door shut behind her.
Myka strolled into the warm room, careful not to spill the cider, inhaling the comforting smell of the wood fire mixed with the aroma of the spiced cider in her hands. Helena was lying on her stomach stretched out in front of the dying fire, head resting on her arms in front of her. She set the cups on the side table, and pushed the coffee table up against the sofa out of her way making room for the two of them.
"Hey, you. Still awake?" Myka squatted down and placed her hand on the warm back, rubbing it gently, feeling the muscles contract beneath her hand.
"Mmmm. I'm not sure," she mumbled into the cave made by her arms. She turned her head to the side, eyes still closed. "You're back. I was going to help with the groceries, but you'd already left. Steve and I were talking. Claudia and Pete were chasing after each other for some reason. Something about chocolate chip cookies I think. I hope you picked up a bag of chocolate chips. It sounds like I'll be making more very soon."
"No big deal. What are you doing over here? We have our own fireplace you know. Lower maintenance, too. You flip a switch. Got room for me?" She sat down beside the buried head not waiting for an answer.
Helena sat up leaning into the chilled body, opening her mouth for a full welcoming kiss. "Mmmm," she opened her eyes, smiling at the brilliant green reflecting the flames. "You've been drinking cider."
"Your recipe I hear. What's up with that?" Myka got up grabbing the two cups forgotten on the table by the sofa.
"What's the point in having an old secret family recipe if you don't keep it in the family? I have no one else to pass it on to." She smiled impishly taking the cup. "Cheers!" Drinking the cider Helena's eyes opened wide. "Oh, this is good. I do believe Abigail is now officially in charge of mulled cider. She makes it better than I ever did."
Myka put her cup down. She gave Helena a questioning face reaching out to push back some loose hair behind her ear. "I thought you planned on working in the office on the newest and greatest buried somewhere in that mess. We really need to get you another desk."
"I like my desk. I know where everything is," Helena proclaimed proudly in her defense.
"That's what scares me. I meant another one in addition to that one. You need more room and that extra room usually ends up being my desk." Myka nudged her shoulder slightly. "Talk to Artie. We may be able to arrange another furniture swap if you want from London." She paused watching the inventory silently flip through Helena's head. "So why are you over here?"
"Would you believe me if I said it was too quiet at home and I missed the chaotic sounds of stomping feet on the stairs and the constant stream of snide comments and laughter?" she asked with a crooked grin. "And, honestly, I wasn't ready to be alone."
Myka smiled, lying on the floor, pulling the thin woman down with her.
"Actually, yes. Why do you think I stayed here instead of moving back alone? As much as I missed and worried about you when I got here, it was nice to be around that again. Home can be too quiet sometimes." Myka stood up putting two more logs on the cooling fire. "Scoot back. It's going to get hot soon," she said sitting down watching the flicker of flames catch on the new logs.
Helena settled her head in the warm lap, Myka's hand automatically drawn to the thick hair. Helena fought off the sleep inducing action, finally closing her eyes, enjoying the light scrape of nails against her scalp and neck. She'd almost dozed off completely with the heat from the fire and the smell of the burning wood when a race through the house landed Claudia on the sofa screeching with Steve close behind.
"Seriously? Don't you two have a fireplace? 'Cause if this is turning into a make out session…"
"We're just sitting here!" Myka exclaimed to the flames. "Last I knew a certain redhead was complaining we weren't spending enough family time over here." Myka bent her head back looking at Claudia upside down.
"Well, yeah, but I meant with us, not all comfy cozy by yourselves in front of the fire. We were going to watch a movie. How about that family time now or are we interrupting something? 'Cause if that's the case, you're going home." Claudia crawled across the table looking at the two hopefully.
"What's the movie and am I required to move?" Helena asked turning her head slightly, mildly annoyed with the disturbance now, despite her earlier comment.
Claudia beamed as Steve jumped in, "Some moving required, no watching actually required, popcorn definitely required and the movie is Batman Begins."
Smiling at their enthusiasm, Myka looked down at Helena, doubtful, feeling obligated to stay. Helena reluctantly nodded her head. "Go make the popcorn," Myka said reluctantly. "Both of you. We'll readjust the furniture."
Helena sat up as the other two bolted out of the room. With a heavy sigh she said, "I had hoped we could talk about the crate and Artie had his little chat with me."
"And you falling asleep on my lap was doing that how? We can still go home if you want." Myka's eyes brightened hopefully.
"No. We can talk later. We just won't stay for dinner. My arrival a few hours ago negates any decency in saying no. She's been bugging us for this time and Steve was genuinely happy for my company earlier. And, truthfully, we haven't spent a great deal of time with them since Christmas. You, however, do want to say something, don't you?"
"I just didn't want it to wait." They moved the coffee table to accommodate the possible growing crowd and allow themselves maximum cuddle room. "I heard from Dr. Calder this morning."
"Damn it!" Helena hissed when she dropped the table on her foot, looking at Myka concerned.
"I'm fine. Really. Like she said, I'm healthy as a horse and her theory sticks that she thinks the past few months have just been excessively stressful, so start decompressing more. She also said don't be surprised if this month is worse than usual too since our stress levels are still higher. I got lectured again. We need to talk."
Foot forgotten, concern crossed Helena's face immediately.
"It's nothing to worry about and there's no rush," Myka jumped in quickly. "I'm fine." She laughed. "Then she suggested more exercise and, how did she put it? Yeah, more fifty mile phone calls are helpful if for nothing else than relieving stress."
"Who do I kill? Pete or Claudia?" Helena asked in a low growl.
"I vote for Pete. He'll be here soon, and whatever it is, I don't want to know." Claudia placed the bowl of popcorn on the table bouncing onto the sofa, Steve and Abigail close behind with a tray of beverages.
Helena placed her hands flat on the table leaning forward, turned and glared at her. "Don't be so certain of that, my dear girl." Looking up at Myka with worried eyes she asked quietly, "She's sure?"
"Very certain…about everything I discussed with her." Myka's face slowly brightened, meeting her in the middle of the table as a mirror image. "Helena," she said quietly, "we do have options."
"What options?" Claudia asked, putting her feet up on the table, crossing her ankles beneath them. "And can I just say, you make a better door than a window."
"None of your business!" they said in unison glaring at Claudia.
"Geez. Fine." Claudia pushed a bowl of popcorn at them. "Down in front."
"Problem?" Abigail asked sitting down, eyeing the three in visual combat.
"Nope," Claudia answered cheerily, handing a bowl of popcorn over.
Still cold, Helena lay in front of Myka to face the fire, ignoring the previews. Myka's hand started exploring in their small space of semi-privacy. Helena grabbed the roaming hand and turned around in her arms, kissing her tenderly. "We could just go home now." Myka kissed her more deeply, eliciting a slight moan. Three pieces of popcorn landed on them from three different directions.
"Hey. Keep the clothes on or go home," Claudia griped. "It's called 'family' time, meaning G-rated."
Helena laughed, throwing the popcorn back at the sofa. "Oh, Claudia, my poor, darling girl. Trust me when I say clothing has very little to do with anything andI highly doubt this qualifies as a G-rated movie."
"It's PG-13. Abigail and I count as parents, sort of, so kissing is allowed," Steve entered the argument. "But kissing only, as long as you stay up there where we can't see you. And no necks, Myka. She's not that quiet."
Another handful of popcorn scattered around them. Helena savored one last kiss before turning back around. "I have so missed these persecutions disguised as family movie time. We are behaving." More quietly she added for Myka's benefit, "I'd say this movie just turned into your seventy-five miles."
"In your words, quite possibly," Myka softly bit her ear lobe. "Don't think I'm going to make it easy either." She worked her hand under Helena's shirt, lightly racking her nails across her stomach, feeling the contracting muscles and the sudden spreading of goose bumps across the bare skin..
"You are being cruel," Helena growled quietly, quickly grabbing the teasing hand. She turned around facing Myka again, closing her eyes. "Myka, you did pack everything from Tenerife, didn't you?" she whispered in her ear.
"Absolutely…everything," she responded smiling against Helena's lips.
"Good girl. Unfortunately, I fear I just made this movie one hundred miles."
This was new, Myka thought, the side of her face flat against the mattress, a pillow jammed against the headboard. Helena's arms wrapped around her own on either side of her head, her right hand tightly clinging to Helena's, the left held down in a surprisingly firm grasp. She still hesitated in applying too much pressure on Helena's left hand, always allowing her to gauge pressure, fearful of damaging any healing nerves. Her calves were still wrapped by the woman engulfing her. Helena's head remained buried between her shoulder blades, uneven, open mouthed exhalations playing with a lock of hair, tickling her shoulder with each breath. She could almost guarantee they'd be stuck together by the moisture between their bodies.
Eyes closed, Myka chuckled to herself, slightly jiggling the weight on top of her. Yep, they were stuck together. Maybe Helena was wrong and they really were bonking bunnies. She tried to let go of the slender hands, meeting resistance.
"Sweetie, what happened to talking after the movie?" she asked laughing into the bed.
"Someone has roaming hands and shops well in foreign countries. How did the movie end?" Helena mumbled into Myka's back, nuzzling the sweet spot she loved so much and settled her head back, closing her eyes.
"I have no idea. I assume the bad guys lost," Myka said before clearing her throat. "Speaking of shopping trips…"
"Not sure. Side of bed I think. Didn't keep track." Helena turned her head to the other side staring at the glowing light from the bathroom.
"Mmm. I remember. I was here." She chuckled into the mattress wondering exactly what never got written into those journals. "Then you had different ideas. Not that I'm complaining. Far from it." She grunted, feeling the pressure from above on her lower back. "Honey, I really love this, but we're getting stuck to each other and you're getting a little heavy. My back is starting to hurt."
At first she thought the shaking on top of her was the beginnings of a giggle fit and was ready to bounce her lover off until she felt her hands squeezed with enormous strength and felt the first warm drops of tears run down her shoulder. She quickly tried to crawl out from underneath the emotional transformation, cringing at the release of skin but was unable to move her hands.
"Let go," Myka said calmly.
Helena released the hands immediately, almost limp now. Myka sat up against the cold headboard as Helena quickly straddled her lap, head dropping heavily on her shoulder, sobbing. At first confused, Myka's arms enveloped her waiting for a moment of calm when the realization stabbed her in the gut.
Suddenly, the most indescribable, unearthly, inhuman sound ever born from the human soul grew from the deepest, darkest recesses of an unimaginable depth. It wasn't a scream or a wailing of any kind Myka had ever experienced before and surpassed anything she ever heard on a documentary. It shattered all of space and time, resonating through her body from the tortured creature in her arms. One that was beyond all reason and sense of existence grasping the headboard, shaking it with unknown strength, knuckles white, reaching to hold onto a single strand of humanity.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Just let it go. Let it go. I've got you. I promise." Myka dropped her head on Helena's convulsing shoulder, sobbing now with the raw pain and rage she felt, allowing the process to reach its final destination. "You've held onto it long enough. Let it go." She held her loosely and rested a hand on the violent head, protecting its forehead from the wall behind them, waiting for exhaustion to take over.
Time stopped. Myka held on through the beating of fists on the wall, the occasional attempt of a head, the constant wailing of a sound she never wanted to hear again. As the clock started to tick again they managed to slip down the headboard and back to the bed, Helena's sobbing continuing into Myka's neck until a yawn took over that over-stretched her jaw, making it pop.
"Oww," she whimpered, breathing through her mouth. Myka stretched across the bed returning with the tissue box. "I'm sorry. I don't understand." Tears still falling, she blew her nose and burrowed into Myka's neck again discovering the mess she'd left behind. "I'm sorry," she started crying again, trying to wipe Myka clean.
Myka stopped the hand of crumpled tissues and grabbed the sheet, wiping herself off and gently replacing Helena's head. "I think the sheets were pretty much a lost cause already. I don't think a little snot is going to make a difference."
She blew her nose again, adding to the growing pile of tissues. "I don't understand, Myka. Why? Where did that come from? God, my head is pounding."
"You don't know? Oh, sweetie. After all these years of tightly controlled restraint and redirection, it all finally broke," Myka stated. "I don't ever want to feel that much pain from you again. I don't know how you did it. You never broke after she died, did you?"
"Like you said, I redirected, and very poorly, too. Why now, out of nowhere?" she cried.
She cradled the smaller woman, rocking her with the returning sobs. "I think I know and I'm pretty sure you do too. It's not just out of nowhere. There are no coincidences. You've literally opened up the past." She waited patiently for the unpredictable silence. Sensing the final calm, Myka got up, the pile of tissues falling to the floor, and started dressing. She looked up at Helena still in the middle of the bed. She leaned in caressing the side of her wet face. "Come on. Can you get dressed?" She kissed her forehead and handed her some clothes. "We're not bringing this into our bedroom. There's enough here already. Uh, don't freak out when you see the blood on your chest; it's mine." She winced at the sight.
She looked down at herself before pulling on the sweatshirt looking back at Myka with shock and confusion.
"Really, Helena?" She laughed lightly, her head pounding from her own tears. "You actually have to think that one through?" She pulled the back of her shirt up, revealing the long red stripes down her back as she waited at the door. "It's okay. Don't look so upset." She crawled back on the bed tucking Helena's arms through the sweatshirt, and pulling her hair out the back. She smiled sadly when Helena dropped her head on her shoulder again and stroked her back gently. "It's nothing new and you know it. I'm fine. You haven't scarred me yet. Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." She smiled. "Come on. This sounds really lame, but we have strawberry ice cream."
She felt the weak shaking of laughter through the body in her arms breaking the tension.
"Myka, I…"
"Hush. Finish your ice cream. It's strawberry." Myka poked her spoon at her from the opposite side of the sofa.
"But I'm cold," she answered weakly just short of a whine. "And my head hurts."
Myka took their bowls into the kitchen returning with a glass of milk and the bottle of ibuprofen. She grabbed a blanket as Helena drained the glass and set it on the table. Helena lay down, backing up in the sofa making room for Myka, getting covered with the blanket.
"I am so sorry…" Helena started feeling a finger against her lips.
"Don't ever apologize for that. Part of me never wants to experience that again, but the other part, the real part, never wants you to hold back again. Claudia warned us. We knew none of this would be a pain free process. How's your head?"
"It's been better."
"I'm sorry." She kissed the sticky forehead. "I don't know how else to start this. Want to tell me why you suddenly decided to open it up and then just quickly packed it up this morning while I was sleeping? I thought you might have wanted to share a little more than just a glance." She waited patiently, gazing into still red rimmed eyes.
"You said, yes," she said simply, shrugging.
"I said yes." Myka traced the lips in front of her gazing into the deep brown of uncertainty. A hint of a smile curled the side of her mouth. "Yes, I did. I said yes." She paused for a moment. "So you decided it was time to open Christina's crate because I said yes."
"You deserve an answer in return. Until I face her, Myka, I won't know. You know that. I don't understand how or why that crate is here, but it is."
"And it's contributing to Artie's problem, not to mention affecting us."
"It would appear so, but we've always known that, haven't we? Myka, why did you tell me, and why then? You were gone before I got to the bedroom door. I do miss the loft sometimes."
"The loft. You're complaining about not having a loft anymore? Are you avoiding the crate now?"
"Not at all. It was merely a comment. It was much easier to yell over a wall from the bed than stumble to a door, trapped in a sheet, to be heard. You asked why I opened it and I'm telling you why I did. I'm asking why you chose that moment to tell me."
Groaning slightly, Myka sat up. "Sorry. I need to sit up, honey. Can I get in the corner? You really were starting to hurt my back." She stretched out her arms, bending over to stretch her back. "God. Is this what it's like to get old? Your wife can't sleep on you? That just sucks."
Helena ran her hands down the long back. "I wouldn't know. I'm only 37."
Myka turned her head around. "Riiight. Want to boost that just a little? I don't care what your passport says and you're still older than me. Who did you flirt with for that anyway?"
"I resent that. They asked me how old I was so I told them. It's not my fault no one never bothered to go back and figure out if it was right." She dug her thumbs into the tightening muscles. "I am sorry. It isn't the best thing for one's back. It's just so…comfy. You like it too! You just like the front more."
"I don't have a preference. I like both sides," she countered at the doubting look she received. "I told you because you wanted to know without a discussion. We started a dialogue that morning, a conversation. That was enough for me. I thought you would need time on your own to process that a little before we talked more. Am I wrong? You're the one that wanted to know without the discussion."
"So, essentially you decided not only to answer my question, but also make your point about not talking about it by leaving me wondering exactly what the Hell just happened. I underestimate you sometimes. That's something I would have done. However, you were right about needing the time to think. Next time may I suggest you not do it after you've left me in such a state though?"
Myka just smiled down at her smugly. "Kind of the icing on the cake. Glowing much? You could light up our whole house sometimes."
"You really have been with me too long. Look at you, so proud of yourself. Like you're any different," Helena said.
Myka rested her head back, closing her eyes, willing the headache to ease, unconsciously playing with the hair in her lap. "Why did you pack it back up so quickly? I think you need to open it again."
"Why?" Helena sat up quickly, cringing against the searing pain in her head rebelling against the quick movement. "What purpose could it possibly serve beyond memories? I already have plenty of those."
Softly pushing Helena's head back down, rubbing the creases from the pained forehead, Myka shrugged. "I don't know. That's why we need to open it again. I think there's a reason it's here and so do you. Otherwise," she looked down at her, tapping her nose, "you wouldn't have opened it. This way, I also know I'm not going to end up throwing up somewhere on the side of the road. And selfishly, maybe, I hoped it would be something you'd want to share with me. It's a part of your life you seldom share with me, and that's starting to catch up with us. I don't expect you to share every part of your life with me, but this, Helena, is becoming a huge part. I always knew you had to make the decision and open it alone, but you shared more with Steve than you ever have with me that night. Maybe I'm just jealous."
Helena reached up touching the side of the uncertain face. "No, Myka, I didn't. I knew you were there the entire time. What I shared with him I was telling you. He was the conduit. You will always know more than anyone. This is something that will take time and you're the one that takes that journey with me. There is no need for you to be jealous of that place Steve and I connect. Ours is so much more. Reality is, I don't know who her father was and never will. It's not something I'm proud of. I would have liked to be able to tell her who her father was. I only know my preference would have been Robert. He at least I had some fondness for."
"It's never something we ever talk about. I have as many questions as anyone, probably more. I just always hoped you'd tell me on your own, but I think they are becoming more important, especially if we are considering a family. Not to mention we're sharing dreams about her."
Ignoring her aching head, Helena swung around on the sofa onto her knees facing Myka. "I promise you this, Myka, I will answer any question you ask. Just remember, it was a different time then and I was in many ways a very different person. But please take care, for I do not want to go through what I just experienced again, nor do I want you to experience it with me."
"There are no guarantees, but I think you're okay for now. I think it's part of the process. Just like the damned nightmares that won't go away. We'll get through it somehow. Remember? Bering and Wells."
"Wells and Being," Helena retorted calmly, crawling under the misplaced blanket and settling into Myka's side.
"Just for tonight," Myka hugged her closer, rolling her eyes when she heard a quiet, "Maybe."
"The Regents don't trust me do they?" Helena asked softly. "Are they really that afraid I'll go off the deep end again or drag you with me? It doesn't seem fair all these restrictions."
"No." Myka turned her head around confused. "Where did you get that idea? What did Artie say to you?" She rolled her eyes shaking her head. "Ugh, he never does this stuff right. I told him I should be the one to tell you or at least be there. I knew he'd screw it up."
"Well, I'm on probation, they want my head sifted through again, and they seem to have some concerns regarding my stability. Afraid I'll try to blow up the world again?" she added sarcastically.
Sighing, Myka rested her head against the one settled on her shoulder. "No. That's not it at all. They are afraid of what they did to you. To us. They know there is no way we can come out of that unscathed. You didn't. We didn't. But mostly you. Until recently, you didn't have a working hand. I see your fingers still shake and I see you rub the top of your hand. We both know it's unlikely you'll write left-handed again. We'll always hold that hope, but reality is you will probably never have that fine motor control back." She took the hand in her own, rubbing her thumb across the top and caressed her jaw. "I know your jaw aches in the cold and so does your shoulder. Your left arm goes numb easily and I still catch you rubbing the bump on that collarbone." Helena turned her head around in surprise. "You don't even know you do it. Every time I touch that spot you tense for a split second. I found myself avoiding it, but I won't. One day you'll just be able to lay back and enjoy it. We will always have our scars. They can't ignore that and Jane will never let them forget."
"You need to remember," she continued, "when I asked for my job back and you finally came home, you didn't show any interest in going out there. But they want you - badly. They want both of us. Not just for us but as a package deal for some reason. That's what Artie and Mrs. Frederic argued about with them. Artie and Mrs. Frederic are trying to protect you and at the same time give you the chance to decide for yourself where you belong. They know you won't protect yourself. He never wanted to push you into something you didn't want. The Regents pushed and he said no until you offered to go out for me. Artie worries about you. He knows you have nightmares. He doesn't want to add to them. As far as the head digging goes, we all know what a stubborn ass you can be and want you to have a chance to use Abigail as a resource when you may otherwise ignore it. I agree. I have the same stipulations, so don't feel singled out. He didn't tell you that, did he? It's an adjustment coming back. Artie and Mrs. Frederic don't care if you and Abigail sit and stare at each other or go for a walk and talk about baseball. They want to make sure you don't fall through the cracks because you're being sent out and ignoring something that may really be an issue. You know Abigail isn't going to push. Hell, as far as she's concerned she's happy drinking cider and eating chocolate chip cookies. So as far as you being on 'probation', it's Artie's and Mrs. Frederic's way of taking care of their own. Not just you but me. I'm basically on probation too. Do you have any idea how worried I was with you going out there? Stupid really, considering what you were doing before Christmas," she laughed bitterly. "It's different for us. It'll always be more difficult for us to watch the other walk out the door than everyone else. It always has been. It's just never said."
"And are we each other's Achille's heel?"
"Probably. But honestly, Helena, I don't think we'll ever know until we're in that position. I don't think any of us know. For me, I'd have as hard a time choosing you over Pete or anyone else here. That's why we are all so special. We work as a team and function as a family. None of us could live with ourselves if we had to choose someone. We'd die trying to save both. And I know you answered that question pretty damn close to how I did."
"Then what is their issue with children? Why even bring it up? We've mentioned it to no one. Not that we're any closer to a decision mind you, but honestly," Helena added disgusted.
"I don't think they really have an issue per se. I think it's just an unknown and they don't know what to think." Myka snorted softly. "As far as I'm concerned, we're in control of that one. We have plenty of concerns of our own with bringing a child into OUR lives to worry about what the Hell they think. As to why they bring it up now? My guess is because we've been together long enough and survived so much shit that it finally crossed someone's mind as a possibility. If you think about it, we've been together longer than a lot of marriages."
"Do you want to be the new Artie?" Helena turned her head, looking seriously at her.
"I don't know. I'll never be Artie."
"Maybe that's a good thing. God knows we don't need two of those. And we both know he will not be going anywhere anytime soon."
"That's for sure. Did he tell you why?" Myka asked hesitantly.
"Which part? The Regents' grand design for your future or his intended nuptials with our lovely Vanessa?" Helena laughed.
"Guess that answers that question." Myka scrunched her face up. "It feels weird."
"What feels weird?"
"Knowing the Regents always had that in mind for me, especially since I had absolutely no intention on staying," Myka said adamantly.
"Maybe it's not so much the Regents' choice as it is the warehouse's."
"I never thought of it that way. What do you think? Should I say yes? I'm being asked to take a position in which I'll need to make difficult decisions that involve you. I'm not sure I can do that."
"I know. I also know you'll decide what you think is best. As long as it does not enter the confines of our home. Can we manage that?" She paused, giving Myka time for her question sink in. "When do they want an answer?"
"I think everyone is hoping for Area HG to go away first. He didn't say. He just said take all the time I wanted, but he wants his own Claudia if for no other reason than to have a backup and he doesn't want Pete." They both laughed at that idea. "He wants it to be a joint decision for us and understands you need to find your own footing here again."
"Then I think we have time." She heard an obnoxious sound in the background. "Oh, why does that thing always interrupt us? You're answering it this time. Do you get your own if you become Artie 2?" she called, settling down under the blanket as Myka ran to the office, ignoring the faint conversation from above.
"We need to finish this conversation later. Claudia says we need to get over to the warehouse ASAP."
"Does that girl ever sleep? It's nearly ten o'clock. Have we not been handed enough for one day?" She threw the blanket aside sitting up and rubbing her forehead. "My head is still pounding."
Myka grabbed their coats and threw a bottle at her. "Take some more ibuprofen. I know you're tired, but this sounds like a Bering & Wells thing."
"I thought we agreed Wells & Bering for tonight," she said before swallowing the pills. "Let me guess. Doom and Gloom?"
"Sort of." Myka took a deep breath, dreading her next words. "We don't need to worry about opening Christina's crate again. Someone did it for us."