Disclaimer: I still don't own any part of Warehouse 13 and honestly, I really don't want to. It's much more fun to play with the toys and put them back to play with later.

A/N:Thanks to all comments and reviews. Always appreciated and considered. Keep crying, keep laughing. Without one, you can't have the other.

Even with the artificial lighting, Myka couldn't remember ever seeing her so pale before, except once; the first time she saw her after Quebec, beneath the bruised flesh, so small and broken in the hospital bed. For a moment she wasn't sure if she'd be holding her up in a second, but she merely walked forward into the center, sitting down on the floor. The cloud above was dark and turbulent, discharges flashing to the outskirts of the area. They'd met Claudia and Artie near the gate, unable to enter. No one said a thing. Not even a greeting. Myka turned sharply towards them, mouth already opening.

"Before you ask, this is what happened," Claudia interrupted, now sitting on the floor, her hands held up in protest of the surge of questions she knew Myka was going to spew at them. "Artie and I were closing up shop when the alarms went off and all the flashy lights started spinning. We didn't see anything. There is nothing on the tapes. A whole ten minutes is just black and then this. There is no sign of activity anywhere else and all cameras around here are clean. So it's not likely to be an intruder and seriously, if someone wanted to break in I really think that," she motioned towards the section, "would really be pretty low on the list. It's only important to her."

"That we know of," Artie added. "That in itself could be enough," he grumbled.

Claudia turned around to look at him. "No. Just trust me on this, Artie. I know and don't ask how I know. I just do. The Regents said no one is left lingering in the deep, dark, underground for her."

"Are we sure about that?" Myka snapped.

"Pretty darn sure. I've searched pretty deep," she looked at Artie anxiously ignoring his scolding gaze, "and kind of illegally into certain files that I'm not really supposed to look at…and yeah, I'm pretty sure they aren't lying about that. Besides, she won't let anyone else in without one of you with us. She sure as Hell isn't going to let anyone else in."

Pulling Claudia up by an arm, Artie continued concerned, "We'll double-check everything, but I tend to agree with my hacker happy friend here on this one. I'll let Mrs. Frederic know just in case the Regents are holding out on us. She'll want to know anyway, if she doesn't already. We have no answers…yet! But you should be safe. Keep the Farnsworth close and we'll be up monitoring. Let us know at the SLIGHTEST bit of anything abnormal."

Trying not to laugh, Myka just stared at him. "It's the warehouse, Artie. There is no such thing as normal here." She squeezed the bridge of her nose and rubbed her eyes. "Can you call Abigail for me and give her a heads up? She's…we've had a rough night. I may need her help with this one. I'm not sure how much more I can deal with on my own tonight." Tears started to form in her eyes, unable to place a wall between herself and the pain she was feeling from Helena.

Claudia stood up, looking at the frozen form in the center of the organized mess. "Yeah, first thing. Anything you can share? I mean about the rest of the night. Things seemed pretty, uh…"

Annoyed and frustrated Myka spit at the girl, "Yes, Claudia, I know how things were when we left! I was kind of responsible for it. Some things and emotions trigger other things when you least expect it." Myka crossed her arms in front of them, defensively. Claudia backed away at the harshness of Myka's voice. Tired and already emotionally drained from the evening, Myka dropped her shoulders in defeat, sighing, and her tears close to breaking. "I'm sorry, Claud. We're tired. In more ways than you can possibly imagine and now we have to deal with something that's just way more than we need."

Quietly, Artie backed away from the two. Claudia placed a hand on Myka's shoulder. "It's okay. Just remember, I probably have a better idea about this stuff here than you think. Don't forget you're not alone. You've still got all of us. I'll go call Abigail." She gave Myka a hug before skipping off after Artie.

"I'm such an ass sometimes," Myka mumbled walking into the center of the organized mess. She sat next to Helena waiting for her to speak. After a quarter hour she finally broke the silence. "It's been rearranged. One of the books is missing." She stood up looking, finding the book sitting in the bottom of the crate. She picked it up, frowning. "Why The Time Machine?" she asked into the silence.

"I think she knew," Helena said in a dead voice.

"Huh? Who knew what?" Myka asked confused by the statement.

"Christina. Somehow she knew it wasn't really her Uncle's story."

Sitting back down next to Helena with the book, she thumbed through it slowly, skeptical and slightly confused. "Okay. What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling," Helena said emotionless. "I can't explain it. Perhaps she heard us arguing over it. We argued constantly over that book. He made such a big deal over it with her. He had no right," she continued bitterly. "She was MY daughter and there is no idea of his between those covers. He was the one that started reading it to her one weekend when I was away, leaving me no choice but to continue. He stole that from me as well. I made it quite clear to him on more than one occasion that she was too young and would have it read to her when she was able to understand why it was his name on the cover. Perhaps I am just a silly, old, selfish fool that wished her daughter knew the truth."

Wrapping an arm around her, Myka accepted the heavy weight of burden leaning against her. "I'm starting to not like this story so much anymore. We don't have to stay here," she said softly, looking up at the calming cloud. "I think this can wait if you want and the storm seems to be settling."

"No. We're here and there must be a reason for this. There's no point in crying over what never was and never will be. I just don't know what to do now that we are here. Why? What is the point of all this? Everything is arranged differently. I don't see a pattern. It's not chronological or even alphabetical and why not that stupid book?" Abruptly, she crawled over the floor grabbing the other book. "Myka, this one's open." She stared at Myka confused, afraid to look at the open pages.

Discarding the disputed book to the side, waiting for her to let go, Myka carefully extracted the book from Helena's tight grasp. Myka hesitated. "Do you want me to?" The book was released and the weight settled again against her side. She hated this book now. Taking a deep breath she let it out slowly, reading the page. "The Mad Hatter." She glanced at the still body against her. "His riddle, 'Why is a raven like a writing desk?'."

Helena chuckled sadly. "She constantly pestered me for the answer. She struggled for hours to figure it out. The point is there is no answer. Did you know that? It wasn't until after much harassment that he came up an answer to that riddle. He never intended there to be one. After all, the Mad Hatter was mad, along with everyone else, at least according to the Cheshire Cat. It was all just nonsense. If I recall correctly, next comes 'Twinkle, twinkle little bat! How I wonder where you're at!'."

Setting the book down carefully, Myka pushed it away from her, watching it with distrust. "Yeah, not really my favorite story."

Helena laughed for real this time. "So I've been told. I do agree with Pete, though; you are one Hell of a kisser. He was very sure to inform me of that detail, among others." She laughed again watching Myka's face transform into disgust. "Who did you think told me about that particular incident? And why, if I may ask, have I never had the pleasure of seeing you in that dress? I know you still have it. Perhaps we should consider playing Alice in Wonderland one day. I'm sure we can find our own land of wonders if we tried hard enough." She burst out into a full belly laugh watching Myka's face turn different shades of red.

"That wasn't really me!" Myka protested. "Why would he tell you those…things?"

"I don't actually recall the specifics, but I think you pissed him off and I'd been caught staring at your lovely backside too long with a silly grin on my face. In short, I'd say childish revenge. I did, however, file it away in the back of my head for future use." She chuckled a little longer. "I am sorry, darling. Unfortunately, it was Christina's favorite. I never quite understood her attraction to it myself. That book is why I have that scar on the top of my foot," she said disgruntled.

"Her rampage and the tea?"

"Oh, yes. She was running through the house screaming 'Do cat's eat bats?'. We had just started reading it. No matter." She picked up the book, shutting it and returning it to its place.

"And the rest?"

"Quite obvious I'd think; her favorite toys, cradle, a pointless birth certificate. The doll I imagined her with when we were in Egypt. Not a fond memory there I'm sure for either of us. Noah's ark? I'm not entirely sure. I don't remember it being one she was overly fond of. Perhaps just a remnant. A gift from Caturanga, as was the horse. One of the few not from Charles or myself. Charles insisted she be baptized. Yet another reminder of my transgressions. He was right, though. I just wanted her to have as normal and happy a childhood as she could have. Despite that wish, I never thought of the warehouse as an alteration to that desire. What a fool I was."

"I don't think so," Myka whispered hugging her closer. "You gave her love. What else could a child need more of?"

Helena laughed bitterly, pulling out of Myka's arm. "Stability, consistency, protection…life."

Unsure of her next move after the physical withdrawal, Myka pulled her knees up, hugging her legs tightly. She rested her cheek on her knees watching Helena's profile. "Oh, Helena, can no one convince you that you gave her all of that?" She tentatively reached a hand out, stroking a damp cheek with the back of her hand. "You gave her your best and more. Am I wrong to think you challenged her and taught her to seek beyond the possible? To be the very best she could be? To be more than what the world expected her to be?"

Helena wiped the silent tears away from her face. She crawled in front of Myka, leaning back against her legs and further still when the legs wrapped around her body, arms enfolding her loosely. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against Myka's shoulder. She reached behind her lightly touching the other side of Myka's face.

"If only she could be here now," she spoke softly into Myka's ear, releasing her face and smiled. "She would have loved you. You would most definitely have been a challenge for her. I admit I was a bit more indulgent than you'd have been. I fear my hands would have been very full managing the two of you. What a different life she would have had. Not one but two protectors. More love than I could have ever imagined for her. More family than she could have ever wanted." She chuckled lightly. "The darling child would have never had a chance to have any fun getting in trouble or else have too many allies in the pursuit of trouble. Why was I given another chance for happiness when hers was so brutally stolen from her?"

"There are no answers to questions like that, Helena. You of all people should know that. She was blessed with the time she had with you, as you were with hers. I know I am."

"I can feel you thinking," Myka said after a quiet interlude.

"This other child we continue to debate; is that left to the fates as well?"

"Honey, the way we'd go about to even try to have it? Yeah. I'd say it's definitely up to the fates. You know as well as I do the odds of it even happening no matter what we want."

"In that case, if it is to be, and I'm not saying it will be attempted, I'd very much want that child to know who its father is, as would I."

"I think I can understand that." Myka held her more tightly against her

Pulling her head away Helena turned her head to find soft eyes watching her closely. "Do you? Do you honestly, Myka?"

"The best I can do is try to understand and respect your wish. It's not without its own set of complications, but certainly not beyond our powers."

"What have you not told me?" She bent her head looking curiously into the equally tired face next to hers.

"So far, in this discussion, probably a lot. Do you really want to talk about it here? In the middle of all this?" Myka spread her arms wide towards the fragments of the past. "Because, to be honest, I really don't want to talk about that here."

"No. You're right. I don't. Can we please go home now? My head is still pounding and I am so very tired."

Standing up, Myka helped her exhausted partner up, holding her up all the way to the office. Artie and Claudia were arguing when they entered. Silence dropped from the ceiling in a dead weight.

"Hey, Myka, HG…going home? We can't find anything from here. We're on our way out, aren't we, Artie?"

"What's going on?" Myka asked suspiciously. "You're still not very good at hiding things."

"Uh, nothing. What makes you think that?" Claudia shifted her feet.

"You are arguing again," Helena interjected, sitting heavily on the free chair. "Out with it. I am very tired and not leaving until you explain yourselves. Does it have to do with that mess?"

Claudia glared at Artie, looking between HG and Myka. "No. We got a ping and with Pete in Tokyo, he," she jabbed a finger in his shoulder, "wants to send HG out. I think it's a bad idea."

"No offense, Claud, but I think this is for the three of us to discuss," Myka said.

"No, it is not," Helena declared. "It is for Artie to decide and I agree," Helena nodded her head.

"What?" Claudia and Myka turned on her.

"Can it wait until tomorrow morning, Artie?" Helena asked through a yawn.

"Later actually. I need to get you out there. You'll go with Steve to New York City. It's an easy trip and it's just a quick artifact switch at MOMA if you're ready. If not, then Claudia can go. She could always use a lesson in the arts."

Claudia glared at him ready to retort with another snide comment.

"Alright then. That's settled. I go." She looked up into the concerned green eyes. "Myka, I need sleep and ask that you take me home. I need you right now, please."

"Helena, how can you even think of going out there like this? You're exhausted and this evening has been pretty much Hell," Myka ranted pacing the office now.

"That is exactly why I wish to do this." Helena reached a hand out, stopping Myka's pacing. Very calmly she looked deep into the worried green eyes, a firm grasp on her arm. Very calmly and with great deliberation that left no doubts in anyone's mind, she spoke directly to a place only they existed. "I need to get away from here and I need to do what I am meant to do. Please. I am asking for your support in this, Myka. However, if need be, I will go just the same and argue with you later when I get back. I will not do that now. Yes, I am tired, but I can sleep on the plane and Steve will do any driving. I need this emotional reprieve and I need to be a functioning part of this team outside of these walls. Do you not merely understand me but do you hear me as well? Feel me, Myka." Her eyes never left Myka's.

A slow, uneven breath left Myka's body as she held Helena's burning gaze. "Yes," she said simply, still holding their eyes together. "Everything here is okay?" she asked, her eyes still fixed on Helena's.

"As far as we can tell," Claudia grumbled, unhappy. "We'll keep monitoring."

Breaking eye contact Helena relaxed. "Good. Myka will pack it all up tomorrow, if that is acceptable, Artie? I see no need for it to remain strewn across the floor." Helena stood up, linking her arm with Myka's, leaning heavier on her arm than she showed.

Standing quietly and uncomfortably to the side, his hands jammed in his pockets, he looked up, startled. "Yeah. Fine. Meet Steve at breakfast. Everything is arranged. You leave here at nine. And, um, bring us back some bagels, will you?"

They remained silent on the short trip home through the starless night. Helena went straight to the refrigerator and poured a glass of milk, draining most of it in three, uncharacteristic gulps. Myka leaned back against the front door watching the woman wander aimlessly in the kitchen, pouring a second glass.

"Do you want me to warm that for you?" Myka asked quietly from the side of the table.

Nearly dropping the glass, Helena turned sharply, staring at her in the dim light from the base of the stairs, unable to compose any clear features in the shadows. She quickly squelched the instant panic of the unknown as her brain processed the voice. "No. This is fine," she said shakily. "I'm unsettled and still fighting this heinous headache."

Nodding her head slightly, Myka bit her lip. "Are you sure you're really up to this? Leaving tomorrow? I'd feel better if I heard an okay from Abigail, BUT," she stopped the impending argument, "it is your decision and I understand why you need to get back out there. You need a sense of normality. I get that." She laughed softly. "Funny, what we consider normal around here." She watched the person in front of her, almost unrecognizable with tension, finish the second glass of milk and set it in the dishwasher. She held out her hand waiting for the cold fingers to grasp her own. "We're going to need to buy a cow the way you're going through milk. Who knew? HG Wells, guzzling milk. Let's get you to bed, Champ."

Myka quickly undressed while Helena sat on the edge of the bed taking conscious, deep, even breaths. She came up behind her, pulling off the sweatshirt she'd dressed her in earlier and kissed the tops of her shoulders. "Hmm. I really gave you my Manchester United sweatshirt? If I'm not careful, I'll lose that one to you too. Jeans please," she softly reminded her, kneading the shoulders in front of her while the woman pulled off her remaining clothes. Pulling back the covers, Myka gently pushed her down on the bed. Two arms suddenly reached around her neck, pulling her into a deep kiss. Pushing herself up, she smiled down at the uncertain brown eyes. "I thought you were tired?"

"I am. I'm just…"

"I know. Close your eyes," Myka commanded softly, settling in beside her. She stroked the forehead above the unwilling eyes. Lowering her hand, she covered Helena's eyes. "Close your eyes." Satisfied, her hand followed the contours of Helena's face, tracing her lips, following her jaw line back to her ear. Eyes opened again. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked kissing each eye shut.

"I can think of at least ten things right now," Helena tried smiling through a yawn.

"I already have a plan." She feathered kisses across the tired face, ending again with each eye. Raising herself higher, she traced a path down the slender neck, down her sternum, returning to cross her collarbone. She frowned at the slight tension when she circled the slight rise of the plate under the skin. She traced it again lovingly, waiting for Helena to relax.

"Ordinarily I wouldn't recommend that," Helena whispered.

"It's called counter conditioning. One day this will never bother you again and it will be everything it was for you and more." Myka circled the area once more and left it with a warm kiss before lying down and pulling the smaller body against her. She kissed her forehead, stroking her head, feeling the twitching of relaxing muscles in the body against her and settling into the easy, calm breaths of sleep. "Sleep well, sweetie," she said before her hand stopped, fingers buried deep within the dark hair.

It had been a long time since she sat here staring at that crate; the letters 'Christina Wells' mocking her. Yet, in some ways it felt like she had never stopped. She rubbed her tired face, pulling the skin down as she looked up at the continually erratic cloud. She thought they'd made progress. It had quieted, stopped discharging into the surrounding areas and had even cleared some. Now it was dark again, erratic with explosive shocks.

They'd made so much progress. Communication and clarification were growing. They were reconnecting emotionally, mentally and physically. She blushed remembering their early morning. Despite the inerrant fatigue, Helena had woken nearly insatiable and demanding, but also painfully generous and indulgent, she equally so, following them into the kitchen, delaying Helena's departure with Steve. That freaky thing was back, stronger than before. Slowly a future together was formulating. Sure, it wasn't perfect. They could see the barriers and acknowledged the pieces of the walls, but they were working towards a goal. She unconsciously sought out her ring, surprising herself to find it naked. That had to change. What else had changed? The opening of the crate. That's what had changed. Was it just a case of three steps forward and one back?

Standing up with heavy feet she banged her head against the crate she'd just nailed closed. It always came back to this. She knew that first day she and Claudia found it. The skies had rumbled then.

"Packed up again I see?"

Myka nearly fell, saving herself with the same crate she had physically abused herself with.

"I'm really going to have to get used to that if I follow Artie into the deep, aren't I?" Myka laughed nervously.

"You and I both know what your answer is for Artie," Mrs. Frederic said pragmatically.

"Pardon me for saying this, but it's not that simple."

"Oh, but it is. Your decision has already been made. It's merely waiting for you to catch up and find the answer. She will follow you whatever you find. She knows what the answer is. She too waits for you to catch up. She's never loved anyone as much as she does you."

Laughing harshly, Myka patted the crate. "I wouldn't be too sure of that."

"That is a past that never will be, not a future that is meant to be. The love of a mother can never be compared to the love of a partner and lover. She was meant to love you both."

"Are you saying I'm jealous of her?" Myka asked surprised by her own question.

"Perhaps. The real question is whom are you jealous of? Christina or HG." She sat on the crate watching the wheels spin in Myka's head. "Neither would want the other to not have the best of what they could have. I don't think I need to tell you just how vehemently HG feels her emotions. She laughs as hard as she cries, and loves as ardently as she hates. That passion is one of the things that attracted you in the first place. You, however, have tempered it, perhaps just a bit. She is right about one thing, though," she mused.

"Helena?"

"Christina would have loved you." The older woman offered a rare smile. "It's yet another obstacle, but I don't think you need me to tell you that or you wouldn't be banging your head on that crate." She looked above at the dark cloud, standing. "I am sorry for all the distress this is causing, but it will sort out. Now, if you'll excuse me, Artie and I need to have a chat. And Myka, don't forget about Claudia. There are many points in this vast universe working in conjunction and it shall prove to be very strong."

"What points?" Myka almost yelled to the retreating back.

"I don't know the answer to that question. It's not my universe. It's yours."

"No wonder Claudia gets so frustrated," Myka banged her head back against the crate sliding down to the floor. Looking up at the approaching footsteps, she watched Claudia stop abruptly at the gate. "How did I know? I think you're safe, Claudia. You can come in."

"You sure? 'Cause there was no way I was getting in last night and things up top still don't look too friendly." She cautiously entered only getting a grumble above for her troubles. "That can't be good for your head."

"I take it Mrs. Frederic sent you?" she asked waiting for Claudia to settle down on the floor in front of her.

"Huh? Haven't seen her. Why? Was she just here?" She looked around her expecting to find the woman lurking over her shoulder.

"Yeah, cryptic as ever. Hey, I'm sorry I was such a jerk last night. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"Yeah, well, you were pretty stressed, but thanks. Artie wants you to kind of lead the machine with Steve and HG. They landed. He said it's time for you to start getting your hands dirty."

Myka looked at her hands from packing the crate up and laughed, showing her palms to the woman across from her. "I'd say they're plenty dirty. I haven't even said yes, yet."

"Well, you know, he still wants a second in command kind of thing. So what did happen last night? It's okay if you can't say."

"Here or home?"

"Either or both. Kind of know what happened here. She knows something, doesn't she?"

"Who? Helena?" Claudia nodded. "I don't know, Claud. Part of me thinks yes and she's not saying and the other part thinks she's flying blind."

"And the freaky thing isn't telling you?"

"It doesn't work that way, Claud. I can't explain how it works. It just…"

"I know. It just is."

"I don't know that she knows something so much as she...senses something. It's weird. I've never felt this from her before so I can't really put it together. I'm beginning to get an idea of what Pete means when he says his vibe gets mixed up. Maybe we should ask him."

"And home?" Claudia prodded gently.

"Not for me to say. Sorry. That's crossing those boundaries we talked about." She smiled sympathetically, squeezing Claudia's hand quickly. She never thought she'd live in a place she shared with only one person before.

"Nightmares?"

"Not stopping are you?" She sighed. "Let's see. Sporadic since she opened this. I think she was talking to Christina in her sleep again last night. Funny, when she talks to her, we don't have the dream. I hear her beg 'not tonight'. She doesn't remember. Who knows, maybe I'm talking to her too and don't remember. It's kind of creepy." She wrinkled her nose.

"'The dream'. Still the same then?"

"They've never really ever been the same. It's more like the same thing from different perspectives. We haven't really compared notes lately. I think we're afraid to. We just muddle through the nights. For me, the most I remember is holding Christina against me and calling for Helena. She's stuck at the end of the aisle with her back to us, staring into the dark where the screaming is coming from. Sometimes she walks away, sometimes she runs to us, but falls off, like off of a cliff or something. And Christina's just crying. She actually yelled at me once. She said 'You promised-always'. Only time I ever really heard her speak to me. I don't get it. I don't hear the brotherhood. That's always been Helena. I figure that makes sense since she had direct dealings with them. It's not a nightmare for me anymore. It's just disturbing. Christina isn't a real person in my life. She's just a part of Helena that likes to play in my head. For Helena…it's a nightmare."

"The chess thing?"

"Gone since we found the queen." Myka smiled, envisioning the piece still standing guard in front of Christina's photo. "She's doing her job."

"So it really is connected to all of this…" Claudia pondered quietly.

Myka stood up, grabbing Claudia's arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Not thinking about it. Come on. Let's get back to Papa Bear before we get yelled at for not working." Walking through the gates, Myka turned to look back one more time and stopped short.

"What's wrong?" Claudia asked.

"I don't know. Nothing." Myka shook her head and looked again. "I thought…Never mind. You want to get a pizza later and watch a movie, maybe stay the night? Sort of have a sister thingy night?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. It's been a while since I've had you to myself. Afraid to be alone?" Claudia asked leading the way through the maze of aisles.

"No. Someone reminded me of something important. And yeah, maybe I don't really want to be alone. Maybe we can watch Batman Begins? Can't say I really know what happens."

Claudia shoved her to the side with her shoulder. "I so knew you two were not watching that movie. You two are impossible. Next time you get separate seats on opposite sides of the room."

"That reminds me, I need to change the sheets."

"Oh, dude, I so did not need to know that."

"It's not what you think. It's a matter of a lot of snot," Myka lied, remembering the kitchen too.

"The decision is yours," Artie said backing away.

"Why does it have to be mine?" Myka complained.

"Because you're getting your hands dirty and the only way you do that is by playing in the sandbox. This is the sandbox. You've played with the toys for years. I trust you. Talk it through with me if you want, but you make the decision." He looked back at the screen. "You two stay where you are. Myka will be back with you in a few minutes." He slammed the Farnsworth shut.

"You just cut my wife off!" Myka exclaimed.

"Just like I do everybody else! Right now she's not your…whatever. She's an agent. I told you you'd have to make the tough decisions and this isn't one of them or I'd be doing it. It's a straight forward job. Talk it through."

"Pete's on his way back from Tokyo...I can't believe you sent him there on his own. They've been up all night, but they're in New York…"

"Which is…"

"A stone's throw away from Philadelphia to an artifact we don't know that much about, Artie."

"So…"

"We have a lot of research to do while they're on their way to Philly. That leaves Pete, or me," she added quickly, "to follow on something new leaving you Claudia to go too or stay here with the techno mojo. So, Steve and Helena are going to Philly ASAP."

"YES! Now get them, fill them in and get them on their way. They're waiting for you. I'll start pulling files and you can wake Claudia up. Car rental will be faster. Oh, and Steve wants to know what's up with HG eating kimchi, peanut butter and bananas, Twinkies and guzzling a quart of OJ with a chocolate milk chaser on the way to the airport."

Blushing, Myka opened the Farnsworth as Artie dashed into the next room, smiling broadly, pulling out files.

"Artie," Myka peeked her head through the door, "Steve's getting a car, Claudia is on her way and I'm starting a big pot of coffee for her."

He pushed his glasses up, turning to her, smile gone. "Good, good. Don't make her too much. She gets cranky if it sits too long, and I don't see you drinking it much anymore."

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to quit the habit." She hesitated at the door, frowning. "Hey, Artie, don't you think it's time we got some new recruits? Things seem more active and if Claudia and I are being kept here more…"

He looked up at her, surprised. "You think we need more help?" he asked sternly.

"Well, kind of. Even with Helena and me back it's been hard for us to keep up. I don't think I'm being a wimp by saying we're getting tired."

"I think you just passed your first test."

"What test?"

"The test you weren't having in which you have the same idea as Mrs. Frederic."

"Is that why she was here?"

"Partially. Now we just need to find them." He handed her a stack of files. "Here's your pile. Now stop talking and get working so we have something to work with."

"I'm sorry, Steve. I just do not see the appeal to Philadelphia. I'm not required to like every place I'm sent to. And no, I don't find the Liberty Bell such an exciting attraction. I fail to see the reasoning behind its significance. It's a broken hunk of metal. Perhaps if you hadn't wasted all of that tea someone would have later known how to ring a bell without breaking it and had the skill to fix it properly! I still really have no idea why you felt it was necessary to drag me there. It was bloody cold there and I'm still not warm. I'm not convinced I still have toes."

"Oh, someone is cranky!" Pete turned around to see the two entering from the umbilicus. "Sounds like the British are coming and they need…"

"Yes, Mr. Lattimer? What exactly is it the British need?" Helena gave him a cold glare that made him shrink down in his chair.

"Tea?" He tried. "Um, she's down…" He started to point.

"Honestly, do you really think I don't know where she is?" she barked slamming the door behind her, trotting down the stairs.

"Okay, that's still kinda freaky. What's up with her anyway? How long has she been like that?" Pete grimaced looking at Steve.

"Two artifacts to be tagged." He smiled painfully, placing the items heavily on the table. "Since we left Philadelphia bright and early this morning. Way over tired and in need of something none of us can provide. She kicks in her sleep." He sat heavily in a chair across from Pete, rubbing his shins.

"Whoa. You shared a bed? Seriously?"

"Wasn't the first time and unlike you, Pete, I've seen her naked." Steve waved his phone at him as a reminder of the photo she'd assigned to herself one day when she got bored.

"Well, I did kiss her first," he pouted.

"So old, Pete. That's just so old. And where did it get you, my man?" Steve smiled brightly. He sobered recalling the restless night and the anticipated nightmare. "She didn't sleep well. She just needs someone else, not necessarily something. So stop thinking it. I'm going home to eat and sleep until tomorrow. Where are Claud and Artie?"

"Vanessa is here and Claudia is probably waiting for you. I got desk duty."

"Pissed off Myka, huh?"

"Kind of." He threw his pen down still pouting.

Standing up, Steve slapped him on the back. "That didn't take long. See ya."

He heard their voices coming up the stairs a half hour later, turning at the loud bang outside the door. All he saw was Helena's back against the window and two hands sliding up her sides. He groaned and yelled at the door, "Hey, Pete still in the office!"

The two women froze. Myka peeked over Helena's shoulder before letting go, attempting to straighten her shirt. Trying to casually walk into the office, clearing her throat, shirt tail hanging out, HG walked in behind her, obviously buttoning the top of her shirt.

Pete shook his head. "Still cranky?" He smiled at HG when she looked up from the last button.

"Not that it is any of your concern, but very," she said coldly heading for the umbilicus waiting for Myka.

"Oh, yeah. Sensing a little tension there?" He goaded her, getting a scary glare back that made him shiver. "Right. I hate when you do that." He shivered again.

Grabbing her coat, Myka turned to him, still blushing, pointing to the two artifacts. "Don't forget to tag those before you leave and make sure your report is signed off and on Artie's desk. I'm going home to make dinner and relax."

"Just because Artie picked you doesn't mean you get to boss me around!" he complained signing his report and tossing it over to Artie's desk.

She leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "No, but fixing a certain international misunderstanding with a certain flight attendant from Tokyo for you that Artie doesn't know about definitely does." She smiled patting his shoulder. "If something comes up, don't call us. The Farnsworth is staying here and our phones are off."

"Relax, my ass," he grumbled at the closing door. "Tension relief, maybe, and a lot of warming up a cold Brit. I hate desk duty."