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 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 THREE 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! And Max is mine, so please don't steal him!
Summary: Helena allows herself to want.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! But I'm reaching the end of the semester, so hopefully things will pick up. :)
July 2016
Even though Myka is not home, by force of habit Helena wakes from her nightmare soundlessly. She can't remember the dream except for the powerful uneasiness that follows her as she wakes and the way that her mournful longing for Christina hits an unusual crescendo.
Myka and Pete are away. Everyone is, actually. Only Leena and Helena have remained out of the field, and the B&B is oddly silent with only Max and the two women.
Helena sits up and stretches, trying to shake the inquietude that is settling between her shoulder blades. She stands, unable to find solace in that bed without Myka present, and heads out into the hall.
She startles in the doorway, surprised by Max across the way. He stands silently outside his own door, pacifier in place, Pooh dangling from his fingers. In low light and with the dream chasing her out of her bed, his dark brown eyes eerily remind her of Christina's and she shivers. Then he gives a half smile, crooked, smothered by the mustachioed pacifier, and the moment passes. He is once again simply Macsen, a boy she loves and who helped her begin to truly heal with that very sloppy grin.
"Can't sleep?" she asks him softly. He shakes his head, and Helena extends her hand, which he takes. "Would you like to take a walk with me?"
"Mhmm," he nods, and they start for the stairs, hands intertwined. On the stairs, Max holds his other hand out, Pooh and all, to provide extra balance. The silly old bear drags against the wall.
They wander the downstairs wordlessly, rare for both of them. He holds her hand some of the time, others just walking closer, his shoulder brushing against her thigh.
"Swing?" he asks when they pass the front door.
Helena considers for just a moment, then nods.
"Yes, that may be just the thing."
She hands the boy his light jacket, denim with a small assortment of pins on the breast, carefully chosen by Max and Aunt Claudia. He slips his small frame into the jacket, pulling it over his thin pajamas. It may be July, but the nights are still just a little chilly in South Dakota. Using an arm hooked around her knee for balance, Max then slips his bare feet into deep purple sneakers that she has learned are called Converse.
The shoes were the source of much controversy in the spring, when his pre-school teacher commented to Pete that the color was little "girly" and wouldn't he want more of a "boy" color to avoid any teasing. Pete had been incensed, saying that it was a "boy" color if a boy picked it, Max would wear whatever shoes he wanted, and besides, he thought purple was "damn manly. The color of kings." Steve especially lost all composure at "damn manly". Pete, Steve, and Deandre all dropped Max off the next day wearing purple tee shirts. The hubbub had quickly died down, and Max had yet to report any of the threatened teasing.
Helena found the whole thing exceedingly silly, but Pete seemed rather proud of his parenting victory.
Helena throws on the nearest jacket she recognizes, and it happens to be Myka's, a thin trench coat, and she takes a moment to savor the scent. Less worried about her own feet, she leaves them bare and leads Max out onto the front porch swing.
There, he clambers onto the hanging bench as she sits more sedately. He immediately snuggles up alongside, ducking under her arm.
The stars are endless here in what Claudia refers to as the "middle of freaking nowhere". She does so wish that she'd been able to fly with her rocket into them, though Myka had very sternly told her that given the materials and (lack of) precautions available, she wouldn't have even survived to exit the atmosphere. Both the materials and the precautions have improved since, but she thinks that even her Myka has a bridge too far in indulging Helena's inner mad scientist.
Her current project may be in fact flirting with the edge of that bridge, but Helena has felt so robbed of the chance to create her own aeroplane.
"Agey?"
Max can perfectly pronounce his letters "H" and "G" separately now, but he still slurs them together into his affectionate name for her. No one has dared try to correct it, and Helena is almost sure she wouldn't allow it. Myka certainly wouldn't.
"Yes, Macsen?"
"I had a bad dream."
"I'm so sorry, darling. Whatever about?"
"Dragons."
"Oh, indeed? Well, I am fairly certain that dragons do not exist, except in stories. But even if they do, they could not harm you here, because you have all of us to protect you."
"Yeah," Max says softly.
"And besides, you are so kind and brave that I believe any dragon would much rather be your friend than hurt you."
Max laughs brightly.
"Nuh-huh."
"Yes, I believe it would. A dragon for a best friend would be very fun. You could do a lot of adventuring."
After giving them a big push off the cool, dewy porch, Helena pulls her bare feet up onto the swing, tucking them on the opposite side of her from Max. With Pooh shoved safely between them, Max allows his hand to fall onto her knee, patting twice. She smiles and drops a kiss onto the top of his head.
"We should really get to bed soon, Max," she says softly as they continue to sway.
"More minutes?" he begs, that infernal pacifier smothering his words. Myka and Pete have decided it is going away after his birthday next month. She hopes she can get an assignment in the field for the duration of that torture.
"Yes, alright. Five more."
Helena wishes her bad dreams could be chased away as easily as a dragon-turned-friend, but since she can't even pinpoint what, exactly, they were about, she's left with the lingering sense of unease, faded slightly by the company of the boy next to her.
Jane rubs at her forehead in frustration. Gathering together the Council of Regents always gives her a headache. Today, especially, given the arguments some are currently using. They've been here before.
"They are not merely chess pieces of the Warehouse. They are people. We cannot make every decision for them, nor refuse to allow them to-"
"They are not asking for permission to have a child. They are asking if they may stay after they do. Much like Agent Lattimer," Kosan reasons. "No one is suggesting that we can-"
"I am," Barta insists. "I am suggesting. Not only are they integral assets of the Warehouse, HG Wells is frankly not just any other agent or any other person who can live in this world as she pleases. She gave up that right when she tried to end the world."
"Barta, please," Jane dismisses.
"Forgive me if I fail to see anything you say as anything but biased on this issue, Jane. Does no one remember why Wells tried to destroy the world at Yellowstone?"
"She was mad," Jane defends. "She has healed and made amends."
"She was mad with grief. Grief for a child she lost. Shall we re-arm that bomb, then? We can and we must take whatever steps to ensure that never happens."
"That's enough," Kosan says forcefully. "HG Wells is no longer our prisoner. She is a fully rehabilitated, fully reinstated, integral member of our team of agents. All of whom have voiced full-throated support for Agents Bering and Wells."
"They don't make the decisions," Barta's compatriot Lenges says. "We do."
"No," Kosan says stonily. "I do. I brought it to the Council's attention in order to hear these opinions, but as in all matters pertaining to the function of the Warehouse and her agents, the decisions are mine. If you are unhappy with the decisions I am making, there are established means for removing me from that position. Until that time, I appreciate all input and will make the decision accordingly."
Later, Jane pulls Adwin aside.
"They do not have the support to remove you," she notes.
"Not as of now, no," Adwin almost grins.
"I feel you leaning in the direction of supporting Myka and HG. May I ask why?"
"I've made no decision," Adwin plays coy. "But if that is what I choose, it will be because I believe strongly in second chances."
"Third," Jane smiles wryly.
"Third, even," Adwin allows. "Besides, don't you believe Macsen deserves a younger sibling?"
Jane's smile morphs into a warm beam.
"I can't wait."
"Don't worry so much," Artie says brusquely, though his own voice is tinged with concern. "They have no reason to say no."
"I'm sure Mrs. F told them everything, that we're all behind you. She'll be back any minute now," Pete reassures.
"She should've been back already," Myka says anxiously, pacing back and forth in the main office.
"Mrs. Frederic operates on her own schedule," HG says calmly, seated at the small table by the files.
"How come you're not freaking out?" Pete asks her, idly tossing a baseball in the air repeatedly to expel his own nervous energy.
"I guess I'm merely accustomed to letting the Regents deliberate over my life choices," HG answers airily.
As she spins in her pacing, Myka fixes a glare on her.
"Darling," HG soothes. "It will come when it comes."
The glare doesn't falter, and Pete just breathes easily that it isn't focused on him right now.
"May we have the room, gentlemen?"
"Yep," Pete agrees, throwing himself from his chair and grabbing Artie by the shoulders. "When's the last time you pulled inventory duty, Artimus?"
Artie grumbles out a protest but still allows himself to be pulled along.
"Myka."
"Don't. Why aren't you nervous?" Myka asks, arms crossed over her chest.
"I spent over a century immobilized in Bronze," HG quips. "I can wait for anything. Infinite patience."
A smirk touches the edges of Myka's lips, and she says softly, wryly:
"That's not what you said last night."
HG quirks an eyebrow and ripostes:
"Well played. And at work, no less."
Myka shrugs, infinitesimally relaxing, standing still at least, even if her toe is still tapping. HG stands and steps in close, hands on Myka's hips.
"What weighs more heavily on you: Mrs. Frederic's imminent return or tonight's scheduled phone call to your parents?"
Myka narrows her eyes, protesting: "I-"
"I understand that it may be difficult to tell them that you've tricked me into marrying you-"
"Tricked?!" Myka objects.
"I always have been susceptible to the charms of a beautiful, brilliant woman," HG says airily, eyes twinkling. "You started talking about the romantic wonders of paperwork and I suddenly found myself tied down for life."
"Tied down?!"
"When you say it that way, love, it does begin to sound appealing. Remind me-"
"Agent Bering. Agent Wells."
Myka stopped blushing about it years before, but she is still at least a little embarrassed every time Mrs. Frederic interrupts them. She takes a very small step out of HG's arms, and waits.
"Did they say anything?" she asks, arms crossed defensively over her chest again.
"The Council deliberated and advised. Mr. Kosan has come to his decision."
Myka waits anxiously, but HG is relaxed. The secret, of course, is that she could not care less what the Regents have to say about their life. She has no attention of allowing anyone or anything to stand in the way of whatever Myka wants.
"There are concerns, of course, and Mr. Kosan wishes to encourage Agent Wells to continue her sessions with Dr. Zhang. He sees no reason, however, that you may not both continue your tenure as Warehouse agents."
"So that's a yes?" Pete begs for clarification from the doorway, where he had been none-too-subtly eavesdropping.
"That is a yes, Agent Lattimer. Young Macsen need no longer be the only child at Leena's. Speaking of, Leena has invited me to dinner, so I shall see you all there."
She disappears again, but this time it is out the umbilicus like most people.
Pete hugs each of them in congratulations, then vacates the room under the guise of running to tell Artie.
"Are you less worried now, darling?" HG asks when they're alone, squeezing Myka's hand.
"No," Myka sighs, with a half grin.
"Well, good. I'd be worried if you were."
"That went better than expected," HG notes as she flops down onto the couch next to a sleepy Max. She slings an arm around the boy's waist and pulls him close to her side.
"I think we had them at 'grandkid'," Myka notes wryly as she takes the seat across from the couch, watching them fondly.
"Aren't all parents pushovers once you mention grandkids?" Pete asks from the other side of Max.
"Ah," Helena says from personal experience, "You'd be surprised. Mine were, shall we say, less than thrilled."
"Right," Pete nods, remembering the circumstances.
"How'd it go?" Claudia eagerly asks as she bounds into the living room. She spares a grin at the pj'd Max, curled into HG's side and whispering softly with her. "Did you survive, Mykes?"
"It was fine," Myka deflects.
"Did Papa Bering give HG a death glare?" she demands.
"Warren was perfectly well-behaved," HG promises.
"He was good. Which was weird," Myka notes. She meets Max's heavily lidded eyes and crooks a finger at him. He slides from between his daddy and HG and pads over to happily sit in his Aunt Mykes's lap. "Hey, you."
"Heya."
"Did you do story-time without me?"
"Nuh-huh," Max promises with a vigorous shake of his head.
"Good. We'll head up for that soon."
"And then we'll talk about everything?" Claudia asks excitedly, and HG smiles at her warmly. "Like the wedding?"
"I don't know. I'm pretty beat..." Myka leads.
"Oh, come on. I've never been to a wedding. I want details!"
Myka stands, and Max holds on, legs around her waist.
"You're getting too old for this," Myka warns the nearly-four-year-old.
Max resolutely ignores her, instead turning his attention over her shoulder towards the couch as she walks away, and saying to its occupants:
"Kisses, later, please."
"I believe we've been ordered to abstain from story-time," HG says wryly.
"Totally dissed," Pete concurs.
"C'mon, Mykes," Claudia calls after her. "Just one little detail. Like, like, where! Where are you getting married?"
tbc