Title: Ours
Author: A. Windsor
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka Bering, HG Wells, Pete Lattimer, Max Lattimer, with supporting roles from everyone else.
Pairings: Myka/HG, Claudia/Leena eventually.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. My law degree (holy crap) could allow me to legalese this a little more, but it also tells me it's pretty useless. So please don't sue; it's not mine, I'm just playing! And Max is mine, so please don't steal him!
Summary: Helena allows herself to want.
Author's Note: Thank you, all of you. I know there are some longer droughts with this fic, but I'm making some real progress recently and I hope not to keep you waiting so long.
Early October 2016
After two weeks in the sunshine-y warmth of Greece, the overcast cool of South Dakota is quite a shock to Myka's system. It's their second day back from the honeymoon, and she's having trouble adjusting back into the real world. A full house of several adults, cooped up inside by never-ending grey clouds, is a rude awakening from the sun-dappled solitude of many hotel rooms all across Greece, and that one tent pitched outside of Amphipolis. She's happy to be home, but oh does she miss the quiet. And the warmth. That's probably why she was so quick to escape to the library with Max today.
Myka has Max's library books (all ten of them, which makes her very proud, even if they're all superhero adventures and books about dinosaurs) balanced on her left hip as she watches him climb all over the library's indoor, two level playhouse with his pre-K playmates. The library playground is quite the hopping place in October in South Dakota.
"Congratulations!"
Myka looks up sharply, confused.
The bubbly young librarian gestures to her left hand, and Myka blushes.
"Oh, right," she says. "Thank you."
She glances at the simple, warm band around her ring finger, and she smiles involuntarily. She never really thought a wedding ring would mean so much to her.
"Max told me all about it," Miss Shelly says. "We're not all backwards up here in South Dakota, you know. You can be excited!"
"I am," Myka defends, adjusting her hold on Max's books. "It's just new; I kinda keep forgetting it's there."
Shelly laughs.
"Max told you all about it?"
"It's the first thing he told me when he ran in here today," Shelly says. "'Miss Shelly! Hi! My aunts got married!'."
Myka shakes her head. "He's a chatterbox. I'm sure the whole town knows."
"He's excited," Shelly says warmly.
Suddenly, Max takes a tumble of the not-very-serious but still tear-inducing variety.
"I should go," Myka says quickly.
"Okay! Tell your wife I say hi," Shelly says brightly.
Wife. Yep. That's still weird.
Myka drops to her knee beside Max and sets the books down beside them.
"You okay, buddy?"
Max nods and wipes at his tears, holding his elbow up for her to kiss.
"Can we go home?" he asks, grabbing onto her shoulder.
"Yeah, let's go home. Take a couple books and we'll go get your coat, okay?"
There are days when she is so sure that having a child is going to be the best decision they've ever made.
And then there are the days like this. Days when she comes home to the B&B after long hours of paperwork and finds that Max and Helena have turned the entire first floor into a sprawling metropolis. Likely using every block (wooden, Lego, or otherwise) and every Hot Wheel car, Tonka truck, and any toy that moves, the city has left only a small path throughout the house (and judging by the boats at the path's edges, it's meant to be a river). Oh, she's sure Dre and Claudia assisted, but this entire project has Max and Helena's stamp all over it. Helena probably called it an exercise in urban planning, or municipal development, or some thing like that. And of course, it's 10:00 and no one has bothered to clean any of it up.
Thankfully, even the days of chaos in pursuit of science and Myka's resulting annoyance end something like this: Helena and Max sprawled out on their bed amidst several stacks of books, sound asleep in a tangle of limbs. The book towers lean precariously, and a couple have even fallen onto the floor.
And though all the mess grates on Myka's need for control, she can also see, in all of it, the fun they had today, so much so that they passed out while reading, not even capable of turning out the lamp on the nightstand. What amazes Myka, what made up her mind, what tells her that they've made the right decision, is that Helena, her Helena, who has seen so much, lost so much, harbored so much grief and rage, still has an amazing capacity for joy and play. It's a capacity she had to work hard to recover and maintain, but it is here and strong, and it blows Myka away.
There will be time to clean in the morning. For now, she just quietly removes the books and piles them on the reading chair. She debates a shower, but she's just so exhausted, so she ducks into the bathroom to just brush her teeth and quickly rinse her face.
Then she pulls on some pjs, shuts off the lamp, and with a kiss for each, she slips into her spot behind them.
Halloween 2016
This isn't how Halloween was supposed to go. Max was okay with waking up this Halloween morning with his dad still away for work. He easily let his Aunt Leena dress him for pre-K in a toned down version of his costume (no green paint or giant hands allowed in the classroom), and he kissed her warmly goodbye at the classroom door, content with assurances that his Dad would be home in time to trick or treat.
Those assurances did not account for late October's finicky weather all across the country (except for Univille, where it's a cold but completely clear day).
After breaking the news on the drive home, Leena has been fighting off a total breakdown for the disappointed boy. Claudia has mercifully held off on any "you wouldn't like him when he's angry" jokes for now.
On top of that, the dishwasher is broken, and while in general Leena doesn't mind the chore of dishwashing, doing the dozens of dishes of the B&B's ever-busy agents is just too much, especially with a pouting Max in the other room.
"I got the rest of 'em," Claudia interrupts as she comes to the sink and bumps Leena away with her hip. "And I'll see if I can fix it in the morning, but I might have to wait for HG."
"I can-"
"You've already done most of them. I can finish up. Our costumes are done, by the way."
"Our costumes?"
"Well, yeah. If we're taking the little dude out for the night, we should be in costume, too. Don't worry; yours is nice. I've been working on mine since Max settled on the Hulk, so I threw something together for you to round out the theme."
"Should I be scared?"
Claudia just grins and deposits another bowl in the drying rack.
"How have you had time to make yourself a costume?" Leena asks.
"Priorities. And very little sleep. What time do you want to head out?"
Leena glances at the clock on the microwave. "An hour? Which I guess means I should go talk to him and get him ready."
"Hi."
"Hi," Max pouts, pulling his legs up to his chest as he drops his Iron Man figurine onto the couch beside him.
"Are you ready to start the face paint?"
Max shrugs.
"He wants to be here, you know."
Max nods dutifully, but remains grumpy, and Leena sighs. She'd known that wasn't going to work, but it is still a good place to start.
"And he'll be home tomorrow morning, and we'll put on your costume again and show him all your candy. Tonight, Aunt Claudia and I are both going to come with you. That'll be fun, right?"
That gets a grin out of him, small though it is, and he nods a little more heartily.
"Aunt Claudia made a cool costume for her, too. I'm not sure what it is, but-"
Max pushes his action figure towards her and says: "Iron Man."
Used to such non sequiturs from the four-year-old, she nods.
"Yeah, he's pretty cool."
Max shakes his head negatively.
"Aunt Claud's gonna be Iron Man," he corrects with a grin.
Oh of course she is. Leena worries about what crazy costume Claudia has dreamed up for her.
"Well, what will Iron Man be without her Hulk?" Leena asks. "Ready to get ready?"
He's really grinning, now, and he gives her a big hug when she holds her arms open for him.
"Alright!" Claudia says excitedly as she enters the room. "Time to Hulk out!"
"Explain again who I'm supposed to be?" Leena asks, surveying the skirt suit laid out for her. Claudia hands her a laminated badge.
"Pepper Potts!" Max tells her with an exasperated sigh. Given his completely green face and comically large foam hands, he's quite an amusing picture.
Claudia laughs.
"Yeah, Aunt Leena, Pepper Potts."
Despite Leena's assumptions, Claudia's costume is pretty tame: a red sweatsuit with gold and silver paint embellishments and a large plastic helmet. Max, in green sweatpants and a sweatshirt, with purple shorts pulled over, also has a puffy green coat bought cheap at a Goodwill to keep him warm on a chilly Dakota night.
"Tony loves Pepper. And she's awesome," Max reports, just like Claudia has taught him.
"I figured you wouldn't want anything too complicated," Claudia grins at Max's recital, helmet on her hip. "Max an' I are gonna go wait downstairs, okay? Make sure Steve and Graham have the candy situation under control. In case some trick or treaters get lost enough to come to the B&B."
Leena smiles as they leave.
"And then trick or treat!" Max yells from the hallway.
November 2016
"HG! Let's go! Five minute warning!"
Pete's bellow echoes throughout the entire bed and breakfast.
"And there goes our peaceful Sunday morning," Claudia sighs, looking up from her laptop and sharing a look with Leena and Myka around the sunroom table.
It's been a rough few weeks. Teams have been in and out as pings pop up at an alarming rate. There doesn't seem to be anything nefarious at play; life in the Warehouse is just like this. Sometimes it gets hot, sometimes it gets cold, and sometimes no one gets a real day off in seventeen days.
But time and the NFL wait for no man, even the weary and finally resting, and Pete has taken HG's sports education into his own hands, the better to prepare her for an American child, he says. Today's lesson? The Cleveland Browns versus the Arizona Cardinals.
"Football before lunch is still weird," Steve, their resident eastcoaster, complains, padding down the stairs in his sweats, a slight limp from a tweaked knee on his last retrieval.
"Football is simply "weird"," HG comments. "Many of these rules are completely arbitrary. And why a sport that so consistently results in debilitating head injuries remains so popular is a mystery beyond my understanding."
Even as she points out these major flaws in the sport, she takes her seat on the couch.
"C'mon, HG. Even you like the big hits. A little bit of Schadenfreude," Dre counters, dropping beside her with a giant bowl of popcorn.
HG shrugs her acquiescence as the Lattimers make their appearance.
Max jumps into the doorway and lets out a growl that is fairly intimidating for a four-year-old, though muffled by the full dog mask covering his face.
"The Browns are in the house!" Pete announces, flexing his muscles under his brown jersey.
Trailer trots in behind him, gives his young companion a curious look, and then settles down in front of the couch, keeping an eye on the bowl of popcorn and hoping for some careless humans.
"That's a lot of excitement for a team that's 2 and 7," Steve comments.
"Against a team that is 3 and 6," Dre adds.
"Anyone can win, any day," Pete counters. "That's the beauty of football. Every game matters."
"Wait for the afternoon game, HG," Steve says from his chair. "Packers/Niners. Quality football."
"Yeah, okay," Pete agrees, scruffing Max's mask covered head as his sits in front of the couch. "But Max and I are not fair weather fans. Maximus, go up and sit with HG and Dre, okay? Tray doesn't need that much popcorn."
Max nods and scrambles up, pulling the mask from his face.
"It's itchy, Daddy."
"That's okay. You can take it off."
The boy dumps the mask, but he is still decked out in a sweatshirt declaring loyalty to the Browns.
Over in the sunroom, Myka comments to Leena:
"Remember when there was only a TV in Pete's room?"
Leena smirks. "The whining became too much; I had to give in."
"I like it. Except for the football," Claudia comments.
There's a hush in the other room that indicates kick-off, and then Pete's agonized groan.
"Oh, c'mon! You've gotta wrap up! That's not a tackle!"
"C'mon!" Max mimics.
"Why are you so bad?" Dre questions.
Leena glances towards the living room. "Sounds like comfort food for lunch."
It's feast or famine in the Warehouse, it seems. While October and early November had been one ping after another, the artifacts have all gone dormant. The first week had been a nice respite, but at Day 10 relief has given way to boredom. While most while away the hours going through the motions of inventory and cold cases, Helena has taken to her labs, both in the Warehouse and the Top Secret Shed, almost obsessively.
"Hi," Myka calls to her wife from the doorway of the Warehouse lab.
Helena manages to look up and smile a "Hello, darling," before diving her head back into her work.
"I've come to take you home for dinner."
"Ah yes, perfect. One moment."
Myka takes a look around the cluttered room and feels a sinking feeling in her gut as many of her suspicions are confirmed. She started to suspect while they were in Greece, when Helena was more entranced by the small biplane that chauffeured them around than the wonder of Alexander's possible tomb. The model hanging from an old coat rack at the end of one of the tables tells her everything she needs to know.
"You're building a plane," she says flatly.
"Attempting to, yes," Helena answers absently. It takes her a moment, but then she seems to process Myka's tone. "Myka, don't make that face. It's perfectly sa-"
"No, it's not safe. Do you know how many people died in early tests for planes?"
"Quite a few, I suspect, but none were-"
"As smart as you?" Myka bites back. "The plane has already been invented, Helena."
"Yes, and I missed out. All those men-"
"You are a genius. You could be using your mind to create anything else. If you want to fly, okay, buy a Cessna and get some lessons in Featherhead. But to fly something cobbled together from what's lying-"
"I've cobbled nothing!" Helena defends. "I've special ordered several parts, and I assure you-"
Myka's glare intensifies, and she crosses her arms over her chest.
"We're having a child. For all we know, I could be pregnant right now. And I know our jobs are dangerous, but you're here trying to build some deathtrap that could fall right out of the sky and-"
"Your faith in my work is heart-warming, darling," Helena retorts.
"Oh don't. You could build anything in the world. Why does it have to be this?"
"And why is it this you are so hung up on? You've never objected to a project in the past. My work, both alone and with Claudia, can be perilous, but I've never taken any unnecessary risks. I'll be just as cautious this time. What makes those projects any better?"
"Because you were inventing or you were problem-solving or you were learning. Everything you would learn from this you could learn in a book. Or on YouTube. This is reinventing the wheel because your pride is wounded."
Helena all but pouts at the accusation, and Myka crosses the workshop to rest a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to show up the Wright Brothers. You'd've given 'em hell," she says more gently. "But I'm not going to risk you for an outdated mode of transportation, and I'm not doing any of this alone. Invent something better, and preferably land-based."
After a sigh, Helena admits softly: "I'm not sleeping."
"You don't say," Myka teases gently.
"Ever since we started trying... I am anxious to conceive, yes, but also terrified, grabbing onto every last moment. I imagine our lives will be much busier in the coming months... I simply hoped to accomplish this one task while my work still held this much of my attention. And I suppose to stave off my anxieties."
"You can work as much as you want, but please on something else. I don't ask that very often."
Helena concedes with a nod. She extends a hand to Myka's abdomen.
"How long until you can take a test?"
"A few more days."
"How are you feeling?"
"The same?" Myka shrugs. "Normal. Vanessa said it could take a few tries."
"Yes, don't want to get our hopes up."
"Or our anxieties," Myka posits.
"Those either."
"Come home for dinner? Max misses you."
"Oh, Max does?"
"Yep, just Max."
Helena strips off her labcoat and gives Myka's rear a swat.
"I can keep the model, yes?"
"Of course."
"Maybe it could go in the nursery."
"Yeah, we'll see about that."
tbc