A day spent with a drill in one hand and a paint brush in the other. I'm shattered. Hope you enjoy this one!
Chapter Five
Helena's heart fluttered as Pete entered the room with Myka and his mother directly behind him. It had been almost a week since she'd last seen her wife and her eyes drank in the brunette's appearance like an elixir. She appeared tired but overall a great deal more relaxed than HG had expected. When Myka had left the Warehouse after the debacle in Egypt and Mrs Fredrick had asked Helena to speak to the young woman, Myka had (rightfully) wanted nothing to do with her. A brief moment of eyes meeting across the room revealed a flicker of understanding in green orbs that had not existed back then.
HG shot a small smile in that direction as she watched Christina enter and immediately commandeer Myka's attention. It had been even more difficult to see the children missing their mother than enduring her own longings. A tear came to her eye as she watched her wife lean willingly into their daughter's arms and she had to wipe it hastily away. She felt pressure on her shoulder and instinctively reached back for her grandmother's hand.
"I miss her," she whispered just loud enough for the older Victorian to hear.
Eleanor took a seat next to her granddaughter while making sure to keep her hand wrapped tightly around her Little One's. "This separation will not last, Helena. Whatever Heracles' intentions were in taking Myka's memories, he will regret that decision eventually. Like a phoenix from the ashes, your love will alight once more and return stronger than ever."
HG chuckled, appreciating the support. The woman's words put her in mind of many conversations she'd had with her spouse. "Were you aware that we have a tendency to be overly pompous with our words, you and I?"
The elder Wells' eyes twinkled at the question. "What an utterly ridiculous notion! Who informed you thus?"
"Myka," Helena replied softly. "We were arguing once, not too long after witnessing an altercation you had with Grandfather. She said that we use words to make ourselves appear subtly superior."
Eleanor suppressed a smirk. "And what was your response?"
"I informed her that words were merely one weapon in my arsenal and that I could end an argument without them." She paused for effect, a smile morphing into a smug grin. "Then I kissed her and very little of intelligence was said thereafter." They both laughed quietly to themselves but the jovial moment was short-lived.
Mrs Wells watched the smile fall from her granddaughter's face and wished intently that she had the power to end the inventor's misery. "Have faith, my love. You will prevail." On spotting her great-granddaughter and Myka approaching, she squeezed Helena's hand and let go so that she could stand to receive the American. "Myka," she greeted and reached out to trap the regent's outstretched hand gently between her own. "It seems not a moment ago that you and Christina were in London with us and causing a stir. It is not often that one has the opportunity to reintroduce oneself. Eleanor Wells, dear," she finally said before releasing the startled woman.
As Christina sniggered and coughed into her fist, an exasperated and anxious sigh rose from the inventor. "Norie," she warned. There was a slight flush to her cheeks that only the older Wells ever seemed to have a knack for causing. "I'm sure that Myka does not wish to be mauled."
"Maul? Pish-tosh, Helena, I am doing no such thing. I simply wished to welcome my granddaughter-in-law back into the family." Mrs Wells steamrolled over the social norms, knowing that the two women would walk endless circles around each other if she didn't; they were still both so stubborn. "My dear," she continued, though with a slightly more reserved tone, "you are enduring remarkably well, I must say. But then, I always knew that you were resilient. You would have to be, to keep this one in line for so long," she added and gestured to HG.
Helena rolled her eyes, but as Myka seemed to be enjoying her humiliation, she couldn't help but feel grateful for her grandmother's interference. Before she could add anything to her defence or steer the conversation in a different direction though, another figure joined them, his arm winding deftly around the older Victorian's waist and derailing her next teasing diatribe.
"Indeed, love," Rupert interrupted his wife as he joined them. He kissed the corner of her mouth as she turned to smile at him and then focussed his attention on Myka. "Some of us yet await our medals for enduring the siren call of the Wells women with our sanity intact." His calm tone and gentle smile dissolved any teasing in his words and his offered hand was immediately greeted by the American's. "Rupert Wells."
Myka couldn't stop the chuckle that rose in her throat as Eleanor elbowed her husband in the ribs. She watched as his dark eyes twinkled with mirth and immediately recognised the same mischief that she'd seen in Helena's gaze on occasion. Both of the newcomers shared some of those personality traits that had attracted her to the inventor in the first place, only this time, she wasn't equally distracted by her body's physical desires. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."
"I think everyone's here," Christina interrupted. She reached out to squeeze Myka's arm before turning to sit with her boyfriend.
To Myka's relief and disappointment, Mr Kosan arrived, offered her a brief greeting and suggested that they get started. She took a seat between Pete and Artie, separate from but in plain view of her new family. Any smiles or amusement vanished and they were left with a tense silence for several seconds. Myka wondered at the glances which focussed on her before they settled on HG.
Helena straightened and took the cue. "We have gathered today to discuss any and all findings relating to the recent attacks on our family." Her eyes flicked automatically to her wife's but didn't linger. "Fredrick… our son, sustained a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a hairline fracture of his left fibula. And… my…" she faltered, dug her nails into her palm under the table and continued as if nothing were amiss. "Myka was exposed to an artefact which stole her memories of the last seventeen years. While both of these attacks were deliberate, we believe that they were largely unrelated." She looked down the table and signalled for Pete to begin, and then sat back in her chair slightly as she listened, aware that she was being watched.
"Right, so yeah, me and Tommy went back with the A-Team to where we found Freddy and scoured the place for clues," Pete began to explain. "Like we thought, there was just the one trail from the school, to the cabin and following Freddy into the trees. Looks like he was working alone."
"And what about the other tracks?" Jane Lattimer asked in her usual brusque manner. Though retired from being a regent, she was still tied to the Warehouse by the Ramati shackle. Plus, as a constant in the lives of her children and grandchildren, she naturally kept up to date with the world of the Warehouse. Since regents were being replaced and no one could be confident of their loyalty, no one's talents or experience could be left to go to waste.
"During his escape, Rick found a backpack with the name Hugh Parker written inside. He thinks that it was a child's backpack but we're tracing the name to see where it leads," Christina explained briefly before turning to her boyfriend.
"The evidence suggests that Mr Parker, as we're calling him for now, was targeted by a professional team of three." Thomas unfolded a map and slid it closer to the middle of the table. "They parked on the highway and moved in this direction towards the cabin." The map showed three red lines branching out from the road into the forest and then moving on parallel paths until they were close to where Fredrick was found. "Here is where we think Mr Parker was detected," he pointed to where the lines began to regroup. He traced the three paths until they bunched together. "And this is when we heard the two gunshots."
"We didn't find a body, so we have to assume that they took Hugh with them," Christina added. "This person," she pointed to the middle red line, "approached Rick for a few seconds. He doesn't remember much but thinks he saw a woman with a scar running across her face."
"Do we think this 'professional team of three' are our allies?" Myka wondered aloud. In spite of her lingering scepticism, she couldn't help but be drawn in. "Their timely intervention saved Freddy's life."
Helena shifted in her seat. "No," she blurted and then immediately softened her tone when Myka glared at her for the interruption. "I'm sorry, but after the conversation I had with Mr Spenser-Chapman, I'm inclined to believe that this trio were under orders to eliminate a rogue faction."
"A conversation that only you were privy to?" Myka shot back, unmollified by the inventor's apology.
HG stiffened as a chill encapsulated the room. Her gaze passed around those present and she was caught by the understanding that she could never truly be free of the mistakes she'd made in her darkest hours. At Mr Kosan's nod, she took a breath and continued as if she was unperturbed by Myka's passive-aggressive comment. "He puts a lot of stock in our 'blood bond', as he calls it. He seemed to think that I would be sympathetic to his goals because of my own misguided attempt to force change upon the world," she held her wife's gaze as she said this, communicating her willingness to admit to her own failings. The responding hardness in green eyes didn't give her much hope though.
"When it became clear that I would not share his vision, it was as if a shadow of something darker crossed his face. Not simply an expression; anger or anything of the like, but a darker presence." She addressed the table as a whole but remained turned to her spouse most of the time, as if she could convince Myka of her sincerity that way. "He claimed that he wished me no harm and that he regretted the necessity of giving the order. I assume that he meant the one which stole your memories, Myka."
Myka swallowed against the churning turmoil inside of her. She heard the inventor's words but struggled to process them – freezing under their weight. With those impossibly dark eyes fixed on her, she could concentrate on nothing but the tingle in the back of her throat and she hated it. Hated how weak Helena made her feel. It wasn't until Artie started talking, positing reasons for their enemy's unusual appearance, that she was finally able to tear her attention from the Victorian and begin to absorb everything she'd heard.
"If it's so subtle, might Heracles have been 'possessed' without his father knowing it? It could be an artefact that's been driving him all this time," Myka suggested once she'd found her voice.
"It's certainly a possibility. One which we should not dismiss," Helena replied readily. The conversation moved round the table, the theories becoming more and more outlandish until they agreed that speculation was getting them nowhere and they shelved the discussion for a time when they had more evidence to go on.
It was early afternoon before they had exhausted all topics and agreed that they should call it a day. Myka's head swam with information: an abundance of cultist groups popping up all over the new world and a missing agent; a mysterious, scarred figure and a rogue faction; family ties on both sides with opposing agendas; and her children at the heart of it all, preparing to face off against a foe who was two millennia old. By the end of the meeting, she felt ashamed once again for her attitude towards her ex-lover, seeing the pettiness of her comments in the face of the journey that destiny had provided for them. She just knew that if she could do the last hour over again though, she would react the exact same way; Helena had a way of pushing buttons that she didn't even know she had.
She hung back after everyone else had left, ostensibly to talk to Christina but really as an excuse to see Helena alone before she headed back to the bookshop. After her eldest had confirmed their lunch plans for the following day and Thomas had awkwardly bid her goodbye, she found herself alone in the dining room and at a loose end.
She wandered around the room, gazing at pictures and trying to imagine herself living in this space day in, day out, but it all felt so foreign. In light of some of the revelations exposed that afternoon, she knew that this space, this home, should feel like a second skin and it frustrated her that it didn't. How much worse must HG be feeling?
With that thought on her mind, she wandered through the kitchen, absorbing again the cosy décor and warm feeling throughout. On first impression, she had thought the house too big and impersonal to be a family home that she would enjoy living in, but on reflection, that feeling probably had a lot to do with the fact that she had associated it with a person who she had lost faith in. The house didn't make it a home, but the people did.
She found HG in the living room hovering by the fireplace and coughed lightly to get her attention. They stared at each other for several seconds before the Myka's eyes wandered around the room and she searched for something to say. "It's a nice house," she commented lightly as she rocked on the soles of her feet and stood awkwardly between the door and couch. She had wanted to apologise for her earlier unfavourable comments, but the words stuck in her throat. She felt justified for responding to the inventor's actions with suspicion and contempt, no matter how long ago the offence occurred.
Helena took a seat at a respectable distance, hoping that by sitting she would appear less threatening. "You wanted something less ostentatious," she responded with a forced smile. "I wanted something grander. We compromised."
The brunette took another quick look around her – she read the atmosphere in the room and crossed her arms over her torso. It wasn't easy to appear relaxed when her body was telling her to run far away. All morning she'd been equally dreading and looking forward to the meeting at Helena's. After meeting the children – her children – she'd spent hours each day wandering into thoughts about life as their mother and as HG's wife. Added into that a visit from her sister, and she was rapidly becoming hooked by this new reality.
She still couldn't seem to shift that voice of doubt that lingered in the back of her mind though. Its words were not as loud as they'd been a week ago, but they were persistent enough that she couldn't let herself relax. There would be many awkward conversations before she could trust her senses in this world.
"Christina told me that we have a library and a laboratory," she began abruptly, feeling the silence as a drill boring into her thoughts. "Are those our respective refuges?"
The inventor breathed an internal sigh. She missed instinctively knowing her wife's feelings, but she knew Myka well enough to see that she was uncomfortable being alone with her. She tried to keep the aggravation from her voice as she answered, "Yes and no. Our respective interests naturally take us to those places, but you often come to the lab to watch me work and I enjoy spending time with you in the library, listening to you read. Both served as school rooms when the children were younger."
Myka saw the frustration on Helena's face and heard the changing pitch of her tone. She almost regretted starting this conversation and shuffled from one foot to the other, unconsciously taking a step closer to the doorway. "I'm making you uncomfortable."
HG sighed again and closed her eyes while she gathered her wayward emotions. "It's not you, Myka. Neither of us is to blame for the situation in which we find ourselves," she responded quietly. Her gaze travelled over furniture and décor alike, recalling every conversation and dispute over style, colour, price and other numerous little inconsequential moments that she sorely missed. "Some days, it is more of a struggle to not let my anger dominate my thoughts… You should not have to ask questions about your home. You were happy here and someone stole that from you!" She allowed the words fall from her without thinking too much on their impact. Abigail had suggested, and she'd grudgingly agreed, that being open with Myka was the best way to prove that she'd changed and would eventually earn the brunette's trust. With the words though came the feelings that she was trying to manage. She reached for a tissue and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Myka. There is a fine line between being honest with you and burdening you with more than you should be expected to deal with."
A nod came in response. "I want you to be honest with me." Helena's distress allowed Myka to ignore her own discomfort a little and she moved to perch on the arm of the couch, letting her hands fall into her lap. "This isn't easy on either of us, but I think honesty is a good place to start, don't you?" She wasn't prepared to get into a deep conversation and she felt like the last person who could offer HG comfort, so she tried to change the subject before the Brit could respond. "I enjoyed spending time with the kids the other day." Her words had the desired effect and she congratulated herself as a smile crept into the inventor's forlorn expression.
"They miss you," Helena admitted cautiously. She was conscious of not wanting to put too much pressure on Myka. The brunette surprised her though by smiling.
"I'd like to see them more often. It'll be easy enough to arrange time with Christina; we've already decided to have lunch tomorrow, but I think it might be easier to see Freddy and Cat here for a while," Myka suggested in a sudden rush of words. "Particularly while Freddy can't get around easily." For a moment she felt like they were a divorced couple who were working out visiting and custody arrangements. A divorced couple who were still very much in love, however reluctantly her side felt at present.
For her part, Helena couldn't help but feel delighted by the opportunity it afforded her to spend more time with her wife. Parenthood suited them both and, while the years had seen them build strong bonds in many areas, this was one area that they could explore without Myka feeling too uncomfortable with their romantic status. "You have a key, so you can pop by any time you wish. I'll give you their schedules so you'll know where they are and when. Fredrick will be at home for a few weeks, until the doctor clears him to return to school."
"A few weeks is a long time to miss school," Myka observed. "Will you go back to home schooling him?"
"Yes, though on a reduced timetable; he's still heavily affected by his medication." Thinking that she knew where this was leading to, HG added, "Do you want to help?"
Myka's expression brightened instantly. "You wouldn't mind?" Worrying that she was being too enthusiastic when she'd recently been shouting at the Brit and throwing accusations at her, she let her expression fall and sobered. "I always liked the idea of lessons at home with my kids. No worrying about who thinks you're a nerd or having to stop because some jock thinks it's funny to steal your equipment when you're not looking. Just pure enjoyment of learning."
"Christina and Fredrick are confident enough that they have managed to successfully deflect most attempts at teasing. They found their respective niches," Helena explained. "Catherine has struggled, though I think she's beginning to find her feet. We saw her teacher just a few days before leaving for Australia…" She continued to update her wife on the meeting and the resulting conversations that they'd had with their daughter.
The more they talked, the more relaxed they both felt. Myka lost the last hint of harshness from her tone and they managed to spend an hour discussing visits and lessons for the next month. Fredrick's teachers had agreed to send assignment home for him and between them they managed to plan Myka's visits for the next week. As they ran out of segues and questions though, the conversation fizzled out and Myka suddenly realised that she'd forgotten all about Egypt and its associated devastation.
She cleared her throat and swallowed the smile that had crept onto her features. "I think that's sorted then," she finished uneasily.
A wave of disappointment crashed into the inventor. "Of course. You're not staying until Fredrick and Catherine come home?" she asked hopefully.
"I told Pete that I'd stop by, so I'll see them there," Myka replied as she slipped off the couch and placed some distance between them again. Her heart was drumming a rapid staccato in her chest and her brain took her to another couch in a bed and breakfast in South Dakota. She avoided eye contact as she tried to shake the provocative images from her mind.
HG watched a blush creep along her wife's neck and wondered at its source. More often than not, embarrassment was a direct result of salacious thought, but since she no longer had a direct link to Myka's feelings, she thought it best to avoid probing. A tiny part of her decided to take the abrupt change in behaviour as a sign that the brunette was still affected by their close proximity. A positive sign, she hoped.
As the front door closed behind Myka and the house fell silent, Helena stood in the hallway, at a loss for what to do with herself next. It was the first time she'd truly been alone since she'd been living in her small town-house in Rapid City sixteen years ago. While she had physically spent time without company, since reconnecting to Myka, she had had a deeper link that was always with her and now, the emptiness that suddenly filled her was jarring.
Arms crossed her torso, hugging her body tightly and trying to keep all of her insides from falling out. Not knowing what else to do, she returned to the living room and reclaimed her position on the couch. Two feet found the edge of the seat, pushing her knees into her chest, where her arms fell to hold them in place. She wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring into space as silent tears painted tracks along her cheeks, but at some point, an insistent mewling drew her attention and she looked up to find a furry face watching her intently.
For several minutes, human and feline engaged in a battle of wills, each taunting the other, daring them to make a move, until the inventor rolled her eyes and lowered her feet to the floor. I must be desperate, a grumpy voice sounded in her head as she raised a questioning eyebrow and patted her lap, inviting the creature closer.
Helena tried to convince herself, as her fingers stroked through warm fur and her tears flowed a little less painfully, that she still disliked the animal and always had; that he was arrogant, unhygienic and generally a pain in the arse, but her daughter found something to love about the cat so she tolerated him. Now, despite her best effort not to, she found comfort in his warmth and the enthusiasm of his purring.
"I suppose you are not wholly evil," she muttered to the top of a flickering ear. Her fingers traced barely discernible stripes in the black fur and both of them sighed. "I suppose that applies to the both of us. Though I wish that Myka could see that more clearly."
"Mummy?"
Helena's head snapped round, her eyes wide as she met the gaze of her youngest child. "Oh! Catherine, I didn't realise that you were home." She moved to lift the cat from her lap but felt claws extend into her trousers just as her daughter leaped over the arm of the couch and landed next to her. "I see how it is," she hissed to the feline. "Are all your loyalties so fickle?"
"Mum," Catherine frowned and scrutinised her mother's face more closely. "Your eyes are red. Were you crying?" She lowered her voice and shuffled closer. "It's ok," she whispered and wrapped her arms around the inventor's neck.
HG laughed wetly and leant against the youngster. How does an eleven-year-old become so wise? she thought for a second. She knew that Catherine's words weren't to tell her that everything with Myka would be ok, but that in this moment, it was ok to cry. "Thank you, my darling. Did you enjoy your afternoon with the Lattimer brood?"
Cat shrugged. "Jake was being weird so I watched TV with Sophie and then I played backgammon with Mama." She laid a hand absentmindedly on top of her pet's head and began a light scratching that gradually dislodged clumps of fur and brought an expression of distaste to her mother's expression, to which she paid no attention. "I heard her talking to Uncle Pete about you," she said in an offhand manner that was entirely forced.
Helena forced an equally offhand tone as she answered, "And what did she have to say?"
"She told Uncle Pete that you're still dangerously alluring. Doesn't alluring mean sexy?" the girl asked without pause.
Clearing her throat and head from the shock of her daughter's words, HG turned to reply, "It could be interpreted that way." She wasn't sure whether her cheeks were red or not, but a definite warmth crept up from her neck.
"That's gross," Catherine pulled a face before mellowing. "But I guess it's good if it means that Mama wants to kiss you. Then she'll come back home and live with us again so you can copulate in your bedroom."
Anyone watching would have found the inventor's bug-eyed expression comical as she spluttered and jumped so violently in her seat that she unintentionally dislodged the creature curled in her lap. Spyder jumped down, threw the adult human a dirty look and wandered out of the room. "Copu'… what!?"
"Copulate. It means 'have sex'. Didn't you know that, Mum?" the girl responded, her innocence genuine this time.
"Where did you hear that word?" the inventor asked carefully. While she and Myka had discussed puberty and some of the basics of reproduction with their youngest, they had yet to open the floor to more detail about recreational sex or how the egg and sperm traditionally found their way together to create a zygote.
"On 'The Big Bang Theory'. Sophie likes watching old shows," she explained before continuing with her previous line of thought, "If you and Mama are copulating, she'll have to live with us again, won't she?"
Helena looked at the eleven-year-old with a mixture of pity and amazement. "It's not a prerequisite, love, no. And I believe that we're getting way ahead of ourselves in discussing this."
Catherine frowned and gazed at her mother in confusion. "You do want Mama to come home, don't you, Mum?"
Reaching over to tuck a lock of stray hair behind an ear, HG smiled softly. "Of course, I do. But, Catherine, you need to understand that, while there might still be a physical attraction between us, living together requires more than wanting to kiss… or copulate."
"You said that Mama still loves you," the girl replied stubbornly.
"And so, I believe she does. But," she added insistently before her daughter could interrupt, "she is still upset about the choices I made in the past, and she is still confused about how she fits into this life that she can't remember. I know how impatient you usually are, but all good things come to those who wait."
"That's not entirely true, Mum," Cat replied contemptuously. "Sometimes you have to be pro-active. You told me that!"
HG huffed with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "So I did. And if the opportunity arises where I feel that patience is not the best choice then I will, as you say, be pro-active. Satisfied?"
"I will be," Catherine answered before laying her head on her mother's shoulder. "When Mama's home."
Helena rolled her eyes and muttered 'stubborn' under her breath before changing the subject. "Where's your brother?"
"Outside. He's talking to Tommy about hydrotherapy, again!" the girl replied with an eyeroll to rival her mother's.
The inventor smiled at her daughter's obvious irritation and turned her head to kiss the closest piece of skin she could find. "Let us fetch the big water-baby then. It's getting late. Do you have a preference for dinner?"
Letting her children's natural exuberance lift her spirits, Helena gave Fredrick a task that he could manage at the kitchen island and allowed Catherine to follow her around, preparing a cheese sauce and measuring pasta. She was well aware that her son would probably rather be in his room, doing whatever it was that teenaged boys liked to do, but he was cutting vegetables without complaint, keeping his mother company, and she appreciated his presence all the more because of it. As she slid a brimming baking dish into the oven, she made a mental note to organise a day out for him without his mothers and sisters.
Pretending not to notice the bushy tail curling over Catherine's leg as she said goodnight a few hours later, Helena retreated to her own room, showered and crawled into her own bed. She had no delusions of being able to slip easily into sleep, but all energy seemed to have drained from her body and the darkness allowed her to call on memories that helped to calm her emotions.
She wondered what Myka was doing at that very moment. What was she thinking about? What did she plan to do next? Did she think any better or less of Helena since getting to know their life a little? Did she have any further insights into the investigation? The questions seemed endless and, somewhere close to midnight, they followed her into sleep.
Claudia ground her teeth together as she stood behind the man sitting in his desk chair, pushing the keys of her laptop with his sausage fingers. "Dude! I came to you for help, not so you could break all my toys with your geriatric fumbling!" she groused as she gently but insistently removed a jumble of wires and plastic from Artie's hands. The ex-director glared at his protégé. "Don't think you're going to find your hips anytime soon," she commented with a critical eye as she watched him adopt a disapproving stance.
"Did you come here just to insult me?" he asked bluntly. "I am not senile and I know what your problem is." He held out a hand and waited expectantly for the woman to hand the device back. Once he had it again, he deliberately took his time, hoping to torture the insolent red head a little.
It was their usual back and forth dance and, though neither would admit it, they missed these pseudo father/daughter moments. Claudia constantly insisted that Artie was old and useless even when she kept returning to ask for his help, and Artie grumbled each time she turned up on his doorstep, reminding her that he was retired and just wanted to live 'the quiet life' with his spouse. Deep down, they both knew that they needed each other for more than technical or supernatural advice, but the pretext suited them and by unspoken agreement, they kept to the status quo.
"Ooh!" Claudia suddenly squeaked with excitement as her gadget lit up like a Christmas tree. "We've got it. I'm tracking her cell."
"You're welcome," Artie muttered pointedly.
"Yeah, yeah, grumpy bear," the caretaker rolled her eyes fondly. "Do you want a gold star?" she winked and then laughed at the series of grumbled insults that followed.
"Where is she then?" he asked impatiently.
All jovial feeling drained from her face and a frown settled on her brow. "Garden City. That's a long way from where she last checked in."
"She's heading back this way," Artie concluded as he studied the under-cover agent's journey.
"She was supposed to head east next, to Boston," Claudia explained as her expression became more concerned. "But she seems to have stopped moving. According to her phone's location tracking she's been in Garden City for a week."
"Send a squad. Thomas's would be best I think," Artie suggested, as if he was giving an order. "If there's anything to retrieve, they'll find it."
Claudia nodded and then announced a snap decision, "I should go with them."
"You delegate," Artie noted adamantly, "so you can keep tabs on the rest of your team. Including the Warehouse's new crew. You'll regret spreading yourself so thin if you go chasing after each problem personally."
"I'm hands on," Claudia argued pointlessly.
"Do you remember what happened when I tried to be too hands on? You hit me with a two-by-two and then with a car door," he reminded her and couldn't help rubbing the back of his head where he swore he could sometimes still feel a lump.
Adopting a look of youthful innocence, the red head appeared inscrutable for a second. "Are you saying that I'll be attacked with random objects if I get involved?"
Artie frowned, allowing his eyebrows to draw together into one long, bushy caterpillar. "Yes, if it persuades you to lead from behind."
Claudia glared at him at length, eventually having to shake her head to drag herself out of a hypnotic state, induced by the abundance of facial hair. "It's like they're alive," she mumbled to herself, a stray hand reaching out, a finger daring to poke at an eyebrow.
A severe eye-roll punctuated her comment and the ex-director gripped the back of the chair that he stood behind. "If you insist on being an idiot, they might just jump off randomly and attack."
"Ok," the red head jumped and held her hands up in surrender. "Point. Taken. Put the eyebrows away, grandpa." She sighed, glanced back at the tracking device and nodded with a new note of seriousness. "I'll send Thomas and his team."
"I know you don't like it, but with questions over everyone at the new Warehouse, you need to be there." Artie returned the caretaker's expression and added to it with an edge of sympathy. They both knew that he was right, and she really didn't like it.
I miss Claudia and Artie.