Leena explained, far more calmly than Myka could have possibly expected, that in fact she and Helena had found their way into an on going investigation by the F.B.I. and through Interpol several other policing authorities around the world.

Arthur Weisfelt had in fact been an N.S.A. agent but he'd disappeared into deep cover decades ago. On account of his connection to former British intelligence officer and current criminal, James McPherson he had resurface as "Artie Nielsen." Their familiarity had been a perfect way of infiltrating a prolific art theft and counterfeiting ring that was thought responsible for millions of dollars worth of missing works and more than a few murder's, Christina Wells counted among them.

The matter was serious and they had severely impeded a federal investigation. Myka couldn't help but feel Leena's compassion however and although they were assured that some kind of consequence would be forth coming, the agent inexplicably took pity on Helena and assured that she would vouch for them in due course, as well as granting their immediate freedom.

Outside of the museum they were met with an ambulance attending to a vociferous Weisfelt as well as a ring of city police cars that cordoned off the Institutes entrance. Myka wrapped her arm around a still silent and shaken Helena as they exited, Leena directing them to one more surprise.

Perched on the hood of a police car and half way through a box of donuts, sat Pete and Claudia.

"Mykes!" Pete called as Leena took them through the crowd of officers and agents.

"What are you doing here?" Myka offered, dumbfounded but honestly pleased by their presence.

"Are you ok?!" Pete continued ignoring the question and drawing her into a hug, his eyes flashing briefly to Helena.

"We'll be ok" Myka replied, with a heavy breath, stepping back and taking Helena's hand, greatful for the persistence of her friends.

Events had been dramatic but with the arrival of familiar faces Myka found herself stopping to consider the holiday season again, even after what they'd been through it was still important.

"What about your family?" She questioned, turning from Pete to Claudia.

"What about your brother? We can't just drag you away from them at Christmas!"

"Hey you're family too," Pete grinned back, assurance returning to his face.

"Yeah!" Claudia added.

"Plus, I left Josh at home with Jinxy. I figure the two love birds could use some time alone." She offered with an easy grin.

" and we gotta make sure you're ok!" Pete completed.

"Mr responsible here..." Claudia continued, hopping off the car and flashing an amused but understanding smile Myka's way as she pointed to Pete.

"...got worried about what you were doing. So we called Leena to double check on were the Professor was supposed to be. She put two and two together aaand here we are." She announced, throwing a concerned glance Helena's way.

"We got here just in time, huh! She ok?"

Helena was still impassive, her eyes either cast to the ground or lost in the middle distance.

"She will be." Myka re iterated, drawing Helena closer.

"They released us for now but they're sending us home under escort. Since Helena's over 21 and she's got no family in the country anyway, I'm taking her home with me."

Claudia and Pete both nodded, aware of the added consequence that knowledge of the day's events might bring to Myka's family life.

"You want us to come with you?" Pete offered with an earnest and worried smile.

"No, get back home, sing Christmas carols and eat fruit cake!" Myka insisted. The clarity and confidence in just who she and Helena were, what the day had challenged them with and how they'd come through it, clear in her mind.

"We'll be ok."

What Myka didn't hear as Leena saw them into the back of her car, was Claudia leaning over to Pete and considering.

"Dude... you think that those two will ever be able to just flirt? I mean without the need for mortal danger!"

Arriving back in Colorado Springs, this time escorted by Leena and her partner, Agent Cho, Myka took in her parent's store. The title Bering and Sons, etched on to the widow with all of the promise and expectation that it always held for her, was lit from behind by the lights inside. She watched as her parents with her sister following, made their way out into the snow and the gathering dusk as Leena pulled up in front of the store.

"Now," She began, turning in her seat to face them matter of factly.

"Someone will be here tomorrow to check up on you and to finalise things." She explained.

" but between you and me? It's gonna be fine." She assured.

"You want us to come in with you?"

"I think it might be better if you don't" Myka reasoned. She had a lot to talk about with her parents anyway and now, even more to explain.

"My Dad's not big on guns, or police."

"Fair enough." Leena smiled, nodding with an amused grin.

"But if you need to call, either of you, then here's my number." She added, searching each young woman's face with an earnest empathy and passing Myka her card.

Jeannie, Tracy and even Warren greeted them with tentative hugs, gathering them inside and up stairs before questions were asked, before answers were demanded.

"So.." Jeannie began as for the second time in as many days Myka's bags were laid down upon arrival in her childhood home.

"Sweetheart, we should talk." She carefully instructed, looking Myka over with concerned but kind eyes and glancing once at a subdued but more present Helena.

Myka had spent a good portion of the plane journey from Chicago back to Denver considering what to tell her family, working out what to say to them and working out what her reasons really were. Even if they had gotten in over their heads and even if Helena's demons had been brutally exposed to the world, it all seemed clearer than it might have.

Her very first priority though, was making sure Helena was alright.

"We will Mom." She assured, reaching out with concern to Jeannie and gathering a measured insistence to glance toward her father.

"But first, I'm going to get Helena settled. She could use some rest."

Not waiting for her parents reply but simply taking Helena's hand and leading her to the bedroom, Myka insisted with her actions as well as her words."

Her childhood room was the same as it had always been. A single bed rested against one wall with neatly made sheets and a utilitarian dresser and wardrobe set rested next to it. The sparseness of the items was countered by the desk that accompanied them, it was antique, dark wood and not impeccably maintained but instead marked with the ware of Myka's usage and that of it's previous owners. Framing it were two book cases filled to the brim with works of as many different sizes and shapes as books probably came in. They were catalogued and organised into subject matter and author with clear labels and separators marking each section. The conspicuous gaps dotted throughout were un missable, they were gaps left by Myka's years away at college and her need to carry at least some of her collection with her.

Closing the door behind them, Myka shrugged of her coat and hung it. She carefully watched as Helena slowly sat down on the bed, refusing to make eye contact.

"Helena." Myka soothed slowly sitting next to her.

"It's ok."

They'd talked only briefly during the journey back, Helena had afforded only the basic communication necessary for such a trip and she'd displayed none of her characteristic wit or energy the entire time. She had however, rarely let go of contact with Myka, either through a hand held as they traversed an airport or a head rested on Myka's shoulder on the plane or in the car. She was making every effort to distance herself but she seemed incapable of it too.

Silence stretched out between them as they sat, Myka finally breaking it, once again linking their hands.

"Talk to me." She insisted, ducking her head, trying to meet Helena's gaze.

Helena let out a breath that was more steady and energetic than any she'd managed since the gallery.

"How can I ?" She started.

"How can I possibly explain what I did or how I'm feeling?! I almost killed a man! Even if it was revenge, how is it any different than what happened to Christina?!"

What she was saying was true, she'd clearly been prepared to end the life of whoever appeared to steal the painting, weather they lead to her sister's killers or not.

"But you didn't." Myka clarified slowly.

"I wanted to." Helena countered, rasing from the bed and breaking contact with Myka's hand.

"I still want to! That darkness, that rage it's inside me." She insisted, pacing the room.

"I feel like it's all that's left!" Her voice raised regardless of her surroundings, her arms thrown wide.

Myka paused to consider what she was saying. She knew that it was a part of Helena, a part that she couldn't push away or ignore but she knew more than that as well.

"Oh don't!" She began.

"You're right, it's there but it's not all that's there!" Myka was almost matching Helena in volume but she was carrying with her the instance, the certainty that she'd found through the days events.

"You didn't kill him! I saw who you are a long time ago, I had faith in you and I was right!"

Raising from her own seat, she approached her wide eyed companion and took her hand back, cupping her cheek and drawing their foreheads together.

"Ok?" She whispered.

When Myka returned to her family Warren and Tracy were waiting expectantly in the living room, gathered on the furniture that had seen an entire childhood through and lit as they had been a day earlier, by the lights of their Christmas tree.

Jeannie was waiting outside Myka's room.

"Helena's resting." Myka began deliberately.

"She hasn't got any family in the country and she kinda needs some right now..."

Pausing once to look down at her hands, she added.

"...and she's important to me."

Looking back at her Mom, Myka admitted.

"I guess you need an explanation though."

Jeannie's forehead creased carefully in thought and she replied.

"They explained most of it on the phone."

Mother and Daughter paused, the question in both of their minds awkwardly hanging between them.

"Look, I know I've put you guys through a lot already and this is only more.. but Mom I had to do it and honestly..." She raced out, eyes darting to the living room.

"...I don't care if he's mad."

Jeannie just smiled.

"Sweetheart..." She began before pausing to find the right words.

"...there's something you should see."

Jeannie gathered Myka into her own bedroom, decisively reaching into her husbands dresser draw to pull out a printed manuscript. She affectionately brushed her hand across it's cover before passing it to Myka. Myka looked from her Mom to the manuscript, confused and read it's title out load.

"The Blue Willow Sky.." She began.

"..by Warren Bering? Dad wrote a book!?"

Myka's mother and father loved the written word, it was their livelihood and their passion, they'd passed it on to Myka but this was a detail of her father's literary life that she had known nothing about.

"He's been writing it and re writing it for decades." Jeannie explained.

"He gave up a long time ago and he didn't touch it again, until last year."

Last year had been when Myka came out. The unresolved tension within their family about her transition, about her life and who she was, remained unresolved. She was sure that what she'd done with Helena in Chicago would only add to her family's pain, to their confusion about her life.

Myka was still pondering the manuscript's implications when she recognised Warren's un mistakable foot steps entering the room. Looking up at him, she felt her first pang of fear since they'd returned evening.

Warren's expression was pensive but steady, pausing in the doorway he only offered.

"You should read it."

Myka looked between her father and the manuscript, unsure of his intention, unable to read his emotion.

"Go on," Warren insisted, approaching Myka and Jeannie and opening the papers to their first page.

"Read."

Myka hesitantly drew her eyes to the page. Gathering in the words, she reading them out loud at her father's request.

"When the girl was born.." She began.

"..his first thought was fear. For what? For his daughter, she was his life. His only job now was keeping her safe."

Myka paused, her concentration broken by the word's implication. As she gathered herself up to read on, she felt her father's hand on her shoulder.

"You've got your own life." He started.

"You're growing up and I should have paid more attention to that."

Myka looked from the pages to meet Warren's stare as he continued.

"Maybe it's time we talked about something other than books."