Thank you for any responses from the last chapter. I'm glad Christina's adventures in the book store were to your liking.
I'm kind of flying by the seat of my pants with this story at the moment, so any thoughts and suggestions are welcome. Plot still very much working in the background so I can focus on the family, but I'm sure this chapter is going to throw up a few questions...
Chapter Eight
Myka's controlled concern came through, reaching immediately into Jeannie Bering's deepest maternal instincts.
"Mom, please? Something's wrong with Helena and I need someone I trust to keep an eye on Christina."
Jeannie barely caught the whispered plea, but she understood and instinct kicked in; there was no way she could ignore it. "It'll let your father know and then I'll be on my way," she promised.
It didn't take long for the anxious woman to make it across town to where Myka and her family were staying. Warren had suggested more than once in the past month that they should visit but she couldn't bring herself to agree. It was hard enough seeing the looks that passed between the pair in the shop and the display they'd put on at Myka's birthday gathering, but in private, they would have less reason to control their affection and she wasn't sure she was prepared to deal with that level of intimacy.
Not knowing what to expect, she jogged up to the front door and knocked cautiously. "Myka!?" she called so they would know it was her. Her ears caught the sound of voices and light footsteps before the barrier swung inward and Christina's closed features met her own. They stared at one another for several seconds before she decided to take the initiative and wandered in. "Myka?"
"In here!" the ex-Secret Service agent's voice called out from the bedroom.
Jeannie heard voices coming from that direction and instantly felt a reluctance to move forward, she expected to hear a higher level of panic in her daughter's tone but it was almost even and so was the one that answered it. Hoping that her imagination was simply running wild, she pushed the partially open bedroom door and stepped tentatively inside.
At first she didn't realise the problem but when she took a longer look at the Brit, she quickly saw what was wrong. She stared and blinked, her mouth hanging open. She could see through Myka's fiancée.
HG was pacing past the window, where the curtains were drawn against prying eyes and Jeannie could quite clearly see the abstract pattern of the curtain fabric through every part of her body. Two pairs of eyes turned to look at her as a small figure brushed passed and scrambled up onto the bed.
"What? How...?" Jeannie began before trailing off.
"Precisely what we are trying to establish," Helena sighed as she rubbed a spot along her brow.
Myka pushed her fingers into her hair. "Mom, you remember what happened with Dad and Poe's notebook?" She saw her mother's frown deepen in thought, followed by a slow nod. "This is one of those situations." She glanced at her daughter who was sitting on the bed looking sulky. "We need to go out and re-trace Helena's steps. See if we can find what she's been in contact with. Will you stay here with Christina, please?"
Mrs Bering looked between her daughter and the eight-year-old. She smiled softly, seeing a stubbornness in those adorable features that reminded of her own girls at that age. "Of course. I'm sure we can find something to do."
Myka nodded and tried not to take offense at the hard stare from the bed. Turning to her fiancée she looked Helena up and down, thinking aloud, "We need to find something to cover you from head to toe." A smile almost crept upon her lips. How many of her own characters was HG going to bring to life?
After listening to her daughter and the Brit's voices bickering affectionately over the best way to disguise Helena's condition, Jeannie watched as Myka sat on a dining chair to pull a pouting child closer.
"Sweetie, I know how much you want to help right now and I know you're frustrated because we're making you stay here." The agent wrapped an arm around narrow shoulders as a head fell against her chest. "I know you'll worry while we're not here, but it's our job to make sure you're safe."
Helena wandered over from the bedroom doorway, her entire body covered including gloves, scarf, hat and what felt like an inch-thick of foundation. Her eyes were barely visible through the make-up and she held a pair of sunglasses in her hand. She knelt next to her lover's chair and tucked a strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "We'll call if we're going to be late but I imagine that we'll be back before you know it. Uncle Pete should be here before long too."
The agents disappeared and Jeannie shared a look with her eldest that promised she would take good care of the unhappy girl. It was hard work finding something to distract Christina with though. No book, game or television programme was good enough. Eventually, she spotted a jigsaw on a shelf and began setting it up on the dining table. With a sly half-smile, knowing that the child was watching her, she started randomly searching through the small pieces for two that would fit together. In no time at all, the eight-year-old joined her and began to take over.
"You must start with the edges," Christina dictated. "Look for the straight pieces first and put them in a pile."
Jeannie nodded and put her non-edge pieces back in the box and began an attempt to make conversation. "That's a very sensible idea. Did Myka tell you that?"
Christina shifted up onto her knees so she had a better vantage point to see everything on the table. She seemed unaware that she was allowing herself to be distracted. "Mm-hm," she nodded. "Mama says it's more fun when you work... symptomatically."
Mrs Bering chuckled lightly. "Systematically?"
"What did I say?" the girl wondered aloud.
"Symptomatically," Jeannie repeated helpfully.
"Oh. Yes, you're right. Work with a system so you can keep track of what you're doing and not become frustrated." Having paused to consider the word she wanted to use, Christina returned to her task, carefully moving her discarded pieces to one side, missing the growing fondness across the table.
There came a peaceful period where nothing but the sound of clattering jigsaw pieces and the occasional hum of victory when another piece was found. Out of the corner of her eye, the older woman watched the eight-year-old closely.
Was it her imagination; some odd side effect of her burgeoning acceptance of her daughter's lifestyle, or did this child really have as many small nuances of Myka's appearance as she was seeing?
It began with her noticing an occasional expression, a slight confusion that pulled the child's brow together in a certain way. But the longer Jeannie studied the girl, the more those subtle features stood out. Ignoring the obvious influence of the Brit in Christina's appearance, she began to see more and more of her eldest girl sitting before her. How was that possible?
They had the corner pieces and a few more to make up part of the frame before Christina decided to put some of her inner monologue into words. "Why do you not like us?"
Jeannie froze momentarily. The child's words were said with such innocence that a pang of guilt pulled at her insides and she found herself at a loss for words. As several seconds passed, she took a breath and decided that she couldn't avoid the subject.
"I don't dislike any of you," she defended. It was the truth now. After spending more time around Helena Wells she no longer assumed that the Brit was an evil entity set on destroying her daughter and dragging Myka into a den of depravity, but it wasn't so long ago that the words would have tasted a lie. She didn't know where to begin to explain her reasoning to a child; every excuse that sprang to mind seemed ridiculous and she was reluctant to hear the words spoken aloud.
Apparently deciding that the woman's pause was dragging on too long, Christina fiddled with two jigsaw pieces and opened her thoughts to the room again. "Mama says you don't understand why she loves Mummy and it makes you uncomfortable." She pushed bits of the puzzle around absentmindedly as she repeated snippets of conversations she'd had with (or overheard from) her parents. "Mummy says that fear makes some people angry and bloody minded."
"Your mother said that to you?" Jeannie interrupted, sounding slightly outraged.
Christina glanced up contritely. "She didn't know I was listening that time. I think it means that people are stubborn." Her expression changed, becoming introspective as she considered the thought. "Is that from fight or flight do you think? Abigail helped me when I was afraid of Mummy or Mama being hurt and I got into trouble for being stubborn and not making good choices. I have time out sometimes. Mostly when I don't understand what's happening or when I'm afraid," she explained, sounding proud of her deductions, though many of her words were parroted from her friend and counsellor.
Jeannie swallowed her shame. How did one small girl have such power to make her insides squirm? "I don't dislike any of you," she repeated, making time. "Myka's right though; I don't understand how she can love another woman the way that she should love a man." Then, from the tip of her tongue, came one thought that had played on repeat in her mind since first finding out about Helena, "Don't you think it would be better to have a mother and a father?"
"Why?" the eight-year-old immediately wondered. "If Mummy married a man, I wouldn't have my Mama any longer," she reasoned. "That would not be better."
Jeannie had no answer to that. From the child's perspective, her family already included everyone she needed. What could she say that would sound reasonable compared to having the two parents Christina loved? Could that in fact be better than Myka having a husband at this point? She would never have wanted Myka to choose this path but perhaps it was time to accept that the path had already been chosen and that there was no turning back. Perhaps the question now was, could she put aside her opinions for the sake of family? Could she live with her daughter's choices and simply be content with the fact that she was happy and apparently well loved?
Putting the car into drive and pulling out of the apartment parking lot, Myka glanced in the rear view mirror at their temporary home and frowned. "Do you think she'll be ok?"
"Not to worry, darling. I'm certain Christina will not be overly harsh with her," Helena answered, the teasing evident in her tone.
"Ha, ha," Agent Bering responded as she rolled her eyes. She shook her head even as a smile crept along her lips.
The inventor placed her gloved hand on Myka's knee and gave it a small squeeze. "She will be fine. If anything, I think affording your mother the opportunity to see the world from our daughter's perspective can only be a good thing."
Myka nodded slowly. "You're probably right. I think she might be mellowing a bit. A little emotional shove might be just what she needs." Thinking back to their daughter, she frowned again. "Christina is going to insist on being more involved in these incidents eventually. What do we do?"
HG sat in silent contemplation for several long seconds before she answered. "If we cannot prevent who she is going to become then our only recourse is to train her to the best of our ability."
Myka heard the resignation in her lover's tone and reached across to return the comforting knee-squeeze. "Into a Matrix style ninja apparently."
Recalling that long movie-night at the bed and breakfast, and her time in Hollywood, Helena rolled her eyes. "I do wish Pete would stop trying to 'educate' me in the ways of modern culture. Our opinions on what constitutes a classic differ rather radically." She shook her head and then gasped as she spotted something out of the window. "Darling, pull over after the next right turn."
"Is this where you went?" Myka asked, frowning as she looked around and couldn't see any stores close by.
"No, the convenience store is another block along," HG waited until the car rolled to a stop, unbuckled her belt and stepped from the car. She heard the clunk of the car lock and knew that Myka was following. "Myka, do you see these markings?"
In front of them was the back of a wide building with evidence of fresh and old graffiti. Patches of paint concealed where someone had attempted recent cover-ups. The blood-red scribblings the agents stared at were the most recent additions.
The brunette tilted her head to examine the graffiti. "I think I know this. I've seen it before." She turned to her fiancée with an expression of shock as she pulled the memory from storage. "Helena, these... symbols were in your grandmother's study. I remember a bunch of papers lying on her desk with markings like these!"
"I thought as much," the inventor's body language betrayed some of her disbelief while her hood, hat, sunglasses and makeup hid her face too much to give anything else away. "I had a feeling that you would be able to confirm it." A hand reached towards her head automatically but stopped when she realised that she couldn't run her fingers through her hair at the moment. "What are they doing here?"
Myka took a step back to study the area a little better and quickly froze. "Oh my God." Her hand rose to cover her mouth and she stared at the street for a long moment before a gloved hand landed on her lower back, drawing her attention.
"Love?"
"Helena, this is my pre-school!" She pointed at the building, her finger jabbing the air repeatedly as a sliver of fear crawled along her spine. "I... I didn't take much notice of it when we pulled up here, I mean, I haven't been to this building since I was about six and my parents were dropping Tracy off before taking me to school. How can this be connected with you and Norrie!?"
Seeing her lover's growing panic, Helena wrapped her arms around tense shoulders and pulled Myka close. "Darling, whatever the connection, we will solve it. We just need to look at everything objectively." Looking into wide, green eyes, the inventor tried not to let her own trepidation show. "Myka, we knew that we would find traces of something that connects our past and future. If this was intended for us, now? Then it's likely that whoever is out there is attempting to intimidate us. It is up to us to make sure that doesn't happen."
"Ok. Ok," Agent Bering slowed her breathing as she absorbed Helena's words and tried to calm down. She took her phone from her pocket and snapped a picture of the writing on the wall. "I think we should get back to the apartment and wait there for Pete though." There was fear in her eyes still as she turned swiftly back to the car, Helena nodding frantically and hot on her heels.
"I'm going to call your mother and check in," HG explained, her feet carrying her past Myka. Another clunk signalled the doors opening remotely so that she was in the passenger seat and buckled up by the time the call connected.
"Hello?" Mrs Bering answered politely from the apartment phone.
Helena injected a semblance of calm into her tone as Myka swung the car around and started back toward the resort. "Jeannie, Myka and I have hit a slight snag in our investigation. We're returning now and I just wanted to check that everything was going well at your end?"
Agent Bering half listened to her fiancée as she accelerated through an amber light. It was stupid to be upset over a little coincidence, right? But as there had been so many of them popping up of late, her anxieties were kicking into overdrive. As she heard her mother's calm tone and after a minute, Christina's somewhat brightened voice, she eased her foot off the gas slightly and forced herself to take slower breaths.
"Yes, my love, I'm sure we will have some time to help you with your jigsaw while we wait for Uncle Pete to arrive, though we will have to work too; we haven't quite figured out all the angles of this 'invisibility' situation yet." Helena chuckled at her daughter's reply and smiled at her partner, the gesture going some way to calming both of their fears. "There is also the possibility of you aiding our investigation, yes. Christina, would you please put your grandmother back on the phone?"
"Yes?" Jeannie's curious voice came through the receiver.
"Jeannie, you haven't had any visitors pop by since our departure, have you?" HG asked as casually as she could manage.
"No. No one has been by. Were you expecting anyone?"
"Not at all. Pete will be a few hours I should imagine. There would be no need for you to answer the door until we're back."
Mrs Bering heard the underlying caution in the Brit's words and decided not to make any further enquiries over the phone. "If you say so. I expect my daughter will explain everything when you arrive though?"
"Certainly. We will attempt to explain as much as we are able."
"That's not the same as everything," the older woman pointed out coolly.
Helena shot a look at her fiancée, her eyebrow raised. "Your mother would like full disclosure," she explained. Seeing Myka roll her eyes and sigh, she tried again to segue. "Further negotiations will have to wait I'm afraid. That's not a decision to be taken lightly." She heard the exasperation in her future mother-in-law's tone and chose to ignore it. "How has Christina been? She can be rather... abrasive when she has a bee in her bonnet."
"I raised two girls; I'm more than capable of handling the odd tantrum. She's been fine though." Feeling the awkwardness of her forced responses, Jeannie asked whether the inventor wanted to speak to the child again and handed over the phone.
HG kept her daughter on the line until the apartments were in sight and she was able to breathe a little easier. Myka's tenseness drained visibly from her body. They pulled into their designated parking space and shared a quiet moment before getting out.
Christina greeted them at the door, hugging and chatting while both agents tried not to appear alarmingly effusive with their returned embraces. They didn't want to worry the girl prematurely. Especially since they were not entirely sure whether there was anything to be upset about. Yet.
Helena retreated to the bathroom after several minutes of complaining of the heat and returned without her disguise so that she was nothing more than a wisp as she passed Mrs Bering in the kitchenette and found a space at the table. All the curtains were drawn and Myka reached out to grasp her barely-there hand in comfort.
"Mummy, you'd be excellent at hide and seek now," Christina observed from her seat opposite. "Do you want to play?"
"I'm afraid there's not a lot of space in here, my love. And I don't think it would be advisable for me to venture outside like this, do you?" Helena chuckled. "Can you imagine the chaos that might ensue?"
Christina giggled as she took the time to picture the scene. "You could pick things up and I could pretend to be a witch who's making them levitate."
Myka found a small ladder of ribs with her fingers and elicited a burst of startled laughter from her daughter. "That's a bit too devious for a Thursday afternoon, don't you think?"
An atmosphere of composed anticipation settled on the apartment, the three at the table continuing with the puzzle while Jeannie, who refused to leave without further explanation, sat on the sofa with a cup of tea and pretended to read.
Pete arrived early evening and set off with Helena, who chose comfort over her disguise as she had become completely transparent. It unnerved her temporary partner slightly as they drove the short distance back into the city centre and continued the investigation, but HG assured him that she would keep a low profile.
Myka continued to sit at the dining table where her laptop and research had taken the place of the jigsaw. Christina insisted on helping and currently sat on the floor, categorising her mother's notes. It wasn't a necessary job but it kept her occupied and feeling useful, which made her Mama happy.
The eight-year-old's bedtime eventually arrived and Myka called Pete so that he could put Helena on speaker-phone to say goodnight. They were making good progress, having identified the artefact as a charm on a bracelet.
After meticulously walking Agent Lattimer through her trip to the store, they honed in on the moment when, in the freezer aisle, HG had collided with a woman and stopped to help her pick up her belongings. In hindsight, it seemed slightly odd that a bracelet should have come unhinged when the inventor had barely touched the arm to which it attached. They weren't yet clear on whether the act had been deliberate or not but Helena wasn't ruling it out at this point.
Claudia had returned from a snag and joined Artie at the Warehouse to begin the search for clues. Nothing to do with the markings could be found, but she did manage to access the CCTV in the store to identify the woman with the charm and guided Pete and Helena in her direction.
Agent Lattimer was first through the door of the small semi, his Tesla raised and ready for an attack that didn't come. He couldn't hear his colleague move but as he checked the downstairs and found nothing, a startled cry came from the first floor. He hot footed up the stairs to investigate and found their suspect lying on the floor of the master bedroom, struggling against an invisible force.
"If you would be so kind as to help me tie her up, Pete?" HG's strained voice came from the same direction.
Snapping to attention, Agent Lattimer did as he was told. After pulling the woman off the floor and making her sit on the bed, Pete asked the inventor if she could see the artefact anywhere.
Not seeing it on the woman's wrist, Helena glanced around, contemplating where she could have hidden it. "You deliberately collided with me in the convenience store," she accused with no preamble. "Why?"
The Captive remained silent, eyes fixed firmly on a spot on the carpet until a sharp pain flared between her shoulder blades and she found herself forced forward. "Ah! I just needed someone to test it on!"
Pete took a hesitant step forward. Somehow, not being able to see the expression on his friend's face, this act of physical interrogation seemed much more violent. "HG?" he inquired cautiously. Hadn't Kevin Bacon gone insane after becoming invisible? He couldn't afford to let that happen here. "You ok?"
"Spiffy," Helena responded. Back to her captive though, she didn't let up the pressure. "I don't think so. We found your message. Now, I am going to release your arms and you are going to decide to be chatty all of a sudden. I have worked hard to find redemption but you never know, today might be the day I suffer a relapse."
Feeling invisible hands loosing their hold, the captive let out a breath of relief and rolled her shoulders gingerly "I had to prove my worth to them," she hissed hatefully.
"Where's the artefact?" Agent Lattimer butted in, partially to remind the inventor that he was involved in this investigation too. She nodded towards the bedside drawer. "In here?" he asked and snapped on his purple gloves. With a static bag ready, he carefully opened the drawer and snagged the charm-bracelet sitting, looking harmless, atop a pile of brochures.
As soon as Helena saw that her fellow agent had what they needed, she turned back to her task. She barely noticed the sparks or the gradual return of her visibility, all she cared about at that moment was finding out who had organised this invasion of her life. "Who sanctioned this? Who were you trying to impress?"
Two things happened in quick succession, startling both agents. The woman opened her mouth to speak and before any sound could escape, she began to convulse. The intense shaking threw the woman's head back and they both heard a distinctive snap before all motion stopped.
"Holy-moly," Pete whispered once he began breathing again.
"Well, that was somewhat impressive," HG commented dryly. "However, I don't believe this is quite the result she was hoping for."
With Christina finally asleep and little else to do but wait for her fiancée and friend to return, Myka closed her laptop down and joined her mother on the couch.
"So, you have time to talk to me now?" Jeannie asked, putting her book aside and sounding irritable after letting her feelings build all afternoon.
"Mom..." Myka began, her own voice sounding tired and exasperated.
"I just want the truth, Myka." Mrs Bering interrupted. "Is that so much to ask?"
Agent Bering levelled a harder gaze at her mother. "The last time I came out with the truth, you all but disowned me, so forgive me if I'm a little hesitant," she snapped. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed.
Jeannie made a concerted effort to let go of her anger as she watched her daughter struggle and felt a resurgence of the guilt she'd experienced with Christina. "Myka, since you began working at that place, I just don't understand your life. I tried after you helped your father out and I thought I was doing quite well but..." she trailed off as she struggled to find the words.
The agent smiled sadly. "I know, Mom, and I wish I could explain even half of it to you. I wish I could help you understand how incredible my life really is, or how Helena and Christina were always destined to be a part of it."
"Destiny, Myka? Really?" A blonde eyebrow rose on a sceptical face. "I can see that you're happy and Helena isn't quite the monster I imagined her to be." Jeannie reached out tentatively with a hand to touch her daughter's cheek. "I just always imagined that one day you would meet your prince and that he would sweep you off your feet."
Myka's sad smile twisted into a stiff grin. "Well I did, Mom. Only my prince turned out to be a princess. And as for being swept off my feet, the first time Helena saved my life, she pulled me thirty feet into the air with a grappling hook when I was about to be run over. Feet sweeping doesn't get much more literal than that."
"Well, as your father keeps reminding me 'there's not much point in trying to lock the stable door once the horse has bolted'." Mrs Bering placed her hand over one of Myka's, having finally come to a decision. "I am glad that you're happy, pumpkin. The circumstances are not what I would call ideal, but I'm beginning to see that I might just lose you forever if I don't learn how to live with it. So, if you can be patient with me, Myka, I'd like to see you... and your family... more often."
It wasn't perfect. It wasn't the unconditional acceptance she'd hoped for from the beginning. But in that moment, Jeannie Bering putting aside her prejudices for the sake of her child's happiness, there were no words to describe the joy that filled the agent's body. Even had she managed to find an apt sentiment, the words would never have made their way passed the lump in her throat.
Myka leant across the couch to wrap her arms around her mother's body and to stifle a sob into the knitted fabric of a thick cardigan. A familiar scent plunged her mind back to many childhood moments where only the presence of this woman had banished her fears and woes, where a kind word had bolstered her confidence or a smile had lessened the pain of a wound. She was content enough in her own skin to know that she could have survived without these arms ever holding her again, but to feel their warmth around her now, the agent basked in the knowledge that she wouldn't have to.
Jeannie blinked rapidly. First from surprise and then to control the flood of tears that wanted to join Myka's. Her strong, fiercely independent girl was falling apart in her arms and she knew that she was the reason for the sudden explosion of emotion - both the good and the bad. She held on tighter, determined not to let her fears hurt either of them any longer.
Finally, she comes to her senses! Took her long enough, huh?
Next up... Christina's birthday.