Overdue but hopefully not disappointing, this chapter was wrung from my energy depleted brain over the last few weeks. Normally, I like to reread and edit, edit, edit, but as I've only just finished writing it, I'm afraid it's only been through the process once, so as you may imagine, I'm nervous about posting.
I hope it makes sense and isn't too fragmented. I'm going to try to compose a short epilogue to round off The Birth and, as always, your thoughts are appreciated.
Chapter Eighteen
A fire crackled in the hearth, the flames throwing dancing shapes on the walls and warming the otherwise cold, grey decor. His chair situated close to the source of heat and a brandy glass hanging precariously from his right hand, commander in chief, Lloyd Spencer-Chapman Junior, stared into the depths of the fire, a sneer painting his upper lip.
His family had grown large over the years with distant cousins, aunts and uncles scrambling to join their cause, fuelled by tales of ancestral victories and power. In regards to the struggles ahead, not all applicants were suitable for more than cannon-fodder but one or two had proved their worth and might yet learn the true reason behind his inherited vendetta.
Since, only he or his direct line could regain control over his rightful dominion, he regarded his flock as mere distractions anyhow. His blood was pure, blessed with the strength of kings and leaders. Mother to son, father to daughter (their direct line devoid of siblings by design), his destiny was to rule.
With the usurper's revival, the time for battle would soon be at hand. In this lifetime, he would face his blood enemy. Though years stretched ahead of him still, he could taste his victory. He was smart, he was patient, he was ruthless and methodical. Others who criticised his actions were dispatched of swiftly but this was no hardship for him. Sacrifices were necessary and, in the end, he would succeed alone.
It was time to begin final preparations and, whether his minions liked it or not, their order needed to disappear for a while. He would not let the infiltrators learn more about him before he was ready to play his hand.
A fire crackled on the television screen, the noise and image casting the perfect background to the festive scene. Stood a few feet away, in pride of place, a large fir towered over the children on the rug, its branches reaching and its many shiny adornments beckoning their attention.
In a ring of cushions, sat Fredrick and Sophie, each holding one end of a chain of teething rings, their faces frozen in identical expressions of confusion as they tugged and tried to figure out where the opposite reaction was coming from. In front of the two youngest, Christina attempted to build a replica of London Bridge with blocks but with Daniel cornering the market on demolition, she wasn't having much luck.
Adults filled the rest of the room, squashed into couches and on dining chairs that filled the spaces between. A contented sluggishness blanketed them as they chatted and digested their afternoon feast.
Helena and Myka shared the long couch with Warren and Jeannie, the latter two appearing somewhat overwhelmed by their thoughts still as their eyes drifted frequently between their eldest daughter, the inventor and their grandchildren. Agent Bering suspected that the only reason they hadn't run from the house yet was the way their other guests took everything in their stride.
Tracy, Kevin, and Lila encouraged Pete's elaborate tales of daring chases and escapes, many of them deliberately designed to embarrass the soon-to-be regents, though HG remained inscrutable to most of his attempts.
"Oh that poor boy," Jeannie lamented as Pete reached the end of his body swapping story. "I did wonder when he had discovered such an interest in literature. He comes into the shop quite regularly you know." She entertained a brief thought of her eldest on the arm of the high school football star but shook it off as she caught green eyes and behind Myka, a glimpse of her granddaughter's angelic features.
She was still finding it difficult to wrap her head around Myka's reality. If her faith had been tested while she wrestled over her daughter's choice of partner, it was taking a battering now as she considered how it was possible for Christina and Fredrick to be the product of two woman as well as being twins born over a century apart. Having HG Wells as her future daughter-in-law seemed easy in comparison.
The more time they all spent together however, the more comfortable she and her husband became with Helena and Myka's relationship. As their daughters liked to keep reminding them, the world hadn't changed, but merely their awareness of it.
"So have you looked at any more properties?" Warren asked the couple beside him. "You'll have to get a move on if you want to begin packing up by spring."
"Our real-estate agent is keeping us in the loop, Dad, but we don't need to rush," Myka told her father firmly. Gone were the days when she let his stern tone bully her into making snap decisions. Though she knew he meant well, she wasn't going to let him assume control over any aspect of her life. "Very few people are going to want to move house during the holidays anyway. We'll start visiting more properties after New Year's. Maybe we can get together for dinner again while we're in Denver?" she added to soften the impact of her words slightly.
"That would be lovely, dear," the Bering matriarch chipped in. "You know, once you're settled in your new home, we will have to start making some serious wedding plans."
Myka froze for a moment as she imagined going through the hell that Tracy had endured with glee. Endless shopping trips with her mother were not her idea of fun. "We don't want anything too elaborate, Mom. I'm sure we don't need an entire year to make plans."
"Sweetheart, this is your wedding," Jeannie pointed out with gentle insistence. "You... Both of you deserve to enjoy it."
Helena felt her fiancée stiffen next to her and knew exactly what Myka was thinking. "So long as Myka is there, I will enjoy it," she smiled at future mother in law as she slipped her hand into her lover's. "I already have a contact who's going to tailor our dresses and the outfits for the rest of the bridal party. Our wedding planner might enjoy a day's shopping with you though, in order to pick out flowers, card stock and guest gifts."
"Your wedding planner?" Jeannie wondered aloud, surprised by this revelation.
Myka grinned as she began to relax again. "She knows what we like," she teased her mother as she gestured with her head towards the nine-year-old.
Tracy watched her mother's expression carefully and recognised the stubborn set of her mouth. "Myka does deserve to enjoy getting married," she agreed readily. "And since we both know that she hates trawling the mall, taking my niece out for the day sounds like the best plan."
After a few exchanged glances, the grey-haired mother relented and finally saw sense. She shook her head and offered her eldest a warm smile. "You always were different," she said affectionately.
Myka leant into Helena's embrace and turned her head slightly to brush a kiss across her chin. "I'm looking forward to the wedding, Mom, but mostly, I just want to enjoy my marriage." She felt her fiancée's answering kiss in her hair and beamed at the sensation that filled her from head to toe.
Jeannie felt that familiar jolt of knowing as she absorbed her daughter's words. She was sure that eventually she would stop being surprised by the understanding that Myka was in love with a woman, but it would take time. A genuine smile grew on her features before long though and she nodded at the couple. "As long as you're both happy, dear," she assured her daughter and the inventor as she patted Myka's hand.
Meghan narrowed her eyes as she walked into the conference room with Jason on her heels and took a seat opposite the dozen or so regents. She knew exactly why they'd called this meeting, had felt it in the rhythm of the Warehouse this past month or so; Warehouse 13 was coming to the end of its residence in America, which probably meant that the current agents were superfluous to requirements. She had wondered what sort of pension plan secret government facilities provided their employees.
The idea of early retirement came as kind of a relief really. The pressures of her position clouded her ability to connect with her colleagues and though she had felt some improvement with one or two of the other agents, she preferred the time spent without them.
Meghan took a seat opposite Mr Kosan and leaned casually back in her chair. Beside her, Agent Wickes lowered himself stiffly, his rigid figure setting him apart from the apparently apathetic woman.
His tenure as a Warehouse agent marked the most enjoyable period of his life. Pushed from one academic pursuit to another, his natural intelligence stood him in good stead with the forensic sciences that he'd eventually settled into. His superiors had always been pleased with his work but never stopped demanding more. Job satisfaction was not a concept he'd fully understood until faced with a world of endless wonder and as many eyes focussed intently on is alert frame, he worried that his dream was coming to an end.
Adwin cleared his throat once all were gathered and the room fell silent. He steadfastly ignored the odd gaze that eyed him with barely concealed distaste, knowing that he couldn't allow anyone to see him falter. "Agents Wickes and Coombs, you have been summoned here today to discuss your future with the Warehouse. It is our responsibility to inform you that Warehouse 13 will not be in operation for much longer." He waited patiently for the two of them to absorb this news before calmly moving on. "We want to take the opportunity to thank you for the dedication you have shown to your assignments this year and offer each of you, what we hope you'll agree, is a generous severance payment."
A few spaces to his left, Regent Congrave shifted in his seat and fixed his calculating gaze on the pair of agents. "You understand, of course, that you remain bound by the secrecy of this organisation." His tone told the agents that, despite his words forming a question, he was actually giving them a command. They both nodded, even Meghan finding the energy to appear solemn in her consent. "Provided you remain able to follow that simple rule, I imagine you will lead comfortable enough lives without any further interference from us."
Though Mr Congrave dismissed the two agents with a condescending look and seemed to think that any further discussion was not warranted, no one moved to leave and Mr Kosan refocused on the pair opposite him. "If you have any concerns or enquiries, please speak with Mr Nielsen or Ms Cho and they will direct your comments to us, should we need to address them. I understand that this news will have come as a shock and that you will both need time to process."
"So, that's it?"
The voice was sharp and filled with emotion, and Meghan turned to her colleague with an expression of surprise.
"Though your time with us has been brief," Regent Lattimer added with compassion. "Please, do not take this as a negative reflection on your performance to date. This is simply a natural progression of the Warehouse."
Jason nodded to himself, appearing slightly embarrassed for his brief outburst. "Yes ma'am," he managed to say after a short pause.
Agent Coombs decided to keep her thoughts to herself, knowing that nothing she said could change what was happening. Her mixed feelings swirled in changing colours in her mind and, the minute they were dismissed from the meeting, she left Jason to his own devices.
As she wandered aimlessly along the street, passing homes and places of business, she recalled all that she'd learned over the past year and a plan began to form in her mind.
Agent Bering's foray into the past and the appearance of the future Christina Wells told her that there was much more to discover about the mysteries of the Warehouse's story. Her natural mistrust of most people and the strange ability she possessed to detect artefacts, gave her a drive to discover truths for herself. With time to study the temporary guest in the bronze sector, she knew that the young woman's presence was not coincidental.
No matter where she ended up now, the things she'd discovered and manipulated during the last year would keep her permanently linked to the sentient building. It didn't matter if she no longer had access to the inventory, they couldn't actually get rid of her now. This thought continued to comfort her as she kept walking, determined to clear her head.
On his return to the bed and breakfast, Agent Wickes tried to push his disappointment aside to concentrate on the road ahead of him. He didn't know where Agent Coombs had disappeared to and he didn't really care how she was going to travel back to their communal residence, all that really concerned him at that moment was his immediate future.
Such selfish thoughts were unusual for him but having worked with Meghan long enough now, he knew that she would disappear without telling him where she was going and would reappear in her own time. He'd had enough of trying to make concessions for her anti-social behaviour.
A hot, twisting sensation began to build in his stomach and he swallowed convulsively. He'd been trying so hard to separate his past from the life he was living now and to distance himself from the people who'd dictated his path for him, hearing that he had to return to that life made him want to scream.
On top of that, the unexpected attachment he'd begun to form with Agent Jinks was still so raw and new that he worried that Steve wouldn't be interested in continuing their budding romance if they were about to be thrown back out into the world. Where would the ex-ATF agent go? What did he plan to do with his life and would he want a sort-of-boyfriend tagging along with him?
With so much uncertainty on the horizon, Jason fought to keep his emotions under control. When he finally pulled up outside the bed and breakfast though, he had managed to wrestle his fear back into its neat little box and came to a passable conclusion.
He wasn't going to return to his previous life. He decided that the risk of facing repercussions wasn't high enough to deter him from escaping his family's control. A firm plan was forming in his mind and, regardless of what Steve or any of the other agents decided, he would attempt to stay under the radar. He just hoped that Mrs Fredrick would keep the promise she made to him twelve months ago.
Barely a creak or whistle of wind disturbed the gentle peace of Christmas morning. Despite the blanket of night still clinging to the onset of morning, one pair of excited eyes rolled open and blinked. Myka stretched her toes and breathed through her nostrils until her lungs filled to capacity. A smile crept upon her lips and she turned to look at her bedfellow.
During the night, their spooned bodies had drifted slightly and Helena had settled onto her back, her head turned away and a hand holding the covers under her chin. Agent Bering took care not to disturb her fiancée as she pushed up onto her arm for a better vantage point.
Soft puffs of air flowed from an elegant nose, complimenting the rise and fall of the inventor's chest. Sleep and sex-mused hair managed to retain its allure as it covered the pillow and framed pale features.
A tight longing filled Myka's chest and she swallowed heavily. A hand reached to touch the bedside light, bringing it to life and throwing a soft, yellow glow on the room. "Helena?" she whispered. A barely audible mumble rose from the Brit's lips but she soon fell quiet again. Myka lowered her mouth to the shell of an ear and placed a hand just below her lover's rib cage. "Helena, wake up."
Agent Wells hummed her response, blinked several times and smiled at the sight of Myka's bed hair and intense gaze. "Hello, darling." She reached up to trace the shape of her fiancée's jaw. "Is it time to rise and shine?"
Agent Bering glanced at the clock, read five forty-five and blushed. "Not exactly," she admitted and then added softly, "I just missed you." She watched Helena's smile grow wide until the white of her teeth seemed to light up the dark room and reached inside her chest to envelope her heart.
Myka sank into her lover's arms and, as their lips met, she felt like a piece of her settled back into place, as if it had been shaken loose. Was it the impending relocation of their lives, the thought of Warehouse 13 moving or simply the day ahead, reserved just for them and their children?
After the previous weekend, hosting a pre-Christmas gathering, with her parents and sister staying over, and friends popping in and out, she and Helena agreed to keep Christmas day for just the four of them.
Most of their family had made other plans too. Pete, Lila and Sophie were spending the weekend with Jane. Steve had decided to spend the holiday with his mother and had taken Claudia and a surprised Jason with him. Abigail was with her brother's family in New York. Which left a skeleton crew at the Warehouse, with Vanessa joining Artie, Leena and Meghan for a quiet dinner at the Bed and Breakfast.
The rowdier gatherings would come before the new year but, for now, the two newest regents looked forward to the intimacy of their little nest.
After a supper of hot chocolate, crackers and cheese, they sat around the fire, dressed in their pyjamas while HG read The Night Before Christmas. Fredrick was asleep within seconds, his head lolling heavily onto Myka's shoulder while his sister sat in Helena's lap, her lips mouthing the words along with her mother.
Once the children were in bed, Myka and Helena cuddled on the sofa, talking about their plans for breakfast, sipping wine and getting lost in kisses.
Far from sated by the evening's activities, Myka felt her need for Helena Wells like an addiction that had only intensified through the night. This morning, she needed to feel her partner's gaze fixed on her; a window into the soul that kept her tethered to her life. As their bodies moved together, her skin hummed with the energy of them and pushed her to greater heights until, with a flesh-muffled moan, she tumbled over the edge. With her head buried against the inventor's shoulder, Myka took a minute to breathe and gather her wayward emotions.
Helena held her fiancée close and peppered kisses in her hair. She understood how moments of insecurity would hit her partner on occasion; decades of learned behaviour didn't disappear so easily, but she was glad that they had reached a point in their relationship where they could just tell each other, with words or a look, that they needed a little extra attention.
"I love you, Myka," the Brit whispered into wild curls. She felt the brunette shift in her arms and looked down to find glassy, green orbs staring at her. "You and our family... You are my raison d'être."
"I feel the same way," Myka murmured, her throat tight with emotion. She sniffed and huffed a laugh through her tears. "Damn it, I don't need to be falling to pieces on Christmas morning."
Helena shuffled down the bed until they were nose to nose and kissed away the fallen tears. "You always have me here to help you put the pieces back together, darling. Feel free to fall apart as much as you need to."
Myka smiled into their kiss and wriggled closer so that the entire length of their bodies lay flush against one another. For the next hour, they indulged a slow exploration of hands and mouths against skin, bringing each other close to the brink time and again until they shuddered together and fell still once more.
It was the crackle of the baby monitor that caught their attention some time later and Myka felt her body respond to the sound of her baby's morning cry. Rolling out of bed, she was dressed in her pyjamas once more and had her fingers on the door handle before another voice came through the tiny speaker, making her pause to listen.
"Freddy," Christina cooed to her brother, silencing his demands for attention as she entered his bedroom. "Hello, baby. Are you ready to see if Father Christmas has visited? Mama and Mummy will be up soon. Not long now, little brother."
Helena's gaze met Myka's and they shared an expression that communicated how precious they each found this moment. The Brit slipped from the covers of their bed before joining her fiancée at the door. She made a motion for the brunette to open the door as she reached for the listening device and turned it off.
From along the corridor, they heard the sound of the crib being lowered and the sidewall releasing. Helena had made the mechanical adjustments at Christina's request so that she might help her mothers when Fredrick woke from his afternoon nap, but they had not witnessed a morning like this between the siblings before.
Grabbing the camcorder that she had prepared the previous night, HG crept across the landing with Myka on her tail and began recording the start of their children's first Christmas together.
Christina sat next to her brother, after lifting him to the floor, and removed his pacifier to place it out of reach; as she'd seen her parents do many a time. Freddy immediately began to whinge and rolled onto all fours to crawl after the object but paused when a familiar bear appeared in front of him and began to dance and sing.
"When Santa got stuck up the chimney..."
Myka wrapped her arm around Helena's waist as they watched. Their little girl's exuberant lyrics kept them enraptured 'til the end of the song. Something must have caught Fredrick's peripheral vision though and the moment he spotted his parents, his thoughts were back on breakfast.
"Mm-ah!" Freddy shouted as he tumbled over his sister's lap and crawled towards the grinning adults.
Myka bent down to pick him up, kissed his chubby cheek as she settled him onto her hip and then indulged the camera by joining Christina on the rug. Fredrick complained with a whine when he wasn't immediately transported to the room where the food came from but, as his sister broke into giggles, his complaints died out again and he settled for nestling into his mother's chest.
After a few minutes of playing with Old Ted and distracting her brother, the nine-year-old noticed a suspicious odour and leapt to escape. She clambered over a box of toys and performed an impromptu dance for the camera, re-enacting her song for a new audience before prancing from the room.
Myka shook her head and moved to the changing table as Helena disappeared after their daughter. After changing her son's diaper and dressing him in his penguin-shaped baby grow (Aunt Tracy's gift to him), she led the way to the kitchen and put him in his high chair, with half a banana to keep him occupied. Her fiancée floated down after her and their daughter followed, keeping a running commentary as she carried the camcorder.
"It is Christmas morning and we are about to prepare a scrumptious breakfast before we check to see if Father Christmas had visited." The lens panned towards Fredrick and stopped just beyond his sticky reach. "Freddy already has a banana because he's a grumpy monkey when his tummy is growly. Mummy and Mama are gathering the ingredients for French toast." She turned the camera around to face it, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I'm going to have maple syrup with mine." She turned the device back on her parents, thinking that she'd been sneaky, only to find HG watching her with a level gaze.
"You may politely request syrup with your breakfast," Helena corrected the nine-year-old in a mildly haughty tone that spoke of the latent effect of her upbringing.
Behind the inventor, Myka chuckled slightly and with a look of mischief, she reached for the item in question and swiftly applied a drop to the end of her index finger. With a shushing motion, she crept up behind her fiancée and attacked.
Helena jumped and twisted on the spot. A hand reached up to feel a spot on her cheek and she stared at the giddy brunette in surprise. "You...? Did you...?"
Christina giggled, the camera shaking in her grasp. "Has the cat got your tongue, Mummy?" she taunted, recognising the familiar build up to a battle of wills and agility.
"I did," Myka answered the inventor's unfinished question. "What are you going to do about it?"
HG's eyes narrowed at the challenge and she gave chase. Like a game of cat and mouse, they danced around the table, one lunging to capture and the other dodging at the last second, keeping a hair's breadth out of reach.
The nine-year-old smiled and stepped out of the way while she continued to record. From the corner of the tiny screen, she could see her brother's awestruck expression slowly morph into a gummy grin and chuckled to herself when his arms flailed and a chunk of banana sailed over the island counter to land in their Mama's hair.
Myka's taunts turned into a cry of horror, her momentum coming to an abrupt pause as she reached up to remove the projectile before it could burrow its way into her curls. Her fingers closed around the offending item just as a body collided with hers and two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.
"I believe that is 'game over', darling," HG crowed.
Myka pouted and turned in the embrace. "You had an accomplice," she complained. "That should be against the rules."
"Rules should be established before the game commences, my dear. You cannot make arbitrary declarations after the fact, merely to suit your whim," the inventor countered logically, a smug gleam in her eye. "Besides, I cannot be expected to predict when spectators will take it upon themselves to intervene on my behalf." She leant closer, bringing their bodies flush and smirked at the shiver she felt along the length of Myka's figure.
Agent Bering's expression held for several seconds before her scowl broke and she swooped in to cover a sticky spot with her tongue. No matter that she'd been caught; the renewed shock on her fiancée's face was enough of a victory for her.
The rest of their breakfast passed calmly in comparison, until the time came to clear the table and Christina's excitement for presents became too much for her to retain.
Helena had insisted on the family meal to start the day, explaining patiently to her daughter that they would all enjoy the morning better on full stomachs and that Fredrick was too young to ignore his hunger long enough for them to open their presents in peace anyway.
The young girl tore into her first gift like a lion on a gazelle, her fingers pulling at the faces of Santa and Rudolph until her gaze landed on the prize beneath. "Oh wow! Mama, Mummy, look what Addy gave me," she cried with joy.
In her hands, she held a wooden box with a compass peering through its glass top. She stared at it for a moment before reverently lifting the catch and opening the lid.
Myka covered Helena's hand with her own and squeezed it gently. The inventor's expression gave nothing away other than the delight of watching their daughter's enjoyment, but she knew that her lover had taken great care in guiding Adelaide's selection. It wasn't flashy or expensive but it looked well made and had a symbolism that suited the girls' friendship.
Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and something intangible passed between them. Neither noticed the flash of energy that emanated from Myka's ring or the answering sparks that lit their children's gazes. Blanketed by love, the couple gravitated towards each other, their lips meeting in a sweet caress that deepened to a slow exploration of mouths.
It took effort for them to part, the magic in their kiss making each touch a compulsion that was difficult to resist, but eventually they did, the pulsing energy from the ring dissipating at the same time.
If Fredrick's eyes lingered on the object, no one else noticed.