With finals done, Myka was packing up her suitcase to take on the plane for her three-week Christmas vacation. She had hemmed and hawed for as long as she possibly could about going home, but her father had finally put his foot down and bought her a plane ticket. And she was miserable about it. Not only was she going to be away from Helena for three weeks, but Helena wasn't even going to be able to go home to see her family for the holidays. Between the cost of a flight and her work schedule, Helena had thought it pointless. Myka had pleaded with her to come to Colorado, but they both knew that wasn't a solid plan. At least not now. She didn't want to think about Helena being alone on Christmas, so she had insisted, and Mrs. Lattimer had agreed, that Helena would spend Christmas day at Pete's house. If nothing else, it would give them a chance to get to know one another better.

Since Steve had started dating Liam and Helena was never around, Pete and Myka were spending the majority of their free time together and had grown very close. So close that she had even sat down and watched the entire Star Wars trilogy in a single day with him. She had also begrudgingly agreed to not only have a lightsaber fight with him, but she also allowed him to film it. He owed her so hard. He had weaseled his stupid and wonderful way into her life and now Myka was determined for him to do the same to Helena.

Myka had delayed packing for as long as she could, and Pete was bound to be there to take her any minute. Helena helped her fold up her clothes in silence. Myka rolled her eyes when she saw herself in the mirror, looking pitifully forlorn. It was three weeks, not forever. But having spent every single night sleeping next to Helena for the past month, she wasn't ready to remind herself of what it was like not to feel her there. Not to be able to nuzzle into her neck and feel Helena shiver when she did. Not to be able to hold Helena's hand up to her lips to kiss her palm, smelling the dab of perfume on her wrist as she did.

Three weeks. Just… three weeks. Which, when Myka thought about it, was almost as long as they had been really dating in the first place and oh my gosh, how was she going to do this?

Maybe she could convince her dad to move up her returning flight date?

"I think this is just about as much as you're going to be able to fit in here, darling."

Snapping back to reality, Myka watched Helena straining to close the bag, bending over and pulling on the zipper desperately. Helena heard the giggle behind her and turned to look at Myka with her head upside down.

"Why is my discomfort always so amusing to you?"

"It's not amusing, it's adorable." Myka leapt forward and turned her face to give Helena a kiss before she closed the bag herself. "Also? Sometimes? The view from behind is delightful." Helena grabbed Myka to tickle her behind the knees, which Helena had found to be the easiest way to elicit Myka's cackle.

A knock on the door meant that Pete had arrived.

"Can I open the door? Do you have clothes on? Follow-up question: If you don't have clothes on… can I please open this door?"

Helena left Myka still gasping for air on the floor and opened the door for Pete. He was grinning proudly. She rolled her eyes. "Cheeky."

"Oh! How very British of you!" Pete ducked below Helena's arm which was blocking his path and grabbed Myka's bag.

"I'm gonna take this to the car, meet ya there, Mykes." He raised his eyebrows at Helena as he left.

"That never does get old, Pete!" Helena hollered after him as he left.

The girls were without words to say, so they hugged tightly, Myka shutting her eyes, once again trying to remember every feeling of the moment.

Helena walked Myka down the hallway, their hands entwined. "I have something for you. For Christmas."

"No, Helena, I told you not to get me anything, I don't want you…"

"Don't worry Myka, it didn't cost anything. And I stole the wrapping paper from the lounge." Helena handed her a small gift wrapped in the New York Times Sunday crossword, which had been completed. In ink.

Myka paused before she sheepishly responded. "There's a present for you on my side of the closet. I was going to wait to give it to you until I got back… but you should open it on Christmas."

They stopped at the front door, embraced once more, and Myka walked out.

As Myka opened the passenger side door of Pete's car, Helena yelled out, "I'll miss you!" and Myka threw her a kiss.

Now, this, was going to be a long few weeks.

Jeannie and Tracy were thrilled to see Myka when she got off of the plane, and she was surprised at how excited she was to see them as well. Tracy grabbed her sister's hand as soon as she got off the plane and started talking animatedly about how Kevin Riley had asked her out, but she had said no, because she wanted to seem more aloof. Myka pretended to listen, and smiled over at her mom who returned it tenfold. Her mother was wearing a garish Christmas vest, complete with jingle bells that shook every time she took a step. It reminded Myka of all the Christmases past, some better than others.

"Oh my gosh, Myka, what are the boys like at your school?"

Myka was kind of flummoxed by the question "They're like boys at your school… except a year older?"

Tracy rolled her eyes and kept dragging her sister along. Their father was waiting at baggage claim and when he looked up at Myka, she caught the edges of his mouth go up into a smile before he quickly returned to his general scowl. "He's happy to see me… huh!" Myka muttered to herself, but no one noticed as Tracy was still talking about Kevin and her mother had taken out the schedule that she had made up for their coming weeks together.

Oh, yes, there was going to be a lot of Bering family time.

Myka had spent a great deal of the past few months leaving the voicemails from her parents unanswered, so that meant she had to spend the first few days answering all of those voicemails… in person. Unrelenting questions about what she was up to, had she joined any clubs, did she like her classes, what was her roommate like.

Oh. Right. That. How does she talk about that?

She had, until this point, almost forgotten that her family and Helena existed in the same world because, in some ways, they didn't. Helena was her daily life now. Helena was her normal. And her family… well, she loved them dearly, but there was almost no limit to the amount of panic she felt when she was around them. There was panic even when she just thought about them.

Myka had always tried to play the mediator in arguments around the house, which had in effect actually turned her into the target of most of the jabs. That was her role, it was just part of the dynamic of their household. But, now that she didn't feel anxious on a daily basis, she didn't want to fall back into her old habits. She wanted to be the version of Myka that Helena knew.

She attempted to answer all of her parents' questions calmly; She had gone to some club meetings, but nothing on a regular basis, her classes were fine, but she was making some changes to them next semester (which was a conversation for a later date), and her roommate was lovely. When they pestered her for further explanations, she changed the subject, and with her sister and mother that usually worked. But Warren Bering never did like to make things easy on his eldest daughter.

A week into her Christmas vacation, Myka's mother had asked her to go with her father to take some things to their church for donation and to pick up some groceries for a holiday party they were throwing later that week. Myka and her father rode in the car silently for a while; Myka had begun reading A Brave New World, which she and Helena had decided to read "together/apart" as neither of them had before and both found it a grave oversight.

"You like it?" Warren grumbled. When Myka looked up, he just nodded at the book.

"Oh, yeah, it's good." He drove on in silence once more. After a few minutes, he tried to pick up the conversation. "I always liked Bradbury's dystopia more. Or H.G. Wells' The Sleeper Awakes. Underappreciated."

Myka snorted at the mention of H.G. Wells and her father looked affronted. "What?"

"Nothing Dad, just a joke with a friend." The smile lingered on Myka's lips and she looked at her cell phone to see if Helena had responded to her pronouncement that she didn't think Lenina was a very well-drawn character.

"A friend, eh?" Her father smiled too. He looked legitimately interested in hearing more about this person, but Myka wasn't sure that he didn't just want the chance to criticize her choices.

And this brought up that lingering question. Was Myka supposed to tell her family about Helena? Though it was very clear that they were in a relationship and they weren't hiding it, they also didn't make it a habit to talk about the relationship with others. And they certainly hadn't talked to one another about sharing it with their parents.

On top of that she frankly had no idea how her dad would react to the idea of his daughter dating a woman. They'd never even approached the subject before. She could just ask him… hypothetically….

"Hey, kid!" Myka gasped and grabbed the arm rest. "You're gonna give yourself an aneurysm thinking that hard." Warren chuckled at having scared Myka.

"So," Oh good, he wasn't done asking questions. "…Is this friend that kid, Pete?"

Myka started to roll her eyes, but stopped herself, mindful that her dad didn't have much of a sense of humor for eyerolls. At least, not when Myka did it. "Pete is a friend, yes, dad, but he's not much of a reader." Warren scowled again, but this time at the thought of someone who didn't love books as much as he did.

"Well, then, who is it?" He probed.

Why was he pestering her about this so much?!

"Just a friend, dad. I've got lots of friends. Lots and lots of friends." Warren looked at Myka from his periphery. He likely didn't buy that Myka had suddenly become wildly popular, but she just wanted to move on.

When they arrived at the church, they each began carrying bags of clothes and toys down to the gym to be sorted. On each silent trip down the stairs, Myka felt a little more courageous. Maybe she could tell her dad. Maybe it would actually be a good idea to tell her dad. Maybe he would be absolutely fine with this. Or maybe he would kick her out of the house a week before Christmas.

The upside to that would be that she could just fly back and be with Helena.

When they got back into the car to go to the grocery store, Myka had started to feel old anxieties. Her legs were bouncing and her palms were sweaty, her shoulders were starting to concave. She felt like she was back in the ninth grade, her father's belittling remarks reminding her that her best was not good enough. She breathed deeply and forced her voice above the sound of the rushing blood in her ears.

"Dad… how would you feel if I dated a girl?"

She kept her eyes forward. Her body was screaming at her, telling her to abort the mission, it was too dangerous. But now it was out there. And there was nothing she could do.

"I don't know. It would depend." Clipped. Stacato. His voice, as abrasive as usual.

"I just mean in general though... Just… If I wanted to date a girl…." She trailed off. Why was she talking again? Why didn't she just leave it alone?

There was a long silence. Myka assumed that he was going to pretend that she hadn't continued the conversation, so her body started to relax. This was just something they weren't ready to talk about. She picked up her book to begin reading again, only slightly disappointed that her father hadn't responded, when he stopped the car. She hadn't even noticed him pull over.

When Myka looked up, her father was staring at her more intensely than she had ever seen. It took her by surprise and, though her legs stopped bouncing, her blood was pulsating as intensely as before.

"Does she treat you well?" Myka didn't say anything. "Does she make you happy?"

His eyes softened and tears welled in the corners of hers.

"Yes. She does. Very much." Warren broke their eye contact and pulled back out into the road, without a word.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, they both got out and when Myka reached the back of the car, she was alarmed to feel her father's arms around her shoulders, grasping onto her tightly.

"Then I'm happy, kid."

He broke the hug as suddenly as he had initiated it and Myka had to brace herself on the car so she didn't fall over, her body still too stunned to react. He walked into the grocery store without turning back to look at her. But if he had, he would have seen her beaming at him.