Yay, I have the Internet! Not a moment wasted. The guys from Virgin have just this minute left the building and I'm updating!
This is a mammoth of a chapter, over fourteen pages long! I played with the idea of splitting it into two parts, but I decided that I liked it the way it is. I so enjoyed writing this last chapter (yes it is the last one... of this part of the story ;-D) and for that reason I'm kind of nervous about everyone's opinion. Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome though!
As it is the last chapter for The Bump it may be a while before I have enough of the next part fleshed out. Haven't decided what to call it yet, but it'll probably start with a 'B'. I will also be attempting to write a sequel for my Mass Effect story at the same time, so uploads may be a bit slower.
Finally, thank you to everyone who's supported me through this story. You're all amazing! Your kind words and helpful advice kept me going and helped make this story what it is now.
Now I've finished rambling, enjoy the bits of smut (M rating for this one), some angst, and lots of fluff...
Chapter Sixteen
"T'was the night before Christmas and all through the house..."
Christina struggled to keep her eyes open and stay alert as her mother's voice drifted through her mind, treasured words bringing with them the promise of a magical day to come.
Christmas in the future wouldn't be as she remembered it; there would be no Uncle Charles masquerading as Father Christmas (she had been five when she recognised his moustache peeking out from beneath Santa's beard); no church service with Grandmother's stern glance watching every twitch of her body; no songs around the piano while Grandfather hit the keys too hard and everyone sang out of tune, and no afternoon walk along the Thames to watch the ice-dancers and work off some of the traditional feast they'd consumed.
Three things remained the same – Mummy, snow and this story. As she finally stopped fighting her exhaustion and succumbed to her dreams of reindeer, sleds and presents, her mother's voice softened through the last page of the book.
Stealthily extracting herself from the bed, placing the book on a shelf and then closing the door softly behind her, HG sighed. She was very aware that this would likely be the last time it was just the three of them preparing for the excited chaos of the much-anticipated celebration. A year from now, there would be a baby amongst them and their lives would never again be the same.
As she made her way downstairs, she smiled, picturing their new son or daughter rolling, shuffling or crawling across the rug while Christina laughed at their attempts to shoo him or her away from the pile of shiny gifts under the tree. She imagined her eldest child, still enthusiastic at nine years old, dressed from head to toe in the reindeer pyjamas she'd spotted in town, and her youngest enrobed as a rotund pudding. She heard Myka's joyful laughter filling the air and saw the twinkle of love and contentment in those expressive green eyes.
It didn't do her any good to spend too much time focussing on either the past or the future, but occasionally she indulged in a daydream or two without slipping into fears of her precious family meeting a tragic end.
Lost in her imaginings, she let her body work through its habitual tasks, hardly paying a mind to her surroundings so that it wasn't until soon after she'd cleared the kitchen, that she realised her partner had been missing for almost an hour. While they often spent time in the house focussed on personal tasks, when Myka was at home, their evening routine consisted of the two of them clearing away evidence of the day's toil and usually settling down in the library or living room to enjoy a couple of hours of peace. Tonight, the ex-Secret Service agent was conspicuous by her absence.
Testament to how far she'd come in her recovery, HG didn't immediately panic. She finished drying her hands and turned out the kitchen light before wandering the downstairs, searching each room in turn for her elusive girlfriend. Once the ground floor was put to rest, her legs carried her upstairs to their bedroom, passed figures of busy elves and glittering pictures of children in snow.
The scene that greeted her was reminiscent of another night, now two months past. Candles littered the surfaces and rose petals decorated the bed, though in white rather than red, reminding her of the pure crispness of the first snowfall. From the radio came a soft tinkling of sleigh-bells and as she closed the door, she spotted a figure waiting for her in the warm semi-dark.
Reclined in a dark leather chair, patiently awaiting this moment, was her lover. HG's hand pushed the door closed and slid the lock into place while she still had the ability to think clearly. Taking in the vision before her, she swallowed and felt a jolt of anticipation fly south.
"Myka..." her voice whispered her appreciation.
Decked in a heavy hooded robe of red velvet with a trim of plush white fur that looked so real, Helena instantly wanted to stroke it; Myka was a picture of sensual perfection. In her left hand, a scroll of parchment drifted toward the floor, while in her right sat a long, elegant quill, and on her nose, wire rimmed glasses completed the ensemble, offering the agent an authoritative look.
The inventor felt her knees weaken as her gaze travelled the length of the smooth skin emerging from the bottom of the robe, the long legs ending with bare feet."Darling?"
Myka ignored the questioning tone and diverted her gaze to the scroll. She had been planning this little surprise ever since their brief talk about role-play in the bedroom. Seeing the desire in her lover's eyes told her that her efforts were appreciated, as she'd hoped, but she hadn't expected her own heightened arousal and she had to force herself to stay in character and not simply have Helena against the nearest flat surface.
"Helena George Wells... Helena. George. Wells," she repeated with an expression of concentration as she consulted the parchment. "Ah, HG Wells, here we are. Tut-tut," she shook her head slowly and gazed over her glasses at the woman who crept unconsciously toward her. "On the Naughty List I see." Watching the spark of interest in those chocolate orbs ignite further, Myka cleared her throat and began rolling up the scroll to give herself a second to breathe. She felt her face flush and began to berate herself. Damn it Myka, get it together. Take control. With the tube of parchment, she reached out and halted the raven-haired beauty's eager approach. "That's quite close enough, Miss. Wells."
Helena shifted from foot to foot, her fingers tingling with the effort to stay put. Knowing the reward for her patience would be well worth it, she reigned in her desire and began to play along. "And what, pray tell, have I done to warrant such censure?"
Her eyebrow rising, Myka adopted an expression of disapproval. With the end of the quill's feather, she began to trace a path along the lapel of Helena's loosely tied robe, eliciting an involuntary squeak from the Brit. "You stand accused of shamelessly embarrassing your partner in front of her relatives; corrupting a young girl in your destructive pursuit of science; denying your partner her favourite sugary snack, and mercilessly teasing her before she goes to work. How do you plead?" With each accusation, the American pushed her implement further passed the material, delighting in each gasp that followed her exploration. Still she kept her appearance formal, beginning to relax into her role now.
Shuddering at the feel of the feather against the thin material covering her skin, HG gazed heatedly at her lover through a haze of lust. Her heartbeat raced against her ribcage, the rhythm reminiscent of the pounding she anticipated from Myka's touch within her. "Guilty," she replied excitedly. Another day she would perhaps work harder at drawing out this little game; she was already picturing the taller woman as a lawyer or police officer, but today she was incapable of holding out for that long.
Feeling the thrill of her own anticipation throb harder, Myka dropped her props and crooked a finger at her girlfriend, beaconing her closer. Once Helena was in reach, her hands rose to grasp slim hips and she guided the other woman to straddle her lap. "Well, Miss. Wells. Since you appear contrite perhaps we can forego the coal this year and negotiate a different punishment." She gazed up into mahogany depths that bore into her with equal parts love and desire. Swallowing again, she let her hands graze a sensual path from knees to thighs, fingertips pushing without hesitation passed the silken fabric of HG's robe.
Helena's hands cupped her lover's face, fingers tightening spasmodically, her mouth open in a perpetual gasp as her knees pushed wantonly against the arms of the chair, desperate to invite the taller woman further in. Myka's fingers met her short pyjama bottoms and she felt her eyes close automatically, her breath quickening with each passing second as her hips began to search for purchase. The tip of a thumb brushed over a cotton-clad bundle of nerves and she whimpered unselfconsciously.
The sound went off like a starting gun in the American's mind and, through the thin silk, her head dipped forward to capture a straining nipple while her hands tugged at the material covering her ultimate prize. She pushed at Helena's hips; making her rise to her knees so she could pull the small sleep shorts off, gaining her unencumbered access. Deft fingers made light work of the belt holding the lapels together and rapidly, each item of clothing pooled to the floor, leaving the Victorian flush with desire and open to her partner's hungry gaze.
Forest green eyes drank in the delectable expanse of heated skin, her gaze excited and predatory. "Exquisite," she breathed huskily.
"Myka," the inventor keened, her acute need relinquishing her of the power to vocalise her will to be touched.
Glancing up at desire-darkened eyes, the younger woman smiled slyly at the sudden recognition of the control she wielded. Helena trusted her to take care of her, to bring her to heights of passion and catch her when she fell. It was a responsibility she took seriously, but in her own time. "I love that I can reduce the great HG Wells to nothing but incoherent babbling with just the touch of my hands." For emphasis, she pulled her girlfriend's hips forward and up, raising her heated centre closer to eye-level. With her eyes fixed on Helena's, Myka used her thumbs to spread drenched petals and expose the well of nectar she desired to touch and taste.
Gaze falling to that pool of arousal, the tall brunette's breath hitched and she felt her own intimate parts clench in empathy. Her head fell forward again, her mouth lighting on the sweat dampened curves of her love's hips and belly. Lips and tongue explored the salty taste of Helena's torso as one hand moved to support her lower back and the other inched closer to the Promised Land.
"Myka... ple..." HG's hands tightened impossibly in her girlfriend's hair, the hood on that curly mass having fallen back some time ago. Long fingers explored her in agonisingly slow strokes, pushing passed her folds and testing the waters, spreading her arousal over her labia and sending shocks through her system.
Needing to watch Helena come undone, Myka sat back against the now warm leather and teased her lover's opening. A rose painted mouth sucked in short doses of air and released whimpers of impatience. She paused before the plunge, drawing a frustrated groan from the inventor. "Look at me," she demanded gently.
Intensely dark depths opened to Myka's forest green and she felt herself falling as she slid inside and claimed her wild beauty. Keeping her hand still and pulling Helena's hips forward again, she encouraged her lover to set her own rhythm.
Rocking experimentally for several beats, the Brit soon found a pace and position she liked and leaned forward to rest her head against her partner's as she felt Myka begin to match her, thrust for thrust. Having been on the edge of completion almost from the moment she stepped into the room, HG's passion quickened until she was driving into Myka in short, hard bursts, her breath now hot and ragged in the agent's ear.
"Dear Heart," Myka whispered into a shapely ear. "Let go," she encouraged, feeling her girlfriend holding back at the peak of her release. She felt her own impending end looming on the brink and knew that she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer either.
Gripping the back of the chair, Helena buried her head in her lover's leonine neck and moaned loudly, shuddering through her orgasm, the absolute love and devotion in Myka's tone pushing her over the edge. As the tremors gradually faded and her girlfriend's hands left her intimate areas and wound around her body, anchoring her once more, HG relaxed, her breath slowing against Myka's shoulder.
"Darling," she murmured as she finally found strength to raise her head and meet her lover's gaze. "You were marvellous." Her hands returned to cupping the American's face and, as if words alone could not express her feelings, she leant in for one chaste kiss then another, until there was barely a breath between them.
Myka groaned into each kiss, her desires building again with each stroke of Helena's tongue. Her hands caressed the soft planes of her girlfriend's back and shoulders, knowing just how to sooth and excite at different points. Eventually needing to breathe, she placed a series of light kisses against an elegant jaw and leant back into the chair. Their eyes met and danced with love and laughter. "Not bad for a first time, huh?" She asked, feeling a little smug and surer of herself now that the act was over.
Looking down at the costume her lover still wore, HG grinned. The belt had come loose during their lovemaking and now, between the white fur trims lay a path of flushed, sweat dampened skin. With one finger, she drew a line from collar to navel, stopping just short of dipping down any further. "My love, I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am, because I have several new scenarios in mind after tonight's performance. You are a natural."
Myka blushed. Sex was not something she had ever been very adventurous with. Even with Helena, though it was always enjoyable and particularly since renewing their relationship, satisfying, she had hesitated to experiment with something that, in her mind, was already perfect. Her plan for this evening had been to fulfil Helena's desire to add spice to their routine. She had not expected to find the whole role-playing business so stimulating herself, having always thought that her needs were fairly simple. It was a pleasant surprise and she realised that she was more than willing to explore further. "Only with you. I love you." She caressed the side of her girlfriend's face, tracing round an expressive brow to the curve of a high cheekbone.
"As I do you." HG kissed the wayward fingers as they passed over her lips and returned her gaze to the tantalising stretch of skin teasing her. It suddenly occurred to her that Myka was awfully calm where she should be begging to be touched. Alarm, that perhaps her lover hadn't enjoyed their change of pace, quickly gave way to relief as she began to suspect that they had finished together and she'd simply been too occupied to notice. "Love, are you not in need of stimulation yourself? I've yet to touch you." She exaggerated her disappointment and felt a renewed sense of pride as the American's blush reappeared. "Or did you already..."
Looking slightly guilty, Myka lowered her eyes to their laps and shrugged, her sudden shyness intensifying under HG's predatory gaze.
Smirking knowingly, Helena lowered her mouth to her partner's ear and asked in a husky tone, "Did you spend without me, darling?" Grasping a nearby lobe between her teeth, she felt Myka nod and tremble. Releasing the tender flesh, she nibbled her way to two waiting lips and drew her girlfriend into a heated kiss. As she felt the other woman begin to squirm beneath her, she pulled away slightly, looking deeply into bright orbs. "May I have a taste?"
Myka swallowed hard as the blood suffusing her cheeks rushed to other more sensitive places. She nodded weakly and felt Helena begin a journey south with her tongue and lips, the last coherent thought in her head, a fervent wish for this to be their own Christmas Eve tradition in the making.
"Peter Lattimer, take your fingers out of my pie this instant!"
The crowd gathered in the living room froze in varying states of mid-action as HG's indignant cry pierced the air. Immediately following, there were sniggers and eye rolls, each one of them with an eye on the door as a silent countdown began.
Bursting into the room moments later, the culprit in question made a beeline for his girlfriend and attempted to hide his bulky frame behind her decidedly smaller one. Myka, who had been in quiet conversation with Lila about her morning sickness, instinctively punched her friend's arm and glared at him with mock seriousness.
"Why do you have your fingers in my girlfriend's pie?" She demanded to know. Pete's eyebrows shot up and his head tilted to one side in his Scooby Doo impression. She hit him again as Claudia sniggered and Lila pretended to be exasperated. "You know what I mean."
Before agent Lattimer could respond, his accuser appeared in the doorway, fire in her eyes and brandishing a carving knife. "The first time I have a chance to actually enjoy cooking Christmas dinner for my family, and you insist on behaving like a starving street urchin! You, Peter are banned from the kitchen for the duration of this holiday." She stormed back out of the room, leaving Myka and Christina to hide their amusement behind their hands.
"HG, come on! It smells so good!" Pete called after the inventor. When she didn't immediately reappear, he huffed to himself. "I didn't even get close to trying anything."
"I think that's probably a good thing, babe." Lila soothed him as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "I'd hate to think what she could do with that knife."
"You might need Little Pete if you ever decide to have any more children," Myka murmured to the pair, careful to keep her comment from Christina's sharp ears.
"Hmm," Lila's mouth turned down slightly as she considered the statement. "If there is a next time, I expect to be a part of the decision making and planning stages," she levelled a hard state at Pete. It took her a week to come to terms with her condition after Pete tracked her down at her sister's house and explained how Lila's careful use of contraception had been useless against the power of an artefact. Having planned to go back to school to complete her degree in meteorology, she hadn't anticipated motherhood for a few years yet.
Pete wasn't exactly helping the situation with his childlike exuberance at the thought of being a father. He'd read more books than any of them so far (or he'd looked at the pictures) and was generally being a pain in the arse, spouting assimilated nuggets of information and advice wherever they went. Several times, Helena had spotted the thunder in her girlfriend's eyes just before Myka smacked him and tried in vain to warn him. He seemed oblivious to the delicate balance of acceptance that both expectant women were maintaining, which she knew couldn't be true; he was usually fairly intuitive. She surmised that he simply couldn't contain his joy and was behaving accordingly.
Leaving Lila to deal with Pete, Myka rose from her chair and crossed the room to where an intense game of monopoly was transpiring. She pulled a chair up beside Christina and immediately began to stroke the girl's hair. "Which one are you?" She whispered as she studied the game board.
"I'm the dog," the eight year old replied, her focus intense as Claudia picked up the hat and moved passed Marylebone. Her shoulders sagged and eyes narrowed as the red head stuck out her tongue. Christina had all four stations.
Myka smiled to herself at the competitiveness between the two youngest of their group. Though her daughter had been missing out on time spent with children her own age, her relationship with Claudia came closer to that bond than anything else. Having lost a great deal of her own childhood after Joshua's disappearance, the young techie slipped into the childish role with enthusiasm. She would play with dolls, argue about the colour of the sky, draw pictures of cute, fluffy animals and make potions in the bathroom sink when she thought no other adults were around.
Even though she bemoaned the loss of much of her favourite shampoo, most of the time, the lanky agent was content to leave the two girls to their mischief whenever she happened upon them in the middle of some game. She had fond memories herself of similar antics with Tracy, when they had gotten along for more than five minutes, and wanted Christina to enjoy those experiences too.
Away from the friendly cut-throat game, Helena and Steve were busy in the kitchen. After the chaos of their Thanksgiving meal, Myka had volunteered to take her share of the cooking, but her girlfriend insisted that she should be far away from the stress of the kitchen and tasked her with enjoying every moment of her first Christmas with their daughter. It was a debate that HG had eventually won in the bedroom three nights ago, leaving an exhausted and sated Myka in a state where she would have agreed to almost anything.
Secretly, the tall brunette knew that her girlfriend's stubbornness stemmed from her desire to single-handedly provide the best for her family on this special day. It was more for Helena's pride and her need to redeem her image than it was for her love of domesticity. Myka was content to let it slide this time, but did not intend to let the inventor take over every job in the house. She was sure there would be more lengthy debates on the subject at some point in the future.
Steve took over dishwashing duty as he escaped the noise and excitement in the living room. Holidays were always a little more challenging for him, especially seeing Claudia enjoying the simple fun of the season, much like his sister had. HG had taken one look at his expression when he entered the kitchen and pointed him to the sink without arguing that she could handle everything herself.
They worked quietly around one another, easy listening classics drifting from the radio to fill the comfortable silence. They all understood loss in their own way and each dealt with it differently; Steve and HG were introspective in that regard and took comfort in the simple feeling of having another knowing soul around.
The atmosphere around the table was electric as plates were handed round and everyone began to help themselves to the feast. Helena had outdone herself, her smug expression suggesting that she knew it too. Having managed to persuade Dr. Calder to join them again, the entire table was stretched to bursting with place settings for ten people. They were snug, with elbows occasionally bumping together and many apologies and cries of 'that's my glass', but no one really complained and mistakes were laughed off with ease.
Sitting between Pete and Helena, Myka had a good view of the entire table and couldn't help the radiant smile that lit up her features. Every time she took a moment to glance around and absorb the jolly atmosphere, she felt tears welling up behind her eyes and HG's hand squeezing her thigh.
Leaning closer to her lover, the inventor whispered in her ear. "Are you alright, love?"
Myka turned and found concerned depths staring back at her. Stuck for words to describe the absolute joy she felt, the American simply dipped her head and kissed her girlfriend gently, her lips lingering in place for several beats before she closed her eyes and rested her head against Helena's. A tug on her arm broke the contented moment and with a sigh, she withdrew. "I love you," she whispered as she trailed a hand along the inventor's leg and entwined their fingers. Turning to her right, she levelled a glare at Pete, her good mood shifting beneath her annoyance at having been interrupted. "What?"
"Erm," he appeared taken aback by her tone, having missed the intimate moment between his best friend and her girlfriend. "I just wanted you to pass the pie."
With an exaggerated huff, Myka reached for the plate that was just out of her friend's reach and plonked it down in front of him. "There."
"Er thanks." He watched her carefully as he spooned out more than his fair share of the tray. "You ok, Mykes?"
Helena had returned her attention to Christina, who sat at the end of the table, and the brunette found herself softening at the picture of the two of them in deep discussion. "Yeah Pete, I'm fine." She laid a hand on his arm and allowed her smile to reappear. "Don't mind the crazy pregnant lady," she added for his ears only.
"If only it were that easy," he murmured back. His words suggested exasperation, but the brightness of his eyes betrayed his true feelings; he was loving every second of their changing family dynamic. "So, when do you plan on telling CJ that she's gonna be a big sis?"
Swallowing a mouthful of roast potato, Myka glanced at her daughter and frowned slightly. "I'm not sure." She pushed a piece of carrot through a diminishing blob of cranberry sauce as she considered the question. "I wanted to wait until we were sure that everything was fine. It's a little early to be shouting it from the rooftops. I certainly don't plan on telling anyone else until I'm showing; though I didn't get much of a choice with you guys," she grumbled.
"I get that. You're always the cautious one. You know what Artie said in the beginning though; Inanna's thralls have one hundred percent birth rate for the lucky ladies who get knocked up through her." He waggled his eyebrows and his work-partner rolled hers.
"As far as the records we have tell us," Myka reminded him firmly. "There are no guarantees and I'd rather not put Christina through that emotional upheaval if I don't have to." It was a topic she and Helena had discussed over and over without coming to an agreement yet. Part of her knew that she was stalling because she feared the eight year old's reaction; what if she thought that they were trying to replace her? What if the girl got all excited about the idea and she miscarried? They couldn't know what would happen and they would have to tell her eventually, but Myka still couldn't bring herself to do it yet.
Dinner continued through a dessert of flaming Christmas pudding and brandy sauce, Pete, Claudia and Artie consuming the most as the rest of them pushed their plates away, feeling replete and gluttonous after three courses. Crackers snapped around the table; toys, puzzles, jokes and hats littering the remaining space between stacks of empty plates. Claudia left her seat briefly to force a paper crown onto Artie's head, her fiery glare promising retribution if he dared to take it off, while Vanessa kissed his reddening cheek and reached up to straighten the amusing apparel.
With all hands on deck, they cleared the table and made some headway into sorting out the kitchen before en-mass, they followed Christina and HG's insistence that they all take a stroll in the snow before dispersing to their separate abodes.
Dull, grey clouds sat heavily in the sky, waiting on the moment they could release their burden of crystallised water particles upon the land. The snow had been heavy and a blanket of white stretched before their eyes, disturbed where the plucky adventurer or two had trudged through it, and crisp and inviting where none had touched.
Pete pulled a red, plastic sled along behind him while Christina and Claudia took turns filling it with heaps of fresh snow, both chuckling as the bulky agent pretended to struggle with each new addition.
HG tested a ball of the white stuff between two gloved hands and smiled as the particles stuck together easily. "Not too soft," she declared. She caught Myka's amused glance and went on to elaborate. "I attempted to invent a snow machine once. When I eventually figured out how to form the particles correctly to make snowflakes, they were too soft and wouldn't stick together. Another project caught my attention before I could begin to tweak it to my liking."
The brunette shook her head with semi-disbelief; sometimes she forgot who her girlfriend really was. "You didn't think it might have been useful for something other than making snow? Like chilling food? You could have invented the first freezer."
They strolled a few metres behind the others now, caught up in their small bubble of happiness, though consciously they still kept a close eye on their daughter's antics. Helena had chosen a pair of boots with slightly larger heels, so she was almost eye level as they followed arm in arm after their family and Myka found that she enjoyed the change; occasionally she despaired at being so tall. She felt compelled to protect where sometimes she wanted to be protected. She knew it was silly to think that way, but especially recently, it was a feeling that was out of her control.
"That would have been fairly dull," HG turned her nose up at the mundane suggestion, winking at her partner to show that she meant no offence. "It was meant to be a gift for Christina; she always did love the snow and it never snowed as much in London as it did most other places in England. Despite what Mr. Dickens would have everyone believe."
Smiling, Myka pulled her girlfriend closer. They continued to walk in a companionable silence for several minutes, both basking in the simple joy surrounding them until the brunette's thoughts turned pensive again, as they were wont to do at times. "Have you thought any more about taking Christina back to London to visit?" The topic of their daughter's varied understanding of time-travel came up sporadically and HG usually balked at the idea of discussing the details with her little girl, but with recent developments, including the inventor's growing determination not to stunt the eight year old's development, Myka thought she stood a chance of eliciting a real answer this time.
Helena sighed and gazed out into the distance as her mind wandered.
Several seconds passed as the taller agent began to wonder if she'd been wrong again. "I'm only asking now because unless we take her before I get too big to fly, it'll be a couple of years I imagine before we'll want to travel that far with an infant."
"Yet another bump in the road that I've been avoiding," HG ran gloved fingers through her raven hair in a familiar sign of distress before drawing a deeper breath and turning back to her girlfriend. "Much as you have been procrastinating on the topic of her impending siblinghood. We both have issues we wish to put off discussing, and I believe it was you who said that we shouldn't spend all of our time concerned with what might be. Where is that wisdom now?"
Myka stiffened at the sharp tone. "We have barely known about this ourselves for more than a week." She argued through a jaw clenched to hold back impending tears. "I don't want to build up her hopes or cause her distress when anything could happen at this early stage."
Feeling her partner trying to pull away, HG held on tightly until the American gave up struggling and they continued to amble along in stark contrast to how they'd started out. Eyes filling with emotion and avoiding one another's gaze, the couple struggled through the opposing compulsion to both break away and hold on tighter. Arms felt foreign to each other where usually they were as one and both were painfully aware of the awkward tension that now filled their bubble.
In the near distance, their family continued to enjoy the wintery atmosphere.
With a bulky sleeve, Myka tried surreptitiously to wipe away her tears but Helena caught the move. Guilt rising like a tide with the bile in her throat, the inventor willed away her fear-induced irritation and drew a calming breath. "Myka?" she tried, waiting several seconds after with no answer but a small sniffle. "Darling? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you."
The American nodded, still wiping away tears as she avoided eye contact. Halting their forward motion, HG brought them to a standstill and gently coaxed her girlfriend to face her. She placed two fingers under the brunette's chin and encouraged green to meet brown.
For a brief moment Myka obeyed before breaking eye contact again and gazing up at the sky. "Stupid hormones," she muttered as she wiped again at her cheeks.
Helena smiled in sympathy. "Yes, I vaguely recall how much of a nuisance they can be." She pulled the end of a pullover sleeve from the cuff of her coat and joined in the attempt to dry her girlfriend's moist face. "Darling, are you really so afraid that something will happen to our baby?"
Shrugging, Myka fought back a second wave of emotion. "I just... I forget sometimes, and then... I remember, and I just feel... vulnerable." She finally met Helena's gaze again of her own accord and sighed. "I didn't ask for this, and I can't say that I ever would have asked for this, but now that I have this fragile, precious thing in my body, I think about how easily I could lose it."
"I'm sorry to tell you, love, but even after they're born, that feeling never truly goes away. You will learn to live with it though and you won't always be riddled with gestational hormones that compound the feeling." Helena glanced at their friends who were quite happily building with the snow. "We're both concerned with causing Christina unnecessary distress. We can wait a couple of weeks, if you would prefer not to tell her about the baby now. I do understand why you don't want her to know yet." Tucking her arm back around Myka's, HG pulled them onto the path again. "As for London..."
"She's been asking when we'll visit," Myka prodded gently. "I only thought it would be easier to help her and listen to her, if she was upset in any way, without a screaming baby taking up most of our attention."
"I suppose it has to be, since you put it that way," Helena sighed in defeat. She really wasn't looking forward to taking her daughter back to their routes. She had many fond memories of the city she grew up in, but their home was with Myka now and she didn't want to cause any sense of conflict between their past lives and their present or future. "You won't want to fly during your first trimester, believe me. Travel sickness and morning sickness are not a pleasant combination. Though I think an aeroplane would be preferable to a boat."
Returning to the living room after what felt like her tenth trip to the toilet, Myka smiled at mother and daughter curled up on the rug in front of the fire, both wrapped snugly in Christmas themed pyjamas and slippers. Helena glanced up before long, the smile that lit up her features making the taller agent's breath catch in her throat. Their disagreements, which were usually debated with stubbornness and logic, had become a much tearier affair of late. Agent Bering detested the fact that even the slightest provocation by her lover reduced her to a whimpering wreck, but it couldn't be helped. She would simply have to tough it out and hope for some sense of normalcy to return to her body once she was no longer playing incubator for another life.
With soft steps and hands hiding a surprise gift behind her back, Myka approached her girls and knelt down beside them. Helena narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Christina finally noticed her presence and beamed at her.
The young girl was quick to spot the odd angle of her Mama's arms and cocked her head to one side curiously. "Mama. What do you have behind your back?" She asked, her excitement building.
Myka leant forward and kissed her daughter's forehead. "Something I picked up from my old room when I went to visit my parents in Colorado." With a practised move, she revealed the decorative wooden box that she'd had hidden under the stairs for weeks. "It's not really a gift, as such, but I wanted to share some of my treasures with you and, possibly return something to your mother." She felt her anticipation build as her girlfriend's curiosity matched their daughter's. Carefully, she opened the box and smiled as both Wells women leant forward to peek inside.
"Ooh, Mama they're pretty," the eight year old exclaimed. "May I touch them?"
As Christina's arm automatically reached toward the box, HG's gently pulled it back. "Myka, what are these treasures of yours? They look very fine, but otherwise entirely normal everyday objects. Are they...?" She had a very odd feeling as she looked down at the contents of the box and couldn't place her sudden concern.
Laid out on a bed of faded blue velvet was a pair of cufflinks, the nib of a quill, a brooch in the shape of a swan, a scrap of thick, yellowed parchment, two monocles, a silver hair clip with inlaid amethysts and several other regular looking trinkets. They were all obviously old though and experience made the time-traveller cautious.
"They're safe Helena. I had Artie and Leena test them all out at the Warehouse, including the box. They kept a penknife because Leena said it was being moody, but that's all. It was supposed to have belonged to Shakespeare, which he reportedly used to sharpen his quills." The brunette appeared momentarily disappointed at the loss but quickly shook it off. "I collected all of these things for similar reasons; because they supposedly belonged to some important historical figure, but I think most of them are probably just pretty objects like you said. However, I had hoped that one might be familiar to you..." From a small compartment hidden on the side of the box, Myka pulled out a bundle wrapped in a green, silk ribbon. She handed it to her girlfriend and waited.
Helena felt a tingle of something powerful pass through her and she shot her partner another wary glance. "Are you sure they tested everything thoroughly?"
Myka nodded. "There were some questions about this... set," she admitted. "But Mrs. Fredrick said that it belonged to you and that it was yours to use as you saw fit. I wouldn't have brought any of this within a mile of you both if I wasn't sure."
Christina bounced on her knees now. "Open it Mummy, I want to see."
Both adults rolled their eyes at their daughter and chucked at her enthusiasm. "Well then. Let's see what we have here." As the layers of silk fell away, HG gasped. Beneath the material lay a matching pair of gold rings, one nestled like a complimenting puzzle piece against the other. "These are..."
Buoyed by the shock on the inventor's face, Myka had to know what her lover was thinking. "Do you recognise them?" she asked eagerly.
HG glanced up at bright eyes, then quickly returned her focus to the objects lying in her palm. "They were my grandmother's," she whispered in awe. "My grandfather had them specially made for her. How... how did you find these? They would have cost a fortune to buy."
With a smug grin, Myka closed the box and placed it on the floor. "My dad used to let me follow him to pawn shops, usually while mom and Tracy were off shopping for clothes, and sometimes he'd let me use my allowance to buy trinkets and things that took my fancy."
"And he let you buy these?" Helena asked incredulously.
Myka chuckled. "No. My allowance wouldn't have stretched to something like this."
"How did you buy them then Mama?" Christina added to the inquiries, cuddling up to the brunette's side and feeling herself pulled into this story too.
"I actually didn't know I'd bought them," Myka continued to flesh out the mystery. "I was fourteen, wandering around a shop in Boston, browsing the shelves while my dad negotiated with the owner for a stack of Emily Dickinson's early editions. There were a lot of things that claimed to have origins in Europe. Things that people sold or traded the moment they stepped off the docks from wherever they'd travelled. I didn't take any notice most of the time; I trusted my gut."
Relaxing against one arm, Helena watched her daughter's immersion in Myka's recitation and felt a warm glow infuse her body. The rings burned against her palm. Not unpleasantly, but as if they were trying to get her attention.
Her grandmother's rings. They had been promised to a young Helena Wells so long ago, only to be lost to the ether when the stubborn old woman had finally relented to the reaper and passed on, leaving her scavenger-like relatives to pick apart her possessions. How on Earth had they landed in the hands of her One? Was it coincidence or fate? While her heart and head tugged over logic and romanticism, her gut led her in another direction.
Hadn't she been plagued with tempting imaginings on how to ask Myka for a more permanent affiliation? Didn't her wandering thoughts take her to the alter with her beloved? Coincidence or fate; what did it matter when the one she loved sat before her and the means to procure her hand had fallen into her possession? HG felt her gut twist with a sudden bought of nerves as she made her choice, her hand tightening slightly around the precious metal as, for now, she continued to listen to the story.
"I hadn't been long in the shop, when I felt compelled to venture down to the basement," Myka continued, gazing at Christina and missing the change in her girlfriend's expression. "Normally I wouldn't have been a fan of the dark and I was conscious of what my dad would say if I wandered off, but I had to go."
Bright eyes stared up at her in awe and Myka was suddenly very aware that she was telling her daughter a story of a young girl walking off without her parents. "Was it scary?"
"No. Not really." The American admitted reluctantly and then hastened to explain. "I felt protected. Like an invisible force was guiding my hand and promising that I would return safely. I would never have left my dad's side otherwise. You know you're never to wander off on your own don't you Sweetheart? I was much older than you are now and I never actually left the shop we were in."
"I know Mama," bright eyes softened in understanding, excitement tempering under her parent's concern. "Finish the story?" She pleaded gently.
"Alright," Myka smiled indulgently. "I eventually meandered my way to a small puzzle box and without even thinking, I grabbed it and took it back upstairs."
"Were the rings inside the puzzle box?"
Myka leant closer to the eight year old, her gaze intense as she enjoyed the effect her words were having on the youngster. "Yes, but I didn't know it then, and the negotiations for the books hadn't gone well. My dad wouldn't stay long enough to let me haggle for the box, so I had to leave it behind."
Christina's gasp brought a smile to both of her mothers' faces and they chuckled as she covered her mouth in anticipation of some terrible twist in the plot. "But then how did you get it?"
"I begged my mother for three days straight to let me return to the shop. On the penultimate day of our vacation, she finally gave in and pushed me out the door, telling me to 'be back before your father or there'll be hell to pay'." Myka's imitation of her mother's nervous tone made them all chuckle. "I ran back to the shop with all the money I had with me and begged the shop keeper to let me have the box. I wasn't very clever there; I'm sure I paid more for a puzzle box than it alone was worth, but considering what I found when I finally cracked it, well I knew it'd been worth it then." She looked over to her girlfriend and they shared a moment of simply staring and smiling.
"So how did you know to give them to me?" HG asked once the brief spell broke.
"While the owner was trying to bump up the price, he told me that it had belonged to HG Wells' family and that it'd passed to a cousin of 'his' after 'his' paternal grandmother passed away." A conspiratorial glance passed between them before Myka continued. "I suppose that part of the story was right. I guess your grandmother hid the rings inside before she died."
"Humf, sharp old bat that she was," HG muttered.
"Mummy! That's not very nice," Christina scolded her mother, making the elder Wells chuckle.
"I didn't mean any harm by it, love. Your great grandmother and I got along very well. My mother despaired at the two of us. She was constantly grumbling, saying 'Eleanor, she'll never grow into a respectable young lady if you keep filling her head full on nonsense'." It was Myka's turn now to listen with fascination. She loved her girlfriend's stories from her youth; it was like her own private link to a time long passed. "Grandma Norie never paid her any mind though and kept me apprised of all the latest news from parliament or new developments in the world of science and nature. She wasn't devout like my mother. She was actually a big Darwin supporter and encouraged me to read all about his exploits."
Glancing down at her hand again, the inventor's mouth turned up in a fond sign of nostalgia. Her dear Norie had whispered to her once that the rings were forged with love, for love; they were intended for one's soul mate, which was why they should have been passed on to her. Norie had known that Helena would not marry unless it was for love. Now, by some miracle, her intended had found the rings that would bind them for eternity. It was time.
"It is wonderful to finally have these in my possession but..." She paused for effect and winked confidently at her daughter. "I believe they are intended for another now."
Christina's face was still for a beat before understanding lit up her features and she nodded enthusiastically at her mother.
Turning back to the suddenly confused agent, Helena fixed her girlfriend with a determined look. "Darling, will you stand up please?"
Myka froze, her mouth becoming dry as she too realised what the inventor had planned. "I don't think I can," she whispered hoarsely.
Christina jumped to her feet and offered her Mama a hand. The agent took it automatically; almost oblivious to her surroundings as her eyes stayed fixed on the elder Victorian and her every move. Once she was standing, the young girl leapt across the room and perched on the edge of the couch where she felt she had the best view.
Keeping eye contact with her lover, Helena repositioned herself so she knelt on one knee and took one of Myka's trembling hands in her own, smiling as a gasp escaped from the taller agent.
"Helena..." the brunette's weak voice sounded between them.
"Hush now darling," the inventor chided playfully. "It's my turn." She watched her girlfriend swallow hard and nod, and heard Christina giggle. When all was calm again, HG took a steadying breath of her own.
This day would stay with them always. Though certain of Myka's reply, what she did and said here and now marked a pivotal moment in their lives. She had practised many ways to 'pop the question', some of her inner monologues taking up far too much time. This wasn't the place she had envisioned for a romantic and memorable proposal, but it was personal and spontaneous, and perfect in its own way. No matter what she said, the sentiments would be felt in a thousand different ways, through every day of their lives together.
"Myka," she began, the tightness in her chest easing as her American goddess finally overcame her nerves and smiled. "You are my love. My life... Will you be my wife?" She saw fond exasperation cross those green orbs and fell in love all over again as her partner's uninhibited laughter filled the room and dispersed any lingering anxiety.
"Did you just propose to me in rhyme?" A cocky smirk met Myka's mirth and she shook her head. "You're terrible. I thought you were a writer," she teased.
"Charles was the writer. I never made that claim," her grin widened and an all too familiar glint darkened her eyes. "My talents lie elsewhere."
Blushing at the memory of Helena putting some of those other talents to use, Myka found her mind wandering, her thoughts getting lost in those mahogany eyes.
"Mama!"
Christina's impatient cry snapped them out of their trance, the brunette blushing again, accompanied by a sharp 'oh!' that made them all chuckle.
Gazing up into features that were happier than she'd ever seen them, Helena's own expression softened. "Do you have an answer for me, love?"
The taller agent nodded, no hesitation in her voice as she gave her reply. "Yes." Pulling the time-traveller to her feet, Myka held her beloved's face between her palms and kissed her soundly. "Most emphatically, yes." She allowed Helena to take her hand and slide one-half of the pair of rings onto her finger, only mildly surprised when it fit as if it had been made for her. She then tunnelled her fingers into raven hair and pulled the inventor into a longer kiss, tongues tangling in a slow dance as strong arms wound around her waist.
As her parent's gradually began to come up for air, Christina bounced up from her perch and ran over to embrace them, looking up with bright, excited eyes. "I want to be the flower girl... No! A bride's maid... No! A flower girl!"
Barely aware that she was smiling so much her cheeks hurt, Myka temporarily released her new fiancé and gathered their daughter into a crushing hug. "You can be both, if you want to." Keeping her arm around the young girl, she couldn't stop her gaze wandering back to her partner... Lover... Wife to be. She watched a slender thumb reach up to gather a tear from her cheek and found that she really didn't care if she was crying again. She had never been so happy in all her life.
In a tangled web of arms, they eventually found their way over to the couch and curled up to bask in the feelings of utter contentment. Christina lay half sprawled over Myka's lap, while the agent reclined against Helena's front, her fingers playing unconsciously with her ring and occasionally turning her head to meet a heated gaze and equally warm lips.
Both women silently agreed to let their daughter carry the discussion about dresses and dances, each contributing their fair share while having their own conversation that simply said, 'I love you' and 'I know. I love you too'. This way they stayed, until tired yawns punctuated the eight year old's every other word and HG carried the exhausted child up to bed.
Even beneath the sheets, words were not needed to convey what eyes, hands, lips and tongues could, and with each blissful release, they strengthened the foundation of a bond none but themselves could break.
So there you go. Thanks again for sticking with me. Hope you all enjoyed this one as much as I did. I have begun writing part three. I have some very definite ideas for what I would like to happen, but then lots of gaps too, so any suggestions are welcome.