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Myka loves baking. It’s a rare occurrence that she actually has time and she’s determined to savour it. There’s something about the simple act of following clear instructions, the delicious smell and the satisfying end result of the treat itself that makes the entire process cathartic. Today is slightly gloomy, an overcast day in Univille. The weather is starting to cool down and she’s in the mood for something warm and comforting. Apple and cinnamon muffins should hit the spot just right. Of course she’ll add choc chips and a crunchy crumble on top, maybe even some extra cinnamon? There’s something about the spice that she’s always found comforting, especially on a cold day. Pete is already eyeing her from the dining room. She has no doubt he’ll be over the second the packet of chocolate chips are open, casually trying to distract her while he steals them until she chases him out with the wooden spoon. She can hear Claudia upstairs, probably beating Jinx at some video game. It feels like home and she slowly relaxes into the process.
First: preheat oven, check. The store only had brightly coloured papers, not the plain ones she usually prefers. She might as well just write Pete’s name on them (and Artie’s as well, he still thinks she doesn’t notice and she lets him keep thinking that.) She puts them in rainbow order, finding it very satisfying. They’re too small, so she has to open them up a bit to get them to fit in the muffin tray. She isn’t aiming for little bite sized muffins here, they will be gone by the end of the day as is. She gets out all the ingredients, dissatisfied with the quality of apples the local store had available. They’ll have to do, these likely won’t be her best work, not that anyone will mind. She measures out the dry ingredients one by one, her mind calming into almost a zen like state with the process. Next she measures the butter, placing it in the appropriate container to melt it. Before she can do that, the apples must be peeled and chopped and she goes about the task with ease, casually munching on a piece of leftover apple. It’s sweeter than she expected, despite the mild bruising on the outside of the fruit.
Her mind wonders to the source of her current stress as she washes the sticky juice off her hands before placing the butter in the microwave. A certain brunette, British accent, far too charming for her own good. She’s always flirting but has yet to make a move Myka has begun to wonder if she’s reading too much into it? The beeping of the microwave interrupts her train of thought and she stirs the remaining lumps of butter until they’re sufficiently melted. Then she cracks the eggs and measures out the milk, before placing all three ingredients into a large mixing bowl. They need to be thoroughly whisked together, or the texture won’t come out right. Once that’s done she mixes dry into wet, watching Pete’s interest out the corner of her eye.
One of these days, she’s going to booby trap the choc chips just to get a reaction out of him. A little revenge never hurt anyone. Today is not that day and she’s about to cut open the bag, Pete’s head tilting up as his eyes zero in on his target, when the sound of footsteps make their way downstairs towards the kitchen. Myka’s heart rate picks up, almost missing a beat when she sees what Helena’s wearing.
A dress shirt.
Just a dress shirt.
Shit.
She swallows it down as her brain continues to short circuit, concentrating at the task at hand. It’s really no match for Helena G Wells.
“Good morning, oh are you baking? How delightful! You know, I have a great scone recipe I’ll show you sometime.” She casually leans against the counter, looking very at ease for someone half dressed. Her cocky smile appears as she dips her finger into the batter, licking it off. Myka is transfixed, watching the dart of a tongue as heat curls where it has no right to. When she finally manages to shake herself out of it, she’s instantly annoyed with herself. Pete knows better than to dip his fingers into the batter, it seems that Helena does not and she especially does not have the right to make it look so damn good. Her annoyance racks up a few notches, as does her glare. Pete has become annoyingly immune and she frequently has to channel her inner grumpy Artie with him. Having been on the receiving end of a grumpy Artie more than a few times, it’s not that hard. Thankfully they haven’t quite reached that level, at least not yet.
“Maybe another day, right now I’m in the mood for these,” she replies curtly. Helena tilts her head to the side at the change of tone.
“Is everything OK? I haven’t overstepped, have I?” She asks, in that annoyingly charming British accent that wraps around her and does things it has no right to do. Combined with that shirt, the baking and the lazy Sunday morning, it’s all too easy for Myka to imagine this conversation going in a completely different direction. She can almost feel Helena’s arms wrap around her, a warm kiss against her cheek. Even the thought of it has warmth flowing through her like liquid honey. Of course it won’t end that way, for all Helena’s flirting she’s yet to actually make a move, leaving Myka to wonder if she’s nothing more than a distraction? The hurt cuts through the warmth and no matter how many times Myka tells herself she has no business feeling this way, the heart wants what it wants. She’s always been good at learning not to want things she knows she can never have, but something about Helena has slipped past all of her defences and left her with an empty longing in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps all she needs is a little closure? It will hurt of course but at least she won’t be stuck in this limbo of never quite knowing where she stands with the other woman. Surely there must be something at the warehouse that could help? Even as she thinks about how much of a bad idea it is, once the idea has taken root she can’t quite seem to shake it.
“Of course not,” she replies, in a way that heavily implies ‘everything is not really fine, but what am I supposed to say?’ At least that’s how she feels but, unfortunately for Helena, the source of Myka’s discomfort remains elusive. Thankfully Pete chooses this moment to intervene. There’s only so much interruption Myka will tolerate when she’s baking before she eventually gets sick of him and chases him out with the wooden spoon or Tesla, whichever’s closer. That’s on a good day which, judging by the look on her face and rapid deterioration of her mood, today is turning out to be the opposite. What is it with smart people being so incredibly dense? He wonders.
“Hey HG, how ‘bout we leave her to it? I can’t be the official taste tester if there’s nothing to taste.” Before she can protest, he wraps an arm around hers, gently pulling her in the direction of the living room. After a moment of confused resistance, followed by a glare that remind him far too much of Myka’s, she relents.
“Sure, I’ve got some laundry to do anyway.” He doesn’t even snag a choc chip as he leads her out, leaving Myka to secretly munch on them instead. She’s stressed now, hyperaware of her own spiralling thoughts but unable to slow them down.
Instead she does what she always does when it comes to Helena; she ignores the problem and throws herself into whatever distraction she has on hand. Adding the extra cinnamon, followed by the apples and at least half the bag of choc chips, probably a few more. A few for her as well, until the bag is nearly empty and she just throws them all in. It’s not like Pete is going to complain.
Everything is fine, just mix it all up, spoon the batter evenly into the pans, making a slight mess on the bench. She licks the rest off her fingers, washing her hands as she grabs the sponge to wipe up the mess. Then all that’s left is to methodically make the crumble. Just melt the butter, don’t use too much. Mix. Sprinkle evenly on top before the two trays go into the oven, set the timer, no British agents in sight. Fine, all fine, fine, fine. Just wash up, which technically someone else should be doing since she’s the one cooking but she likes the extra distraction. Strange, Pete hasn’t returned to lick the bowl and for once, she gets to do it. Hmm, not bad. She washes up, thinking of their latest case, the Warehouse, what she wants to do this afternoon, anything but a certain someone.
The dishes are done far too quickly and she checks the timer, still ten minutes. She pulls out the cooling racks and an oven mitt but there’s nothing left to do and she’s suddenly left alone with her thoughts. She debates going to see how Leena’s gardening is going, her calming presence is always good for her. Her intuition however is not and she’ll surely know that something is up. Instead Myka rapidly retreats to the safety of her room, full introvert mode activated, as Pete would say. She pulls out her journal, simple but high quality, gold foiled literary quote on the cover (thankfully not one of HG’s.) The fountain pen was a gift from Artie, vintage but artefact free. She begins to write, long lines pouring out of her, the knot of emotions inside her slowly beginning to untangle until she can breathe again. The timer goes off, ringing throughout the B&B. She finishes her line before heading back downstairs to check on the muffins. The skewer comes out clean and they’re no sooner out the oven before Pete appears, as if summoned by the timer.
“They’re hot,” she warns, a little too late judging by his ‘ow’ and rapid shaking of fingers. He still manages to get one out with a napkin, beating a hasty retreat before she can tell him off. She leaves the trays on the cooling racks, enjoying the delicious baked scent as she finally calms down.
Unfortunately for her, it’s very short lived. Helena, now wearing pants at least, reappears with that damn charming smile before Myka can make an excuse and go back to her room. Claudia usually comes down not long after the timer, she just has to survive long enough to be rescued and everything will be fine. Why did Pete have to leave her here? She should have bribed him with a second muffin, no questions asked.
“Those smell delectable.” The way it just rolls off her tongue is entirely unfair.
“Thanks. Help yourself once they’ve cooled down.” Suddenly she’s not even hungry, or in the mood for tea to go with a warm muffin and a book, as she’d been planning. That feeling is back in the pit of her stomach, anxiety laced with want and something colder that’s beginning to feel suspiciously like rejection. It’s been a long time since she’s felt this unwanted. She’s almost out of the kitchen, she just needs to get round the corner. Claudia and Jinx come clambering down the stairs at the same time, like hero’s ready for battle.
“Muffins are ready,” she calls and it might as well be a call to arms, for the insuring race and flurry of activity gives her plenty of cover to sneak back out. The scantily of her room is a welcome relief and she makes sure to close the door, grabbing a cushion so she can sit in front of the window and continue writing. Her peace lasts all of two minutes before there’s a knock.
“Yeah Pete?” The door opens but of course it’s not Pete, it would be Helena, tray in hand with muffins and tea. Why wouldn’t she be thoughtful, sweet and completely oblivious? Myka’s stomach drops and she has the sudden, irrational urge to just run. That won’t protect her from the heartbreak she can feel coming every time there’s a moment between them but Helena turns away at the last second.
“I brought you a muffin before they’re all gone. It’s warfare out there.” She smiles that same charming smile that Myka has yet to figure out how to build an immunity to. At least she’ll get a muffin while they’re still warm, she tries to reason with herself but that only makes her feel more numb.
“Thanks,” she says, realising too late she’s still got her journal and that’s all kinds of bad if it ever sees the light of day, especially if it’s Helena’s eyes that read over the pages. Her heart kicks up, anxiety filling ever nerve ending but she can’t hide it now, that would only be suspicious. Instead she carefully closes it and places it, with the pen on top, on the windowsill as if it’s nothing special. Helena puts the tray down, grabbing a cushion off the bed to join her.
“These really do smell divine. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve baked.” She takes a bite and Myka picks up her own as a distraction, which really doesn’t work given the way HG’s eyes slide shut, her small hum of pleasure entirely too captivating. Does she do this on purpose? Myka wonders. Surely she must be aware of the effect she’s having, but when deep eyes re-open there’s no sign of anything more and Myka sighs.
“What are you writing?” Helena asks and it takes Myka’s brain a stupidly long time to realise she’s motioning to her journal. Oh shit. Panic takes over her body before she can stop it, or come up with an excuse better than “oh, it’s nothing.”
Of course Helena doesn’t buy it for a second.
“It’s not nothing, show me? I happened to be quite the expert you know.” Her charm, which would usually have butterflies playing in her stomach, has no effect over her sheer panic.
“Really Helena, it’s nothing.” The ‘let it go,’ is clearly implied in her tone but naturally she remains unconvinced. Where the hell is Pete when she needs him? Probably eating all the muffins she made before Artie can get to them. She’s forgotten to put some aside, hopefully Leena will but that’s not her primary concern right now.
“I swear if you touch that, I will re-bronze you myself and put you so deep in the dark vault no one will ever find you.” It has the desired effect as Helena’s hand pauses half way towards her beloved journal, a touch of hurt catching her expression before she smooths it over.
“Oh, so it’s personal?” Myka’s glare could have melted half of the warehouse. In fact, it’s entirely unfair that Helena doesn’t just melt on the spot, then all of her problems would be solved, at least in theory.
“Ok, message received.” She holds her hands up in surrender, the tone between them quickly souring. The second she leaves Myka is going to hide it somewhere where she, or anyone else, will never find it and if an unfortunate soul happens to stumble upon it, they’ll be in for a world of pain.
“This is quite delicious though, you must give me the recipe.” Helena says, trying to break some of the thick tension. Myka isn’t sure she has the energy left to keep pretending everything is fine, but she’s saved from finding out by the heavy sounds of Pete’s footsteps.
“Sorry, am I interrupting book club?” He asks, empty wrapper in his hand as he leans against the doorframe. Finally, where was he five minutes ago? She gives him a look, which he correctly interprets as ‘get Helena out of here.’ He’s not entirely sure what’s going on between the pair, there’s clearly been a lot of flirting but Myka has started to become more and more closed off. Still, he’s her partner so he won’t question her in front of anyone.
“Not at all Pete, come on in.” Helena looks slightly displeased but Myka breathes a secret sigh of relief and he’ll always be on her side.
“I think the washing machine must be done by now, I should go check.” She takes the rest of her muffin and retreats rather quickly. The second she’s out of sight, Myka grabs the journal, scanning the room for a suitable emergency hiding place, unconcerned if Pete sees. He won’t read her diary, he’s her partner and besides, he knows the consequences should he attempt such a dangerous mission.
“Where were you five minutes ago?”
“Trying to get a muffin from Claudia!” He replies in defence of himself. He watches her frantic movements, correctly coming to the conclusion that something is very wrong.
“Why, is there a problem with HG?” He asks carefully, watching her reaction. Her eyes widen with panic at the mere mention of the agent’s name, her muscles tense and her head tilted slightly in a way that means she’s very uncomfortable. Oh yeah, definitely a problem.
“No. Yes. Maybe. No, it’s fine, I’m fine, everything is fine.” Yeah, and I’m Santa clause, he thinks sarcastically. Actually, that would be more believable.
“So you don’t need me here then?” He’s barely taken a step before she rounds on him.
“Oh no, don’t you dare leave me alone with her.”
“Ah, so there is a problem then?” For a second, she looks like an angry five year old, but the hurt that clouds her eyes tells a different story.
“Fine, there is a small problem.” He raises an eyebrow for more, waiting her out. It doesn’t take long for Myka to deflate, flopping onto her bed starfish style. Uh oh, that’s not a good sign he thinks, as he contemplates the best approach. If he isn’t careful, she’ll shut down or run.
“What did she do?” He asks, draping himself beside her. She sighs, her arm covering her face.
“Nothing,” she mumbles into the bedding.
“So why are you so evasive every time she comes in?” She rolls over to face him, resting her head in her hand, elbow on the bed. It reminds him a lot of his sister and the instinct to protect blooms in his heart, not that she needs anyone’s protection. She definitely needs a friend though and she clearly needs to talk about whatever’s on her mind.
“That’s the problem! She flirts but she does that with a lot of people.”
“But not like she does with you.” He’s noticed of course, but the blush that covers her cheeks confirms his suspicions. He’d be happy for her but clearly she’s upset and if she’s mad at HG, then as her partner, so is he.
“She doesn’t do anything more than that. What if I’m just a distraction to her?”
“Come on Mykes, you know you mean more than that. Why don’t you make a move on her?” There are many jokes bouncing around his head but as Myka’s eyes hit the floor he simply doesn’t have the heart to tease her. He hasn’t seen her this unsure since she was about to walk the catwalk.
“Because I don’t know how she feels? I don’t want to get hurt Pete, I don’t know if I can go through that again and with her working here now…” He didn’t think it was possible for her voice to get any smaller, but it does.
“So lets find out,” he offers, giving her his best grin. Her eyes snap up to meet his.
“Pete, I swear if you tell anyone…”
“I would never! No, I was thinking, surely there must be an artefact that can help us? After everything we’ve been through, don’t you think it’s time to do a little good for us?” Myka eyes him skeptically, her thoughts from earlier returning. Yes, it’s a very bad idea, but how many times had Artie used one? Not to mention Mrs Frederick, or the regents?
“I won’t tell Artie if you won’t, Leena even saved some muffins for him. Come on, we’ll bribe him and he won’t even notice.” She relents, a small smile beginning to bloom and he offers her a hand, pulling her up. Anything is better than a sad Myka.
“That’s if you don’t eat them all first.” She gives him a classic look and he smirks at her as she follows him out, pleased that some of her sass is returning.
“Nope.”
“No.”
“Too dangerous.”
“Too many side effects.”
“No.”
After successfully bribing their way past Artie (he’s a sucker for Myka’s baking,) their search for the perfect artefact has turned up a whole lot of nothing. Myka can just about hear Artie’s voice in her head telling her it’s a bad idea but Pete has her back if it goes wrong, which it won’t, because they are extremely careful.
“Hey Mykes, bingo. Truth staff.”
“A little on the nose but it sounds promising.” She leans over Pete’s shoulder, looking at the terminal screen. They’re already a few aisles deep to avoid any prying eyes. It is indeed a staff, some kind of green stone embedded into the end, intricate patterns and symbols carved into it. She can’t make them all out on the screen.
“Whoever holds it revels their deepest secrets and cannot lie. Hey, it sounds like Wonder Woman’s lasso of truth.”
“What’s the down side?”
“If you use it for long enough, you can’t ever lie.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad, it’s not like we’re giving it to a politician.” Pete frowns at something on screen.
“Um, it says here that it stared a war.”
“Yeah, that’s bad.”
“But we aren’t planning to use it for that long. If you think about it, we’re just going to ask a couple of simple questions and hey presto, we’re good to go.” Myka considers it, reading over the information carefully. There’s nothing to indicate it has any short term side effects beyond a brief period of memory loss, which could actually work in their favour.
“How are we going to get her to hold the staff? It looks pretty artefacty.”
“It says here it activates as soon as contact is made, all we need to do is catch her by surprise. What do you think Mykes?”
“I think we have a plan.”
“Perfect, shall we nab us a truth telling artefact m’lady?” He offers up his arm and she wraps hers around his, grinning.
“I believe we shall.”
They manage to smuggle the staff, which is larger than they thought, past Artie and back to the B&B with a surprising amount of ease. If only all their missions went this well.
“So how do you want to play this?” She asks as they successfully make it back to her room, shutting the door from any prying ears. Her anxiety has picked up again, but having a plan to focus on is taming it.
“One of us distracts her, the other puts this in her hand?”
“She’s an agent Pete, won’t she see that coming?”
“On a Sunday, at the B&B? Not even you would be that suspicious.”
“Good point, I think. So I distract her, you sneak in and give her the staff?” Pete nods.
“But how?”
“I don’t know, just ask her about books, or one of her old missions. She does like to talk about herself. Just be yourself Mykes, you’ll be fine.” He gives her a re-assuring look and some of the tension deflates from her body.
“Yeah, I can do that. Ready?” Pete nods, holding up the staff in a purple gloved hand, pointing forwards like a warrior about to go into battle.
“Lets go get us some truth!” He points out the door with the staff and Myka smiles, following behind him.
“Wonder Woman?”
“A Pete Lattimer original.”
Helena is in the garden when they find her, with a cup of tea and book in hand, not unlike what Myka had been planning for the afternoon. She looks very cozy but the mere sight of the agent still makes her nervous. Pete nods from a hiding place in the bushes and she takes a deep breath. It’s now or never.
“Hey Helena.” She looks up, that smile that makes Myka’s knees weak returning.
“Oh Myka, hello.” She hesitantly takes a seat next to Helena, well aware of the tension that still lingers between them. Knowing she’s the cause only makes it worse.
“I just wanted to apologise for earlier. I don’t really like to be interrupted when I’m baking, it’s relaxing for me.”
“Not all all, I understand though I do wish you’d told me.” Guilt nearly trips up her plan but she keeps her eyes trained on Helena, which really isn’t all that difficult, as Pete approaches. He steps on a stick, the sound almost making her jump and Helena makes him, turning with a raised eyebrow and a look not unlike the one Myka has when he interrupts her reading.
“Pete, can I help you with something?” She asks and he uses the moment of confusion to put the staff in her hand.
“What on Earth is…” she freezes and there’s a moment where her eyes seem to glow, as the staff activates whatever truth telling power it has. She turns on Pete, glaring.
“Why, pray tell, do you always have to interrupt me whenever I’m with Myka?”
“I think it works.” He replies. Actually, it’s working better than he expected. No disasters yet and HG won’t remember a thing, perfect.
“Indeed it does. We just have a couple of questions for you and you can go back to your reading.” Myka says, putting on her best business tone despite the guilt beginning to take root. Helena’s attention returns to her, now highly suspicious.
“What kind of questions, Myka what is this?” She shakes the staff but it remains firmly into her hand, as if glued there.
“Nothing important. So Helena, I need to know how you feel and if, you know, does it mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you I mean…” She trails off, unsure how to put her thoughts, which are rapidly spiralling into an anxiety induced tornado, into words. Pete, being the good partner that he is decides to step in.
“Do you likey-like Myka?” He receives a look from said agent, but being highly Myka immune at this point, it has little effect.
“Of course I like Myka, she’s my friend.” Myka deflates a little, staring at her hands, suddenly wishing to be anywhere but here. This whole thing was a bad idea. What if there’s nothing more between them than friendship? Suddenly she regrets wanting closure, being caught in a maybe is definitely better than outright rejection.
“Yes, that’s obvious.” Pete barely resists an eye roll. Everyone can see what’s been going on between the pair but until someone admits their feelings, they’ll be caught in a stalemate that’s beginning to have a negative effect on Myka. Of course he’s team Myka all the way.
“What we’re asking is if those feelings go beyond friendship?” Her cheeks colour a little and Myka finally looks up, her hands fidgety as she waits for an answer that could make or break her.
“I….I don’t want to answer that.” Leave it to HG to find a loophole. Pete glares at her, but Myka responds before he can continue to interrogate her.
“So you don’t like me then? Like that I mean.” Helena’s eyes turn to her, wide with panic.
“That’s not….Myka I….Please don’t make me do this.” She looks between the two holding her hostage, silently begging Myka as her heart begins to sink.
“Just answer the questions and you’re free to go,” Pete replies in his no-nonsense tone. He doesn’t use it much but when he does it always has the desired effect.
“Ok yes, yes I like her! How could I not? She’s so beautiful and clever, I could write a whole book about her endless kindness. Don’t you see?” There’s a moment of stunned silence, then Pete smirks, Helena is mortified and Myka is dazed.
“Well I guess that answers that then.”
“But wait, I…” Pete takes the staff before she can finish the sentence, not wanting to ruin Myka’s moment. They share a look and they both bolt before Helena realises something has happened.
“We did it, holy crap, we actually did it.”
“Pete did you hear what she said? She likes me, she actually likes me!” Myka is positively giddy, all but bouncing on the spot. Her cheeks are warm and her smile is lopsided. Pete barely resists doing a victory dance, Myka’s happiness is far too important. He’s very relieved to see her finally happy again.
“Good, now go talk to her.”
“I, wait, what? Pete I can’t.” She freezes like the proverbial dear in the headlights.
“Yes you can, I believe in you Myka. You like her and she likes you, it doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that. I’m going to hide this, you can do it.”
“That’s actually good advice.”
“Hey, I can be useful. Now quit stalling, go get the girl.”
“Pete? Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
Helena is still on the garden bench, a slightly confused look on her face. A pang of guilt hits Myka right in the heart but she ignores it. Helena likes her and that’s all that matters, she reminds herself firmly. She’s got this.
“Hey Helena.”
“Myka, hello. Sorry I was just reading, I must have spaced out. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to apologise for earlier. Cooking is kind of a calming thing for me, I don’t really like being interrupted.”
“No, I’m the one who owes an apology. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“It’s ok. What are you reading?”
“Something that’s clearly not as engaging as I remember.”
“Maybe it’s just not a reading kind of day. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go into town with me tonight?” Myka asks nervously, staring down at her hands. When she looks up, Helena looks slightly taken aback and she wonders if she’s made the right decision? If it wasn’t for the staff, she’d be mortified right now. Wait, hadn’t Helena been about to say something when Pete took the staff away? What if she likes her, but the feelings don’t go beyond friendship? What if this is a mistake? All her old fears suddenly come rushing back, multiplied ten fold by her guilt.
“You know what, it’s stupid. Forget I said anything.” She gets up, ready to flee back to the safety of her room but Helena grabs her arm, halting her movements. When she looks down, there’s something in Helena’s eyes that she can’t identify,
“No Myka, I mean yes, yes I’ll go with you, of course I will.”
“Really?”
“Actually I’d love to.” Their gaze holds a moment, suspended in time. Warmth flutters in her heart and for the first time she begins to entertain the possibility that all of her feelings could actually be reciprocated. The moment is broken by Pete, who comes running up with a very concerned look.
“Um, sorry to interrupt, Myka we have a little problem with the uh, thing from earlier.” He makes a vague, staff shaped gesture. Helena gets the same annoyed look from earlier, now Pete knows it’s an ‘interrupting my time with Myka,’ look. He resists giving her a look of his own, after all he’s not the one who can’t admit his feelings.
“Oh yeah, um, we should probably go deal with that.” Myka makes to go with Pete but Helena isn’t about to let it go that easily.
“What problem?”
“Oh, it’s nothing really.” They take a few more steps away but she stands up to follow. She can be very intimidating when she wants to be.
“You know, I’m getting quite tired of hearing that phrase today. If it’s nothing, why do you insist that Myka accompany you?”
“Well it’s a two person kind of nothing but definitely not a threesome,” Pete replies.
“We should probably just go.” Myka tries to pull Pete away, but Helena stops her.
“No-one is going anywhere until you enlighten me.” The partners share a look and just like earlier, they decide it’s easier to bolt. She sighs.
“I’m dealing with children.”
“Pete, what the hell happened?” Myka asks, crouched under the dining room window. There’s a lot of yelling and objects are being thrown everywhere. Leena will not be pleased.
“Claudia caught me when I came in and she threatened to tell Artie.”
“Traitor!”
“I know right? When I told her what the staff does, she wanted to use it on Jinx. Give him a taste of his own medicine, you know? It was going fine but I think the longer the staff works, the more people it effects. They started arguing, then Leena came in and she was affected. She started going on and on about how we never clean up after ourselves. I tried to get it off her but she hit me on the head with it, which hurt by the way. Then I came to find you and here we are.”
“Why didn’t it work on us when we used it on HG?”
“You did what?” The two turn around, guiltily facing an angry Helena.
“Look, we can explain,” Myka begins but she’s cut off. “No need, this explains a lot.”
“HG listen…”
“No, I will not listen. I’ve had enough of your games Pete Lattimer.”
“Our games? If you’d just grow a pair and tell Myka how you feel, we wouldn’t have had to!”
“I…what?” For once, the author is lost for words. If it wasn’t for the imminent danger, Pete would be mighty pleased with himself.
“Uh oh, I think you’ve both been affected,” Myka says but Pete shakes his head.
“No, I’m just telling her the truth. The rest is up to her but right now we need to fix this, preferably while there’s still time to sneak it past Artie before he finds out.”
“Good idea. Got a plan?” Myka replies.
“Wait, you said it didn’t effect the two of you?”
“No. I was wearing purple gloves but Myka wasn’t and we’re both fine.”
“So maybe you have to make direct contact with it, or tell the truth when in it’s presence.”
“That makes sense, Myka and I never lied. Claudia did after she gave it to Jinx, which is when it all started.”
“So how do we stop it?”
“We get them to tell the truth, at least long enough to snag, bag, tag and run.”
“Sounds good to me. You in HG?”
“Very well, but this conversation isn’t over.”
“Fair enough, lets go.”
They all sneak in from different directions, blocking the exits. Leena, Claudia and Jinx all seem to be caught in some kind of standoff, Claudia holding the staff like she’s a queen addressing her royal subjects.
“Hey guys, how’s it going?” Pete asks casually, carefully taking a step into the room. They all turn on him as if he’s the enemy.
“Pete, nice of you to put out the trash like I told you to.” Leena says, the first to round on him.
“I, ah…” He takes a step back but Myka can see the disaster already unfolding and she ducks back out of sight, Helena quickly following her lead.
“Oh, and that game you ‘won’ the other day, I totally know you cheated.” Claudia follows suit. Myka can see Pete hesitate and the intention to lie is enough for the artefact to get to him. His eyes glow the same as Helena’s had and soon an argument breaks out within the group. She returns to Helena, who hunkered down in the kitchen. The smell of baked goods still lingers in the air and despite the escalating argument, it feels like one of their missions, a comforting familiarity.
“Even the intention to lie is enough, what do we do?” Myka whispers.
“I think it’s gaining power. Did you really think using an artefact was a good idea?” Myka hesitates, then remembers Pete doing the same and she wills herself to be truthful.
“No, I was actually kind of surprised we made it this far.” Helena tilts her head to the side, but it’s curiosity, not anger that Myka can see in her eyes.
“Then why did you use it?”
“Because I…I just wanted to know if any of the flirting meant anything to you.” Helena’s eyes soften, her whole body deflating.
“Oh Myka, why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because you would have just brushed it off, made some kind of charming joke as if it didn’t matter, but it does.” The hurt in her voice tells a story all on it’s own.
“I know it matters, I was just afraid I suppose.” Myka leans closer, resisting the urge to reach out to her. Even her presence is intoxicating.
“Of what?”
“Bad things happen to those I hold dear, I don’t want you to become one of them. You mean a great deal to me, but you deserve better.” Myka melts. She’s unable to resist the urge to wrap her arms around Helena, breathing in her scent, the soft silky tresses of her hair. She hadn’t realised just how badly she wanted this, how much energy it was taking to hold back until she no longer has to. All the tension and stress leaves her body like a breath of fresh air and she sinks further into the embrace, happily drowning in the feeling of comfort.
“Helena, that’s not your fault. I know you better than I know myself and I’m not afraid. Bad things will always happen in the world, don’t you think we deserve some good?” Helena pulls back, giving her a watery smile. Her hand gently cups a soft cheek, her mind returning to that morning. Myka has been entirely too cute for her own good, wooden spoon in hand, a dollop of mixture on her cheek that she’d been far too tempted to remove with her tongue. Avoiding the urge to kiss her had indeed been very challenging. Perhaps she should have acted upon the urge? What a wonderful morning it would have been, if only she had the courage. After the debacle in Boone, her usual suave has been somewhat lacking.
“Indeed we do darling.” Her eyes linger, the shouting coming from the other room the only thing standing between them and a kiss that’s taken far too much time. “I have an idea. Lets go rescue this lot first, then we’ll have the rest of the day to ourselves. You said they’ll have no memory of this after?”
“None.” She smirks.
“Perfect.”
They manage to get the artefact back with minimal damage which, rather than explaining, they leave them all to ponder as they drive back to the warehouse.
“Wait,” Myka says before Helena gets out of the car.
“What ever are you doing?” She replies, grabbing Myka’a arm when she opens the static bag containing the artefact.
“I don’t know if I can say this without it.”
“Myka no, that thing has done enough damage. Whatever it is, you don’t need an artefact for it.”
“But I’m a coward.” Her eyes are downturned and Helena gently tilts her chin up.
“Honestly, so am I. I should have kissed you in the kitchen this morning. At least you tried to do something.”
“Stupidly did something.”
“It’s the intent that counts. Besides, we have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves.”
“Yeah but, you still want to spend time with me, after what Pete and I did?”
“Well I doubt Pete will remember any of it, so yes, I most definitely do.” She leans in, gently placing a kiss on Myka’s cheek. It’s even softer pressed against her lips and she lingers for a few moments, simply breathing in her scent.
“Now lets go sneak this past Artie and instead of going back to the B&B, where we will no doubt be interrupted, how about we find somewhere nice and quiet?” Myka is powerless to resist her seductive tone, her head nodding before her brain can even catch up.
“Good, lets go.”
They do indeed sneak past Artie, with only a single knowing look. They deliberately ignore it, returning the staff to where it belongs safely on the warehouse shelf.
“Well that was quite the adventure, wasn’t it?” Helena says, taking off the purple gloves.
“I really am sorry.”
“Truely Myka, you are forgiven. I’ve done a lot worse so I’m hardly the person to judge.” She gives a humourless chuckle, still never quite able to forgive herself for Yellowstone. She’s unable to meet Myka’s eyes, putting on her usual bravado as she offers Myka her arm.
“Where would you like to go darling?” Myka leans into her side, a pleasant warmth falling over the pair.
“I have just the place.”
They naturally gravitate towards the warehouse library. The old books smell warm and comforting and the armchairs are well worn and just the right amount of comfortable. This time Myka doesn’t resist the urge to sit with her, happily snuggling into her side. Helena returns the embrace, a long lost comfort returning to her soul. She hadn’t realised just how much she’d been craving intimacy in the twenty first century, yet at the same time she’d feared she was undeserving of such treatment, especially when Myka is concerned. She leans in further, resting her cheek against unruly curls as something inside her shifts, warmth filling veins that have been frozen under bronze. There’s no need to rush, no need for quick satisfaction. For once, she’s able to simply be, Myka’s warmth finally grounding her fully into this new reality.
After some time Myka shifts, gently brushing a kiss against her jaw, then another on her cheek. Up the trail goes, to the sensitive place under her ear. She hums, shifting to face Myka long enough to connect their lips. It’s soft, more comfort than passion and heat, but the kisses that follow are anything but innocent.
It’s perfect.