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julieverne · 2 years

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When HG joined the Warehouse, Myka wanted to teach her about the new world she'd woken up in. Show her that life had meaning outside the warehouse. Help her adjust to all the changes in society.

She'd seen HG fumble the laptop, but Claudia had that well in hand, giving HG one of her older machines, leaning over her in the den to show her how to code. Myka shook her head. Such an intelligent woman, what could Myka teach her?

Pete took over pop culture. He and HG pored over old comics together, stayed up late watching movies, starting with black and white and moving through genres. He brought her home nachos and tacos and sushi with all the enthusiasm of a golden retriever.

Jinks took over on the spiritual side. She could see them out on the lawn in the mornings doing some sort of body-mindfulness exercises.

Artie wouldn't have anything to do with her, but he did turn a blind eye when she fixed a number of pressing issues with the older artifacts.

Leena was cautious of her, probably seeing some of that pain and anguish inside her, but she taught HG financial responsibility, helped her claim her inheritance and file her taxes. No one there worked for the IRS, but Leena had once, and she got everyone sizable returns.

What could Myka possibly offer her? HG was happy and healthy, well-fed, rich and entertained. Myka was the one HG had approached and now here she was all alone. She picked up her book and glared at Pete before turning back to the story.

"Do you... I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you happen to have a spare book? Or even a recommendation, it's been so long since I've been involved in literature." HG was sitting next to Myka on the couch, looking longingly at Myka's book for a long moment before dragging her eyes up to Myka's face, the look unchanging and overwhelming.

"I, uh. I have a lot of book?"

"In your room?" HG asked hopefully, and Myka swallowed, unable to answer except in the form of a nod. "Would you mind? I feel so... old-fashioned, but I'd love to reread Frankenstein if you have it." Myka nodded again, getting to her feet, HG following along behind her with a satisfied smile.

#otp: bering and wells #bering & wells #myka bering #bering and wells #helena x myka #helena g wells #helena wells

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birdofdawning · 1 year

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The Door in the Wall

Mother was making jam with Betsy and listening out for the shop bell, and she thought Charles was watching Helena playing in the yard. But Charles had gone upstairs to read Fun, and Freddy and Frank were at school, and so nobody noticed when Helena slipped the latch off the gate and crept out into the back lane — something she knew she was forbidden to do.

She trotted down the track, thinking how funny it was to see the back of everything. Mr Munday’s haberdashery, and the decorator’s shop, and the tobacconist’s were all so formal and tidy from the front — but from the back! Why there was a broken wheel barrow beside a gate, and the remains of what looked like a broken chair waiting beside the dust bins; and over the fence here was the sickly plane tree that the Mowatt children would sit in and shout out at Helena and her brothers as they passed by.

At the end of the lane Helena stopped and considered. Should she turn right and pass the corner shop into the High Street? But memories of a previous encounter with the sullen keeper of ‘Wallace – Decorators’ came to her then, and she decided to turn left.

Down she walked along an empty side street, until she stopped to fill the pockets of her coat with horse chestnuts from an overhanging tree. And when she stood back up she saw, across the way, the green door in the wall.

The sun had come out, and it illuminated a clean white wall so brightly after the previous gloom that Helena had to squint a little. The door was small and bottle green, and a scarlet creeper grew around it. And it wanted her to open it.

Now, Helena was never the sort of child who could not do a thing she knew she oughtn’t. Indeed, she quite made her mother despair at times, and no wonder! If there was an odd piece of glass laying in the street Helena must pick it up and play with the light it threw. And if a music box or a fob watch or any sort of useful device was left unguarded she would have it opened up and in pieces before its careless owner remembered and came back for it. Her mother would always try to intercept and assess for suitability each of the books and periodicals that Helena’s father would bring home; otherwise the girl would have carried it away to her small room in the attic, and her brothers would have to conduct periodic raids in order to capture reading material for themselves.

So when this door called out to her — not aloud, you understand, but as a sort of whisper inside — Helena walked straight across the street and up to it. Unlike most of the buildings around, the door was clean and bright, as if it had been painted only last week. It had a bronze latch with the face of a leopard or lioness on it, and it was just within reach if she stood on her very tip toes. It lifted easily, as if freshly oiled, and the door drifted open without the least push, inviting Helena to step through.

And — Oh! how wonderful! — instead of a grey autumn day it was warm, with a clear dark blue sky filled with the amber light of evening, and a few stars already lit in the heavens. And instead of dusty Bromley with its shops and roads she found herself in a park of great trees, with grass and little paths and a fountain in the distance. She could smell roses, for nearby there were bowers covered in them as if it were spring! And close by she could hear children calling to each other and laughing.

She stepped through, saying “O, lovely!” as she regarded the beautiful garden around her, and behind her the door softly latched itself shut.

For a short time Helena wandered in the direction of the children. The air was so balmy, and, she felt, somehow heavy; so much so that she was tempted to take off her coat. But one thing Mother had managed to teach to her youngest child was to never take off her coat among strangers, for what would people think?

And as the light faded — though she had only had her lunch an hour ago, she was sure — to her delight the trees nearest the path lit up with tiny lights, like fireflies, so that she could still see where she was going.

The path went around a hedge and suddenly opened up into a great meadow, and there she saw the children. They were some distance away running after some sort of device that hovered in the air, moving to and fro like a great bumblebee and humming like one too. And they wore hooded tunics — just like Robin Hood’s Merry Men had in an illustrated periodical she had once read — and heavy britches like a labourer, only dyed blue.

Only as Helena was about to go to the children she heard a whistle and turned to see a very pretty girl standing further along the path. She was dressed all in tattered clothes, like a boy's clothes, so that she looked like she had just stepped down from the Stage. And her hair was cut short like a boy's too, and it was lighted up like a fire as it caught the last rays of the sun. And the girl smiled at Helena and came to meet her, holding out her hand, and saying Well! I think you look like our visitor, here at last! — just as if she’d known Helena had been coming, and was pleased to see her. So they held hands and walked through the wonderful gardens, talking about all sorts of things (though afterwards she couldn’t remember quite what they discussed), until they came to a sort of summer house, like the bandstand in Bromley park.

And standing inside was the most beautiful lady Helena had ever seen. She had hair like burnished copper, and it was down, coiling in waves around her face. And her eyes were large and green, like glass, but so alive and welcoming! And then she gave such a big smile that Helena decided there and then that she would do anything to make this lady happy.

Then the lady stepped out of the summer house to meet them, and she was wearing trousers! But not shapeless trousers that fell like a sack to one’s shoes like Father and Frank and Freddie wore — no, these were shaped and curved so as to show the lady’s long, graceful legs. And, though she knew that such a thing ought to be very wicked, Helena just couldn’t think of this lady as anything but so very good. And right then Helena decided that when she was grown up she would wear trousers too, and she wouldn’t mind what Mother should say.

The lady had been speaking to the pretty girl, and now she turned and smiled again at Helena and said Hallo, and that she thought perhaps she knew Helena’s mother. So Helena said “My mother’s name is Sarah Wells, and my name is Helena Georgina Wells” and the lady was very still for a moment, but then she held out her hand and invited Helena to sit with her in the summer house.

They were quite alone now, and the lady brought out a slate, like one would use for doing sums or accounts, only it was made of glass. And the lady said What sort of animal would you most like to see in all the world? and Helena said “I would like to see a jaguar, please!” and the lady asked the slate to show them a jaguar and there it was! Not drawn in chalk, but a real, actual, moving jaguar creeping though the jungle and down into a river. And after that the lady asked Helena what she’d like to see next, and Helena said “A crocodile!” and there it was in the slate, a crocodile drifting through brown water toward an unsuspecting zebra that was drinking at the river’s edge. And they saw a secretary bird, and a polar bear, and a gorilla — because Charles was so scared of gorillas and Helena wanted to tell him that she’d actually seen one and hadn’t been scared a jot! “But how does it work?” Helena asked, turning the slate over and over and examining it with a frown, and the lady laughed and said that she promised Helena would find out one day.

And now it was quite dark outside, with the only light coming from an old lamp hanging from the ceiling, and from the magical slate. And Helena suddenly thought of Mother wondering where she was, and sending her brothers out to find her. So she decided that she’d better say Thank-you for Having Me and I Had A Lovely Time. Only she wasn't sure how to get back to the green door.

Then the lady said that she needn’t worry. Soon Helena would be back home, because this wonderful garden, and the summerhouse and the lady and everything, only existed while the lamp above them burned; and that it was almost out of oil and when the flame died all would be back as it ought to be. And Helena said “But that sounds like real magic! And I don’t think I believe in real magic. Father says it’s just superstition and humbug.” And the lady smiled again and told her that nevertheless the lamp had a special property, like an enchanted device in a tale of Arthur, and this property was that when you lit this lamp in this gazebo the person you most wanted to meet would come to you for a time. “Oh, but then who lit the lamp?” asked Helena, and the very beautiful lady said that she herself had. And Helena said “But that means that I am the person you most wanted to see!” Then the lady looked sad (though she still smiled) and said Yes, she supposed Helena was the person she most wanted to see. Only now it was time to say goodbye, though perhaps Helena would see her again one day.

Now Helena was the sort of person who tended to hold herself apart from others, so she wasn’t sure why she did what she did next, but before she knew it her arms were around the beautiful lady, and the lady held her tight too until Helena was done. Then from her pocket she took a bag that was like foil-paper, only it was a lovely violet colour instead of silver, and she carefully lifted down the little lamp and said Are you ready to go home Helena? And Helena was about to say “No! I think I would rather stay!” when there was a flurry of sparks like fireworks on bonfire night and a strange whistling in her ears and she felt all dizzy and most unwell for a time.

And when she was aware of herself again she was standing in the Bromley side street, beside the old wall. And I am sad to say that she immediately burst into tears.

Eventually she made her way back up the side-street toward home, feeling bereft and so low. Then who should she see but her Mother trotting out of the lane towards her and looking most displeased! And as she was dragged back home (with her mother saying Gardens!? Ladies?! Jaguars?! My child you your head is being rotted away by those silly papers your Father brings home, I never-in-all-my-life, and so-on), Helena looked back toward the white wall. She saw the scarlet creeper as clear as anything, but would you believe — only no, I do you an injustice, you will have guessed already — the lovely green door had quite disappeared.

Later she told Charles all about the green door and her adventure in the wonderful garden, and he laughed and teased her for more details, jeering like older brothers do, until Helena refused to speak of it again and went to bed very cross that no-one would believe her.

And she decided that one day, when she was a grown-up woman herself, she would find the very beautiful lady again, and they would wear trousers and have adventures together.

And her mind made up, Helena fell fast asleep.

(And here is what Charles made of her story many years later.)

#bering and wells #helena wells #myka bering #Warehouse 13 #helena x myka #A silly thing at 11pm #H G Wells (the real one)#The Door In the Wall (1906)#claudia donovan

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nerrissadevampyre · 1 year

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anyways am currently hyperfixating on warehouse 13 and let me tell you i wanted Helena G. Wells and Myka to date SO HARD but noooo straight people gotta ruin everything 🥲 it's currently my comfort show though but damn the lost opportunity here bugs the hell outta me

Also on a completely irrelevant tone but i should stop spending so much time on twitter bc there are days that i want to say stuff and bloody can't bc of the damn word limit so am gonna spill my heart out here on this blog and those posts 💀

(ps. I fucking hate elon musk)

#warehouse 13 #helena g wells #myka bering #helena x myka #you don't understand what this ship means to me #i love them sooooo much

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haybalemaze · 2 months

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Warehouse 13 2.07 For the Team

#wh13edit #warehouse 13 #myka bering #helena wells #bering and wells #myka x hg #tvedit #jaime murray #joanne kelly #*

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softdeb · 1 year

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and i could be enough / and that would be enough

My contribution to the @b-and-w-holiday-gift-exchange — Bering & Wells + That Would Be Enough for @galactic-pirates.

This is lyrically perfect or them thank you so much for the inspiration, I hope you like it.

#bering and wells #myka x hg #gifs #warehouse 13 #wh13edit #beringandwellsexchange #myka bering #helena wells

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sapphiccharacterstournament · 9 months

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Canon Sapphic Characters Tournament Final Round (Bracket 3)

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be-better-then-yesterday-you · 2 months

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Writing Challange

For?: Anyone, but really I think it would be a pretty interesting study to have “anti-shippers” of the couples in question, to write these scenes.

Prompt: Re-write cannon scenes of popular “completely straight” gay ships that “fans created” and writers/showrunners/actors never encouraged or used as “queerbate”, as heterosexual relationships using the exact same actions and words and emotions as the original scenes.

Why?: I think it would be interesting to see just how many people would still see that particular couple the same way and how many would discover they actually do just have an aversion to gay ships.

I think that alot of people see the word “queerbaiting” and dont fully understand it. They take it like “oh they’re angry coz they didnt get their way, and they just want to make everything gay” … that is so completely not what it is.

Its understandable in a sense that the term queerbaiting isnt fully understood by all because theres no such thing as “straight-baiting” in television and movies. Its the actual complete opposite … when its a male/female relationship, its called a “slow-burn”, inferring that it will eventually become something. Its called “taking advantage of the actors chemistry” and while it is talked about and hinted at as a “will they/ wont they” its never actually in question because the majority of the time, chemistry reads are done between these actors for the specific reason of knowing “will this sell?” But when it comes to queerships, once upon a time they happened by accident. Actors were brought in with a different storyline and then something showed up on screen that wasnt intended and through that they discovered that there was this entire massive subset of fans who were not being acknowledged in life or on television … so they did exactly what they did with their straight relationships. They took advantage. They teased and hinted and wrote things that had they been a “usual” couple, would eventually lead to “endgame”. They encouraged the will they wont they of it all. Took advantage of that chemistry. The only difference? They never intended to give their fanbase that eventual outcome. They straddled the line of keep them invested but never encourage. And now? Now it seems that its become a requirement for shows, to have that one relationship that is strictly-straight friends, “which is so much more special then romantic love sometimes”… but they will still play off of it and benefit from merchandise and views and hashtags and everything that brings in a dollar from fans who are only looking for exactly what they’re calling it … “every kind of love” …. Why cant two women have a healthy faithful relationship? Why cant two men who are best friends, ALSO fall in love with each other? Why cant a character who has only ever identified as “straight” grow and realize that they’re bi or pan or gay? And why cant two people be both best friends and queer but also find love with other people? Why cant a queer man and a straight man have a healthy loving friendship that doesn’t have to end horribly? A big part of it is because of those words! Words that for so long have been used as homophobic slurs and still today in Twenty-freaking-twenty-four are used with hate instead of what they actually ARE which is how people identify how they LOVE . Words that the LGBTQIA+ community have taken back and fight every day to redefine with love and Pride and positivity, but that the “ entertainment industry” still shy away from due to a history of hate-filled, un-informed homophobia. An instilled fear that if they step over that line, then it will all fall apart. That the villagers will come with their torches and pitchforks and storm the castle so to speak. So they stay just this side of “not too far” and spout the company line. “I think its really important that we show every kind of love” but never actually doing that. Because the other company line is “who else can we exploit for a dollar?”. And its not new. The entertainment industry has always used queer people to their advantage. Once upon a time it was for the “hilarity” of a man or woman dressing in drag to get away with some scheme. Or it was about gay bashing and feeding into hate and fear by showcasing what a horrible insult it is to be called gay or how dangerous it is to be out. How sexy it is for two women to be together - but only to turn on the straight male lead. Now its become something along the lines of a joke again, but now the joke is “we know what we’re doing and we’re going to keep doing it because we’re profiting off of it, off of you.”

Queerbaiting isnt us seeing something unintentional or not there. Queerbaiting is this: if the same scene can be rewritten the same way but as female/male, and you can suddenly see it as romantic, its because the relationship is queer coded, to pull in specific fans.

Scripts are not just dialog on a page. While actors are sometimes given leeway, they are given a script telling them how to portray the words on the page. How to move, speak, emote. A director films this, re-sets films again multiple times until what is written comes across on camera the way it was meant to. This is all then edited even further to make things even more impactful and entertaining. It is then viewed and approved and only then shown to these “delusional fans.” This is all done knowing what reaction they will get from it. There are people who actually have the job of encouraging these ships. Of finding more ways to profit off of something that somebody else is in charge of disproving to fans by calling it unintentional. It is an industry, a business, nothing is unintentional. That is queerbaiting.

Challenge: Just change one thing. One characters gender, thats all.

Go ahead and give it a try. Im honestly curious as to the outcome.

Also add some ships that you think apply in the tags!!

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lilolilyr · 7 months

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Myka and Helena spend a lazy morning together. Cuddles, kisses, a good book and hot drinks on the porch swing for @flufftober 2023

read on Ao3

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blackfoxreddog · 2 years

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Dedicated to @beatricethecat2 in celebration of #300 Bering and Wells split screens! Loosely based on Bering and Wells: New Horizons S1Ep8 San Francisco: The 415 Blues - from the adventure series also by @beatricethecat2 ! Thank you for all the fun!

Thanks for the artwork @ ADDAMSGARRY !

#bering and wells #fanart #myka x helena #myka bering #helena g wells

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tryingthisfangirlthing · 2 years

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So, uh. I may or may not be vaguely brainstorming some stuff for a Bering and Wells fanworks thing with a friend, and with the 13th anniversary of the show coming up next year... Would I be stepping on toes? Would anyone be interested in a thing? Would it matter who organized it?

#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #myka bering #helena george wells #helena wells #myka x helena #i'm not sure that's even a used tag on this site but why the hell not #general feedback anyone?#i'm hardly a significant figure in the fandom and i'm sure i'm out of the loop #so uh yeah #y'all could definitely do better than me as an organizer tbh xD #but i'm happy to organize something if there's nothing else in the works

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galactic-pirates · 2 years

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This is your one week reminder :)

September 19th - 25th

Prompts/Days:

Day 1 (Monday 19th): Dancing Day 2 (Tuesday 20th): General Family Vibes Day 3 (Wednesday 21st): Culture / Holidays / Anniversaries / Special Occasions Day 4 (Thursday 22nd): All the AU’s! (e.g. Road Trip, Fake dating, or anything you want) Day 5 (Friday 23rd): Apples / Warehouse Shenanigans Day 6 (Saturday 24th): Myka and/or HG as parents/in a parental role Day 7 (Sunday 25th): Free Choice

Some notes (and if you have more questions feel free to ask):

You can contribute anyway you please: gifs, edits, fanart, fics, videos, fanmixes, metas, other fan things I’ve forgotten to mention etc.

You can just contribute once and not do the other days, you can do multiple things in a day and everywhere in between. You don’t have to post it on the exact day, if you are late we’ll still love it so please still share. You also don’t have to make anything at all and just reblog and enjoy. Whatever is cool, just have fun :)

I hope that the prompts are broad enough to inspire and will also work for a variety of media. You can merge the prompts together or use them in any direction you choose (so unrelated to whatever the other prompt is). It’s whatever inspires you. I want this to be as inclusive as possible, so if people want to take part they can.

Tag your work with #beringandwellsappreciationweek as well as the usual tags so we can all find it and enjoy it.

Please reblog this post to signal boost.

#bering and wells #bering & wells #Warehouse 13 #beringandwellsappreciationweek #W13 #WH13 #joanne kelly #Jaime Murray #Myka Bering #hg wells #helena wells #helena x myka #angst and pain #otp: I believed in you and I was right

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julieverne · 2 years

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To be comforted

Myka isn't much for physical affection. But when Claudia is gravely injured, people pat her shoulder as she waits by the empty hospital bed as the hospital runs tests.

HG is barely slowing from a sprint as she bursts into the room, and Myka is already on her feet, HG's momentum pushing her back into the room as she barrels into her, Myka's hands already grasping HG as she finally lets the sobs in her chest roll out of her.

And HG, who has lost so much already - her daughter, her family, her fame, her century - holds Myka, her hands soft, her knees steady as Myka leans against her.

'I have every confidence that Claudia will be fine,' HG says, pulling away a little, her thumb brushing the tears from Myka's cheeks. Myka nods wordlessly and pulls HG close again for her own sake this time. It's been years, and while Myka's not much for physical affection, she's always made an exception for HG.

#warehouse 13 #bering & wells #otp: bering and wells #myka bering #helena x myka #helena g wells

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birdofdawning · 2 years

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Airport

Day 6 (Parenting) - Appreciation Week

(This is set now, many years after our heroes have retired into civilian life.)

“Dad says that you used to have a little girl,” said The Child. “But she died,” it added, conversationally.

“I did. She did,” said Helena.

“He said that you might get sad, and then I have to Give You Space and Listen To Aunty Mykes,” went on The Child, then pointed — “That girl has a backpack like my backpack!”

“So she does,” confirmed Helena, “With a princess on it. I expect her monstrously large eyes are due to some enchantment. She probably said the wrong thing to a very wicked woman.”

“It’s Rapunzel,” explained The Child. “If you get sad you can just go for one of your walks. Like when you come and stay with us.”

“Well then. Perhaps I shall.”

The Child eyed her shrewdly for a moment. “You’re not really mad. You’re just pretending,” it decided.

Helena looked back toward the food court for Myka.

“What was your little girl’s name?” asked The Child, inevitably.

“Christina,” said Helena, facing forward again and fixing her eyes on a taxiing aeroplane.

“How old was she? Was she as old as me?”

“She wasn’t as old as you, no. Not quite”

“What color was her hair? And what did she like to do?”

“Her hair was black, like mine.”

It considered her hair. “You have white in your hair now.”

“I Do.”

“Yes. But lots more black,” it said reassuringly. “it’s mostly black. Aunty Mykes’ hair,” it confided, “goes orange sometimes. In the sun.”

“Aunty Mykes has been dying her hair since she was thirty,” said Helena maliciously.

But The Child had decided the topic of hair had been exhausted. “What did Christina like to do?”

“She liked to do all sorts of things.”

The Child rolled its eyes, “What sorts of things?”

“Well.” Helena thought. “She would come on my walks with me.”

“Really? That’s what she liked?”

“Not always,” admitted Helena. “Sometimes, though.”

“I don’t like to go for walks. Mom makes us. But the baby won’t be able to go for walks will he?”

“He’ll probably sit in a pram. And your mother will push it. Or your father.”

“Sometimes Dad carries me home. But he says I’m getting too big now, even for him.” The Child had twisted right around in its chair and was staring back at the tiny shopping centre. “Can I get a magazine to read?”

“You already have a magazine.”

“I’ve looked at it. Well, most of it. Did Christina read magazines?”

“She did. She was a good reader, like you. She had a subscription to a children’s magazine. And at Christmas she would get annuals and try and save them up. But they’d all be read by the end of January.”

This puzzled The Child. “Annuals like… like in gardening?” it guessed unexpectedly.

“No, they were like bigger versions of the magazines with lots more pages, and hard-covered like a book,” Helena paused. “I have no idea if they still exist. If they do I will buy you one. Possibly”

“Oh.” This seemed to interest The Child and it had a think. Helena looked around for Myka again.

“Did Christina live in Britain with you? In London?”

“Sometimes. We lived in Kent for a long time. And in France.”

“I’ve been to London. We went to the zoo. Look, that baby is trying to eat off the floor.”

Helena obediently looked.

“It’ll get germs,” observed The Child with a superior air.

“Good,” said Helena ruthlessly, “A few germs will probably do it a world of good. You people these days live such sterile—”

“YAHTZEE!” shouted The Child, and laughed. “Dad says we have to shout Yahtzee whenever you say ‘You people these days’ now,” it explained. “He says it’s not rude, we’re helping you.”

“Does he,” said Helena.

“Yes. What else did Christina do? What did she do when she went on holiday?”

Helena thought. “We went to Scotland one summer. Well, I say ‘summer’… Apparently no-one had thought to inform Scotland of the fact. I think it rained every day. We made paper dolls.”

“You can still go swimming in the rain,” The Child informed her gravely. “Well, not if you’re a baby. Did you look for the Loch Ness Monster?”

“We had never heard of the Loch Ness Monster,” said Helena.

This was beyond comprehension. “WHAT?!” spluttered The Child, “HOW CAN YOU HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THE LOCH NESS MONSTER.”

“I think your father was the first person to tell me about the Loch Ness Monster,” remembered Helena. “He was appalled as well. And bigfoot, and… mothman?… I don’t remember the others.”

“YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW BIGFOOT?”

“No. I’d heard of the Yeti,” offered Helena. “I had travelled through Thibet, and—”

“The yeti is okay,” said The Child kindly, “Those people have balloons.”

“I think they’re meeting someone.” Helena squinted (perhaps more than she had once needed to?). “They’re meeting ‘Michelle’. They have a sign.”

“It would be funny if someone met us in San Francisco with a sign! And we didn’t know them! And we were the wrong people! But it was still all of our names.”

“So they took us home, and chatted happily about Great Aunt Agnes and Cousin Wendel and an entire pantheon of beloved relatives we didn’t know,” continued Helena, “And when we tried to tell them we were the wrong people they all laughed and said ‘What wonderful jokers Charlie and H.G. and Myka are! (well, perhaps not Myka) The wrong people indeed!’ and they slapped their thighs with mirth, and then went back to discussing Second-Cousin Clarabelle’s operation and What Went Wrong.”

The Child giggled. “What happens to their Charlie and H.G. and Mykes?”

“W—ell,” thought Helena, “I expect that once they realise they aren’t being collected at the airport they run away, intoxicated with the thought of freedom and of never hearing about Second-Cousin Clarabelle’s operation; and become lighthouse keepers. And keep goats. And meanwhile you have to share a bedroom with Great-Aunt Agnes. Who snores.”

The Child thought this over. “Aunty Mykes wouldn’t let any of that happen,” it announced, firmly.

“No, she wouldn’t,” agreed Helena, “but nevertheless, we love her.”

“Okay,” said Myka, appearing balancing several paper bags and a tray of drinks, and making Helena jump, “I got a white-chocolate raspberry muffin for Charlie, a chocolate muffin for H.G, and a bran muffin for Aunty Mykes who cares about nutrition. And hot chocolates.”

“Thank-you-Aunty-Mykes,” recited The Child, reaching for its muffin. “Did Christina like muffins?”

“Uh,” said Myka.

“She did. But not ones like these.”

“Right, we’re doing this apparently, good, okay,” said Myka, and sat down.

Helena examined her chocolate muffin critically. “These are like little cakes. They’re quite tasty. But real muffins are flat and unsweetened and made of thick bread. And we would toast them on a griddle. Or buy them in the street. And Christina would have hers with lots of butter. And honey. Or jam, if we had jam.”

“Could we make some when we get to your house?”

“I suppose we could,” said Helena doubtfully. “Yes, we will,” she decided. “And we’ll have pikelets another day. With jam, because we have jam.”

“And go to the science center. Aunty Mykes said you’d come too,” reminded The Child.

“Possibly we shouldn’t combine the two activities. We’d get the apparatuses all sticky. However, I’m sure your aunt already has the week’s activities planned out for us. And printed neatly on a sheet of A4 paper.”

“I do,” said Myka evenly. “To both statements. I’m going to put it on the fridge, Charlie, so you can see what we’re doing each day.”

“Sometimes you make me feel exhausted, did you know that?” said Helena.

“I make the woman who works thirty-six hour days when ‘the muse has struck darling’ exhausted?”

“Sometimes it will just be you and me though, right Aunty Mykes? When H.G. has to work,” interrupted The Child.

Myka made an affirming noise. “But we’ll drag her out anyway, when we can, and she can follow us around with her hands in her pockets and make Comments.”

“I should enjoy that,” said Helena.

They ate their muffins and watched people.

“That boy has a Charizard,” pointed out Myka, and The Child looked with interest.

“My favourite is Relicanth. And Marshadow. Aunty Mykes’ favourite," it informed Helena with weighty disapproval, "is Magikarp.”

“Magikarp is the best Pokémon,” said Myka cheerfully. “If it works hard it becomes a giant sea serpent.”

“That must be of great comfort to it,” said Helena.

“It turns into Gyarados. The baby won’t have a favourite Pokémon yet,” reflected The Child, “Maybe not for years.”

“We can go through your book when we get home,” suggested Myka. “Make a list of possibilities. And then a short list of the best ones.” She caught and held Helena’s eye. “And we can add pictures," she went on in a slightly defiant tone, "And then we will print it out. Neatly. And your dad can put it up by the baby’s crib, so he has a head start on his Pokémon.”

Helena opened her mouth to say that she feared it was Now All Too Late for The Child’s father to have any sort of real head start in anything and it was cruel to encourage him, but The Child was already saying that it had finished its little-tasty-cake, and could it have its hot chocolate.

Myka passed it over. “Hot!” she warned, then sat back and sipped her own drink. She reached out behind The Child with her left hand, absently brushing it down Helena’s shoulder until it rested on the back of her chair. Helena quietly exhaled and lent back into her. “When we finish we’d better go over to Departures so we can get on our plane,” Myka said as they watched another aeroplane descend.

As they picked up their bags and deposited their rubbish A Second Child, perhaps only five or six, appeared and regarded The Child silently. “Hello,” said The Child.

“I go to school,” revealed The Second Child after a moment of indecision.

“Oh. That’s good. So do I. I’m on holiday now though,” said The Child, and then apparently thinking that more ought to be said, “I’m Charlie. I’m going to San Francisco with my Aunty Mykes and H.G.”

It reached out and held Helena’s hand demonstratively.

As they walked down the corridor towards their flight The Child squeezed Helena’s hand.

“You really will come out with Aunty Mykes and me sometimes, though, right? When you’re not working?” it asked Helena.

Helena gave their joined hands a tentative swing.

“I might,” she said. “Let’s see how I go.”

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18 notes · View notes