The Thought That Counts (802 words) by @itsophelia
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Myka Bering/Helena "H. G." Wells
Additional Tags: Christmas
Summary:
Helena discovers Myka haphazardly wrapping Christmas presents, and tries to make things easier for her. One shot.
Please tell us why you like this fic so much!
Hahaha! and Aww Helena! She is still catching up with those 100 years and it's adorable
---
Remember that you can submit fics to be featured here, too! Here's the link to the submission form (Google Form)!
“Oh my god. Hi. I love you...I promise I’m not a crazy person...I’m supposed to be on the tour and got lost...” Ophelia tried to explain, holding up her visitors pass to the bewildered looking person. “I’m meant to be in Monroe right now but this doesn’t look like it - I don’t expect you to walk me, could you just give me directions? Please?”
For @itsophelia from your Bering and Wells secret santa. Happy Christmas.
//
Myka woke up early. The B&B was still and warm, full with the kind of quiet she’d come to associate with a heavy snowfall. Yawning, she slipped out of bed and padded to the window, drawing the heavy curtain back. Snow piled soft and thick on the window ledge, falling steadily from the grey sky overhead. She stood watching it fall for a moment, before turning back to the bed. Helena’s side was empty, sheets barely rumpled as if she’d left not long after Myka had fallen asleep. There was a note on her pillow.
Myka,
There was a disturbance in the garden. I suspect an artefact, I’ve gone to neutralise it. I’ll be back soon.
Love, Helena
Myka frowned. Returning to the window she leaned her forehead against the glass, narrowing her eyes against the flutter of grey snowflakes. She couldn’t make out the fence at the bottom of the garden, the border of trees behind it. Closer, a thin blanket of snow covered the lawn, almost undisturbed. Helena was nowhere to be seen. She was probably in the kitchen, Myka decided, treating herself to a cup of tea after neutralising the third Christmas-related artefact to surface that week. Changing quickly, she tugged on her boots and hurried downstairs.
Leena was in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She looked up as Myka walked in, and smiled. "Happy Christmas, Myka. You're up early."
"Merry Christmas. Have you seen Helena?"
Leena frowned. "Not since last night. Why?"
"She wasn't in bed when I woke up." Myka handed Leena the note, and headed for the back door. Her coat was hanging next to Pete's by the door, and she slipped into it, pulling her gloves out of the pockets. She noted Helena's coat was missing.
“If she came back I didn’t see her,” Leena said. “You’re going after her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need backup? It could be dangerous.”
Myka smiled. “If I’m not back in time for dinner drag Pete away from the turkey and send him after me.”
She let herself out the back door. The snow was deeper than she'd expected, rising above her ankles. She crunched slowly up the garden, grimacing as snow trickled and melted into her boots. Soft, fat snowflakes drifted steadily from the sky. The world sounded muffled and close around her. She wandered through the garden, narrowing her eyes when she spotted something a few paces ahead of her. Dug into the snow in front of her was a footprint. It was deep, and wide, the edges blurred from the morning snowfall but still visible. And it was huge.
Myka crouched down next to it. She pressed her palm flat in the center of the print, spreading her fingers wide. They didn't even touch the sides. Getting to her feet, Myka looked around until her eyes settled on another footprint, further away. It took her three slow, deliberate strides to reach it. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. Where was Helena?
The snow began to fall quicker, settling in her hair and on her eyelashes. She followed the trail of unusual footprints, getting further and further away from the B&B until she saw something looming up ahead. Myka looked back over her shoulder. The B&B was just a shadow in the thick, swirling snowfall. She turned back towards the cave.
//
Helena snuggled further into her coat grumpily. Across the ice cave, she could see the shadow of the great, furry lump she'd spotted sniffing around the back porch of the B&B at dawn. It sprawled comfortably in front of the cave mouth, snoring gently. It would almost have been cute but for the great, yellowed teeth poking out of its maw, which gaped open in Helena's general direction.
Grimacing, Helena blew on her cupped hands to keep them warm. Her breath came out foggy, settling on the cold air of the cave like smoke on a still November morning. She craned her neck back, peering up at the rocky ceiling. Nothing. The cave was small, she’d already crawled into each separate corner searching for an exit, to no avail. If there was another way out, she hadn’t found it, although not for lack of trying.
She’d tried searching for the artefact the moment she’d realised she was trapped in the cave, but it was proving more difficult than she’d expected. The cave was littered with rubbish. It looked like a child had emptied their dress-up box all over the floor, tossing odd bits and pieces of costumes, like hats and coats and mismatched gloves all over like streamers. Nestled amongst the clothes lay props. There were magic wands and plastic swords, old film canisters and broken microphones. Anything and everything that could be an artefact.
Helena sighed. She’d had no idea where to start. She supposed she’d just have to wait for someone in the B&B to realise the abominable snowman was camping out at the bottom of the garden in a bona fide pop-up ice cave, and come and get her.
Helena began to wonder if there was anything under the mess closer to the creature. After a moment of debate, she started to inch closer, carefully. She’d rather not face those fangs armed only with a pair of purple gloves and a bag, but the creature seemed to be a very heavy sleeper.
She crept closer. At the cave entrance the creature grunted. Helena held her breath, waiting for it to wake up, but after a moment it started snoring again. She rolled her eyes. “I wish I could sleep like that,” she grumbled. She started when another shadow appeared silhouetted against the grey morning sunlight filtering into the cave.
“Helena,” the shadow hissed.
“Myka?”
“Oh thank god, you’re here.”
“Trust me darling, if you were in here with me you wouldn’t be saying that.”
Myka held a finger to her lips, pointing to the beast between them. Helena waved her concern away. “He sleeps even heavier than Peter,” she said.
“I found your note.” Myka said. “I assume this is the ‘disturbance’?”
“It looked smaller from the window,” Helena huffed.
Myka rolled her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Helena hid a smile at the way she tried to mask the note of worry in her voice.
“I’m fine, just a bit stuck.”
“Christmas artefacts,” Myka grumbled. “They’re like the traffic jams of the holidays, always trying to keep people from their loved ones.”
“I’ll be out in a jiffy, Myka,” Helena promised, offering her wife a soft, comforting smile. “I just have to find the blasted artefact and we’ll be sipping mulled wine in front of the fire before you know it.”
“Any idea what it could be?”
Helena gestured at the messy floor. “I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”
Myka stood on her tiptoes to peer over the bulk of the sleeping creature. She frowned thoughtfully. “What does a bunch of old clothes have to do with an abominable snowman?” she mused.
Helena shrugged. “I’d google it but I have no phone signal in here.”
Myka pulled her Farnsworth out of her pocket. Claudia answered with a muffled groan. “Wa’ time’zzit?”
“Early. What can you find out about the abominable snowman?”
There was a long pause. “Can you be more specific? I’m getting a lot of results.”
Myka squinted into the cave again. “I’m seeing a lot of old clothes, props.
Helena, can you hold that up? Right, a 35mm film canister. Try film and television references.”
Claudia typed quickly. “Wow, that’s a lot. Umm, most notable… Doctor Who, 1968. Part of a series of missing episodes, robot yetis, scarier monsters etcetera. The usual.”
“Thanks Claudia.”
“Where are you, anyway? Is there a yeti in the Warehouse?”
Myka turned the Farnsworth so Claudia could see the sleeping snowman in the cave mouth. “At the bottom of the garden,” she said.
Helena waited for her to hang up. “I’m going to try the film canisters,” she said quietly. She started picking them up one by one, dipping them into the neutraliser bag in her hand. Myka waited outside the cave, one eye constantly on the sleeping yeti. It was truly enormous, covered in shaggy white hair wet with melted snow. One of his paws was bigger than Myka’s head, tipped with savage black claws. His yellow teeth were no less sharp, and though she knew it wasn’t a rational one, Myka couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of Helena trapped alone in the cave with it. Call her sentimental, but she’d rather the woman she loved spend Christmas with her, not at the bottom of some mythical beast’s belly.
At least it was asleep.
Helena waved something at Myka from the back of the cave. “Darling, I think I-“
Myka’s Farnworth started buzzing. Loudly. With a startled grunt, the snowman’s eyes snapped open. It rolled lithely to its feet, little red eyes searching cruelly for the noise. Helena gasped and dropped the canister with a rattle. The beast jerked its head towards her. Its paws clenched into fists, and it rose up on its hind legs, higher and higher, filling the cave mouth until all Myka could see was it’s muscled, hairy back.
“Helena!” she yelled.
“Distract it!” came Helena’s muffled cry.
Myka’s hand went to her Tesla, but she stopped herself when she realised that would probably only make it angry. She dropped to her knees and dug in the snow for a stone. She found one, almost frozen to the solid ground and clawed at it as the beast advanced on Helena. Suddenly face to face with a very awake and very angry looking yeti, Helena backed away. Her back bumped against the cold wall of the cave, not even close to being out of arms reach of the yeti.
“Come one, Myka,” she breathed.
Myka pried the stone loose, hefting it in her hand before sending it whizzing towards the back of the beast’s head. With a thwack, it bounced off its back. The yeti swivelled its head slowly in Myka’s direction. It grunted, ducking out of the cave mouth and advancing on her, claws clicking as it clenched and unclenched its fists. Myka began backing away.
“Helena?”
“Yes darling?”
“Did you find the artefact?”
“I did. Thank you for distracting the yeti.”
Myka shrugged, although Helena couldn’t see it. “It was the least I could do to stop my wife being eaten by the abominable snowman. Do you think you could maybe…”
“Of course,” Helena said smoothly. She dropped the canister in the bag with a flash of sparks, shielding her eyes with her arm. When she looked up, the cave had disappeared. The yeti had disappeared. And Myka had disappeared.
“Myka?” Helena said, worriedly.
A snowball whizzed out of nowhere and hit her on the back of the head. Outraged, Helena whirled around to see Myka, snow in her hair and on her gloves, cheeks flushed and split with a wide grin. Helena broke out her own smile. She held out her hands, pulling Myka to her and kissing her cold lips through a happy laugh.
“We did it,” she murmured.
“Pete and Steve are definitely taking the next Christmas artefact,” Myka said. She took Helena’s hand and they trudged through the snow to the B&B.
“You know,” Helena said, “I’m not even sure that missing episode even had anything to do with Christmas.”
Myka huffed. “We just had the misfortune of having to deal with it on Christmas.”
Helena nodded. She held the door open for Myka and they bundled into the warm kitchen to find Pete, Claudia, and Steve wrapped up in winter coats and toting Tesla’s. Helena groaned. “Don’t tell me there’s another bloody artefact.”
Pete rushed over to Myka. “I’m so sorry, we saw everything from the kitchen window. Claudia said there was a yeti. A yeti, Mykes!” He saw Myka’s expression, and grimaced. “I called you because I wanted to see it. I didn’t think it’d try to eat you.”
“Oh,” Helena said. “So that’s why your Farnsworth woke it up.”
Myka patted Pete’s arm. “Don’t worry, we didn’t quite make it to yeti Christmas lunch.”
They all burst into laughter, bundling into the warm living room in a chorus of Merry Christmas-es. “May today be without any more bloody artefacts showing up,” Helena said. She slumped down onto the couch next to Myka, curling into her wife’s shoulder. Myka pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“Next time you see something weird from our bedroom window, tell me,” Myka murmured.
“Even if it’s the easiest artefact in the world to bag?”
“Is that what you thought this morning?”
Helena swatted at her, playfully. "It’s not my fault! Of all the strange and wonderful things I’ve seen in my lifetime, I never expected a yeti at the bottom of our garden!"
Myka grinned, and kissed her. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“As am I,” Helena said, sincerely. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
