Chapter Text
Out of all the current Warehouse agents, it was a no brainer to send Pete and Myka after the artefact that was supposed to make it snow.
The artefact itself had never been verified, but it had been on Artie's most wanted list for a quite a while, and even though it was supposed to be a relatively easy retrieval that probably didn't need the most experienced team, picking the two that had grown up in snow and ice and could probably run and drive on any surface just made sense.
Theoretically, of course.
Theoretically, because as they were leaving the B&B, Pete slipped on the ice on the front steps and twisted his knee enough that he wasn't going to be going anywhere, or walking on anything.
But it was November 16th and the auction was on the 17th and if she wanted to make sure that she was in Toronto for the auction on time Myka had to leave right. then.
Claudia was with the Regents and Steve was on a retrieval with their newest recruit and Artie was on vacation with Vanessa, so even though it was strict Warehouse policy to not go alone, this was just an auction, so what could go wrong? Right?
***
"So, you got the plan?" Pete asked, his voice tinny over the Blackberry.
"The plan hasn't changed, Pete," Myka sighed, and found her way into the auction hall. "The vault where the sheet music was being held was too hard to break into, so I just bid on it. If I get outbid past what I'm cleared for, I figure out who won the auction, and we'll replace it at a later date."
"Good." It was quiet on the phone for a moment before Pete spoke again. "Hey Myka, don't get mad at me okay?"
Her mouth tightened. "Peeeeete," she said slowly. "Why would I get mad?"
His timing couldn't be better, because just as her eyes were scanning for a seat in the back where she could watch everything that was happening at the auction, she saw what Pete was talking about. Who Pete was talking about. Because there, turned fully around in her seat to catch her attention, was Helena.
Myka stood in stunned silence for a minute until she realized that Pete was talking on the other end of the line. "... hate you being in the field alone, that's why we have partners and she's all there was left and would you just try to work with her? I know there's baggage and you avoid her but please Myka?"
She huffed. "Goodbye Pete," she said as she ended the call, but she softened. He was just looking out for her; she couldn't blame him for that. And even as perceptive as he was, she knew that she kept her feelings about Helena close to the chest. She knew he didn't know the whole story.
Even if there wasn't much of a story. Sure, he knew about the friendship, the betrayal, the hologram prison, and Emily Lake. He had lived all those with her. He intellectually knew what happened. But he didn't know the deep pain she felt when Helena had chose a life in Wisconsin instead of the Warehouse, of the dreams of the fire consuming the Warehouse with Helena still in it, the stolen hours with the hologram where they talked, actually talked and started to mend all the things that had gone wrong before, and that one, perfect night they had shared before everything went to hell in Egypt...
But Myka could handle a few hours alone with her.
Myka slid into the adjacent vacant seat with as a professional demeanour as she could muster. "HG," she said with a nod, and was surprised she could see the slight falter in Helena's smile.
"Myka, it's lovely to see you," she said softly, and Myka almost lost her composure, but she managed to keep her professional facade. "So," Helena started again. "I only got a brief phone call from Pete and the plane ticket. What are we after?"
Myka finally smiled. This she could do. "We're looking for the original sheet music to Irving Berlin's White Christmas. Written in 1942, sung by Bing Crosby, and one of the most loved Christmas songs there is."
Helena hummed softly. "I know that one," she said quietly. "It always struck me as sort of sad, like he was trying recapture something about himself that was lost to the past."
Myka closed her eyes briefly, trying to find her composure once more. Of course Helena had to say something that tragic, that meaningful, that... honest. For so long a glimpse into her mind, into her feelings, was all she ever wanted, but now Myka spent most of her energy trying to block that out.
It was exhausting.
She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. "Anyway, Artie believes that if a person is touching the sheet music as they sing along to the original Bing Crosby recording, then they'll summon... snow. We've never gotten to it before because whenever it gets activated, there's usually such a big storm that no can travel to the location where it is, and we can't pinpoint it once it stops snowing."
"Then we better win this auction then."
That was easier said than done.
***
They were outbid. They were outbid by a lot. They were outbid and the only thing they know for sure about the bidder was that he got the paperwork settled very quickly, and told the auction house to call the Peace Bridge border crossing to expedite his return to the US.
And that's how Helena and Myka ended up in Buffalo on November 18th.
***
His car was easy to follow and Myka's rented SUV easily made the trip. The two people inside the SUV had a bit of a harder time.
Myka was driving and Helena had the file open on her lap, and both were trying very hard to only stick to safe topics. Or, at least, Myka was, and every time that Helena inquired about something personal, Myka steered them back to the case.
She could feel herself breaking inside, just as she could every time she was around Helena. Because Helena looked good. She looked happy. She looked rested and content and everything about her suggested that she was doing well outside the Warehouse, that she had found a place to call home and thrive and all of that was in a place that didn't include Myka. And Myka was happy at the Warehouse, it's where she called home and thrived and was content, but wasn't happy, because happy meant that all parts of her life were fulfilled and she could never have that when Helena was somewhere else.
So she focused on the case.
"As far as we know, the artefact has been used six times: Chicago in 1967, Ontario and Quebec in 1971, the Buffalo Blizzard in 1977, and all over New England in 1978." She recited, even though Helena was looking at the file directly. "We lost track of it for a while but we think it caused the huge storm over the entire East Coast in 1993, and then it lied dormant for thirteen years until the snowfall in New York in 2006."
Helena was quiet, and Myka found herself glancing over at the other woman, engrossed in the papers. The sunlight was hitting her hair in a way that made it glimmer, and Myka was brought back to the single time she touched it, ran her fingers through it, let her fingernails scrape at Helena's scalp and heard the moan she made when Myka bit at her lip...
And she had to stop that line of thinking. "They were all really big storms, though some were obviously worse than others. They estimate that the one in '93 affected half of the US population, and New York wasn't technically a blizzard because the winds weren't strong enough. The one in New England in '78 was so bad because it struck in the afternoon and everyone was stranded at work, but the one in Montreal is my favourite because it cancelled a Habs game. A hockey game," she laughed suddenly, surprised by its loudness in the car. "In -- in Montreal," she said again, but this time with a little less conviction.
"We don't have to do this," Helena said softly, and Myka glanced at her again, but Helena didn't look up from her lap. Still, one of Helena's hands was clenched and the other seemed to be digging her fingernails into her thigh (and that brought up another image that Myka didn't want to think about, nope) and Myka sighed.
"Let's just get through this case, okay?"
Helena nodded, and the rest of the drive was silent except for pointing out where their quarry had gone.
***
It was actually surprisingly easy to get their hands on the sheet music.
The idiot that bought the real sheet music left it on his passenger seat as he went to pick up a bottle of wine. In Myka and Pete's prep, that had managed to get a forgery that would be able to take the place of the real music. It was really quite easy to break into his car and replace the sheets before he came back out, and the sparks that it emitted when going into the static bag confirmed that they had been correct that it was the artefact they were after.
Except that the sparks that flew from the static bag were bright and violent, far more than what they would expect from a dormant artefact.
Helena and Myka looked at each other in a sort of horror, hidden on the other side of the SUV from where the buyer was returning to his car, and when it started they could distinctly hear the crooner over his stereo and could see his mouth moving to the words.
As if on cue, they both looked to the sky and it was no surprise to see the storm clouds rolling in above them, coming in far faster than any normal weather system. "I'll call the airline," Myka said immediately, pulling her Blackberry from her belt with precision at the same time that Helena was reaching for her purse inside the SUV. "You start looking for a hotel, because I don't think we'll make it back over the bridge."
***
Apparently, the storm clouds had been coming in for longer than they had noticed, and every other traveller in the area had the same idea. Hotels were filling up at an astronomical rate. Gas stations were busier than they've been in years, and even supermarkets seemed to be a hotspot as people prepared for the worst. And Helena and Myka, with no chance of getting on any flights for the next 24 hours, found one of the last hotel rooms in the area.
And it only had one bed.
***