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Some days, being Miss Donovan isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. When her agents are in danger and her home is on the brink of destruction again, it’s hard to stand back and be the caretaker. She wants to be out there saving the world. Then she remembers all of the agents and caretakers that she’s proud to have known (and some that she isn’t) and she clenches her jaw and sits back. The Warehouse will make it through, just as it always has.
Some days, being Miss Donovan is terrifying. She gets the hang of it, eventually, but her fist set of all new agents goes down as the scariest thing that Claudia’s ever done. There is no Mrs. Frederic, who is long gone by then. There is no Artie for advice – he’s been sick and she doesn’t want to bother him with being nervous, especially not since she’s been caretaker for almost thirteen years at that point. The significance of the number is not lost on her. There’s no Pete and Myka for a joke or a steady hand on her shoulder – they’re in Denver that week with their family, burying Myka’s father. Claudia still calls her later that night, and the two of them talk and cry for hours. There is no Steve – who has finally retired and even though she knows he would come, she doesn’t call because she needs to be brave. She knows that sooner rather than later, they’ll all be gone.
Some days, being Miss Donovan is hilarious. She’s learned more than a few tricks over the years and always gets a sick sense of joy sneaking up on her agents just for funsies. She knows she can, there’s no question in that. Sometimes she does it purely because she knows it’s annoying, but a large part of her needs to be reminded of another woman who showed her all the mysteries of the Warehouse.
Some days, being Miss Donovan is lonely. When she misses the birth of Pete and Myka’s first child because there’s an emergency, when she has to watch Steve slowly retire from field work because his knee gives out, or when she has to eventually say good-bye to Artie it’s hard to remember why she made this choice. Then there is a ping and two more ferrets for her new agents and this is her role now – she needs to help the rag tag, lonely people find their way just the same as she found hers.
Some days, being Miss Donovan is perfect. It is quiet, some days, when there’s inventory or her agents are out and about. It’s on days like those that she digs out her old sneakers and takes the zip line to the farthest end of the Warehouse and wanders. She looks at the artifacts. Some hold memories, others are still mysteries. Those days, if she’s quiet, she can here Artie lecturing her, or Steve chasing Trailer down the aisles. Sometimes she can hear Myka calling or Pete’s laughter. She can hear Leena’s gentle coaching, or Helena’s recanting thrilling heroics or Mrs. Frederic’s quiet guidance. She wanders to the Dark Vault, the Bronze Sector, past the Escher Vault. Her perfect days are often her hardest. No matter where she finds herself on those quiet days there is a quiet calm and the comforting, familiar smell of apples.