Work Text:
The small, dimly lit coffee shop wasn’t the kind of place that attracted much attention on the best of days. The simple, grey facade seemed especially at odds with the elaborate, brightly lit decorations that adorned all the buildings nearby. It was as if the owners couldn’t be bothered, resigning themselves to being a stop rather than a destination. Still, it meant that those who did wander in lingered for as long as they could, for the cold atmosphere was nothing compared to the biting air of a London winter.
It felt strangely perfect to the lone woman standing outside, her dark jacket contrasting the light snowfall that dusted the sidewalk around her, but at the same time disappearing under the coffee shop’s cold shadow.
She had decided on tea instead of coffee, a classic earl grey. The warm liquid was protected by a flimsy paper cup with a plastic lid – the sort that the woman thought a poor substitute for the well-crafted china pieces she was both familiar with and used with a great deal of contempt. China was delicate and broke easily. She didn’t work particularly well with delicate anymore.
Night was beginning to fall, and the woman wondered and hoped her friend would make the trip to meet her. The message had been short and simple. Normally she would have chosen something with more flair than a handwritten note, but she had begun to grow weary of the games. What did it even matter? Hopefully by now she was trusted enough that such a display was no longer necessary.
Sure enough, her friend arrived. Her coat was a light grey, her hood pulled up to protect her from the cold and becoming tangled in her brown curls. The woman unconsciously moved some of her own dark locks out of her peripheral vision, simultaneously freeing it to greet her friend.
“Myka.”
“I got your note.”
The woman hesitated, momentarily thrown by Myka’s direct response. She shouldn’t have been. She knew quite well from experience that Myka could be all work and no play. It was the reason she worked so well Pete, who by all accounts looked at the world with just a bit more wonder.
“Did you successfully capture the artifact you were looking for?” The woman leaned against the beam behind her, the windows on either side reflecting friends and lovers walking by, generating a kind of cheer and warmth that seemed to lacking only meters away.
“It wasn’t easy, but we did,” Myka answered, keeping her stance the same. “But you knew that already. What is this really about Helena?”
Helena took a sip of her tea, smiling, “What it’s always about. Do you think there’s any chance..?”
“…That Artie will let you back on the team?” Myka finished, her defenses appearing to weaken. She bit her lip nervously, before continuing. “I don’t think so. If he knew I was even talking to you…”
“I understand. It’ll just take more time then,” Helena finished, forcing herself to remain cool and collected. Inside, her emotions were reaching a boil. How much longer would she have to wait to get inside the Warehouse? Everything depended on the Warehouse. Helena took a large gulp of her tea, silently hissing as the heat scorched her throat.
She wanted this world to pay. This world, that has taken from her everything she ever loved, needed to be reborn. Right?
“I hope you have a Merry Christmas Helena,” Myka added, clearly feeling the meeting was over. In the distance, a church bell began to toll. The solitude was broken as the door to the coffee shop opened and an older man emerged with a young girl who was clearly his daughter. The pair whisked past the women without a second glance. The girl was chatting excitedly, and the man seemed to feign interest though Helena knew it was genuine on some level. The connection a loving parent has to their child is something unmistakable and strong, and could withstand anything – even death.
“He looks like my dad,” Myka laughed quietly to herself, both as a result of the kindness radiating from the pair and her own discomfort.
“Is your dad...?”
“What?” Myka snapped back to attention, “Oh no. He’s fine. I’m not sure if I’m going to see him this year because of work, but this is the first year in a long time where he hasn’t been sick, so it should be a good one regardless.”
Helena blinked, “That must have been hard. Seeing him sick…”
“It was,” Myka conceded, “But I almost didn’t see him at all. We hadn’t spoken for the longest time. But in the end it turned out he was sick because of an artifact-“
“-and you saved him.” Helena finished, letting the weight of that statement sink in before laughing, “Oh my. We seem to be finishing each other’s sentences.”
“So it would seem,” Myka smiled back. She waved a silent goodbye, and Helena struggled to think of something else to say.
But why did she care so much? About this conversation? About Myka? Myka was just a part of this world. A world that would be gone soon… Wouldn’t it?
“Myka!” Helena called out as Myka reached the car parked at the curb. She turned her head over her shoulder, and Helena struggled to complete her thought.
“Merry Christmas to you too!”
Myka smiled and waved before getting into the car. She took off her gloves and rubbed her hands together for warmth, before starting the car and pulling out into the street. In the rear-view mirror, she could still catch a glimpse of the dark haired woman standing outside the coffee shop, drinking her tea alone in the snow, wondering if she had written off this world too soon.