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“I was trapped in a mirror once.”
It’s an offering.
Audible in the carefully chosen words and even in the breath Myka took before uttering a sound at all and it makes you look away from the newspaper in your hands. Carefully folding the paper, first in half then in half again, deep creases bending the seemingly endless stories of death and destruction before placing it beside your tea cup and eyeing the woman across from you cautiously.
“Lewis Carroll’s mirror actually.” The sun is pouring through the windows in thick, golden streaks and you squint against the rays, watching Myka pick at the muffin in front of her, a telltale sign of her discomfort and nerves. “Alice Liddell, you know, Alice in Wonderland? She actually took my place and tried to kill Pete in Las Vegas.”
She’s rambling, all run on sentences and stuttering pauses as her hands fidget and while you’ve always detested poor grammar, you know that Myka’s propensity to speak in long uninterrupted strings of words isn’t because she doesn’t understand the value of a correctly placed punctuation but because her mind, her magnificently intriguing mind, seems to be constantly whirring away. Far too busy to waste time on punctuation.
“It wasn’t for, like, years or anything-obviously. Just a day but it still-it still…sucked.” Myka trails off into nothing, eyes lifting to meet yours for the first time since she began her long winded anecdote.
It’s an olive branch, a peace offering, gnarled and awkward but endlessly endearing in that way that Myka seems to have about her and your insides twist a bit at the gesture.
As difficult as it is to admit, its been a bit difficult dealing with Artie’s dark glare over the top of his tiny glasses, the protective square of Pete’s shoulders every single time you enter the room, Claudia’s slight cowering nearly every time you lay eyes on her, Leena’s knowing gaze just about every time she sees you ,ever since you arrived here despite your best attempts to illustrate you have no ulterior motives.
Despite your best attempts to have no ulterior motives.
You’ve spent years and years and years alone, imprisoned in bronze and trapped in your own mind but even in the light of day and life, there’s still an unbearable loneliness dragging behind you, keeping you nearly as stagnate as metal once did.
Even still, you know that loneliness isn’t the sole reason you’ll take what Myka is offering with an eagerness you can barely conceal because as difficult as its been, you can manage the loneliness, you have experience with it. You cannot, however, ignore the opportunity to gain trust or seem to manage the way you feel when Myka looks at you with shining eyes and a wide mouthed grin.
“Take it from someone imprisoned for a quite a while, being trapped anywhere, be it a single day or one hundred years…sucks.”
Myka smiles at you, that slow and wide, as if she doesn’t want you to see which seems ludicrous since you’re finding it impossible to look anywhere but her at the moment.
“And as I recall, Lewis was the most peculiar man, especially in his later years.” You tease, not at all surprised when Myka’s jaw practically hits the table, a piece of muffin hovering near her mouth.
“You knew Lewis Carroll?” She sputters and you smile, lifting your cup to your mouth as Myka leans forward, wooden table creaking beneath her eagerness and the questions bubbling forward in her mind are quite visible in her eyes. You decide right then and there that you rather enjoy being the reason for the excited expression currently taking over Myka’s face.
///
“You…are a…cheater!”
You drag your eyes from the glossy magazine full of people that Claudia claims are ‘famous for nothing‘, as Pete tumbles through the front door of the B&B, grey shirt darkened with sweat and skin glistening in a way not entirely unattractive, heavy body making a solid thump on the hardwood.
“I’m a cheater?” Myka cries, simultaneously breathless and incredulous, following Pete inside. A well worn sneaker finds purchase between Pete’s shoulder blades instead of simply stepping around his massive prone form. Her shifting weight forces a grunt from Pete and you eye the miles of skin Myka is unabashedly flaunting. “You pushed me into a bush!”
You barely manage to hide a smirk at the bits of leaf and twig tangled in Myka’s ponytail as Pete pushes to his feet with a groan, trailing behind Myka while Leena and Claudia emerge from the kitchen, as if expecting a show.
They’re not wrong in their expectations you realize as you shut your magazine. You’ve learned in your short time here that together Pete and Myka project a certain energy, a specific magnetism.
“How’d the run go?” Leena questions, settling into high backed chair, a cup of tea cradled in her hands while Claudia circles around the bickering duo, everyone finding their places easily amongst the chaos and you feel like an outsider, not for the first time.
“Pete shoved me into a bush!” Myka blurts, poking Pete in the chest and Claudia gives him a disapproving shove in the shoulder.
“Dude, you’re a cheater?”
“I did not shove you! I gave you a little nudge and even if I did ‘push’ you, which I didn’t, do you really think hitting me in the legs with a rake was an appropriate response?!” Pete cries, rubbing his chest and glaring at Claudia who glares back.
“Yeah, I do.” You watch as Myka stalks towards the couch, dropping down beside you as though its completely normal and honestly, you’re taken aback for a moment. Even more so than by the image of Myka and Pete brawling in the streets of Univille.
“So, do I.” Claudia agrees.
“Me too.” Leena hums, mouth quirking into a smile.
“You’re actions do seem a bit unsavory.” You add as Myka shifts beside you, sinking deeper into the cushions
“See, you’re a jerk.” Myka points out simply. “4 against 1.”
“What? No! You guys are all chicks, you’re like, programmed to agree with one another or something.” Pete cries, eyebrows arching. “That doesn’t count!”
Suddenly everyone is talking at once, yelling over one another but you’re actively distracted by Myka beside you, absolutely buzzing with energy and warmth and so very alive.
“You two are quite competitive.” You interrupt loudly, leaning over to tug a twig from Myka’s hair, fingers tangling in the loose, wispy curls at the nape of her neck and its not till your fingertips slide against the soft, damp skin at the back of her neck do you realize how long its been since you’ve touched someone, felt someone against your hand without a weapon curled in the other or unpleasant intentions.
Myka tips her head, gazing at you curiously and you realize your touch is lingering too long. You recognize the slip of control for exactly what it is.
“Why don’t you both drop your trousers and see once and for all who’s is bigger?” You suggest, showing Myka the newly freed piece of foliage and Myka grins at you even as her cheeks turn the most perfect shade of pink.
“Not necessary!” Pete declares, puffing out his chest while Leena snickers. “Cause we all know that Myka’s…is bigger…though I’m nothing to frown at either.”
“Gross.” Claudia gags.
Myka moves then, quick as a flash, jumping to her feet and twisting Pete into a headlock while Claudia dances around them, cheering them both on.
“You’re just a sore loser.” Myka laughs, tightening her arms and Pete flails a little. “Maybe if you lay off the cookies you could win a race or two.”
“You callin’ me fat, Olive Oil?” Pete chokes out, hands coming up to pry at Myka’s arms.
“Hey, I call it like I see it.” Myka taunts with a twist of her arms.
“Oh no she didn’t!” Claudia laughs, the bright, childish sound giving away her age before whacking Pete on his backside “Though you do seem to be hauling a bit more junk in your trunk.”
“That’s it!” Pete roars and then there’s a lot of shoving and grunting that ends with Pete hauling Myka over his shoulder in a truly Neanderthal fashion.
“Pete, no! Put me down!” Myka yelps, swinging upside down against his broad back.
“Tarzan no put down.” Pete grunts, turning and heading for the stairs, one fist beating against his chest. “But Jane kind of heavy. Maybe Tarzan not only one who need lay off cookies.”
“Oh whatever, you just better not fart.”
“Tarzan make no promise.”
Leena laughs softly as they disappear up the stairs, Claudia giving chase.
“They are quite the troop, aren’t they.” You murmur watching them go for a moment before glancing back at Leena who is sipping her tea around a faint smile.
“That they definitely are.” She murmurs, eyeing you in a way you don’t particularly care for. “Ya know, they’re tight. Those three.”
“I can see that.” You hum, squaring your shoulders under Leena’s concentrated gaze.
“But once you worm your way in…you’re in.” Leena whispers before taking another sip of tea. “You’re in the family and those three will do anything to protect their family.”
You smile a little, you’ve heard from Pete about Leena’s ability to read people but you’ve never experienced it beyond her ability to know when Pete was lying about stealing cookies.
“Oh?” You exhale, sinking back into the sofa. “And how do I work my way into their faction?”
“You’re already doing it.” Leena smiles softly and you nearly blush under her knowing gaze as warmth swells behind your ribs.
It cools just as suddenly as you mind flits over the plans that are swirling in your brain. The things that must be done.
You stand warily, Leena’s eyes following. “Excuse me, wont you?”
///
A ferret falls ill and all Warehouse activity comes to a screeching halt.
It’s ridiculous, really, because its only a rodent with beady eyes and the most awkward of bodies and from what you’ve seen of this ferret he’s not much of a companion what with his noisy eating and penchant for defecating in peoples shoes.
In fact, he seems awfully sinister, watching you apprehensively when Myka invites you to her bedroom to peruse her personal library of well worn novels. Like he knows the perverse thrill that rolls down your spine just from being invited into Myka’s personal sanctum.
To be quite honest, you don’t care for Pete the Ferret at all but when you push open Myka’s slightly ajar bedroom door, prepared to launch in to a speech on the importance of maintaining Warehouse duties, you find her sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her bed with Pete The Ferret tucked against her chest, you realize very suddenly that as much as you dislike the rodent you would appreciate it very much if he didn’t die.
“Oh,” You exhale when she looks up at you with round, wet eyes. “Oh, darling.”
“He’s really sick, HG.” Myka whispers, voice thickened and soft and something inside of you aches very suddenly, in a way you haven’t felt in over century. “He-he wont drink or-or eat and….”
You’re moving to sit beside her before you realize it, before you can remember that there are reasons you need to get back to the Warehouse, things you’re anxious to investigate.
“Has he been seen by a veterinarian?” You coo, stroking a hand over her knee soothingly while she sniffles and tries to coax the rodent into taking a drink from the water bottle in her hand.
“Yeah.” She sniffs and you reach over to trail your fingers over Pete’s fur. “Kelly says it’s the flu and it has to run its course but he hasn‘t been eating or drinking and if he doesn‘t…then….”
“Myka, I’ve no doubts that your furry companion will get well soon.” You murmur softly, smiling reassuringly when she glances at you. “His will to survive is impressive if the number of times he’s thwarted my own murderous attempts after discovering his…trinkets… in my boots is any indication.”
She laughs at this, tired and wary and you don’t resist the urge to tuck disobedient curls behind her ear. “You know, when I first got Pete, I hated him.”
“We’re still referring to the ferret, correct?” You smile innocently and Myka graces you with that charmingly crooked smile that makes you want to trace your fingertips over her lips, over the dimple in her cheek. “Now, why don’t you put Pete The Ferret back in his cage and let him rest.”
She does it wordlessly, setting the rodent back in his cage and hanging the water bottle back on the pen.
“I’m not usually like this.” She whispers, locking the cage and glancing at you sheepishly over a narrow shoulder.
“What do you mean by this?” You wonder.
“I mean, so…so emotional.” She shrugs a little, adjusting the water bottle on the outside of the cage and you find the statement quite curious because you’ve always seen Myka as emotional.
Maybe not as volcanic or expressive as Pete or Claudia or even Artie but just as fueled by emotions, emotions that bubble and build beneath her cool façade and nearly compulsive need to be far more analytical than she is by nature.
“No worries, Darling.” You murmur, gazing at the ball of fur curled up in the cage and not at the curve of Myka’s spine.
“Thank you,” She sighs after a moment, sitting beside you heavily and dropping her head back against the mattress and you stare at the pale line of her throat, imagine pressing your mouth to her pulse. “You can leave if you want. I‘m okay.”
There are things you need to do, artifacts you need to examine in the warehouse for the plans, the endless thoughts that are wrapped around your mind but you can’t seem to focus on any of that with Myka warm and full of false bravado beside you.
“I‘d actually like to sit with you, if you don‘t mind.” You whisper and you hold your breath as she glances at you thoughtfully.
“I don’t.” She finally whispers.
///
You realize that you’re quite enamored with Myka.
The revelation is not all that surprising honestly.
She devours knowledge in a way that you find endlessly attractive. Coupled with her appreciation of finely tailored clothing and proficiency at hand to hand combat ensures that you stand absolutely no chance against her slightly awkward, sometimes silly, always endearing charm.
It’s not surprising but it is a problem.
In another time and place, things could be perfect but you are no longer in that time or that place and things have changed. Things will have to be changed more.
You won’t be here long. There are things, unforgivable things, that you must do and you know everything will be easier to focus on if you could just ignore the emotions, ignore these bonds you’re unintentionally forging with these people, ignore the attraction blooming between yourself and Myka but its becoming glaringly obvious that these things wont be easily ignored. That she won’t be easily ignored.
Especially when she kisses you.
Her mouth is tentative against yours, soft and curious and nothing like Pete, Pete whom you’d honestly thought of seducing because it would’ve been an easy, fun way to relieve certain tensions but ultimately you couldn’t go through because Myka herself had been a quiet challenge, curiosity hot in a green eyes, honest faith in you that she wrapped about herself like armor and a magnetism that you couldn’t help but fall victim to.
You’re especially grateful now, with you’re mouth opening against Myka’s, that you refrained from attempting to encourage any sort of inappropriate liaison with Pete.
You’ve been aware of Myka’s mutual interest. Of her wandering eyes, gaze heavy on your skin when she’s sure you won’t notice but you never thought she’d act on it.
Because Myka is a woman made of self control and repression that overlays churning emotions and you hadn’t realized the chasm your own coy, hungry looks and suggestive words have made in her façade until she kisses you with a wave of emotions that spills out of her and into you.
She’s pulling away nearly as abruptly as she arrived, rearing back with a sharp inhalation and your eyes flutter at the loss.
“I’m sorry.” Myka swallows, licks her lips like she can taste you there and you’re positive you’re leering. “Damn it.”
“That was quite the surprise, wasn’t it?” You breathe mostly to yourself, fingertips pressing to your lips absently while you watch Myka frown and tug a hand through her hair. “Though there‘s no need for apologies. Its been quite a while since I’ve been handled in such an…enjoyable manner.
“I-uh…?” Myka sputters, nose scrunching up and you close the distance between the two of you, right there in the Warehouse library while your heart does the most peculiar dance behind your ribs.
“Myka, I must admit,” You start carefully and Myka blinks at you with bright eyes, chin dropping to the a bit. “I am extremely attracted to you.”
There are other things you should probably admit to also but the way Myka’s mouth flickers makes the notion of coming completely clean unbearable.
“There are rules against fraternization.” She croaks as if she’s attempting to convince herself and you feel yourself smile sympathetically “And-and you’re HG Wells. THE HG Wells.”
“I am well aware.” You chuckle breathlessly, reaching out to brush a finger against the back of her hand. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you kissed me.”
“It was an accident.” She murmurs, frowning as though she’s upset with herself and you watch her fingers reach up press against her forehead.
When you push your hand up the back of her neck, fingertips slipping into the fine hair at her nape, she doesn’t even look at you. Just squeezes her eyes shut tightly as her head tips towards you, like you could do with her what you please and you keep your eyes focused on her as you press your mouth to hers again and that feeling that Myka unintentionally toys with, the one you haven’t felt since long before you were even bronzed, flares brightly within you.
“Do…” Myka starts when you pull away, voice thick and eyes still closed. “Do you feel it to? That-that…” She trails off, unable to put words to the feeling but you nod because you definitely feel it to.
It feels like hope, that bright flickering thing inside you, and honestly, you hadn’t expected that. It’s presence is enough to make you breathe deeply, to savor the feeling because as pure and good Myka is, she is not enough to make up for how ugly and crippled the world has become.
She can’t be.
She won’t be.
You know how this will all play out even as you kiss Myka again, even as she lets you.