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SPOILERS: Season Two.
Dusty Footprints in Time
Myka watched Helena out of the corner of her eye. She had been doing this a lot lately. Well, if she was honest to herself she had always been watching Helena; though recently the reason had changed. She was worried. Her beautiful partner had withdrawn into herself, and become more and more solemn. Myka had tried to bring up her concerns with Artie, but all she got was a muttered about time she stopped chatting and arguing about everything. Pete had just shrugged not knowing what to say. Myka sighed in frustration. The only one who had been able to shed some light on the situation was Claudia. Apparently Helena had asked for her help finding out what happened to her family and friends.
Myka had tried her best to give Helena some space, but seeing how the situation was taking its toll on Helena she knew she had to confront her about it. She looked more closely at Helena and was shocked to see that she had lost weight. Helena was naturally slim, but she could see her shoulder blades sticking out like sharp wings on her back. How had she missed this? She closed her book and got up.
Helena Wells was at a loss. She felt like she was falling, swirling on an invisible current that swept her towards damnation, relentless in its hold and without compassion. She had finally come to terms with her survival guilt, when this odd loneliness had swept in like a dark cloud on a clear summer sky. She knew she should be grateful for her new family, and she was. She had gained a new brother and a little sister, and then of course there was Myka, her sweet, sweet Myka. Still she did feel a little like an orphan taken in by a stern and unfriendly uncle. Artie still showed no signs of letting his guard down. She sighed. It didn't really matter. She had handled worse. Her thoughts shifted to the past and the faces of loved ones long lost. One after the other they piled on top of each other as she revisited her memories. Not realizing that she was almost back at the house she stopped surprised, by the old swing in the back yard. She grabbed it and pushed it as if pushing an invisible child. It swung a little crookedly, empty as it was. She caught it on its return and stopped its journey short. Suddenly feeling every year of her life bearing down on her she sat down heavily on the swing, grateful for the comfort it offered. She grabbed the rope and kicked off, slowly swinging back and forth. The familiar feeling brought a smile to her lips.
"You have yet to pick your one," a familiar voice said behind her.
Helena turned her head and looked at the serious woman standing there peering at her with her peppercorn eyes hidden behind dark framed glasses.
"I have," Helena said confused.
Mrs. Frederic smiled at her and took a few steps closer. "Helena, Myka doesn't count. Since she is part of the Warehouse staff she already knows. You still have one other person to share your secrets with."
Helena sighed. She knew who she would pick, but yet she knew it was an impossible choice. "There is no other," she whispered.
"I know you are hurting, Helena," Mrs. Frederic said softly, realizing that she had to tread lightly around the emotionally unstable woman. "I have watched the research Ms. Donovan has done for you. There are others. The choice is yours."
Helena stood up and turned; her jaw tight in anger. "You know that there is no way I can tell any of them anything," she said angrily. "Why are you tormenting me like this?"
Mrs. Frederic smiled. "I am offering you a way to connect with your family again. Come sit with me and I'll explain." She gently touched Helena's arm and was pleased when she allowed her to escort her to a nearby bench.
"Helena," Myka said softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."
Helena looked up at Myka's face and saw the worry in her eyes. She took her hand and pulled her down on her lap. "I'm afraid I am in a bit of a dilemma darling," she said softly, her voice trembling a little.
"How can I help?" Myka asked and kissed her temple.
"I don't know, but maybe you will if I tell you what's going on."
Myka nodded silently. She slipped off Helena's lap and sat down next to her. She watched silently as Helena opened the black folder that she had been carrying with her everywhere lately. She took out a stack of photographs and a large folded paper. She unfolded it and Myka's eyebrows shot up when she realized what she was looking at.
"That's the Wells' family tree," she said amazed. She jumped up and skimmed through the names. "That's you," she said and pointed at Helena's name and birth year. To her surprise there was no date for her death. Below Helena's name was Christina Wells and her birth and death dates.
Helena watched Myka's face as she read the names and waited for the realization to hit. It only took a few moments. Myka's finger traced Charles' name and his children and grand children.
"Helena, you have living relatives," she said and smiled at her.
Helena smiled and nodded. "I do indeed."
Confused at Helena's lack of enthusiasm Myka frowned, then she finally understood. "You can't contact them since they don't know that you even exist."
Helena nodded. "I can never tell them the truth. No matter how clever the explanation for connecting with them might be, it would always be a lie," she said sadly.
Myka chewed on her lip. "There's something you're not telling me," she said softly.
Helena chuckled. She ran her finger down Myka's cheek, gently pushing an errant lock behind a delicate ear. "That's my girl, picking up on the missing pieces of the puzzle."
Myka smiled at her and took a step closer until she could wrap her arms around Helena's slim waist. "Please tell me. If you can."
Helena kissed her and nodded. "Mrs. Frederic has given me a chance to reclaim my family. Not as Helena Grace Wells of course, but as Helena Wells Singleton, the illegitimate great-granddaughter of HG Wells and her American lover George Burrows."
Myka just stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
Helena smiled. "George Burrows did exist and we were in fact lovers for a short period of time. I did however not have a child with him. What Mrs. Frederic is offering is to create a child, a daughter, Helena Wells Singleton's great-grandmother so to speak."
"Wow," Myka said in awe. "That's quite something."
"The French estate would be transferred again from me to me," she said and laughed.
Myka chuckled and poked her ribs. "Funny."
"Do you think I should do it?"
Myka chewed on her lip as she thought about it. She let go of Helena and again looked at the items on the table. She sifted through the photographs of Helena's relatives. The last one made her gasp. It was a picture of Helena.
"Ghastly, I know," Helena chuckled behind her. "That dress is dreadful. I don't know how on earth that particular picture managed to survive.
Myka grinned. "You are still beautiful, even in a frumpy dress."
"Frumpy?" Helena exclaimed.
Myka laughed at the annoyed look on Helena's face. "Priceless," she mumbled.
Helena shot her a dirty look. "Frumpy indeed," she muttered.
"So who are these people?"
Helena spread out the pictures. She knew them all by now. "That's my brother Charles. I think you probably recognize him since he's the one who was the official HG Wells, with whiskers and all."
"This one here would be George Burrows," she said and handed the photo to Myka.
Myka looked at the old sepia photograph. It felt so strange to look at this man, long dead, knowing that at one point he had shared Helena's life. She just couldn't feel the connection. She picked up the photo of Helena and held them side by side. It helped a little. "He was a handsome man."
Helena smiled. "He was. And kind, but also a dangerous man." She smiled at Myka when she looked up at her. "He was a gambler and a thief, a con artist really."
Helena took the photos from her and put them aside. "This is Charles' son and his grandson. Sadly enough, I never knew his sons. His wife, Jane was pregnant when I disappeared," she said with hint of regret in her voice. "This handsome fellow here is Charles' great grandson Herbert Phillip Wells. Apparently he goes by HP."
"HP Wells," Myka said and laughed.
Helena smiled and nodded.
"Mrs. Frederic has arranged a meeting with HP next week. She asked me to bring you with me to London. It seems that you are the one who booked the meeting."
"Me?" Myka said confused.
"Well, I can't bloody well waltz in there as HG Wells, can I?" Helena said exasperated. "He'll think I'm mad."
Myka gently put her hands on Helena's arms. "Calm down honey. Of course I'll go with you. You know that."
Helena sighed. "Thank you. I'm sorry for raising my voice. That was uncalled for."
Myka smiled at her. "No need to apologize. I understand."
Helena pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Thank God for you Myka," she whispered. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"You would be sad, and miss out on some fantastic sex," Myka said and smirked at her.
Helena laughed out loud. "Indeed I would darling." She kissed Myka softly and then just held her close. "Thank you."
Myka found out that arrangements had already been made with HP Wells. Mrs. Frederic had handed them each a large file of documents and background information on Helena's new identity. Myka had done her homework and now knew everything about Helena Wells Singleton. She glanced at Helena sitting next to her. She was sleeping peacefully in her reclined first class seat. Artie had almost had smoke coming out his ears when Helena stubbornly refused to fly anything but first class. Or as she had put it, if she was to take another cross Atlantic trip in one of those dreadful aeroplanes, she was damned if she wouldn't do it in style. They had argued and fought for hours. Artie just huffed when she pointed out that even when travelling by ship, she had always travelled first class. Finally she just gave in and handed her credit card to Claudia. And here they were in first class, enjoying gourmet food and Champagne, and of course more space and privacy than in regular coach. Myka tenderly caressed Helena's hair before returning to her file.
"Can I get you anything ma'am?" the stewardess asked in a soft voice so not to disturb the sleeping Helena.
"A ginger ale would be nice, thanks."
"You could have asked for some Champagne," Helena said in a sleepy voice.
Myka chuckled. "I thought you were sleeping."
Helena stretched and turned. She shifted around under the blanket. Myka yelped as the folder started to slide off her lap when Helena's ice cold feet landed in her lap.
"My feet are cold."
Myka just shook her head.
"Your ginger ale," the stewardess said and pulled out the tray before putting down the drink. She smiled at Helena. "Can I get you something now that you're awake?"
"Please darling, some Champagne would be lovely. And perhaps some cheese."
The stewardess smiled and nodded.
Myka shot Helena a look. "Stop doing that."
Helena shrugged, trying to look innocent. "Doing what darling?"
"You were flirting with her."
Helena laughed. "I can't help if she likes me."
Myka pinched her calf and Helena yelped. They looked at each other and laughed.
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