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SPOILERS: Season Two.
Dusty Footprints in Time
Myka was sitting in the bay window in Helena's room, a cup of chamomile tea resting on her thigh. She looked out into the darkness outside pondering the day's events. She turned and smiled when Helena entered. She was dressed for bed in her robe and borrowed slippers. She put her toilet bag on the desk and joined Myka on the window seat.
"What's wrong darling?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking about how strange this day has been and, pardon me for saying it, how strange your family is," Myka said and smiled.
"Perhaps unique is a better word," Helena said softly. Myka nodded.
"Who would've guessed that they had so many secrets, kept so closely within the family without anything ever leaking out? That they knew about you, yet they kept it from the world all these years."
"I know, it's pretty overwhelming to say the least," Helena said with a sigh. "When I was young I craved the power. The need for public recognition burned inside of me, but now," her voice broke. She looked at Myka. "I don't know. I think that I'd rather leave everything as is. I loved Charles. I would never want to take away his legacy, even if it technically wasn't his to begin with."
"You are one amazing woman Helena Grace Wells," Myka said and took her hand.
"Thank you. I think you bring out the best in me."
"Really? I was thinking the complete opposite," Myka teased.
"Oh you," Helena said and made a face at her. Myka kissed her softly.
"But you still love me."
"You know I do darling."
Myka picked up her tea and sipped the now lukewarm beverage. She looked at Helena and smiled. "I still can't believe that the council agreed," she whispered. Helena smiled and nodded.
"I guess they realized that if the Wells family has kept my secret for over a hundred years, they can keep the rest of it too. I'm not arguing with them. I'm just so incredibly relieved that I don't have to lie to them."
"So I get my one person, and you get your whole freaking family," Myka muttered in mock jealousy. Helena laughed and kissed her.
"Perhaps it is also a little bit of compensation for leaving me in the bronze sector for decades longer than what was agreed upon," she said softly. Myka nodded. She sighed and got up. She put the empty tea cup on the tray and smiled at Helena.
"So where's the bathroom?"
Myka closed the door behind her as she returned to their room. Helena was in bed reading. She looked up and smiled at Myka.
"There you are darling. I was about to send out a search party."
Myka slipped between the sheets next to her. "What are you reading?"
Helena showed her the book. "It was one of Charles' favorites. This is actually his book."
Myka touched the leather bound book with gentle fingers. "It should be kept in a safer place than a book case," she mumbled.
Helena chuckled. "Books are meant to be read darling. Not to be displayed in some glass case."
"Still, this is a rare and valuable book. You could find a more recent version of it and keep this one safe."
Helena smiled. "I could, but it wouldn't be the same. Charles read this one. He touched it. It carries his smiles, his sighs and all other emotions he experienced reading it."
Myka smiled and snuggled closer. "I guess when you put it that way, it wouldn't be the same."
Helena kissed her soft curls. "Exactly."
"Were you happy here?" Myka asked softly.
Helena looked at her and nodded. "Most of the time. It was hard to be a girl in those days. I cried myself to sleep many times in this room."
Myka wrapped her arm around her waist and hugged her. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"That's why I decided to raise Christina in London, instead of out here. I hired the best tutors for her. She had everything a boy would have. She was more of a girly girl as Claudia calls it, than I was. I was wilder, more like a boy."
Myka grinned. "My little Victorian tomboy girl. I so wish I could've seen you."
Helena smiled at her. "Who knows, there might be some pictures around? I'll ask HP."
Myka stared at her. "You really think there might be? I would love to have a picture of you."
"My father had pictures taken of us every summer, so perhaps some are still around." She suddenly sat up straight in the bed.
"Helena?" Myka said a little worried. She watched Helena slip out of bed and disappear into the closet. She heard a creaking noise from in there and jumped out of bed.
"Myka! Come here," Helena said excitedly. Myka ran inside the dark room and collided with Helena.
"Ouch!" Helena was holding a small metal box that dug into Myka's ribcage as she ran into Helena.
"I don't know how it's possible that it's still here, but yet, here it is," she whispered.
"What is it?" Myka asked confused as she returned to the bed, absentmindedly rubbing her bruised rib.
"It's my box of secrets from when I was little. I kept it hidden under a floorboard in the closet."
"Wow!" Myka said amazed. "Open it."
Helena's hand trembled a little as she opened the lid. The box was lined with dark blue velvet. There were several little trinkets in there. Helena pulled out a red ribbon and held it up. "My pony wore this when I won my first competition. I spent hours braiding his mane tying each one with one of these ribbons."
"Who's this?" Myka asked holding up a small framed photo.
"That's my great aunt."
Myka looked at the picture. "Great aunt?" she said confused. "She looks like a man."
Helena chuckled. "Auntie George preferred to wear pants. She lived in Paris, so it was not a big deal."
Myka looked closer at the picture and then somehow the words fit together to solve the mystery. "She wasn't your real aunt, was she? Not a blood relative I mean."
Helena shook her head. "Do you recognize her?"
"I think I do," Myka whispered. "Helena, this is just too incredible for words. Is it really her? The George? George Sand?" Helena nodded. "Wow. Please promise you'll tell me about her someday. I would love to hear about her. I've read all her books."
"I promise. Here, look at this."
Myka took the folded paper and read the words. She struggled a little with the elaborate handwriting. Suddenly realizing what she was reading she gasped and looked up at Helena.
"You wrote this!"
Helena nodded. "I did. It's not very good, but then I was only eight years old when I wrote it. See, the date is right there."
"Do you have any idea how valuable this is?" Myka whispered. "A poem written by HG Wells at age eight. My god! If nothing else, the historical value is astronomical."
Helena shrugged and took it back from her. She folded it and put it back. "It's really not very good."
"It doesn't matter. The fact that you wrote it is all that matters. And I think you're not giving yourself enough credit. I think it's very sweet. Who were you writing about?"
"One of the girls next door. I was very fond of her. She was thirteen at the time and I thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She had blue eyes and golden hair that fell in tight curls, very similar to yours. She was always so nice to me. Hugging me and kissing me. I loved visiting them because I could be with her."
"Little Helena's first crush," Myka teased. "What was her name?"
Myka picked up an item and turned it over in her hand. She couldn't quite figure out what it was. She looked confused at Helena.
"That's part of a steam engine. I was fascinated with it. It wasn't really mine. It was given to my brother, but he couldn't care less, so he gave it to me. We were very close Charles and I. He adored me when I was little, and I him. Once we got older we grew apart a bit, which I guess is natural. Still he was always there for me when I needed him. It surprised me so many times that no one discovered our scam and realized that I, not Charles, was the mind behind the books. I guess the idea was too foreign to most people, even those within literary and intellectual circles, for them to entertain the thought. Only one person ever guessed and I told her the truth."
"You told her? Helena, why? You risked a lot by doing that. Obviously she never told anyone, but still."
Helena caressed her cheek. "Helen and I were lovers. There was no one in the entire universe that I trusted more than her. She found my writings and recognized my handwriting. She didn't believe our cover story that I wrote down what Charles dictated. I told her, and I've never regretted it."
Myka nodded. She knew that Helen was long dead, but the way Helena spoke of her still made her feel a little sting of jealousy. This woman had shared something with Helena she could never dream of.
Helena closed the box and put it on the nightstand. "Let's go through the rest tomorrow. It's not going anywhere and I'm getting sleepy."
Myka nodded and curled up next to Helena. She sighed softly as Helena wrapped her arm around her and kissed her.
"Sweet dreams darling."
"You too baby. I love you."
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