Her Face, Her Voice
Spoiler:season 3, including the final
Disclaimer: If I did own the rights to these lovely ladies they would have a lot more fun – trust me.
Note: this story is in response to a prompt posted on "Meet at Gunpoint" Live Journal.
Prompt: Warehouse 13 Hustle crossover featuring Stacie Monroe, Danny Blue, Mickey 'Bricks' Stone, Myka Bering, Pete Lattimer, HG Wells.
Summary: On a case in London, Pete and Myka share a drink at a pub when they meet someone very interesting. Myka/HG established.
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...
"Pete, for God's sake, focus!" Myka hissed under her breath.
"I'm just saying that it's gin 'o clock and we're in London, so we should call it a day," Pete tried again. He raised his drink to his lips and took a sip. He glanced at Myka sipping her beer. "I assume that they still serve their beer at the wrong temperature."
A soft chuckle on Myka's left made her realize that someone had overheard Pete's so typical American tourist comment. She slowly turned her head and found herself looking into warm dark eyes. Eyes that were eerily familiar. Myka had to force herself not to gasp as she found herself face-to-face with HG Wells. After the initial shock she scrutinized the woman further and noticed minor differences. She took a deep breath. The woman laughed and gently touched Myka's arm.
"You look like you just saw a ghost, darling," she teased.
"I think I just did," Myka mumbled and took a big sip of her beer.
Pete chose that moment to bug Myka again when he found himself ignored.
"Hey Myka…" he said, and then stared at the woman sitting next to his partner. "This is not possible."
The woman laughed a little nervously, eyeing the two Americans a little suspiciously. She was used to having the upper hand, and she found herself completely thrown off. Realizing that she had mistakenly assumed the two Americans to be an easy target for her planned small con, Stacie Monroe now thought fast how to save the situation.
"I think you need to tell me who I remind you of," Stacie said and smiled, her dark eyes twinkling with mirth.
"I wish we could," Myka mumbled and turned her head away. "It's classified."
"Classified?" Stacie laughed out loud. "What is she? A spy?"
"No," Pete said and smiled sadly at her. "You just remind us of someone we used to know and who is now gone."
"Oh," Stacie said somberly. "I'm dreadfully sorry. Please accept my sincere apology for being disrespectful of your friend."
Myka nodded and chewed on her lip. She felt tears in her eyes and looked down at the bar counter. She focused on the number of beer rings on the wood and a peanut that Pete had dropped when missing hitting his mouth in order to calm down and prevent the tears from falling. She sighed heavily and played with her glass as she lost herself in thoughts about HG Wells.
"She was very special, wasn't she?" Stacie said, now very gently, only addressing Myka.
"She was," Myka whispered. "She gave her life to save us."
"Dear God!"
"It's uncanny," Pete muttered still somewhat in shock.
"Perhaps I should leave?" Stacie said, feeling uncomfortable.
"No, you shouldn't have to," Myka said and smiled. "You're not Helena. Just because you happen to look like her..." Myka's voice faulted her.
"Stacie Monroe," Stacie said and smiled at Myka.
Myka shook the slender hand and again had to choke back a gasp. Stacie's hand felt just like Helena's. "Myka Bering," she mumbled quickly and flashed Stacie a quick smile.
"Pete Lattimer," Pete said and leaned across Myka to shake Stacie's hand.
"What are the two of you doing in London? Honeymoon?"
Pete laughed a little nervously. "No! We're colleagues. We're here on a job."
Stacie tilted her head and looked at Myka. "What do you two do?"
"Government," Myka mumbled.
Stacie's eyes widened a little. "What exactly?"
"Secret Service," Pete mumbled, not to draw attention to them.
Stacie sat back and forced a smile. She knew that there were places in the United States where she was still wanted for grand theft. Could these two agents possibly be here to apprehend her, she thought.
"What do you do Ms. Monroe?" Pete asked, with a wide grin plastered on his face. "You look like you could be a model or an actress or something."
Stacie saw through his charming guy act instantly and shot Myka a quick glance. She bit her lip when she caught Myka rolling her eyes. She leaned across Myka, touching her arm in the process and lowered her voice as she answered Pete.
"I'm what you would call an entrepreneur," she said nonchalantly. "I run a consulting business with my business partners."
Pete whistled, impressed. Myka suppressed the urge to kick his shin. She felt the heat from Stacie's body as she leaned over Myka's arm. Don't think about what part of her body is pressed against your arm, Myka repeated silently to herself over and over, as Stacie talked to Pete.
"You're very quiet, love," Stacie said and patted Myka's hand as she sat down again. "Something amiss?"
"No, just thinking," Myka said quickly.
"Myka and I were just talking about dinner," Pete interrupted. "Do you have any suggestions? You know, being a local and all."
Again Myka rolled her eyes at Pete's obvious lines. Stacie chuckled and her hand landed on Myka's thigh as she leaned closer.
"Do you like curry, love?"
Myka nodded, unable to formulate a sentence, her mind focused on breathing and not on how good Stacie's hand on her thigh felt.
"Perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner? I'm meeting my associates at an Indian restaurant around the corner."
"Great!" Pete said and finished his ginger ale. "Mykes?"
Myka shrugged. "Sure. Indian sounds good."
Stacie slid off her chair and reached for her bag hanging under the counter. Myka swallowed at the sight of her. Stacie was in a red dress that showed quite a lot of leg. Myka followed those slender legs down to Stacie's high heels. God, she was stunning, Myka thought. Noticing Stacie's coat hanging on the back of the chair, Myka grabbed it and held it for Stacie. The smile Stacie rewarded her with could have melted a glacier. Myka blushed and bit her lip when she heard Stacie chuckle.
"Thank you, darling."
Stacie linked her arm with Myka's and smiled at her as she pulled Myka closer.
"After you ladies," Pete said and grinned.
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...
Myka knew that Stacie was feeling her out when she sat down next to Myka, shooing her friend Danny away. Danny had turned on all his charm on Myka the second he spotted her. Myka actually felt a little flattered by the attention. Danny seemed harmless enough. He reminded Myka a bit of Pete. On her other side Myka had the pleasure of the elderly American gentleman Stacie had introduced as Albert Stroller, or Albie. His intelligent witty stories had Myka laughing out loud several times.
Short one menu, Stacie had handed hers to Pete and instead leaned over Myka's arm to share hers. She pointed out her favorite dishes while asking Myka for her likes and dislikes. Together the two selected a few dishes that sounded amazing to Myka. Handing her menu to the waiter she flashed Stacie a grateful smile.
"Thanks. There are so many more choices here than at the restaurants back home."
"I guess that's one benefit from the British Empire forcing its traditions on India back in Victorian days," Stacie muttered. "We are lucky really."
"Someone I used to know once said the same thing," Myka mumbled.
"Helena?" Stacie guessed correctly.
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry. My presence is painful for you. Perhaps this was a bad idea," Stacie said and put her hand on top of Myka's.
Myka shook her head. "No, it's not your fault that you look like her. And this is very nice."
"All right then," Stacie said and laughed. "Perhaps I can charm you enough that you will learn to love me too?"
Myka choked on her beer at the last few words. Stacie titled her head and her eyes narrowed.
"Myka," she whispered. "Please look at me."
Myka looked into Stacie's dark eyes, so similar to Helena's, yet so different. Stacie's held none of the pain and turmoil that seemed to be forever present in HG Wells' eyes, though in this very moment Stacie's eyes were filled with concern.
"You were…" she whispered and grabbed Myka's hand.
"Yes we were," Myka interrupted her.
"And she died for you."
Myka felt Stacie's hand tremble and she caressed her fingers as she smiled weakly at her.
"Oi, Stace, what are you saying to this beautiful woman? She doesn't seem all that happy about whatever it is."
"Oh, shut it Danny," Stacie snapped, for once not up to deal with his boyish antics.
Danny's eyebrows shot up but he did not press the issue. Mickey shot Stacie a quick glance and realized that something important was going on between the two women.
"I don't know about you all, but I could sure use a drink," he said and smiled. Mickey turned in his seat and put a hand on Pete's shoulder. "What do you say? Up for it?"
Pete glanced at Myka who was deep in conversation with Stacie. Their voices were hushed so he could not make out what they were talking about. He nodded at Mickey.
"Sounds great."
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...
To Eddie's credit he had only grumbled a little when the Hustle crew showed up in his bar about half an hour before closing. Then Stacie had smiled at him and given him one of those lingering kisses on his cheek and he had forgotten all about closing.
"So then Danny here closed his eyes just as he was landing, ending up hitting our mate. Broke his foot," Mickey said and grinned.
Danny made a face. "Wasn't my fault really. He should bloody well have moved when he knew I was right behind 'im."
"You just wanted a soft landing, Danny," Stacie teased. "Just like when you did your training jump!"
They all laughed and Danny glared at Stacie. Pete and Myka looked at them with identical puzzled looks on their faces. Stacie took Myka's hand and burst out laughing again.
"He was jumping off the back of a parked lorry. No more than three feet, four tops," she said and laughed even more. Myka grinned.
"Not funny Stacie," Danny muttered.
"Hey I've done my share of disgusting things," she said and pointed at him before taking a sip of her drink.
Myka opened her mouth to ask what exactly she meant about that when Mickey finished his drink and put it down with a gentle smack. He smiled at them.
"Shall we continue this at home?"
Mumbled consent and they were on the move again. Pete grabbed Myka's elbow, holding her back.
"What's going on Mykes?" he said under his breath.
"Nothing."
"You sure?" he asked concerned. "She's not Helena."
"I know that Pete," she said a little harsher than planned. "I'm sorry," she said and sighed.
"You coming, darling?" Stacie said and smiled at Myka.
"Want to?" she said to Pete. He nodded. "Sounds great Stacie," Myka answered.
Stacie smiled and grabbed Myka's arm, holding her tight. "Brilliant."
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...
To Myka's surprise Mickey had opened a bottle of champagne back at the apartment. Glancing around the place she realized that these people, whatever they did, were very well off. She sighed and leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees.
"Are you all right, love?" Stacie asked with a little pout that Myka found endearing.
"Yeah. Just thinking you know."
Stacie leaned closer and kissed Myka's cheek. She tucked a lock of Myka's hair behind her ear and smiled at her.
"I think you never stop thinking," she said seriously. "You are brilliant Myka."
Myka chuckled and shook her head. "Not really. Helena was, but not me. Helena's mind was astounding. I really wish I could tell you more about her," Myka said with a deep sigh.
Stacie nodded. She felt a bit strange about being someone's dead lover's doppelganger, but the more time she spent with Myka, the more drawn she was to her, and she found herself unable to distance herself. It worried her a bit. She was a con artist, she reminded herself. She had played so many parts. Why could she not play this one?
"Please excuse me," Myka said and got up.
Stacie watched Myka slip out onto the roof terrace. She waited for a long moment, giving Myka some space, before she followed her. She wrapped her arms around Myka's waist and just held her.
The shaking started as a gentle tremble. Before Myka knew it she was crying hard and her body shook in Stacie's arms. Stacie gently turned her around and caressed her cheek, wiping the tears away as she made little cooing comforting noises. Myka rested her head on Stacie's shoulder and just cried. When she finally had no more tears left she pulled away from Stacie and wiped her face, feeling more than a little embarrassed about her outburst.
"I'm sorry, Stacie," she mumbled.
"Don't be daft," Stacie muttered and wrapped her arms around Myka again. "You needed me."
Myka put her hand on top of Stacie's, comforted by the warmth. She leaned back against Stacie, for the first time noticing that she was the shorter of the two. She chuckled at the discovery.
"I didn't realize before, but I think you might be taller than Helena. I always towered over her by at least two inches or so."
"I'm wearing pretty high heels, darling," Stacie teased.
"I see."
Stacie moved around and faced Myka. She cupped her cheek and smiled at her. When Myka returned the smile, Stacie gently brushed her lips against Myka's in a soft kiss. Myka pulled away and sighed.
"I'm sorry Stacie. I can't."
"No, Myka, don't. I overstepped," Stacie said and touched Myka's arm. "It won't happen again. I promise."
Myka smiled and nodded. She touched Stacie's hair, playing with a soft lock, twirling it around her finger.
"You look just like her, but at the same time you're uniquely you. It's confusing, but nice at the same time if that makes any sense."
"It does."
Stacie stepped closer and put her arms around Myka's waist. "Please stay here tonight."
"I can't," Myka whispered.
"I think you should," Stacie pushed on.
"Why? This can't be easy for you either."
"True, but I care about you Myka Bering, and I think I can help you," Stacie said and smiled.
"How?"
"You never got to say goodbye to her, did you?" Stacie whispered.
Myka shook her head and looked out over the London skyline, afraid of looking into Stacie's gentle brown eyes.
"Then let me be her tonight. Talk to me, Myka. Tell her all the things you never had a chance to."
"Why are you doing this?" Myka said and choked back a sob.
"Because I care about you," Stacie said and caressed Myka's cheek. "As lovely as I find you Myka, I don't really see a future for us. If I can help you in any way to move on with your life, please let me. Perhaps that's why destiny crossed our paths tonight."
Myka felt tears roll down her cheeks again and finally nodded.
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...
Curled up in Stacie's bed with Stacie spooned up behind her, Myka talked to Helena. She told her how sorry she was for not believing in Helena the entire time, about how much she missed her. She even vented her anger at Helena for giving her life to save them. Finally close to exhausted Myka spoke gently about how much she loved her and how she would never forget her.
Stacie listened to Myka talk, amazed at the depth of her emotions. Helena had been a very lucky woman, but apparently one deeply scarred by life, not fully accepting Myka's love until it was too late. Stacie felt tears in her eyes as she thought of the two lovers and the life they had been robbed of. She pulled Myka closer and kissed her shoulder.
"She used to do that, you know," Myka whispered.
"I had no idea Myka," Stacie said, voice full of emotion. "All of this sounds so wrong. The two of you had your life stolen from you."
Myka turned and faced Stacie. She gently caressed her cheek and traced a perfect eyebrow that was identical to one she had touched not long ago. She cupped Stacie's chin and smiled at her.
"You are so beautiful Stacie. You are Helena without the pain and scars. Even after knowing you only for a few hours I can tell that you are very smart, perhaps smarter than all of those guys."
Stacie chuckled and made a face. "If I didn't know better I would say that you were flirting with me."
Myka caressed Stacie's lower lip with the pad of her thumb. "Under different circumstances I'm fairly sure that I would've done more than just flirting," she teased. "Still, I'm in your bed so I can't be doing that poorly."
Stacie laughed and nodded. She looked into Myka's eyes for a long moment before finally opening her mouth to reveal her deepest darkest secret.
"I'm a thief Myka. A con artist."
"I know," Myka said and smiled.
"You know?" Stacie said alarmed and sat up. "How?"
Myka gave her a look and Stacie thought for a moment. Proving Myka's theory about her intelligence it took Stacie less than a minute to figure it out.
"Albie," she whispered.
"Yes. When I went to the bathroom at the restaurant I called the office and had them check him. Albert Stroller is one busy man," Myka teased.
"What are you going to do?" Stacie asked and eyed Myka warily. Her escape route was cut off by Pete sleeping on the sofa in the living room. If Myka wanted to arrest her, she could do so with ease.
"Nothing. What is there to do? There is no proof that you committed a crime," Myka said and shrugged. "I know that you did, and I know that I would like to hear the brilliant stories of how, but the truth remains; there's no evidence of you ever being involved in a crime."
Stacie sighed and closed her eyes. Myka gently pulled her down on the bed again and wrapped her arm around Stacie's waist.
"Thank you for what you did tonight. It means more than you think."
"You're welcome," Stacie mumbled, still deep in thought about the consequences of Myka knowing about them.
"You wanted to know about Helena," Myka said hesitantly. "To prove that your secret is safe with me I will share as much as I can."
Stacie just stared at her. "Do I want to know?"
Myka shrugged. "I don't know, but I will tell you none the less."
"Please," Stacie whispered.
"The first time I met her I thought she was an escaped criminal and I pulled my gun on her," Myka said with a chuckle. "The second time, I caught her stealing, and I called her a thief, again holding her at gunpoint."
Stacie just stared at her. Myka looked into Stacie's eyes before she continued.
"This might be hard to believe, but Helena was born in 1866, here in London."
"That's impossible!" Stacie said and laughed.
"It should be, but yet it's the truth. She was sort of cryogenically preserved until someone, another thief, revived her a few years ago."
"Are you pulling my leg?" Stacie said with a frown. "You know Myka; I've really been patient with you because I honestly care about you. If that means so little to you, perhaps you should just leave instead of making fun of me."
Myka gently touched Stacie's lips to silence her. "Shh, it's fine. I'm not making this up. I promise," she said and smiled. "Helena's real name was Helena G. Wells."
"Alright?" Stacie said and frowned.
"HG Wells," Myka said, waiting for Stacie's response.
"What? Myka, you can't be serious."
"I absolutely am. This information is as you can probably understand classified and I could get into a whole lot of trouble for telling you, but I want you to know. She was HG Wells, and she was brilliant."
Stacie nodded, still very much in shock. She looked at Myka to detect any hint of deception. She found none.
...
...
A week after Pete and Myka left London, Stacie found herself back at the London archives. Searching for Helena G. Wells she had found several articles. She felt a stab of sadness when she read about the death of Helena's daughter, Christina Wells, and she now understood the sadness Myka had spoken about.
After reading several articles about both Helena and Charles, Stacie finally came across what she had been searching for. A photograph. She stared at the screen and touched her neck as a comforting gesture she was not even aware of doing.
"Dear God," she whispered as she stared at her own reflection looking at her from the screen. No wonder Myka thought she had seen a ghost, she thought. Helena Wells and Stacie Monroe could have been twins.
Printing out a copy of the picture, Stacie returned the materials to the library clerk. Stepping outside into the warm day she turned her face up at the sky wondering if Helena Wells had enjoyed the simple comfort it offered, if she had done the same thing way back when in Victorian London.
"I will watch over her, Helena," she whispered. "If I can't let her have you back, at least I can make sure that she's all right."
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...
Over the following months many emails and even letters were exchanged across the Atlantic between one lonely Secret Service Agent and a resourceful con artist.
Stacie straightened up as she heard the announcement of Myka's flight over the loudspeakers. Facing the exit she watched and waited. Finally she spotted Myka's tall frame and walked towards her. She stopped when she spotted Myka's companion. The two women looked at each other for a moment.
"Stacie Monroe I presume," a voice, sounding like her own said with a teasing little chuckle.
"Helena Wells," Stacie whispered.
"This time it's you who look like you've seen a ghost," Myka teased and tilted her head.
Stacie nodded. "How?"
Myka gave Stacie a hug and held her against her for a long moment. "We will tell you everything. I promise."
Helena smiled and her eyes met Stacie's. "Thank you," she whispered with a broad smile.
Stacie laughed and nodded.
THE END