Well, looks like getting rid of a baby just made my to-do list
and it looks like I’m the queen
Swan Queen + Harry Potter spells
My favorite part about the night at the strip club.
Myka stared at the item in her hand. She and Helena had been going through the H.G. Wells section if the Warehouse to see if Helena wanted to take any of her personal belongings now that she had decided to live in Bumfuck, Nowhere with some guy and his daughter. The talk where Helena had declared that she wasn’t going to come back to the Warehouse any time soon had been hard, especially for Myka.
"What is that?" Helena asked, pointing at Myka’s hand.
"I think it’s an old photo of you," Myka replied softly, staring at the image of a much younger Helena, who glanced at the camera and possibly the photographer with a much less guarded gaze than Myka was used to seeing.
"Oh?" Helena sounded only mildly curious. "Let me see."
Myka turned the picture in her hand so that Helena could see, but she was strangely reluctant to hand it over. She had already decided that this particular picture would be leaving the Warehouse with her today, stashed away in one of her many pockets.
"Oh," Helena repeated after a good look at the photo, and Myka marveled at the thought that such a small word could express so much. "Lord, I had completely forgotten this photograph even existed." She smiled softly. "This was taken the day I found out I was with child."
Myka felt jealousy course through her system. Whoever had taken this photo of a young Helena had meant a lot to her. “Did Christina’s father take this?”
Helena shook her head. “No, my dear friend Helen did.”
The expression on Helena’s face didn’t do anything to help with Myka’s jealousy. “Looks like you were close …”
Helena shot her look that was far more understanding than Myka would have liked. “Yes, Helen was a very, very dear friend back then.”
Myka growled a little. “Is that Victorian code for lover?”
Helena laughed. “Not in this case, darling, alhiugh not for lack of traing in my part,” she said, her smile still way too knowing for Myka’s taste. “Helen was too busy dating Jack the Ripper tomeven think about me.” She looked back to the photo. “We did share many of the same dreams for a better future, though, and that’s what we talked about most of the time.”
"And Christina’s father?" Myka couldn’t help asking. They had never talked about him. Had Helena been married at some point? "How did that happen then?"
Helena sighed. “Boredom? Lust?” She shrugged. “I enjoyed spending time with him, he made me laugh. But it’s not like he was a great love. Both of our interests actually lay elsewhere.”
"You would have preferred Helen?"
Helena nodded. “And he would have preferred my brother for some reason.”
Myka burst out laughing at the indignant expression on Helena’s face, and after a moment the other woman joined in.
"This can all go on the to be discarded pile," Helena said once they had calmed down.
Like hell. “I’d really like to keep it,” Myka said softly. “It’ll be the only photo of you that I have once you’re gone.” And shacked up with that guy in ordinary suburbia. Myka had no idea how that was supposed to work because if she knew one thing for sure it was that H.G. Wells did not belong in suburbia with its soccer moms and minivans. That life was too ordinary for an extraordinary woman like H.G. who had influenced millions over the course of two centuries.
Helena’s eyes wandered over Myka’s face, cataloguing the different expressions. When her eyes met Myka’s, she nodded curtly. “If it means that much to you, you’re welcome to it,” she said softly before turning away to busy herself with another of the many, many boxes.
Myka could have sworn she heard Helena swallow. Hard.