Chapter Text
The knock resonated through the air, not just a mere tap but a forceful slam - BAM BAM BAM - that startled Myka from her peaceful reverie, causing her to bolt upright in bed, the novel she had been immersed in slipping from her grasp.
Beside her, H.G. was suddendly knocked off her slumber by the noise, her head nestled comfortably against Myka's shoulder. With a resigned sigh that seemed to echo a world of unspoken irritation, Myka set the book down on the nightstand.
Before either of them could gather their bearings or utter a single word, the door burst open, flung wide with a theatrical swish that sent a gust of air swirling into the room.
“Okay- okay okay okay- don’t freak out- BUT I NEED HELP- GIRL HELP- RIGHT NOW- EMERGENCY- MOVE OVER- OH GOD-”
Claudia charged into the room like a raccoon caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, her wild, tousled hair flopping about. Her cheeks were flushed a bright crimson, reminiscent of a ripe apple, which made it clear to Myka and H.G. that something was seriously wrong - she was not just her usual hyperactive self.
Myka blinked in bewilderment. “Claudia… did you- did you even knock?”
“No time for technicalities! I’m in the middle of a situation! A meltdown, a catastrophe, a crisis of EPIC Shakespearean proportions, and if Artie or Steve or Pete finds out, I swear I’ll die and haunt this building for eternity!”
H.G., slowly transitioning to a more alert posture, her arms now folded neatly, regarded Claudia with a blend of amusement and curiosity. “What happened? Is there a ping? Could it be an Artifact of some sort?”
“I WISH IT WERE AN ARTIFACT! I CAN HANDLE ARTIFACTS! THIS- THIS IS WORSE!”
Claudia dramatically grasped both Myka’s and H.G.’s hands, her wide eyes brimming with an urgency that seemed to pulse in the room.
“I… I think... I have a crush.”
Myka’s expression softened in an instant, melting into a tender smile. “Claude, that’s so-”
“ON LEENA.”
Silence enveloped the room, thick and heavy as realisation settled in.
Myka’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, while H.G.’s face brightened with delight, as if she had just unearthed the secret of time travelling again.
“Oh,” Myka finally managed.
“Oh!” H.G. echoed, delighted.
Claudia began to pace the room. “And she smiled at me today! You know, the Leena smile. The one that feels like it’s looking straight into your SOUL! Then, she touched my arm after I dropped a jar, and I swear my entire nervous system short-circuited! My knees turned into jello for three whole seconds!”
Her pacing quickened, a whirlwind of emotions swirling around her.
“And now I can’t go downstairs because she’s THERE, and I’m like this-” she gestured dramatically at her frazzled self “, and I need advice from the resident lesbians because I absolutely refuse to ask Artie or Pete or Steve about this.”
Myka halted, her mind racing. “Uh- well-”
H.G. smiled sweetly, her eyes glinting. “Thank you, darling. We accept the title.”
Claudia flopped onto their bed like a marionette with severed strings, groaning.
“I don’t know what to do! Should I talk to her? Avoid her forever? Write her a poem? Or should I just pack my bags and move to Chile?”
Myka settled beside her. “No Chile. We can figure this out together.”
H.G. joined, patting Claudia’s shin comfortingly. “And no versifying. Take my word upon this matter.”
Claudia buried her face in her hands, her muffled voice barely a whisper. “I hate this. Why do crushes turn me into a malfunctioning toaster?”
H.G. exchanged a knowing look with Myka, who was trying not to chuckle at Claudia's dramatic display.
“Because that,” H.G. mused, “means it matters.”
Claudia peeked through her fingers, her eyes wide with reluctant understanding. “…that sucks.”
Myka nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, it really does.”
With a dramatic sigh, Claudia slumped further onto the bed, her head tilting back as if the weight of her emotions might just overpower her. Myka and H.G. exchanged amused glances, each struggling to suppress their laughter as Claudia groaned into her hands.
“I don’t know if I can handle this,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “I mean, I was perfectly fine dealing with all the other bizarre stuff we’ve faced, but this… this is different. This is… real human feelings, not just some mystical artifact hosting a ghost every other Tuesday.”
H.G. raised a bemused eyebrow. “What gives you the notion this is any different, Claudia?”
“Because this... this is personal!” Claudia exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air as if attempting to emphasise the gravity of her situation. “It’s not like when I confront an artifact. I have to actually talk to her! Maybe glance at her. And possibly, oh god, touch her? What if I freak her out?”
Myka leaned in, her tone gentle and genuine. “Trust me; we’ve all been there.”
Claudia looked up as if Myka had just revealed a groundbreaking truth. “Wait, you have? But, like, with each other, right? So, who made the first move? Was it you, Myka? Or H.G.?” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, the panic still evident in her gaze. “You’ve been married for almost six years. Everyone in the Warehouse attended your wedding, Pete cried, Artie pretended not to cry, and even Mrs. Frederic officiated it! There must have been some catalyst that brought the two of you together. Someone had to do something, right?”
H.G. raised a hand delicately, ready to interject.
“I don't believe you are giving combustion a fair chance. At times, it may prove to be rather romantic in nature-”
“H.G.! This is a matter of life or death!” Claudia interjected fiercely, her eyes ablaze.
Myka stifled a laugh, covering her mouth as H.G., looking slightly offended, straightened her posture.
“Claudia,” Myka said softly, yet assuredly, “just talk to her. Be honest. Keep it straightforward.”
“Right! Yes. Simple. Just talk. Words. Human communication. Perfect. Love that. Except I can’t. I turn into static the moment she looks at me like, well, you know, Leena.”
Myka, determined to help, offered a soothing smile. “Start small. Compliment her. Ask how her day was. Maybe even help her out in the kitchen.”
Claudia nodded slowly.
“Okay. I’m gonna do this. I’m gonna be normal. I can be normal. Watch me be normal.”
Myka nodded approvingly. “You’ve got this.”
Helena, however, leaned back on her hands, looking like a proud mother.
“Rest assured, darling girl, all shall be well. Leena adores you.”
Claudia groaned again, her cheeks flushing, but this time with a small smile. She squared her shoulders, breathed deeply, and marched decisively to the bedroom door. Then she froze.
“What if she’s downstairs right now? What if she’s making tea? What if I go down there and she says ‘hi Claudia’ in that soft voice she has, and I just melt into a puddle on the rug?”
“That is a possibility,” Helena said helpfully.
“H.G.!”
Helena just beamed.
Myka cut in before Claudia could hyperventilate.
“Claudia? You don’t have to do it right now. Start with practice.”
Claudia nodded, relieved.
“Practice. Yes. Okay. Good. Practice.”
Myka patted her shoulder. “You’ll be great.”
H.G. added, “And if you're nervous, recollect that Myka once endeavoured to flirt by reciting the numbers of the inventory.’’
Myka turned ten shades of mortified.
Claudia gasped. “No. Way.”
“WAY,” H.G. said proudly.
Claudia grinned, energised again.
Myka and Helena shared a fleeting glance, their eyes sparkling with unspoken understanding, and then turned to Claudia, their faces lighting up with warm smiles that radiated genuine affection for the young girl. Affection, pride.
The door slammed shut, leaving the room suddenly quiet.
Myka leaned back against the pillows, exhaling. “She’s going to be fine.”
H.G. smiled, eyes distant but warm. “Yes,” she agreed. “And if not… well.”
Myka glanced at her. “Well?”
Helena’s smile turned knowing.
“Crushes are rarely graceful. But they are always memorable.”
Myka laughed softly and reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together as they settled back into the calm - both of them listening, just faintly, for the sound of footsteps in the hallway… and hoping, fiercely, for a smile.