moonshadows

"Hey Artie, I-" Claudia stopped short as she saw who was standing at the small stove in the Warehouse office. "Sorry, James."

The tall, thin man turned with a smile, one arm out for the hug Claudia came forward to give anyway. "Quite all right. Good morning, child. Tea?"

"I'll put milk in it," she warned.

"I'll forgive you." He poured two mugs and brought them to the table. "Now, do you need Arthur urgently, or is it something I can help with while I enjoy my tea?"

Claudia wrapped her hands around the mug. "Well...it's about Christmas."

"Ah." James sipped his tea once, then regretfully pulled the thimble from his pinky. "You can't have a pony," Artie said.

"I don't want a pony." She rolled her eyes as the older man laughed. "I have Lucy, why would I want a pony?"

Artie laughed again. "I don't have an answer for that." His expression flickered a few times while he explained Lucy, and Claudia tried to guess how that went from the faces he was making. "So, Christmas?"

"I just got an email from Grandpa Izzy. He wants to know if it will be safe to visit, if Aunt Jane will be there, and if you're inviting your quote-unquote lady friend."

Face in his hands, Artie groaned. "It's an even year. Dr. Calder is spending Christmas with her family, as are the Lattimers. As for whether it's safe..."

She waited while what must have been a fierce internal debate raged, taking the opportunity to dose her tea with milk and sugar.

"Yeah," he said finally, "tell Dad it's safe but don't tell him about James. We'll break things to him slowly. Maybe - maybe - James will introduce himself. Probably not. I-it's been a while since he had family to be around."

Claudia set her tea on the counter. "Aw, Uncle." In the time it took her to cross the office, Artie relinquished control and James used the thimble to reclaim his own shape. "You're part of my family," she assured him as she leaned over to give him a hug. "I've even got a present for you, which I'll give you when Grandpa Izzy's not around."

"Such a dear child you are. I think you're the only one who actually likes me," he murmured, resigned. "Aside from Arthur, that is."

"Leena doesn't mind seeing you. Steve just thinks it's weird, although the thimble makes it better."

"Yes, but Agents Bering and Lattimer are most uncomfortable being reminded of my presence..."

"...and you only feel comfortable coming out in the Warehouse when they're not around." It wasn't a new development, and it nagged at her that there was this conflict in her family.

"Arthur says that's your plotting look. He called you a devil child and demanded to know what you were planning." James sounded amused by this.

Pleased with herself, Claudia reclaimed her tea and sat back down. "Too bad; he'll have to wait and see. Hey, do you want to talk to Josh sometime?"

The idea clearly pleased James. "That would be lovely. Does he, erm, know about...?"

"He knows you were Artie's partner," she said slowly, "and that you did some shitty things with good intentions. I was vague about what happened to you both because of the Regents and because I already had plans to pull you out. I only talk to him about Warehouse stuff when he's here in person, so he doesn't know anything about the astrolabe at all. We have video chats twice a month; I could have the next one here. He knows not to talk about Warehouse stuff, so it can just be a student catching up with his professor." She took a long drink of her tea and added, "I don't think I ever thanked you for getting him that position at CERN, but thank you."

James looked faintly anguished. "Arthur blames himself for what happened to Joshua, but it was I who gave him the compass and I who planned to use both of you in my scheme to gain access to the Warehouse. The ten years he spent lost is my fault, and even though I arranged for him to be accepted for my own convenience, I am glad I did it. I would be quite content to speak to him as Professor Reynolds, thank you."

Claudia drained her mug. "And he will be thrilled to have someone to talk to that actually understands all the things he does. Next Saturday, four in the afternoon, and I'll go email Grandpa Izzy back." She gave him another hug as she stood, then returned her mug to the small kitchen area.

"Claudia."

One hand on the umbilicus door, she stopped.

"Why did you come all the way out here to ask when you could easily have used the Farnsworth?"

She arched one eyebrow at him. "Because I can't hug through the Farnsworth. Duh."

James's quiet, rare laughter followed her out.

=========================

The plan went off like clockwork.

Artie met her at the back door in the early hours of the morning and pressed a bowl into her hands. “It’s ready,” he said quietly.

“And you had James…?”

“James and I both used the artifact.”

Claudia smiled broadly – and evilly. “Goooood. See you for lunch.”

As the pudgy man faded back into the dusky garden, she brought the bowl into the kitchen and handed it to Leena. “It’s been prepared.”

Leena grinned back with a hint of superior amusement. “I’ve got the everything set; give me twenty minutes.”

A nod, and the younger woman used all her stealth to sneak up the stairs without making them creak. Steve was waiting just inside the barely-open door to his room, eye pressed to the crack. As she passed, she gave him a thumbs-up. Once she reached her room at the end of the hallway (and up half a flight of stairs, which she’d loved ever since she was a child), he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist and another slung over his shoulder.

“I’m taking a shower,” he called out, rapping first on Pete’s door and then on Myka’s. “Speak now or forever hold your pee!”

Pete burst out of his room first, charging straight into the bathroom and leaving Myka to hover impatiently outside the door while trying not to make eye contact with her mostly-naked coworker. Claudia counted five minutes before Lattimer emerged, one while Myka made faces and opened the window and waved a hand towel, and three for her to emerge and nod to Steve that it was safe for him to shower. Through the grate in the floor of her bedroom, the first delicious hints wafted up. Ten minutes down, ten to go. It took them another four minutes to get dressed enough for breakfast, if not for being in public, and wander downstairs. Claudia abandoned her post by the door and lay by the grate instead, listening for all she was worth.

“Wow, Leena, that smells fantastic! What is it?”

“Thank you, Myka. I’m trying my hand at scones. I hope you and Pete are hungry!”

“Oh, we’re hungry.”

“This is only the test batch, Pete, so I would appreciate if you and Myka could focus on them and let me know what you think. Taste, texture, everything.”

“You can count on us! Uh…when do they get out of the oven, and do we have to save any for Steve and Claudia?”

Mingled laughter. “Test batches are free-for-all. They should be done in- oh, there’s my timer.”

Metal clattered to the chorus of appreciative sounds. Plates rattled. Pete protested being hit for taking half of them and Myka claimed the last two “To make sure you don’t eat them all, since Steve’s in the shower and Claudia won’t be up for another hour.” Then footsteps as they scurried out to eat in the sunroom.

In the bathroom, the water shut off. A few minutes later, a flushed and damply clean Steve Jinks emerged. Claudia sauntered down the hall.

“It worked,” she said quietly. “They took them all and they’re eating. Now all we have to do is stay out of sight for the next half an hour.”

“So,” he asked just a shade too casually, “how’d Artie do it?”

“He used an artifact.”

“I guessed that, but which one?”

“The same one he uses when he makes oatmeal scotchies.”

“Which is…?”

“Something I’m still not telling you.” She grinned up at him, unrepentant. “Don’t even bother with the gay puppy eyes. Not even Leena knows which one it is. It’s our secret.”

“Meanie,” he complained unconvincingly, and flounced into his room.

Laughing, Claudia retreated to her bedroom where she flopped into bed and pulled out her Farnsworth. "The early birds got the worm," she announced cheerfully when Artie answered. "And now we wait."

"You are an evil, evil child," he mock-scolded, the right corner of his mouth twitching to hide his grin.

She laughed again. "I know. But I use my powers for good. I'm gonna wait half an hour and then see if Leena will make me chocolate-chip pancakes. Oh, and ten bucks says it's Myka, in the Warehouse."

"You're on," he growled good-naturedly. "My money is on Pete, in the sunroom. James says both of them at once, in the living room."

"Wait..." Claudia sat up. "How does that work if he has no money?"

"I have plenty of money," Artie announced loftily in James's cadences. "Assuming the Regents, in their infinite wis- yes, Arthur, I know they've gotten better - wisdom did not locate my various accounts, I have enough money to live on quite comfortably for the rest of my life. What I don't have is a body, but thankfully my physical presence is not necessarily required for withdrawals."

"So you have hypothetical money." She grinned sharply. "You always did know how to challenge me, Uncle."

Artie's face looked momentarily distressed, and then he laughed with James's quiet chuckle. "Don't clean me out entirely, child. Leave me at least half of what you find. Some of us have retirements to plan for."

"Ten percent finder's fee," she teased. "Talk to you both later."

=========================

The umbilicus door whooshed open and Myka's hesitant voice said, "Hey, Artie?"

At his computer, without turning around, he answered, "Yes?"

"Can I...talk to James?"

It's a good thing Claudia is researching my accounts, because I appear to owe you both ten dollars.

Not me, not until Pete makes his move.

We shall see, partner.

Artie reached for the thimble and when he turned around, it was MacPherson's lean frame sitting in the chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Agent Bering?"

"I owe you an apology," she said bluntly. "I didn't want to give you the benefit of the doubt because of the things you did to Artie, and to Leena, and the mind games you played with Pete and me. You tried to tear us apart as a team, you murdered people, you threatened my parents and almost sold artifacts to enemy nations and I had a hard time seeing you as anything but someone who deserved to be bronzed for eternity." She took a deep breath, gaze anywhere but on him. "But because of your...interference...I have a better relationship with my folks than I've ever had before, and Artie opened up to us. I can look at your actions and see that they were intended to look horrible and threatening but for the most part...not cause much real damage. Artie obviously trusted you to not kill him, and he was right. At the time, I thought he was being irrational and he just got lucky." Myka gave a nervous, breathy laugh. "Now, after dealing with Pete for four years, I know what it's like to be able to think like your partner, and how deep that bond goes. I can only imagine what it’s like for you and Artie, having been partnered for fifteen."

James gave her a faint smile. “I won’t deny that the things I did were not befitting a Warehouse agent, and while the intentions were good, the end does not justify the means. I was laboring under a misconception. If I had known then what I know now…” He sighed, not bothering to hide his regret. “I would have worked to regain Arthur’s trust enough to make my apologies to him rather than seeking to infiltrate the Warehouse. I have been given a second chance, the opportunity to do something useful with my life and repair some of the damage I caused.” Suddenly, he looked startled. “Really?” he murmured. “You were aware of that…I should have known. The eggshell bomb was inert,” he said, louder. “It would not have gone off under any circumstance.”

Myka visibly relaxed, laughing nervously. “I thought that was a possibility, because you had everything else planned out, but I didn’t want to take the risk.”

Another internal prodding; James looked discomfited. “The Ripper’s lantern would not have killed your parents,” he said heavily. “I misled you on the way that particular artifact worked. As I’ve said, I needed to be seen as a threat big enough to be bronzed.”

“Claudia said you watched her when she was little?” Myka pulled out the other chair and sat.

“She was a clever child,” he replied fondly. “A good thing her brother couldn’t send her to school, because no public school could have done her young mind any good. I tutored her as much as she needed, which for the most part consisted of pointing her in the direction of a specific book. I daresay that by the time Arthur adopted her, she could have skipped several grades.” A momentary, listening look. “He says she did just that; he had her homeschooled and she tested straight into seventh grade. Does she still…?” A surprisingly warm smile spread across his face. “She does. She still has the laptop I gave her for Christmas. The university librarians were growing…less and less tolerant of having her in their domain, and I couldn’t bear to see a mind like hers going to waste. In retrospect,” he said thoughtfully, “my generosity may have borne the seeds of my own redemption. Without her computer skill, I would not have existed as a hologram to help her out-think my compromised partner and could not have been used to keep his mind from tearing itself apart.”

Soberly, Myka asked, “Do you ever regret doing that and destroying any chance you could have had to live your own life?”

Bitter laughter answered her. “I had my own life, Agent Bering, and if you will pardon the phrase, I cocked it up. There’s nothing I could have accomplished with my own body that I can’t do with Arthur’s, and I would have gladly died to keep him from doing so. No, the single most useful thing I have ever done with my life is to be his partner. He means more to me than anyone else ever has, even Carol Augustine.”

“You used her,” she accused softly.

He didn’t try to deny it. “I did. She rejected me almost immediately after I killed to save her life, but Arthur…dear Arthur never wavered in his faith that I was still out there, somewhere. He knew, on the strength of a discarded antacid roll, that I had not only left it there to be found but also was the one behind the theft of the Honjo Masamune. No one else believed I was even still alive, not even Mrs. Frederic. Carol was my wife, ‘til death do us part, but she didn’t wait that long. It would take more than mere death to make me abandon Arthur.”

A long moment of scrutiny, and then Myka nodded. “Alright. I think we’re okay now. I can see you as ‘Artie’s partner’ or ‘the man who looked after Claudia’ and not ‘the man who put a bomb in Artie’s mouth and threatened my parents’. Can I talk to Artie again?”

“Thank you, and certainly.” The thimble came off and Artie gave her a curious look.

“I’m sorry I made you feel torn between us and him,” she blurted. “It had to feel like by rejecting him, I was rejecting you, and I didn’t stop to think about that.”

Spontaneously, they both stood and hugged, friendship restored.

“So,” she said as they stepped back, “how did you do that? I know it was the scones.”

Artie laughed. “You won’t get my secret ingredient out of me that easily. As for the execution…that was all Claudia’s plan, go talk to her.”

“I’ll do that.” Myka smiled shyly. “Thanks for letting me talk, both of you.”

I’ve lost the bet, old friend, James said silently as she left. Even if Pete makes his move in the living room, I specified both at once.

“I owed you ten dollars close to twenty years ago,” he replied lightly. “They cancel out.”

Silently, James laughed.