How Was the Play? (complete)
All three parts of my fanfic were originally posted to artie_claudia .
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Title: How Was the Play?
Pairings: Artie/Claudia (first-time romantic)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding Warehouse 13.
Note: The item I use as an artifact in this story is a real object.
Part 1:
Claudia hated the purple gloves. They were a pain to get on, her fingers weren't as nimble in them, and she especially hated that her hands were so dry she could feel the skin on her knuckles crack if she wore them too long. "Old man will have even more of a coronary if I don't wear them, though", she mumbled to herself, sighing in resignation at the thought of Artie yelling at her for her carelessness as well as her impatience as she tugged on a pair of purple gloves before opening any of the many small boxes that had arrived at the B&B that morning from the Museum of Fine Arts. The boxes were now in a loose pile on a table in the Warehouse office.
She was alone, Artie having left to take a report to his courier and Pete and Myka on a mission to bring back breakfast for the four of them; since there were so many boxes, Artie had made the four of them come in early and start cataloging all the new artifacts. Artie hadn't wanted to leave the Warehouse unattended so he left Claudia there, and she chuckled to herself at the memory of what he had said when he left:
"Claudia," Artie said, pointing at her as he opened the office door, "No touch," pointing his finger at the pile of boxes.
"Aww, are you serious?! I have to wait for you guys--"
"Claudia!" Artie snapped, lowering his head to look at her over his spectacles in a way that made her spine tingle in a non-unpleasant way, "I mean it. No. Touch."
"But--"
"No touch!" Artie said as he walked out of the office, the door latching behind him with a hydraulic hiss. Claudia listened until she thought he was gone and then tiptoed closer to the table to get a closer look at the boxes. The door flew open causing Claudia to yelp in surprise. Artie's head poked into the office, a smug look on his face for having caught her. "I mean it!"
"Alright already, geez!" Claudia said, plopping down in a nearby chair, annoyed at both having to wait and Artie catching her in the act. "You win, I'll be good. Just hurry up already, will you?" she said, making shooing motions towards the door. Artie grinned at her, smug that he had gotten one on her. "I'll be back before you know it, o impatient one." He outright laughed when Claudia threw a pencil at him as he ducked back out of the door.
Claudia's brow was furrowed with annoyance as she tried opening the first box she chose. Her gloves kept getting in her way by sticking to the tape. She tried another box, but her gloved fingers weren't able to grasp the edges of the box top open it. Her luck wasn't any better with the third box, and she was running out of time. Claudia almost resigned herself to the image of Artie being insufferably pleased with himself when he came back and saw no open boxes when a fourth box caught her eye. It was smaller than the others and had a sad, defeated look to it. The box slipped out of Claudia's hands and back onto the table when she tried picking up. "Damn purple gloves," she hissed, and took them off.
Claudia knew better than to handle an artifact bare-handed, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She picked up the small box, smiling when her fingers were able to remove the tape sealing it shut. When she opened the lid, a small gasp escaped her lips. "Oh wow," she said reverently, dazzled by the item inside. "It's--it's beautiful." Reaching into the box with her naked hands, she picked up a small golden brooch covered in diamonds. The brooch was square, with a circle inside the square. A large diamond nested in the middle of the circle, surrounded by a group of smaller diamonds which filled the circle. Four points came off the circle and went out to the four corners of the square, each with its own large diamond, and between the four points were four semicircles overlapping the sides of the square, each with a large diamond as well. Dazzled by the artifact, she didn't notice the blackness spreading over her eyes, the Warehouse fading from her vision, the edges of the office going dark with spreading shadows. When the darkness completely overtook her and the whites and irises of her eyes turned turned completely black, there were no alarms in her mind, no warnings of impending doom, no inner voice whisperings that something just might be wrong; there was only Claudia on the floor screaming, alone in the office, hopelessly lost in an artifact.
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Artie raced down the road in his Jag on his way back from the courier drop. He was nervous; the encounter had taken longer than expected, and he wanted to get back to Claudia. What was I thinking, leaving her alone? In the Warehouse of all places? He took a deep breath, both hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Steady yourself, Arthur," he said, adjusting his hand placement and reducing his speed. "Claudia is fine, and the last thing she needs is you dead in a car wreck." He thought of the way she nearly cried after HG shot him. Up until that point, he hadn't realized just how much his young apprentice cared for him. He had caught himself thinking about sex with Claudia before, and how feeling her nakedness against him would make him complete, but he had just ignored it as as wishful thinking; a hormonal fantasy. He was old, but he was still male after all. Claudia had had such a strong reaction to his not being there anymore though, and Artie had felt such an overwhelming urge to comfort her that he began to doubt the hormonal fantasy explanation and wonder if he was actually in love with her. "Doesn't matter if you are, old man," he growled to himself, slowly shaking his head. "She needs way better than you." Artie was so lost in his reverie that he jumped when his Farnsworth buzzed, nearly swerving off the road. He pulled over, his hands shaking as he dug into his bag to answer the call. "Talk to me."
Myka's face filled the screen, her eyes wide with fear. "Artie! Where the hell are you?"
Artie gave her a withering scowl; he didn't enjoy being sworn at. "I'm on my way back to the Warehouse. Where, pray tell, are you?"
Pete's scared face came into view as he peered into his Farnsworth's screen. "You need to get back here ASAP, Artie. Claudia got into one of the boxes from the Museum, and whatever was inside got her."
Artie felt his heart jump to his throat. In an even voice that was meant to calm himself more than Pete and Myka, he said, "Show me."
Myka turned the Farnsworth around and pointed the screen towards Claudia, and Artie's mouth dropped open when he saw the state she was in. Claudia was laying on the floor in front of the couch, curled up on her right side as small as she could make herself. She was whimpering and sobbing, her face buried in her knees. She jerked her head up and cocked it to one side, apparently listening to something. Claudia sat up, giving Artie his first clear glimpse at her face, and he could see that both of her eyes were black, shiny orbs. She continued to listen to a sound only she could hear, her mouth dropping in horror. "What?" she finally whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "What? No, no it's not true, it's not true! No no no no no no...."
Myka yelled, "Pete, grab her, it's starting again!" as Claudia began screaming. Artie's heart broke when he saw Claudia's face collapse as she screamed, "Artie's dead! Artie's dead! Artie's dead!" over and over.
Myka's face reappeared on Artie's Farnsworth. "Artie," she whispered, fear making her voice shake, "Hurry." Artie closed his Farnsworth, dropped it onto the passenger's seat, put the Jag back into gear, and drove back to the Warehouse as fast as he ever had.
Part 2:
Claudia sat on the couch in the Warehouse office, and she had no idea how she got there. Probably some weird transporting artifact or something, she thought. "Well," she sighed, shifting her weight to get up, "Might as well finish what I was doing..."
She stopped, her brows furrowed in confusion. What had she been doing? She remembered getting up extra early to come to the Warehouse, but she couldn't remember why. When she searched her memory for clues, she realized she didn't even remember walking into the office door, let alone sitting on the couch. She began walking around the office looking for anything that would tell her why and how she was there. When she got to Artie's desk, it was covered in boxes, hundreds of little boxes, each one tied with an elegant black bow.
"Artie?" she called, her voice sounding strangely small. "What's with all the little boxes, dude? Artie?" Her only answer was silence. "Artie!" she called louder, her voice echoing. She turned her head this way and that, trying to hear if Artie responded to her, but she heard nothing after her echoes faded. "Well, this is a little freaky," Claudia said, her voice the only defense she had against the thundering silence. She looked around the office a little more, and having found nothing else out of the ordinary, she turned her attention back to Artie's desk and the hundreds of little boxes.
The boxes were all identical, so she picked one up at random and shook it near her ear. Something rattled softly inside, so she undid the black bow and removed the lid. When Claudia looked into the box, all she found was a shiny penny. What the... She was about to go for a second box when she noticed something odd about the penny she held, so she went to her desk and pulled out a magnifying glass to get a better look. She gasped when she saw it wasn't Lincoln on the coin, it was Artie. Looking closer, she let out a small "oh" when she saw that Artie's eye was closed and he had a bullet hole in his head.
Voices began to flow into the office, hundreds of them, all talking and saying nothing. "What?" She turned her head around, trying to hear the conversation. "What?"
The walls of the office began to shake, morphing into the sanctuary of a large cathedral. Hundreds of people were talking to her in hushed voices, offering their condolences and sympathies, barely masking their gratitude that it wasn't their loved one dead in the box far up front. Claudia began to walk against the flow of the crowd, getting closer to the display, wanting to know who died, pleading with every deity who might listen that it wasn't Artie. When she was finally able to look inside the hateful box, she pleaded with the universe, "No, no, it's not true, it's not true! No no no no no no...."
Never again tease him. Never again hug him. Never try to kiss him. Never get to make love to him. The phrases cycled themselves in her mind over and over, getting louder with each repetition until Claudia was screaming. That's why she had gotten up so early this morning; she had had to get ready for Artie's funeral. "Artie's dead! Artie's dead! Artie's dead!" She tried to run away from the scene, to get anywhere but here, but the crowd held her in, forcing her to look into the hateful box, her grief slicing through her soul, screaming, screaming, always screaming--
Claudia sat on the couch in the Warehouse office, and she had no idea how she got there. Probably some weird transporting artifact or something, she thought. "Well," she sighed, shifting her weight to get up, "Might as well finish what I was doing..."
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Artie slammed on the brakes, parking his Jag at an angle as he slid to a stop. He grabbed his bag and Farnsworth, launched out of the driver's seat, and ran into the Warehouse. "Why couldn't she just leave those damn boxes alone?" panted Artie as he huffed and puffed his way down the corridor. "I'm going to kill her." If she lives through this. The first stabs of real fear hit him as he approached the office door; he could already hear Claudia screaming his name. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for how she would look.
It was worse than he anticipated. Claudia was back on the floor, knees drawn up. Her eyes were still black, blood-red tears ran down her face, and she had a nosebleed. Artie muttered, "Oh dear God," and shot a questioning glance at Pete who was sitting beside her. Pete shook his head. "It wasn't me, Artie. Claudia cried so hard she burst some capillaries in her face." Artie cautiously stepped closer to them, his eyes never wavering from Claudia. "Have your or Myka found out what in God's name did this to her?"
Myka appeared wearing purple gloves and holding a small golden brooch. "We think this is it, Artie. It was on the floor beside Claudia when we found her, and it's the only thing not accounted for in the boxes." Myka paused.
"Well, what is it?" Artie asked impatiently, the irony not lost on him that he sounded like Claudia.
"Artie, this is Mary Todd Lincoln's brooch. She had it on when President Lincoln was assassinated." Myka paused again.
"For God's sake, Myka, tell him," Pete said, his voice shaking as he held onto Claudia to keep her from running away again.
"Tell me what, Myka." Artie's voice was flat and full of fear and venom, not liking the feeling that something was very very wrong.
"Artie, we've already dipped the brooch and neutralized it. Claudia's condition didn't change, and we have no idea what to do."
Part 3:
Artie winced as he knelt down on the floor in order to inspect Claudia. He had to see first-hand what was going on if he was going to be of any use to her. Using a moist cloth Myka had gotten for him, he began wiping Claudia's face, his hands as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt her more. Pete and Myka shot a glance at each other, surprised by the loving expression on Artie's face as he cleaned the blood from her cheeks and nose. He crooned to her softly, shushing her sobs with a tender voice he hadn't used in a long time. Pete looked away, slightly embarrassed, feeling that he was somehow intruding on a very private moment.
Myka sat up abruptly, a look of realization crossing her face. "Pete, I know why neutralizing the artifact didn't stop Claudia from cycling through her nightmare over and over."
Pete looked up at Myka after he made sure Claudia was stable for the moment. "OK Myka, spill it."
"Alright, follow me on this. Mary Todd Lincoln was suspected of having bipolar disorder. She went through highs and lows and back to highs, a constant cycle. Claudia is caught in a constant cycle right now. I think we need to find some way to connect with her, to shock her out of this cycle, in order to bring her back."
Pete nodded in agreement. "Makes sense to me. You have an idea on how to shock her out of it?"
It was Myka's turn to nod in agreement. "I do. I think Artie should kiss her."
Both Artie and Pete stammered, staring at Myka in disbelief. Artie was the first to speak. "Kiss her?!"
Myka's eyes widened, her hands held out in front of her in a defensive posture. "Artie, just follow me here, OK? Look, Mary Todd Lincoln lost her husband that day, the person she loved the most. Maybe this artifact makes the person affected by it constantly relive the death of the person they love the most."
Artie turned towards Pete for support, thinking Myka's idea was crazy. He was stunned to find that Pete was looking at him in a very thoughtful and calculated manner. "Artie," Pete spoke softly, "Have you ever seen the way Claudia looks at you?"
Artie's brows knit together in confusion. "The way she looks at me?"
Pete nodded slowly. "She's in love with you, man."
Artie sputtered in disbelief. "Pete, she's not in love with me. I'm three times her age--"
"Oh stop it, Artie," Myka said. "Stop using your age as a crutch. She's in love with you, and it's blatantly obvious that you feel the same way about her. When you were cleaning up Claudia just now, you would not believe the look of pure love that was on your face." Pete nodded in agreement.
Artie's mouth formed a thin line, and he looked at Pete and Myka over his spectacles, one eyebrow raised. "Now look. We don't even know for sure how this artifact works. There has to be a way to break Claudia out of this cycle, but kissing her, when she's unconscious, is not the answer!"
Claudia stirred in Artie's arms, a puzzled look on her face. "What? What? No, it's not true, It's not true!" she yelled, her voice cracked and rough from all the screaming. "No no no no no no......"
Artie held Claudia tightly as red tears began falling down her face. He looked up helplessly at Pete and Myka. Myka nodded to Artie, a small smile on her face. "Artie, please. Kiss her."
Artie closed his eyes, bowing to the inevitable. He concentrated on his feelings for Claudia, and focusing them in a single thought, he leaned forward and kissed her. When he pulled back, he was met by black eyes. Nothing happened.
"See? I told you--"
Pete threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jesus Artie, what are you, twelve? Don't just put your lips on her mouth; kiss her."
Artie turned to look at Claudia and saw that she was opening her mouth to scream his name. Before she could utter a sound, Artie focused his love, his caring, and his passion for this wild redhead, and, leaning down, connected his lips to hers, a gentle pressure that he almost let up on when suddenly she was kissing him back, her arms around his neck, pulling herself to him. His arms went around her, holding her to him as if it were most natural thing in the world. He had never felt so complete, so connected, as he was at this moment.
Claudia broke the kiss first. She looked at him, her eyes still black and shiny as obsidian. When she spoke, her voice had an eerie quality to it, like there were two of her speaking at the same time. "Artie? Artie, is it really you? You're not dead?"
Artie tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. "I'm not dead, Claudia. I'm right here with you, as long as you'll have me."
Claudia began to shake, her head thrown back as a massive seizure wracked her body. Artie almost let her go, but Myka stopped him, putting a hand on his arm and shaking her head. Artie nodded, tears in his eyes, as he held Claudia close to him, hugging her as the dark energy pulled itself from her body. Claudia threw back her head and let out one last scream, terrible and damning and sad, and went limp in Artie's arms. He laid her form down on the couch, taking great care to make sure her head was well-supported and that she had a blanket. When he turned around, he saw that both Pete and Myka were crying,
Pete spoke first, his voice soft. "Artie, that sound...."
Myka nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "I don't think I've ever heard anything so full of despair."
Artie took off his spectacles and sat down wearily, pinching his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "We all need rest after this." He looked up at Pete and Myka. "You two head back to Leena's and take the rest of the day off. Understood?"
Pete and Myka nodded mutely as they headed out the door. Artie looked down at a sleeping Claudia, grateful that when the artifact's dark energy left her it had the decency to heal the physical damage it had done to the capillaries in her face. He wanted to talk with her when she woke up, though; he didn't think for a second that the artifact had healed the emotional wounds it caused. Artie scooped Claudia into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as he carried her to his room. They both needed rest, his bed was big enough for two, and he wanted to be close to her in case she needed him.
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Claudia stretched, extending her arms and legs until her joints nearly popped. She settled herself back to how she was laying and sighed; she had never been on so comfortable bed in all her life. Wait a minute, she thought to herself, a bed?
Claudia opened her eyes and sat up to have a look around the room. Where the hell am I?
She whipped her head to her left as a soft snore came from a pile of blankets beside her. When she leaned over to see who it was, she spied an unruly mop of salt and pepper curls. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Holy cow, I'm in Artie's room! Damn, he has a nice mattress. She leaned away from him, putting her head back down on the pillow. What the frack am I doing in Artie's room? In his bed, no less! Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to remember, wanting some explanation as to why on earth she was where she was. The next moment, she wished she hadn't tried so hard; watery tears spilled from Claudia's eyes as the her memories crashed into her, each one feeling like a kick to the stomach. She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb Artie as the memories of grief, loss, and overwhelming despair scraped through her mind.
Artie awoke instantly, throwing off his blankets as he turned over to see what was happening to Claudia. He saw her shaking form and could hear her ragged sobbing. He felt for her so much; more than one artifact had left him an emotional wreck. She was turned toward him, so he simply scooted over to her and pulled her to his chest. Her crying eased after awhile, and Artie became aware that she was saying something under her breath over and over. When he listened, he heard her raggedly whispering, "Please be real, please be real, please be real, please be real...."
Artie pulled away from her so he could see her face. He was grateful that her eyes were back to their warm brown, but he sighed when he saw how haunted they were. He was still studying her eyes when she moved closer and met his lips with hers. The sensation overwhelmed Artie's defenses, and he kissed her back, his tongue gently massaging hers. Claudia reached her hand under his shirt to run her fingers through his chest hair, and Artie growled deep in his throat when her hands ran across his sensitive nipples. She pressed into him, and he jumped when her thigh softly touched his hardness, the intense sensation snapping him back to reality. He pulled away from her, breaking their kiss.
"Claudia," he said breathlessly, his voice shaking. "We can't do this. You've just been affected by a dangerous artifact; it's not right."
Claudia put her hands on either side of Artie's face and pulled him closer until their noses almost touched. "Shut up, old man."
She kissed him gently and thoroughly, her tongue exploring his, massaging its pebbled surface. Artie reached between them and unbuttoned Claudia's shirt, running his hands over the smooth surface of her bra. He undid the hooks and opened the cups, her flesh spilling free. He ran his hands over her breasts and massaged them, softly twirling her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. When he felt her nipples get hard and the flesh get bumpy and crinkly, he broke their kiss. He looked at Claudia, a wicked grin on his face as he saw her panting from his touch.
"Claudia, did you know that the bumps on an erect female nipple have meaning?"
"They do?" she asked, barely able to concentrate.
"Mm hmm. The bumps are Braille. They mean 'suck here.' "
Claudia was barely able to utter "What?" before Artie closed his mouth on her left nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue. Her back arched in pleasure, pushing her chest into him as her head leaned back, a breathy "Uhhhhhhh....." escaping her lips. Artie licked and sucked her left and right nipples back and forth, never alternating when Claudia would expect him to, driving her wild. She finally put her hands on his head, stopping his motions. "Artie, please..."
He looked up to see the pleasure on her face, and he was startled to see that her eyes were glowing. Claudia's eyes were actually emitting light, a sharp contrast to the total darkness of before, and Artie understood how to rid her of the artifact's terrible effects. He trailed kisses down Claudia's belly, his hands working to open her belt. When Artie gently tugged on the waistband, she raised her bottom so he could more easily slide her pants and underwear down and off.
Artie nestled himself comfortably between her open legs. He rested his hands on either side of her orange fluff, and she whimpered when he used his thumbs to open her. His tongue darted out to lick her folds, reverently massaging her flesh. She cried out when his pebbled tongue touched her clit, bolts of pleasure shooting through her. He focused on her clit, licking and sucking until Claudia went over the edge, screaming his name as she came into Artie's mouth; he lapped at her core until she collapsed on the bed.
When Artie raised his head to see if she was alright, Claudia was looking at him, and he gasped at her eyes. They were so bright now they cast shadows on the wall of his bedroom. Still laying flat, she raised her arms towards him, a look of longing and hope on her face. When she spoke, her voice had the same doubled quality to it as it did when he first pulled her out of her nightmare.
"Artie, please....."
Artie stood up and quickly removed his pajamas. He knelt over Claudia, his hardness resting against her. He paused a moment, gathered himself, and slid into her heat. She bucked her hips, pulling herself up to him. Artie growled deep in his throat as he thrust into her as hard and fast as he could, his self control gone. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and just as the tingle from the base of his skull shot down his spine to set off fireworks in his balls, the light from Claudia's eyes exploded into the room, nearly blinding them both as she screamed out her orgasm.
When the light faded, Artie collapsed on the bed, completely spent. He had just enough energy left to pull an equally spent Claudia to him. As they drifted into healing sleep, Claudia whispered the words she had longed to speak for months.
"I love you, Arthur Nielsen."
Artie gently stroked her hair. "I love you too, Claudia Donovan."
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The next morning, Pete and Myka walked back into the Warehouse office, ready to finish the cataloging that had been interrupted. They stopped short when they saw Artie sitting at his desk shirtless wearing only pajama bottoms. They were about to say something when Claudia came from Artie's bedroom clad in one of his long dress shirts and nothing else. The two pairs froze when they realized they had seen one another.
Myka broke the standstill first, running to Claudia and scooping her up in a hug. "Thank goodness you're OK!"
Claudia yelped and began squirming. "Myka, put me down, put me down!"
Myka sat her down and asked, "What's the matter? Are you OK?"
"I don't have any underwear on," Claudia stated quietly.
Pete whipped his head back and forth between Artie and Claudia, understanding dawning on his face. "You," he said, looking at Claudia, "and you," he gulped, looking at Artie, "in there?" he said, pointing in the general direction of Artie's bedroom.
"Uh, yep," Artie nodded, giving a little shrug at Pete's discomfort.
"More than once," Claudia said from the back of the room.
Pete turned towards Claudia and put his hands up in a defensive posture. "OK, I did NOT need to know that."
A giggle from Myka broke the silence. Pete looked at her incredulously. "What is so funny about this?"
Myka shook her head in apology, barely containing her giggles. "A phrase my dad said to my mom a long time ago just now struck me as funny."
"Care to share it with the rest of the class, Myka?" Pete's arms were open wide, gesturing to everyone.
Myka cleared her throat and said between giggles, " 'Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?' "
A moment of silence hung in the air before Myka, Artie, and Claudia burst out laughing. Pete just smiled and shook his head.
"You're all demented, you know that, don't you?"
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Title: How Was the Play?
Pairings: Artie/Claudia (first-time romantic)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding Warehouse 13.
Note: The item I use as an artifact in this story is a real object.
Part 1:
Claudia hated the purple gloves. They were a pain to get on, her fingers weren't as nimble in them, and she especially hated that her hands were so dry she could feel the skin on her knuckles crack if she wore them too long. "Old man will have even more of a coronary if I don't wear them, though", she mumbled to herself, sighing in resignation at the thought of Artie yelling at her for her carelessness as well as her impatience as she tugged on a pair of purple gloves before opening any of the many small boxes that had arrived at the B&B that morning from the Museum of Fine Arts. The boxes were now in a loose pile on a table in the Warehouse office.
She was alone, Artie having left to take a report to his courier and Pete and Myka on a mission to bring back breakfast for the four of them; since there were so many boxes, Artie had made the four of them come in early and start cataloging all the new artifacts. Artie hadn't wanted to leave the Warehouse unattended so he left Claudia there, and she chuckled to herself at the memory of what he had said when he left:
"Claudia," Artie said, pointing at her as he opened the office door, "No touch," pointing his finger at the pile of boxes.
"Aww, are you serious?! I have to wait for you guys--"
"Claudia!" Artie snapped, lowering his head to look at her over his spectacles in a way that made her spine tingle in a non-unpleasant way, "I mean it. No. Touch."
"But--"
"No touch!" Artie said as he walked out of the office, the door latching behind him with a hydraulic hiss. Claudia listened until she thought he was gone and then tiptoed closer to the table to get a closer look at the boxes. The door flew open causing Claudia to yelp in surprise. Artie's head poked into the office, a smug look on his face for having caught her. "I mean it!"
"Alright already, geez!" Claudia said, plopping down in a nearby chair, annoyed at both having to wait and Artie catching her in the act. "You win, I'll be good. Just hurry up already, will you?" she said, making shooing motions towards the door. Artie grinned at her, smug that he had gotten one on her. "I'll be back before you know it, o impatient one." He outright laughed when Claudia threw a pencil at him as he ducked back out of the door.
Claudia's brow was furrowed with annoyance as she tried opening the first box she chose. Her gloves kept getting in her way by sticking to the tape. She tried another box, but her gloved fingers weren't able to grasp the edges of the box top open it. Her luck wasn't any better with the third box, and she was running out of time. Claudia almost resigned herself to the image of Artie being insufferably pleased with himself when he came back and saw no open boxes when a fourth box caught her eye. It was smaller than the others and had a sad, defeated look to it. The box slipped out of Claudia's hands and back onto the table when she tried picking up. "Damn purple gloves," she hissed, and took them off.
Claudia knew better than to handle an artifact bare-handed, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She picked up the small box, smiling when her fingers were able to remove the tape sealing it shut. When she opened the lid, a small gasp escaped her lips. "Oh wow," she said reverently, dazzled by the item inside. "It's--it's beautiful." Reaching into the box with her naked hands, she picked up a small golden brooch covered in diamonds. The brooch was square, with a circle inside the square. A large diamond nested in the middle of the circle, surrounded by a group of smaller diamonds which filled the circle. Four points came off the circle and went out to the four corners of the square, each with its own large diamond, and between the four points were four semicircles overlapping the sides of the square, each with a large diamond as well. Dazzled by the artifact, she didn't notice the blackness spreading over her eyes, the Warehouse fading from her vision, the edges of the office going dark with spreading shadows. When the darkness completely overtook her and the whites and irises of her eyes turned turned completely black, there were no alarms in her mind, no warnings of impending doom, no inner voice whisperings that something just might be wrong; there was only Claudia on the floor screaming, alone in the office, hopelessly lost in an artifact.
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Artie raced down the road in his Jag on his way back from the courier drop. He was nervous; the encounter had taken longer than expected, and he wanted to get back to Claudia. What was I thinking, leaving her alone? In the Warehouse of all places? He took a deep breath, both hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Steady yourself, Arthur," he said, adjusting his hand placement and reducing his speed. "Claudia is fine, and the last thing she needs is you dead in a car wreck." He thought of the way she nearly cried after HG shot him. Up until that point, he hadn't realized just how much his young apprentice cared for him. He had caught himself thinking about sex with Claudia before, and how feeling her nakedness against him would make him complete, but he had just ignored it as as wishful thinking; a hormonal fantasy. He was old, but he was still male after all. Claudia had had such a strong reaction to his not being there anymore though, and Artie had felt such an overwhelming urge to comfort her that he began to doubt the hormonal fantasy explanation and wonder if he was actually in love with her. "Doesn't matter if you are, old man," he growled to himself, slowly shaking his head. "She needs way better than you." Artie was so lost in his reverie that he jumped when his Farnsworth buzzed, nearly swerving off the road. He pulled over, his hands shaking as he dug into his bag to answer the call. "Talk to me."
Myka's face filled the screen, her eyes wide with fear. "Artie! Where the hell are you?"
Artie gave her a withering scowl; he didn't enjoy being sworn at. "I'm on my way back to the Warehouse. Where, pray tell, are you?"
Pete's scared face came into view as he peered into his Farnsworth's screen. "You need to get back here ASAP, Artie. Claudia got into one of the boxes from the Museum, and whatever was inside got her."
Artie felt his heart jump to his throat. In an even voice that was meant to calm himself more than Pete and Myka, he said, "Show me."
Myka turned the Farnsworth around and pointed the screen towards Claudia, and Artie's mouth dropped open when he saw the state she was in. Claudia was laying on the floor in front of the couch, curled up on her right side as small as she could make herself. She was whimpering and sobbing, her face buried in her knees. She jerked her head up and cocked it to one side, apparently listening to something. Claudia sat up, giving Artie his first clear glimpse at her face, and he could see that both of her eyes were black, shiny orbs. She continued to listen to a sound only she could hear, her mouth dropping in horror. "What?" she finally whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "What? No, no it's not true, it's not true! No no no no no no...."
Myka yelled, "Pete, grab her, it's starting again!" as Claudia began screaming. Artie's heart broke when he saw Claudia's face collapse as she screamed, "Artie's dead! Artie's dead! Artie's dead!" over and over.
Myka's face reappeared on Artie's Farnsworth. "Artie," she whispered, fear making her voice shake, "Hurry." Artie closed his Farnsworth, dropped it onto the passenger's seat, put the Jag back into gear, and drove back to the Warehouse as fast as he ever had.
Part 2:
Claudia sat on the couch in the Warehouse office, and she had no idea how she got there. Probably some weird transporting artifact or something, she thought. "Well," she sighed, shifting her weight to get up, "Might as well finish what I was doing..."
She stopped, her brows furrowed in confusion. What had she been doing? She remembered getting up extra early to come to the Warehouse, but she couldn't remember why. When she searched her memory for clues, she realized she didn't even remember walking into the office door, let alone sitting on the couch. She began walking around the office looking for anything that would tell her why and how she was there. When she got to Artie's desk, it was covered in boxes, hundreds of little boxes, each one tied with an elegant black bow.
"Artie?" she called, her voice sounding strangely small. "What's with all the little boxes, dude? Artie?" Her only answer was silence. "Artie!" she called louder, her voice echoing. She turned her head this way and that, trying to hear if Artie responded to her, but she heard nothing after her echoes faded. "Well, this is a little freaky," Claudia said, her voice the only defense she had against the thundering silence. She looked around the office a little more, and having found nothing else out of the ordinary, she turned her attention back to Artie's desk and the hundreds of little boxes.
The boxes were all identical, so she picked one up at random and shook it near her ear. Something rattled softly inside, so she undid the black bow and removed the lid. When Claudia looked into the box, all she found was a shiny penny. What the... She was about to go for a second box when she noticed something odd about the penny she held, so she went to her desk and pulled out a magnifying glass to get a better look. She gasped when she saw it wasn't Lincoln on the coin, it was Artie. Looking closer, she let out a small "oh" when she saw that Artie's eye was closed and he had a bullet hole in his head.
Voices began to flow into the office, hundreds of them, all talking and saying nothing. "What?" She turned her head around, trying to hear the conversation. "What?"
The walls of the office began to shake, morphing into the sanctuary of a large cathedral. Hundreds of people were talking to her in hushed voices, offering their condolences and sympathies, barely masking their gratitude that it wasn't their loved one dead in the box far up front. Claudia began to walk against the flow of the crowd, getting closer to the display, wanting to know who died, pleading with every deity who might listen that it wasn't Artie. When she was finally able to look inside the hateful box, she pleaded with the universe, "No, no, it's not true, it's not true! No no no no no no...."
Never again tease him. Never again hug him. Never try to kiss him. Never get to make love to him. The phrases cycled themselves in her mind over and over, getting louder with each repetition until Claudia was screaming. That's why she had gotten up so early this morning; she had had to get ready for Artie's funeral. "Artie's dead! Artie's dead! Artie's dead!" She tried to run away from the scene, to get anywhere but here, but the crowd held her in, forcing her to look into the hateful box, her grief slicing through her soul, screaming, screaming, always screaming--
Claudia sat on the couch in the Warehouse office, and she had no idea how she got there. Probably some weird transporting artifact or something, she thought. "Well," she sighed, shifting her weight to get up, "Might as well finish what I was doing..."
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Artie slammed on the brakes, parking his Jag at an angle as he slid to a stop. He grabbed his bag and Farnsworth, launched out of the driver's seat, and ran into the Warehouse. "Why couldn't she just leave those damn boxes alone?" panted Artie as he huffed and puffed his way down the corridor. "I'm going to kill her." If she lives through this. The first stabs of real fear hit him as he approached the office door; he could already hear Claudia screaming his name. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for how she would look.
It was worse than he anticipated. Claudia was back on the floor, knees drawn up. Her eyes were still black, blood-red tears ran down her face, and she had a nosebleed. Artie muttered, "Oh dear God," and shot a questioning glance at Pete who was sitting beside her. Pete shook his head. "It wasn't me, Artie. Claudia cried so hard she burst some capillaries in her face." Artie cautiously stepped closer to them, his eyes never wavering from Claudia. "Have your or Myka found out what in God's name did this to her?"
Myka appeared wearing purple gloves and holding a small golden brooch. "We think this is it, Artie. It was on the floor beside Claudia when we found her, and it's the only thing not accounted for in the boxes." Myka paused.
"Well, what is it?" Artie asked impatiently, the irony not lost on him that he sounded like Claudia.
"Artie, this is Mary Todd Lincoln's brooch. She had it on when President Lincoln was assassinated." Myka paused again.
"For God's sake, Myka, tell him," Pete said, his voice shaking as he held onto Claudia to keep her from running away again.
"Tell me what, Myka." Artie's voice was flat and full of fear and venom, not liking the feeling that something was very very wrong.
"Artie, we've already dipped the brooch and neutralized it. Claudia's condition didn't change, and we have no idea what to do."
Part 3:
Artie winced as he knelt down on the floor in order to inspect Claudia. He had to see first-hand what was going on if he was going to be of any use to her. Using a moist cloth Myka had gotten for him, he began wiping Claudia's face, his hands as gentle as possible, not wanting to hurt her more. Pete and Myka shot a glance at each other, surprised by the loving expression on Artie's face as he cleaned the blood from her cheeks and nose. He crooned to her softly, shushing her sobs with a tender voice he hadn't used in a long time. Pete looked away, slightly embarrassed, feeling that he was somehow intruding on a very private moment.
Myka sat up abruptly, a look of realization crossing her face. "Pete, I know why neutralizing the artifact didn't stop Claudia from cycling through her nightmare over and over."
Pete looked up at Myka after he made sure Claudia was stable for the moment. "OK Myka, spill it."
"Alright, follow me on this. Mary Todd Lincoln was suspected of having bipolar disorder. She went through highs and lows and back to highs, a constant cycle. Claudia is caught in a constant cycle right now. I think we need to find some way to connect with her, to shock her out of this cycle, in order to bring her back."
Pete nodded in agreement. "Makes sense to me. You have an idea on how to shock her out of it?"
It was Myka's turn to nod in agreement. "I do. I think Artie should kiss her."
Both Artie and Pete stammered, staring at Myka in disbelief. Artie was the first to speak. "Kiss her?!"
Myka's eyes widened, her hands held out in front of her in a defensive posture. "Artie, just follow me here, OK? Look, Mary Todd Lincoln lost her husband that day, the person she loved the most. Maybe this artifact makes the person affected by it constantly relive the death of the person they love the most."
Artie turned towards Pete for support, thinking Myka's idea was crazy. He was stunned to find that Pete was looking at him in a very thoughtful and calculated manner. "Artie," Pete spoke softly, "Have you ever seen the way Claudia looks at you?"
Artie's brows knit together in confusion. "The way she looks at me?"
Pete nodded slowly. "She's in love with you, man."
Artie sputtered in disbelief. "Pete, she's not in love with me. I'm three times her age--"
"Oh stop it, Artie," Myka said. "Stop using your age as a crutch. She's in love with you, and it's blatantly obvious that you feel the same way about her. When you were cleaning up Claudia just now, you would not believe the look of pure love that was on your face." Pete nodded in agreement.
Artie's mouth formed a thin line, and he looked at Pete and Myka over his spectacles, one eyebrow raised. "Now look. We don't even know for sure how this artifact works. There has to be a way to break Claudia out of this cycle, but kissing her, when she's unconscious, is not the answer!"
Claudia stirred in Artie's arms, a puzzled look on her face. "What? What? No, it's not true, It's not true!" she yelled, her voice cracked and rough from all the screaming. "No no no no no no......"
Artie held Claudia tightly as red tears began falling down her face. He looked up helplessly at Pete and Myka. Myka nodded to Artie, a small smile on her face. "Artie, please. Kiss her."
Artie closed his eyes, bowing to the inevitable. He concentrated on his feelings for Claudia, and focusing them in a single thought, he leaned forward and kissed her. When he pulled back, he was met by black eyes. Nothing happened.
"See? I told you--"
Pete threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jesus Artie, what are you, twelve? Don't just put your lips on her mouth; kiss her."
Artie turned to look at Claudia and saw that she was opening her mouth to scream his name. Before she could utter a sound, Artie focused his love, his caring, and his passion for this wild redhead, and, leaning down, connected his lips to hers, a gentle pressure that he almost let up on when suddenly she was kissing him back, her arms around his neck, pulling herself to him. His arms went around her, holding her to him as if it were most natural thing in the world. He had never felt so complete, so connected, as he was at this moment.
Claudia broke the kiss first. She looked at him, her eyes still black and shiny as obsidian. When she spoke, her voice had an eerie quality to it, like there were two of her speaking at the same time. "Artie? Artie, is it really you? You're not dead?"
Artie tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. "I'm not dead, Claudia. I'm right here with you, as long as you'll have me."
Claudia began to shake, her head thrown back as a massive seizure wracked her body. Artie almost let her go, but Myka stopped him, putting a hand on his arm and shaking her head. Artie nodded, tears in his eyes, as he held Claudia close to him, hugging her as the dark energy pulled itself from her body. Claudia threw back her head and let out one last scream, terrible and damning and sad, and went limp in Artie's arms. He laid her form down on the couch, taking great care to make sure her head was well-supported and that she had a blanket. When he turned around, he saw that both Pete and Myka were crying,
Pete spoke first, his voice soft. "Artie, that sound...."
Myka nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. "I don't think I've ever heard anything so full of despair."
Artie took off his spectacles and sat down wearily, pinching his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. "We all need rest after this." He looked up at Pete and Myka. "You two head back to Leena's and take the rest of the day off. Understood?"
Pete and Myka nodded mutely as they headed out the door. Artie looked down at a sleeping Claudia, grateful that when the artifact's dark energy left her it had the decency to heal the physical damage it had done to the capillaries in her face. He wanted to talk with her when she woke up, though; he didn't think for a second that the artifact had healed the emotional wounds it caused. Artie scooped Claudia into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as he carried her to his room. They both needed rest, his bed was big enough for two, and he wanted to be close to her in case she needed him.
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Claudia stretched, extending her arms and legs until her joints nearly popped. She settled herself back to how she was laying and sighed; she had never been on so comfortable bed in all her life. Wait a minute, she thought to herself, a bed?
Claudia opened her eyes and sat up to have a look around the room. Where the hell am I?
She whipped her head to her left as a soft snore came from a pile of blankets beside her. When she leaned over to see who it was, she spied an unruly mop of salt and pepper curls. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Holy cow, I'm in Artie's room! Damn, he has a nice mattress. She leaned away from him, putting her head back down on the pillow. What the frack am I doing in Artie's room? In his bed, no less! Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to remember, wanting some explanation as to why on earth she was where she was. The next moment, she wished she hadn't tried so hard; watery tears spilled from Claudia's eyes as the her memories crashed into her, each one feeling like a kick to the stomach. She buried her face in her pillow and sobbed as quietly as she could, not wanting to disturb Artie as the memories of grief, loss, and overwhelming despair scraped through her mind.
Artie awoke instantly, throwing off his blankets as he turned over to see what was happening to Claudia. He saw her shaking form and could hear her ragged sobbing. He felt for her so much; more than one artifact had left him an emotional wreck. She was turned toward him, so he simply scooted over to her and pulled her to his chest. Her crying eased after awhile, and Artie became aware that she was saying something under her breath over and over. When he listened, he heard her raggedly whispering, "Please be real, please be real, please be real, please be real...."
Artie pulled away from her so he could see her face. He was grateful that her eyes were back to their warm brown, but he sighed when he saw how haunted they were. He was still studying her eyes when she moved closer and met his lips with hers. The sensation overwhelmed Artie's defenses, and he kissed her back, his tongue gently massaging hers. Claudia reached her hand under his shirt to run her fingers through his chest hair, and Artie growled deep in his throat when her hands ran across his sensitive nipples. She pressed into him, and he jumped when her thigh softly touched his hardness, the intense sensation snapping him back to reality. He pulled away from her, breaking their kiss.
"Claudia," he said breathlessly, his voice shaking. "We can't do this. You've just been affected by a dangerous artifact; it's not right."
Claudia put her hands on either side of Artie's face and pulled him closer until their noses almost touched. "Shut up, old man."
She kissed him gently and thoroughly, her tongue exploring his, massaging its pebbled surface. Artie reached between them and unbuttoned Claudia's shirt, running his hands over the smooth surface of her bra. He undid the hooks and opened the cups, her flesh spilling free. He ran his hands over her breasts and massaged them, softly twirling her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. When he felt her nipples get hard and the flesh get bumpy and crinkly, he broke their kiss. He looked at Claudia, a wicked grin on his face as he saw her panting from his touch.
"Claudia, did you know that the bumps on an erect female nipple have meaning?"
"They do?" she asked, barely able to concentrate.
"Mm hmm. The bumps are Braille. They mean 'suck here.' "
Claudia was barely able to utter "What?" before Artie closed his mouth on her left nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue. Her back arched in pleasure, pushing her chest into him as her head leaned back, a breathy "Uhhhhhhh....." escaping her lips. Artie licked and sucked her left and right nipples back and forth, never alternating when Claudia would expect him to, driving her wild. She finally put her hands on his head, stopping his motions. "Artie, please..."
He looked up to see the pleasure on her face, and he was startled to see that her eyes were glowing. Claudia's eyes were actually emitting light, a sharp contrast to the total darkness of before, and Artie understood how to rid her of the artifact's terrible effects. He trailed kisses down Claudia's belly, his hands working to open her belt. When Artie gently tugged on the waistband, she raised her bottom so he could more easily slide her pants and underwear down and off.
Artie nestled himself comfortably between her open legs. He rested his hands on either side of her orange fluff, and she whimpered when he used his thumbs to open her. His tongue darted out to lick her folds, reverently massaging her flesh. She cried out when his pebbled tongue touched her clit, bolts of pleasure shooting through her. He focused on her clit, licking and sucking until Claudia went over the edge, screaming his name as she came into Artie's mouth; he lapped at her core until she collapsed on the bed.
When Artie raised his head to see if she was alright, Claudia was looking at him, and he gasped at her eyes. They were so bright now they cast shadows on the wall of his bedroom. Still laying flat, she raised her arms towards him, a look of longing and hope on her face. When she spoke, her voice had the same doubled quality to it as it did when he first pulled her out of her nightmare.
"Artie, please....."
Artie stood up and quickly removed his pajamas. He knelt over Claudia, his hardness resting against her. He paused a moment, gathered himself, and slid into her heat. She bucked her hips, pulling herself up to him. Artie growled deep in his throat as he thrust into her as hard and fast as he could, his self control gone. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and just as the tingle from the base of his skull shot down his spine to set off fireworks in his balls, the light from Claudia's eyes exploded into the room, nearly blinding them both as she screamed out her orgasm.
When the light faded, Artie collapsed on the bed, completely spent. He had just enough energy left to pull an equally spent Claudia to him. As they drifted into healing sleep, Claudia whispered the words she had longed to speak for months.
"I love you, Arthur Nielsen."
Artie gently stroked her hair. "I love you too, Claudia Donovan."
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The next morning, Pete and Myka walked back into the Warehouse office, ready to finish the cataloging that had been interrupted. They stopped short when they saw Artie sitting at his desk shirtless wearing only pajama bottoms. They were about to say something when Claudia came from Artie's bedroom clad in one of his long dress shirts and nothing else. The two pairs froze when they realized they had seen one another.
Myka broke the standstill first, running to Claudia and scooping her up in a hug. "Thank goodness you're OK!"
Claudia yelped and began squirming. "Myka, put me down, put me down!"
Myka sat her down and asked, "What's the matter? Are you OK?"
"I don't have any underwear on," Claudia stated quietly.
Pete whipped his head back and forth between Artie and Claudia, understanding dawning on his face. "You," he said, looking at Claudia, "and you," he gulped, looking at Artie, "in there?" he said, pointing in the general direction of Artie's bedroom.
"Uh, yep," Artie nodded, giving a little shrug at Pete's discomfort.
"More than once," Claudia said from the back of the room.
Pete turned towards Claudia and put his hands up in a defensive posture. "OK, I did NOT need to know that."
A giggle from Myka broke the silence. Pete looked at her incredulously. "What is so funny about this?"
Myka shook her head in apology, barely containing her giggles. "A phrase my dad said to my mom a long time ago just now struck me as funny."
"Care to share it with the rest of the class, Myka?" Pete's arms were open wide, gesturing to everyone.
Myka cleared her throat and said between giggles, " 'Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?' "
A moment of silence hung in the air before Myka, Artie, and Claudia burst out laughing. Pete just smiled and shook his head.
"You're all demented, you know that, don't you?"