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Instinct, or Social Pressure to Conform?

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A century separates them. Yet, while in some ways so much has changed, in so many others there's nothing new. Women may now be allowed to vote and have easier access to education. Myka may even had had the opportunity to serve her country openly with badge and gun. The pressures of society's expectation lie heavily on both women. For while both have, in their own inimitable ways, saved the world, neither has achieved socially acceptable success in that undeniable female arena of family.

Her sister fitted the pattern. Being popular with the boys, and at ease with them, meant her trip through high school sailed a far easier course than Myka's acknowledged brilliance with books. Physically graceful, but socially awkward, young Myka's sub-conscious responded with recurring dreams of a perfect future family; her, a husband and their child.

The dreams stopped the day Sam died.

When she joined the Warehouse, she discovered that some families you're born into, but others are made. Sometimes from people you never knew you were looking for.

When she next dreamed of her family, again, there were more people there. Pete horsing around in the background, with Claudia trying to stop him from breaking anything, while Artie provided a solo piano soundtrack. But the biggest change, was when her lover came and joined her where she sat observing the others and playing with a dark eyed child, the hand that rested on her shoulder, rubbed her neck and twined gently into her hair with a promise of things to come was not Sam's or any other man's.

For the past three years, it only ever Helena's hands that she's dreamed about, regardless of whether the other agent has been around or not.

Looking into the pleading eyes of the woman in front of her, she sees too many of her own insecurities reflected there. She has seen how Helena has found some measure of peace in this adopted family, as well as love, acceptance and a child to replace the one she lost so long ago. Earlier, jealousy made her sharp, rude and tactless, but now at this moment of parting, she lets it go. She answers Helena's unspoken question with the words she needs to hear, offering an absolution and renewing the ties of friendship. A hug to seal it, then away back to the Warehouse, trusting Pete to drive them safely through the dark night while pretending he can't see her silent tears. Her final image of Helena is seared in her mind's eye: standing on the side of the road, in front of the house she's made home, confused pain writ large across her face.