A/N - Started writing this quite a while ago, so it is firmly set in the imaginary Season 2 we have all been exploring for over a year. Absolutely no season 2 spoilers! Rated T just to be safe on the language front.

As always, I own absolutely none of it!

Consider a world in which cause and effect are erratic. Sometimes the first precedes the second, and sometimes the second the first. Or perhaps cause lies forever in the past while effect in the future, but future and past are entwined. -Alan Lightman

Time Travel offends our sense of cause and effect – but maybe the Universe doesn't insist on cause and effect. -Edward Lerner

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? -Anon*

May 10, 1849

New York City

This was bad. This was very, very bad. How had she not anticipated this? They should have stayed downtown, gone the other direction….and now—

Lucy's thoughts were interrupted as she was shoved to the ground by a group of young men trying to storm the stately building on the other side of the street. She tried to regain her footing, but the crowd was thick….and it was dark. And, with the noise of the yelling—it was like being lost at sea, she didn't know which way was up. But this sea was made of a mass of swarming men, pushing ever forward. And she knew it was a mere matter of seconds before the militia on the other side of that street started pushing back….and she had to get to her feet to avoid getting caught in the impending whirlpool of humanity….

And then there was a hand, reaching toward her, grasping her elbow, providing the leverage that she needed.

"Wyatt?!"

"I got you." He pulled her the rest of the way to her feet, wrapping her in his arms as he tried to push his way through the crowd in the opposite direction of the Astor House.

"Where's Rufus?"

"He's over there—trying to find a side street that isn't blocked—trying to find a way out.

She could tell Wyatt was yelling….and yet she could barely hear him over the din created by the men around her. Still wrapped in Wyatt's arms, they moved forward—inching closer to where Rufus was supposed to be. But by moving in the opposite direction of the mob, their progress was slow. She craned her neck around, trying to see where the militia line was forming….they had to stay out of the range of fire.

There was a loud bang to their left—not a rifle, but something ominous enough to send the crowd of people in that direction roiling toward them. She almost went down again, as a tumbling man slammed against her. Somehow, Wyatt kept them upright, until they reached a small alcove in a brick wall beside the street.

And somehow, Rufus was there—he had found them.

"Any way out?" Wyatt asked.

"Not that way—crowds are more than ten deep in spots….and they don't seem very happy."

Lucy saw Wyatt's arm flying toward her then, as he kept both her and Rufus pressed against the brick wall, as someone pushed by with a loaded wheelbarrow. He turned toward Lucy, "Is this Rittenhouse? I thought you said Carol came here because of the hospital being built for the cholera epidemic?"

"I know….that's what I thought. I don't think she's here because of this….I mean…..maybe….maybe? But this—this isn't Rittenhouse."

There was a smattering of gun shots in the distance.

"Then what the hell is this, Lucy?" asked Wyatt.

"The Astor Place Riot," she supplied, "I just….I just didn't think….I forgot….and we've managed to walk right into it—"

"The Astor Place Riot?" Rufus asked. "Never heard of it."

"Also known as the Shakespeare Riot."

"Wait, the what now?" he asked.

Suddenly Wyatt was standing very close to her, as a small mob of people came crashing toward them, he angled his body, which resulted in keeping the mob from crushing her against the wall….and also resulted in his shoulder and side being pressed up against her chest. She watched as he scanned the crowd to their left.

Things went hazy for a minute—and she wasn't sure if it was the crushing crowd or Wyatt's crushing closeness. She realized that Rufus was still staring at her. What had he asked her? Something historical? Oh….right.

"It started with this….rivalry….between two actors," she said.

"You've got to be kidding me." Rufus shook his head.

"No…..William Charles Macready, he was this famous British Shakespearean actor, and he had this major rivalry with American actor Edwin Forrest….it started out like a publicity stunt….it was good for business….but then things started getting more serious. Macready appealed to the upper class, while Forrest appealed to other New Yorkers—"

"Holy Shit!" Rufus shoved her sideways—and she dragged Wyatt with her—as heavy objects began raining down on them from the window above their alcove.

"What are those?" Rufus asked.

"Bricks," she said.

"Bricks?" said Wyatt.

"That was one of the primary weapons of the riot," she explained. At first, some of Forrest's supporters decided to storm the play house—throw eggs at Macready, that sort of thing. But word started spreading through the city that Macready's upper class fans were trying to spread British values….to stomp out the "Americans"….so the Forrest supporters found themselves joined by scores of men from gangs of the Five Points neighbourhood—"

"Wait," moaned Rufus, "Five Points' gangs? Like in the movie Gangs of New York gangs?"

"Well….I mean, that movie was highly dramatized….practically fictionalized—"

Another brick smashed the wall behind them—she saw it hit, just inches from Wyatt's head. But, yes," she nodded, "That's them." She motioned to the crowd around them, "This is practically all them, in fact. And that was why things got….out of hand."

"Okay," she heard Wyatt's voice no-nonsense now. "I'm not going to have us get crushed against this wall on my watch. We need to get back toward the middle of the crowd, hopefully move with them….and find a way off this street. This way."

He gave Lucy's arm a gentle tug, and she followed along behind him, Rufus grabbing at her coat so that they wouldn't get separated. She suspected they looked like the world's oddest conga line.

"So….you said things got out of hand?" she heard Rufus' voice form just behind her. "Like more out of hand than this already is? What happened next?"

They had paused again, not by choice….there was just nowhere to go amongst all the people. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, to force the growing feelings of dread from being crowded—dread of being in a tight spot—away.

"So, the mob decides to storm the theatre—but the police are ready—the theatre was reinforced—windows were barred….and the militia was stationed a few blocks away. That's them there," she pointed to the other side of the road. "They marched on the theatre at the first sign of trouble…."

Wyatt turned quickly to face her, "So you're telling me we've got an unruly crowd throwing bricks at armed militia men right now?"

She nodded quickly.

"Fantastic." He shook his head, "This is bad guys—can anyone see an exit possibility?"

"Wyatt," she said, "Pretty soon the riot is gonna hit a tipping point and….the militia will open fire on the crowd. More than twenty are killed….way more are wounded."

"All this because of a Shakespeare performance?" Rufus twisted around, trying to avoid a punch that was thrown by a random man from behind him.

"The actors, they were like proxies for the opposite sides of the class divide—"

A rifle went off, far too close for comfort.

"—but, yeah….it was started because of a play." she said.

"Okay, that's it." she could tell Wyatt had had enough. "Lucy—which way do we run? Where do you think we'll be safest?"

Lucy was about to reply when a shoving match broke out between three drunk men beside her. One of them careened into her shoulder, and she felt herself stumbling backward again, somehow ending up in Wyatt's arms. She whispered her thanks, and he helped her stand.

"Well," she began, "There's no way the crowd will think we're with them—look at the way we're dressed? I mean, we needed to be Upper Class New Yorkers…." she shot an apologetic look at Rufus, "and servant, for the hospital….but now it practically brands us as Macready supporters!"

Another crowd member bowled into them at that moment, apparently thrown by two men. Lucy stepped back to avoid him, and kept talking. "So, we should run toward the militia….they should let us pass, protect us….

Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure—except, I've been in enough mob scenes to know that people's perceptions of what side you're on are all well and good….until the bullets start flying. Then all bets are off.

"Good to know," said Rufus.

Wyatt nodded. "And, even before we worry about that, our first problem is that we're on the total opposite side of the road to where we should be to reach the theatre. And with a throng of incensed people….who you've just admitted will already think we're against them….between us and that building.

There was a crack from another rifle, and a series of screams rose from the crowd. The renewed shoving created a slight break in the crowd, and Lucy felt Wyatt push her forward as he seemed to decide to jump on that opportunity. He pushed her steadily forward—moving the team further away from the militia.

"Okay," he began, "So—new plan. There is no way we are getting to the other side of this road before the real shooting starts…..so we're going to run north, instead….back to the Lifeboat. We're close, right?"

Rufus looked thoughtful. "Well—it's certainly doable, but it's still a distance away, maybe we'd be better off—"

Another gun fired. "Actually, that Lifeboat plan sounds good to me."

"Me too!"

Okay, on my count, he grabbed Lucy's hand in a strong grip. One, two, three and they started racing toward the North part of the square, where thankfully the crowds were smaller. Lucy still felt like a pin ball though, bouncing from one crowd-member to another, and her costume skirts certainly weren't helping matters any….but Wyatt's hand holding hers tightly was a reassuring presence.

They were making some progress, Lucy noted. The crowd seemed to be swelling in the opposite direction…..toward the theatre. She could feel her breathing ease with every step as the crowd became less packed, and the team moved away from the larger mob, able to move faster and faster. They'd hit the first crossroad just as a cacophony erupted behind them.

The militia had opened fire.

"Just keep moving," Wyatt's voice came over the clamour of gun shots and screams.

As they moved past the first blocked road, they were able to break into a jog—until they were forced to a standstill as they bowled around the corner to come face to face with twenty angry looking men….carrying torches and wheelbarrows of bricks.

There was a split second where the two parties stared at each other. Then Lucy's heart sank as the men gave them the once over….and she knew they had noticed the wardrobe thing. Then the gang started picking up the bricks from the wheelbarrow.

"Ahhhh…..crap," she heard Rufus behind her.

And then the men started throwing the bricks.

Wyatt yanked them backward, back the way they had come.

"Where are we going now?" she asked.

"This way," she caught Wyatt's mutter just as he pulled them off the road, racing toward a stone garden wall.

"They're still coming," Rufus yelled.

And he was right, as the unruly group had turned the corner and was now moving toward them.

She felt Wyatt release her hand. She turned toward him, and saw that he had woven his fingers together in a basket shape, and was holding them at her knee level….and looking at her expectantly.

"Over?" she squeaked.

He nodded. "We'll be right behind you."

Fear was flickering through her now—she glanced backward, seeing the gang still steadily moving toward them. Sucking in a breath, she put her foot in Wyatt's hands—

—and she was momentarily airborne. Luckily she was able to think fast enough to twist her body as she moved over the wall and into the unknown, and was able to tuck and roll as she hit the ground that was luckily mostly soft dirt. Thank goodness.

She heard scrabbling and scraping behind her, and turned to see Wyatt and Rufus both scrambling over the wall.

"Let's go," she called, and she led her team out of the garden toward the closest street.

"Hold up," Wyatt called, once she hit the quiet track. She turned back, seeking out his eyes.

"We're okay now," he began, "It won't be worth it to them, to follow us here—they'll just head back to the theatre."

"Uh….Wyatt?" Rufus said, pointing back in the direction from which they had come, "Wanna re-think that thought?"

Lucy pulled her attention away from Wyatt and back to the stone wall they had just scaled. She could see hands….and then heads and shoulders above the wall…. Rufus was right; the men were most definitely still following them.

All three were looking at the wall, by the time the first of the gang members had cleared the top of the fence.

"Ahhh, crap" they all said. In unison.

At least the roads on this side of the wall were completely clear. The trio spun back around, and started racing in the general direction of the dilapidated barn where they had hidden the Lifeboat.

These boots were not made for walking….or running, thought Lucy for the umpteenth time that evening, but she picked up the pace to keep up with the boys, as a quick glance behind her proved that yes, indeed….they were being chased by a sizeable Five Points gang, carrying torches and bricks….and who knew what other weapons.

"This way," came a shout in front of her. Rufus—suddenly steering the team sideways, into a long narrow drive shed.

"We should be able to get out the other side, cut through the livery stable….and then we'll be less than a block from the Lifeboat."

"Should be able to?" asked Wyatt. But by then, it was too late; they had entered the darkened shed.

Without even looking, Lucy knew the gang was still in hot pursuit. They reached the other end of the shed—where there was a wide carriage door….and it was open.

"Thank goodness," she said, hiking up her skirts and continuing to race toward the safety of the Lifeboat.

"See?" said Rufus.

Wyatt had paused to watch for their oncoming pursuers for a split second, then raced to catch up.

"How did you know that? You got GoogleMaps there?"

"Just paying attention."

"Thank goodness," Wyatt repeated.

Lucy glanced behind again, "They are still coming!"

"Keep running," encouraged Wyatt, "Through the livery stable—the barn's on the other side."

They raced through the stables, and out the other side. They were so close now—"

Rufus was racing alongside her now, and he turned back briefly.

"Uh….guys? The gang coming at us? They just grabbed a bunch of pitch forks from the stable."

"What are you talking about?" asked Wyatt.

"I'm just saying….now the angry mob is literally chasing us with torches and pitchforks…."

"Ah….," said Wyatt. "Run faster!"

She could make out the barn in front of them now—they were almost there. It was only then, in sight of the barn, that she realized….

"Wait! We can't run to the Lifeboat. The men chasing us….they'll see it. That can't—"

"Sorry Luce, but I'm really not caring about that at this point," said Wyatt.

She was about to argue….but realized she had no argument.

The team dashed into the barn. The Lifeboat was there. Wyatt was the first to reach it, and scrambled up the side, opening the door.

There was shouting outside—it was pandemonium—there was no question that the mob was almost upon them.

"1842 is officially going on the list of time periods that suck," said Rufus.

Wyatt yanked her through the Lifeboat portal, just as the first of the pitchfork and torch wielding gang members entered the barn. They were granted a few seconds more advantage as the men stepped back in shock at the sight in front of them. It was just enough time to close the door.

Rufus was at the controls, setting the coordinates, and Lucy was once again battling with her seat restraints….when a loud bang made her jump. Before she had the chance to ask a question, there was another, and another.

"Is that…."

Wyatt nodded at her, "Bricks. They're pelting the Lifeboat with bricks."

"But….but they can't get in, right?"

Rufus nodded, still at the controls.

"And the bricks can't hurt the ship, right? Right?"

Rufus remained frighteningly silent as he continued to work his controls. The clamour outside somehow became louder.

Wyatt leaned forward, clicking the buckles of her restraints in place...she had forgotten.

"We gotta go Rufus," Wyatt said.

"It's time!" agreed Lucy.

Those words were still echoing in her head as she once again found herself hurtling through time and space, or through the space time continuum, or through whatever it was they were hurtling themselves through, whenever it felt like her insides were in a blender. A stray thought crossed her mind—someday she was really going to have to read that physics text Rufus had recommended, to better understand the mechanics of what they were actually doing. But never having been one to meet a book she didn't want to read, she also suspected the fact that she hadn't yet read the book meant that she really didn't want to know the ins and outs of time travel….which she supposed meant that her previous thought was incorrect, and that in fact there was a book she didn't want to read. And then she wondered if that thought meant a major adjustment to her self-concept was in order, or if she could consider it just a minor flutter in her self-knowledge in the name of self-preservation….and then she realized that the Lifeboat had stilled, that she was feeling upright in space again, with gravity seemingly back to behaving the way it should.

She opened her eyes slowly—she always seemed to close them during jumps—to find Wyatt grinning back at her, as he always seemed to be, when she opened her eyes after a jump.

"Made it," he said.

"With seconds to spare," she heard Rufus grumble.

She unfastened her restraints, leaning forward in her seat to let her stomach settle. "Glad to be here." she said.

Rufus opened the Lifeboat hatch, and the three started their usual disembarkment. Lucy watched as Wyatt went first—giving a hand to Rufus, who, after their most recent experience, was in even more of a hurry than usual to see Jiya. She decided to hang back, not wanting to stand in his way. Gathering her skirts in her hands, she was just preparing to exit when she heard Agent Christopher's unmistakable voice from beyond the Lifeboat hatch in the docking hangar.

"Welcome back," Christopher said, "Glad to see you managed to get back safely from this mission. I'm never a fan of breaking up the band, but it couldn't be helped—"

Only just beginning to process Christopher's strange words, Lucy stuck her head and shoulders out of the Lifeboat hatch, preparing to take Wyatt's proffered hand of assistance. At that very moment Christopher abruptly stopped speaking.

And then, a whole bunch of things seemed to happen at once.

There was a clattering of metallic clicking from all over the room; shouts of surprise seemingly from everywhere; and something firm, hitting Lucy's torso, forcing her backwards, onto the Lifeboat floor.

"Ooof." Sprawling between the seats, the blasted skirts twisting and tangling about her legs, she was stunned for a moment….then she suddenly realized that it had been Wyatt who had shoved her backward. Wyatt—who seemed to now be blocking the Lifeboat hatch with his body. She braced herself with her hands against two of the seats, and pulled herself onto her knees, to peer over Wyatt's shoulder at the scene outside the Lifeboat in the docking hangar.

The source of the metallic clatter became clear, as she realized that every security officer in the place, and even a few techs, had drawn and readied their weapons...and they were all trained on her.

Gasping, she pulled further back, ducking her head and pressing it against Wyatt's back, but not before she had seen Agent Christopher, service weapon drawn, her face a mix of anger and exasperation.

The look on Christopher's face had filled Lucy with concern, but that concern was nothing compared to the dread that quickly followed—caused by the Agent's next clipped statement.

"What have you two done now?"

AN It's too bad we can't use a cool graphic to indicate the opening episode credits….I think they'd fit really well here! Maybe if everyone just hums the theme in your minds—you know, DUH duh duh duh, DUH duh duh duh? And then, of course, use the box to let me know what you think.