Summary: This will be a group of one-shots surrounding the relationship between Wyatt and Lucy- in every timeline, no matter what changes, they meet. Most will be sad. Please PM me if you have ideas.
A/N: I do not own Timeless or any of its characters
In another world, Amy doesn't exist. Never has, as far as Lucy's concerned. She's a history professor in a department that her mother practically built from scratch. To most people, the last name Preston doesn't mean a thing. In the history department, it's a load of bricks on her shoulders, high expectations that she's afraid she'll never reach.
She loves her mother, loves her dearly, but it's a lot of pressure being the boss's daughter. Everyone trying to second guess her, wondering if a promotion is just nepotism. She loves her mother, but she doesn't want to be her mother. She thinks that's why she moved in with Noah, to prove that she can have a functioning relationship, that she doesn't have to just be her mother's shadow for the rest of her life. This is just a secondary reason for moving in with him. But it's certainly the first one she thinks of. She loves him too, she reasons.
When she gets turned down for tenure, she tries comforting herself with the knowledge that at least she has Noah. It doesn't work.
She doesn't want to go home to a place that feels staged, uncomfortable. She's lived there for over two months now, but it still doesn't feel like hers, theirs. She certainly doesn't want to go to her mom's house, go visit the woman who could get her tenure, easily. She ignores her mother's calls, turning off her phone.
Lucy decides that she needs alcohol. She can think about this in the morning, think about how she'll move on from this, what her next move is. Right now, she wants to get drunk. She doesn't know where to go. Rufus and Jiya are away, Denise is spending time with her family, and she doesn't really have any other friends. That, she thinks, is sad, but not her utmost concern at the moment.
She ends up at a small bar on the other side of town. It's not too loud and gross, but also not so quiet that she can feel everyone's eyes on her. She sits down at the bar and waits for the bartender to turn her way. When he does, she gives a small squeak of surprise. There's something about him, she decides. She can't put her finger on it, but something about him calls to her, seems familiar.
She orders a shot of whiskey, wanting to feel the warmth and burn as it slides down her throat, wanting to forget about it all. The bartender seems to watch her, study her as she tosses her head back, bringing the glass quickly down. She's so focused on not focusing on him that she forgets why she's normally a wine drinker. She hates whiskey. Hard alcohol always makes her cough, and she has to turn to the side to clear her throat.
The bartender tries to hide a chuckle but she hears him. She whips her head around and glares, asking what he finds so funny. He raises his hands in defeat, nothing, nothing. He's just never seen someone so determined to get drunk, yet so entirely oblivious as to how. There aren't too many people in the bar, so he has time to spend on her.
He spends the next two hours teaching her how to drink, teaching her how to appreciate hard alcohol, how to cover up the taste of cheap vodka, how to chug beer. His boss will be pretty angry with him for giving all this alcohol out for free (he'd offered his services, so he wouldn't feel fair taking advantage of her inebriated state to get her to pay for it all). He wouldn't do this normally, wouldn't throw caution to the wind, but there's something about her. He likes her spirit and determination, he decides. He asks if she wants to stop after four or five different drinks, but she just looks at him with a fire in her eyes, telling him to bring it on. He laughs, and they trade drinks until he's off his shift. She's in no condition to drive home, and she's refusing to give her address, so he brings her to his house. She gives him a look, tells him not to take advantage of her since he's the one who got her into this state. He quietly reminds her that she'd gladly accepted- and had chosen to continue on. She waves him away.
He decides quickly that she's the most responsible drunk he's ever dealt with. She might not be able to walk in a straight line or stand still, but when they get to his apartment she insists on drinking at least two glasses of water so she doesn't get a hangover. He laughs and gets them for her. She falls asleep on the couch having finished most of the water and attempting to read a book on George Washington's spy network. He picks her up, carrying her to his bed. He takes off her shoes and jacket, placing them on the side along with her phone and two painkillers for the morning.
As she lays there, Wyatt finally has a chance to look at her. She's beautiful, he decides. Beautiful on the outside, but even more beautiful in her personality. He may not have known her for long, but he can see her passion, her intelligence, her empathy and her determination. He doesn't know what happened to bring her to the bar, but he wants to find out, wants to know everything about her. He falls asleep on the couch, wondering how he got here and thinking that this has been the most unique night of his bartending career, and he's seen and heard a lot.
She wakes up the next morning with only a slight headache. She can't remember everything from the night before, but knows where she is (which she thinks is definitely a good thing) and can certainly feel embarrassed that he had to bring her to his home. She opens her phone and closes it as she sees all of the missed calls and messages from Noah and her mom. She'll handle them later, but right now she just wants to leave.
She finds a pen and paper, writes him a note thanking him for doing all of this, and leaves.
He watches her leave with one eye open, unsure if he should tell her that he's awake. Instead, he does the cowardly thing and stays quiet. He hopes that she'll write her number on there.
A few minutes after she leaves, he receives a phone call from his sister, his grandfather is sick and he needs to go home. His grandfather is more important than a girl who sparked his curiosity for one night. He needs to go back home, leave the life that he's carved for himself here. Leave the girl with the determination and grit.
When Lucy returns home to the apartment she shares with Noah, she calls her mom. Her mom is angry that she didn't reply, that she didn't tell anyone where she was, but she's thankful that she's ok. She was worried, she says. Lucy assures her that she's fine, was just staying with a friend, and that she just needed some time away after last night's disappointment.
That's what she was trying to tell her, her mother insists. She found her a job at another history department, if she's willing to move. It would be a better job, with better pay and more responsibilities. And without the cloud of her mother's reputation. Well, less of one anyway. Noah's willing to move, her mother says, I talked with him yesterday.
Lucy takes the job without hesitation. She needs to get out of here, she thinks. Get away from it all. She realizes that she can't hide behind Noah anymore. Her mother knows more about Noah than she probably does, and to her, he's barely more than a cardboard cutout.
She spends the next two days packing her things, only speaking to Noah out of necessity. She feels badly, but this is a cleaner break than she had expected. He can find someone who actually loves him, and she can find a place of her own, one that she doesn't have to hide. She thinks about Wyatt, thinks about telling him goodbye, thanking him for taking care of her in a moment (well, night) of weakness.
She goes to the bar, but he isn't there. He left that morning, went back to Texas. Lucy thanks the bartender and leaves the bar, leaves the town, her state. She's gone, starting over. And he's gone, back to his roots. Even in a world with time machines, timing often goes wrong.
