So this was written for Week 3 of the Timeless Lucy/Wyatt Weekly Challenge at officerparker dot tumblr dot com. It was supposed to be up yesterday, but oopsie, I'm late with it. I mean, sure, you could protest my lack of punctuality by not reading it, but where's the fun in that? :) It does mean it was kind of rushed and not beta-ed, so please excuse any typos or other weirdness.

(I so wanted this to be about some sweet little old senile great aunt of Wyatt's or something, but it just wouldn't happen. This happened instead.)

im·pe·tus

\ˈim-pə-təs\

noun

a: (1) a driving force, impulse
(2) incentive, stimulus

b: stimulation or encouragement resulting in increased activity

Wyatt waved off Jiya's protests and headed for the bar to get her a glass of water.

It had been a trying couple of weeks, what with everything going from seeming all wrapped up after Ethan's treasure trove of information back to square one in a matter of an hour, but they'd all finally managed to make time to try to forget everything for a night and celebrate Jiya's release from the hospital. Of course the doctors had no idea how to treat her seizure-like symptoms, so they'd kept her under observation for just about two full weeks. In the end, it was more that the seizures subsided rather than the medical staff actually figuring anything out. She was still under orders not to drink alcohol with the medications they'd sent her home with, but she'd insisted that her release celebration be that they go play pool for a bit at a bar not far from the hospital. She'd been hitting the virgin daiquiris pretty hard since they'd arrived an hour or two ago and had been in dire need of plain old water to break up the steady stream of sugar.

Rufus had been up to break their next game, so Wyatt had been the one to offer to get it for her.

Of course, it hadn't just been Jiya that he and Rufus had wanted to get out for a night.

Since the news about her mother being Rittenhouse, on top of not being able to get Amy back and being thrust back into missions to chase Emma, Lucy hadn't quite been herself.

Sure, she was functioning and performed perfectly fine every time they'd been sent back into history, but it was a subdued 'fine'. Then again, Wyatt supposed having your whole life pulled out from underneath your feet could leave you a little withdrawn and listless.

She'd refused to go back to the house she'd lived in with her mother, so Wyatt had managed to get her a lease in his apartment complex until they figured out what was going on with Emma and Rittenhouse. There were regular tenants and families, but they also had some semi-furnished places meant for shorter, month-to-month leases for business travelers and the like. That had been how he'd started there, something temporary in the aftermath of Jessica's murder. But without a reason to move, he never had, always extending the lease and keeping the place even when stationed elsewhere. Now, with five-plus years there, he'd been able to put in a good word for Lucy at the management office.

Not that it meant he really saw her any more than he would normally. He'd managed to coax her into dinner at his place once, but she'd begged off every other time he or Rufus had suggested doing anything.

At least she'd been willing to come out with them to the bar for Jiya's sake. Not that alcohol was ever truly a solution, but a couple of gin and tonics in, she was more lively, more like the real Lucy. He glanced over his shoulder at her as he approached the bar and had to smile at the sight of her awkwardly draped over the end of the pool table. She was hardly a shark, and she'd gotten it into her head that getting in the exact right position for a shot was critical, no matter what it took to get in that position. Coupling that with her clumsy tendencies made for an interesting sight.

He'd just managed to get the bartender's attention to ask for water for Jiya when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Wyatt?"

He blinked at the petite blonde next to him for a second before realization dawned and memories of German vocab flashcards, frat parties, and football games, among other things, back in College Station bombarded him. "Shit, Steph," he exclaimed, reaching to embrace his old friend. "Hey…"

"Hey you," she giggled in his ear as they hugged. "How are you?"

"Good. How are you?" He echoed, pulling away from the hug. "What are you doing in San Francisco? Do you live here?"

Stephanie shook her head vehemently. "Oh, no way," she informed him, "Still all Texas. Just a conference for work at the Moscone Center. We finished earlier," she explained, "but the best networking always ends up happening in the bars later, so here I am. I thought it was you over there," she said, gesturing over to the pool table, "and I knew you and Jess had come out to California, but I couldn't get away from the group to check. They're finally heading out now, so…" She trailed off, looking him up over nostalgically. "It is you."

"It is me," Wyatt confirmed amicably with a grin.

Stephanie smiled back genuinely. "It's great to see you. I'm sorry I never made it to Jessie's funeral," she added apologetically. "When you did it out here instead of back home, we couldn't-"

Wyatt heart ached a little at the mention of Jess, but not to the degree it once might have. He cut Steph off, gently placing a hand on her arm. "It's ok," he assured her. "Don't worry about it."

She leaned over and gave him a quick hug, leaving her hand to squeeze his arm as she pulled back. "But you look like you're doing great – I know she'd be happy for you."

His head tilted ever so slightly, confused by her odd choice of words. Why would Jess be happy for him for hanging out in a bar to play pool?

"I thought you always liked us blondes," Steph teased, twisting the end of a strand of her own hair for emphasis, "but she's pretty. You look good together," she stated, quite matter-of-fact about it.

Wyatt's brow furrowed at Stephanie's words. Together? Who was pretty and not blonde that he looked good with? "Wh-?" he started to say, following her gaze to the back of the bar. …to where Lucy had just glanced over her shoulder in his direction, shooting him a soft smile. His stomach did a little flip-flop and he couldn't help but smile back automatically. Of course Lucy was pretty; she was beautiful, and unlike Rufus and himself, somehow managed to still look stunning no matter what kind of ridiculous, dated costume she got thrown into for their missions. But Steph couldn't have meant-

It was another second before he registered that Steph was indeed watching him watch Lucy, grinning. His gaze darted back to Lucy, now delicately sipping her drink and laughing with Rufus, then back to Steph and her 'gotcha' expression. Only then did it dawn on him what she was insinuating.

"Oh, she-" he stammered, alarmed and cursing his pale, fair skin and the bright red color that he could already feel tingeing his ears and neck. There'd been the hint of …possibilities a few weeks ago, back at Mason before all hell broke loose. But that wasn't really anything. Sure, since then maybe he'd allowed himself to be a little more casual about lingering brushes of arms, or a hand on her back if they were walking together, and maybe that's what Steph had seen, but… Of course he wasn't with Lucy; Lucy was Lucy, and he didn't want Stephanie to get the wrong impression, so he protested further, "We're n-"

She cut him off before he could explain, gushing, "Oh, look at you all kerfuffled and smitten. Is it new?" She grabbed for his left hand, inspecting his fingers. "I don't see a ring..."

Of course, there was no ring on his hand, but the word itself was enough to bring to mind Lucy's engagement ring and the fact that Stephanie wasn't exactly the first person to mistake them for a couple. But she didn't need to know that. She did need to know that he and Lucy weren't …anything, but with the memory of the feel of Lucy's lips pressed to his back in 1930's Arkansas suddenly dominating his thoughts, he was admittedly a little distracted. So instead of a coherent rebuttal to Steph's assumption, all Wyatt could muster as a response was an entirely true admission of when he'd first encountered Lucy; "We, uh, just met a few months ago."

Stephanie practically cooed her response, "Aw, honeymoon phase! How'd you meet?"

Wyatt figured that mentioning time travel, the Hindenburg, and sneaking a peek of Lucy taking off her bra in a 1930's New Jersey jail cell was not exactly a reasonable answer in this situation. Or in any situation, really. Nor would the bit about trying to see Lucy topless be likely to convince Steph that he was not, in fact, in the relationship she seemed to think he was. "Uh, work," he muttered, trying to go with the safest possible response.

"Wait," Steph frowned, eyeing Lucy skeptically, "she's military?"

Wyatt smiled to himself, recalling the heart-to-heart he'd had with her back in Nazi Germany, the way she'd gleefully wielded the pistol she'd snatched off the other soldier when she and Rufus had hijacked the lifeboat; Lucy was a hell of a lot closer to being military than anyone outside of Mason Industries, Rittenhouse, or Flynn himself would ever give her credit for. Still, he shook his head. "No, she – Lucy –" he clarified before Steph cut him off.

"Cute name," she pointed out with a grin, sipping her drink.

He kind of had to agree; she was the only one he knew personally, and it suited her given that he'd never met anyone quite like her. Not that that would answer Steph's original question. "It's- it's a weird mission," he explained haltingly. As if that wasn't the biggest understatement of all time… "She's a historian," he clarified, opting for the simple explanation again. "A professor."

Stephanie gasped, her eyebrows shooting up, obviously impressed. "Whoa, so she's super smart?"

"Yeah, she is," he nodded, feeling almost a sense of pride at just how many times Lucy had been able to save their asses with some random factoid that he'd never have known in a million lifetimes.

"But can she keep you in line as well as Jessie did?" Steph smirked, nudging Wyatt with her elbow.

Reining him in in Nazi Germany and 1954 D.C.? Talking him down in the middle of the Alamo? Flat out calling him crazy in that warehouse after he'd escaped from the national park? Wyatt let out a self-deprecating snort. "Most of the time, yeah," he admitted with a grin. Yeah, Lucy had figured out how to deal with him pretty quickly, and to be honest, she might have even become better at it than Jess had been. Lucy got him. He liked that she got him. And, he was starting to realize, that was probably exactly why he should stop holding back and just follow through with what he'd almost done that day before Mason interrupted with them.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you, Wyatt," Stephanie gushed, pulling him into a quick hug. She leaned back, adding seriously, "A lot of us were worried about you after Jessie, but you're good," she gestured over towards Lucy, asking, "yeah?"

Good? Well, no. Not entirely. Because while Wyatt was working on making peace with Jessica being gone, and while he could finally (finally) admit to himself, after however many months of missions and failures and near-death experiences and staged kisses and ill-fated attempts to get Jess back and would-be goodbye hugs, that he felt something for Lucy (and possibly even a stronger something that he was ready to admit) and that he wanted to see where that something might go, he'd yet to work up the courage to fully admit any of that to her. Which was probably why he'd been so quick to try to deny things to Steph.

He could blame it on the Rittenhouse fiasco, that he was just giving Lucy space to deal with the fact that her mother had ties to the whole mess, but ultimately it was just an excuse.

He had to be done with excuses. He cared enough about Lucy that he owed her a real conversation, preferably without Connor Mason, or anyone else, marching right through the middle of it.

Tonight. He'd tell her that night. Not at the bar, but later, when hopefully she was still happy and relaxed from the night out. Not to mention with a little liquid courage still in him.

Wyatt could only hope he wasn't reading things completely wrong and that she'd reciprocate…

Then he'd be good.

Not that Steph needed to know all those details, so he merely nodded his confirmation with a tight smile, hoping it wouldn't be long before it was true. "…Yeah."

She just grinned happily back at him.

The conversation stalled just a bit, so as much as Wyatt would have preferred to focus on figuring out what he was going to say to Lucy later, and how he was going to say it, he told himself to be polite, going for reciprocity and inquiring at Stephanie's relationship. "What about you?" he asked, "How's Adam?"

"Oh, you know," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm here so he's grumbling about being home alone all week with two pre-schoolers, but he actually loves it."

Wyatt chuckled, trying to picture his old buddy from ROTC chasing after a couple little kids. "I didn't know you guys had kids now," he told her. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, one of each, two and four," Steph elaborated. "They're… exhausting," she sighed, with a fond smile, "but we love 'em."

Without even thinking, Wyatt glanced back at Lucy; split-second, barely-there visions of her round and glowing with pregnancy, or with a dark-haired toddler hoisted up on her hip, flickered briefly through his mind.

But not briefly enough that Stephanie didn't catch on to where his train of thought had (very very prematurely) taken him. Wide-eyed, she nudged his ribs, gasping, "You guys aren't already-?"

"No," he practically barked, in part to respond to her insinuation, but also in part to reprimand himself for allowing his thoughts to wander in that direction. He still had to figure out how to approach Lucy about the possibility of …something, without bailing like a coward as he had when Mason had interrupted; he had no business making the mental leap to …a relationship and sex and a future and kids, no matter how gorgeous she'd probably look carrying his child. "No," he reiterated, stronger. "We barely…"

He'd meant to finish the sentence, he had. But it just so happened that, right then, something ever so amusing must have happened back where his colleagues were, and Lucy's laugh rang out across the bar, distracting him momentarily.

Stephanie just smiled at him knowingly. "You'll be a good daddy someday, Wyatt. I know Jessie thought so." She nodded towards Lucy, adding, "Bet she does too…"

And Steph had officially gone too far for his liking, given that Lucy was hardly likely to be thinking about what kind of father he'd make, and may well never end up thinking along those lines if he didn't get his act together at some point. In any case, he was hardly going to continue discussing anything of the sort with a friend he hadn't seen in years before speaking with Lucy. So he shamelessly and oh-so obviously took the conversation in a sudden one-eighty. "You're here for work?" He asked pointedly, "How's that going?"

"Ok, ok," Steph laughed, raising her arms in mock surrender. "I won't push. Work is good," she added, explaining, "I actually have to present tomorrow, so I need to get out of here and finish my talk soon."

But before she could even get out the start of a goodbye, Wyatt felt a hand on his arm, and Lucy slipped through the crowd to his side.

"Wyatt, Jiya is going to stab you with a pool cue if you don't get her that water," she informed him facetiously, still gripping his arm. "And come on," she continued, "Rufus is somehow practically a professional pool shark; I can't fend him off by myself," she pouted, looking up at him wide-eyed, "I need you."

He blinked hard, his voice faltering for a split-second at the sound of those words. But he recovered, shaking his head and recalling that his friend was still standing there watching the whole exchange. He worked his arm from Lucy's grasp, snaking it around her waist go gently nudge her to face in Stephanie's direction. If his arm happened to linger longer than necessary, well, so be it… "Luce, this is Stephanie. Steph," he clarified, explaining, "We went to college together."

"Oh, back in Texas?" she exclaimed excitedly, smiling at him over her should before turning back to Steph. "We never meet his friends from down there." She stuck out her hand, introducing herself, "Lucy. So nice to meet you."

Steph was having none of Lucy's formal handshaking, and she pulled her in for a hug. "You too!" she replied, releasing Lucy from the hug, but still holding her shoulders while she eyed Wyatt with a smirk. "But don't let him get away with not always telling you everything – we did date for a little while, but only until he met Jessie."

And while she certainly could have gone gossipy with that information, latching onto the mention of him briefly dating Steph, instead Lucy immediately turned and looked up at him as Steph's arms fell away from hers, eyes wide with curiosity and concern. "…Jess," she started, looking for clarification of the nickname Steph used, "…ica?"

Wyatt gave a barely-there nod of confirmation, his thumb rubbing small circles in the small of Lucy's back as a sort of unspoken assurance that he was ok with Jess having been brought up.

For as observant as she'd been in assuming they were together, Stephanie was oblivious to that understated exchange and continued rambling. "So don't worry," she assured Lucy, "I may know what he's like in bed, but I'm married, so he's all yours." And leaning in with a dramatic whisper, she added conspiratorially, "Bet he's only gotten better with age, huh?"

That got Wyatt to drop his arm from Lucy's back. He saw her jaw drop, and she shot him an utterly bewildered look before stammering at Steph, "Oh. Ok…" If Wyatt thought he'd been blushing earlier, it was nothing compared to the heat he felt tingeing his cheeks after hearing Steph's implication in front of Lucy. Panicking, he snatched the glass of water from the bar and shoved it in Lucy's direction. "Here's water for Jiya," he blurted, practically pushing her away towards the pool table.

Thankfully, Lucy went along with it, taking a few steps away before turning around to give Steph a cursory goodbye. "I should-" she gestured to the glass in her hand. "Nice to meet you." She headed off, but not without a questioning glance at Wyatt.

And then she was gone, blended into the crowd of the bar.

And Steph was the one gripping his arm instead. "Oh, I'm sorry," she babbled, "Is she shy? You know me and my big mouth, plus this?" She nodded to where she held up her highball glass filled with some ghastly-looking pink concoction, "I didn't mean-"

Wyatt shook his head ever-so-slightly. "It's ok," he assured her.

"I should go anyway," Stephanie replied, shrugging apologetically. "It was so great to see you, Wyatt. Keep in touch," she insisted, grasping his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Definitely," Wyatt promised. "Good luck with your talk."

He watched her go, genuinely grateful to have run into her, but also wondering how much damage control he'd have to do with Lucy, considering Steph's pretty blatant allusion to the sex life that he'd let her believe existed, but that he and Lucy most certainly didn't have.

With a sigh, he made his way back towards the pool table. He didn't really have a plan, other than the fact that he knew he really didn't want to discuss anything with Lucy there at the bar. Not what Steph had said, and certainly not anything regarding how he'd been feeling towards her.

But when he approached the group, with Rufus and Jiya in the midst of strategizing their next shot, Lucy was decidedly not occupied by anything and was solely focused on him as he walked up. Super.

She glanced over at Jiya and Rufus before sidling up to him, whispering, "What was-"

"Later," Wyatt said tightly, cutting her off without meeting her eyes.

"Wyatt, wh-"

"Later," he hissed, stepping away from her to force some trash talk on Rufus to distract himself.

As much as Wyatt wanted – needed – to talk things over with Lucy, it was neither the place nor the time, so he kept his distance, managing to avoid much interaction even as the group continued playing. Of course, that didn't stop her from looking at him oddly, questioningly, at every opportunity. He shied away every time.

He was grateful that things were winding down anyway; after a couple weeks essentially on bedrest, a night out had left Jiya pretty tired. Which also meant, since he'd picked her up upon her release from the hospital, Rufus had his car with him.

So Wyatt found himself crammed in the tiny back seat of Rufus' Prius, the limited space leaving his knees pressed up against Lucy's. She kept staring at him, questions evident in her eyes.

He, in turn, just stared out window.

And then they were in the parking lot of his – and now Lucy's – apartment complex. Unfortunately, the relatively short drive hadn't offered Wyatt much of an opportunity to figure out what he was going to say to Lucy to explain Steph's comment. Especially if he still had any hope of salvaging the conversation about them that he'd originally resolved to have.

The two of them extracted themselves from the cramped backseat, bidding Rufus and Jiya goodnight.

And then, in the dim lighting of the parking lot, they were alone.

Wyatt could tell that by now Lucy was more than a little miffed, between being confused by Stephanie and then him not being willing to talk to her. He certainly knew from past experience that she didn't take the silent treatment well.

Kind of like now.

She crossed her arms, her posture standoffish as she eyed him warily. "Ok. Well, your friend was nice." She stated flatly. "Not sure what she was talking about though…"

He sighed, wracking his brain for the words that would somehow convey that Steph had just assumed they were a couple, he knew they weren't but hadn't corrected her, and oh by the way, he kind of did want to be one.

Except none of that actually came out, just leaving Lucy more annoyed. "Nothing?" she scoffed, incredulous. "Ok, fine. Good night," she said with finality, turning to leave.

Wyatt panicked. That was the last reaction he'd wanted from her. He dashed after her, grabbing her hand. "Lucy, wait."

Not willing to let himself overthink anything more than he already had, he pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning in to capture her lips with his. She let out a muffled whimper of surprise against his mouth, but thankfully went along with it, lifting her arms to grip his shoulders. He teased her lower lip with his teeth, and she opened her mouth to him with a contented sigh. She tasted like gin and chapstick, and it was even better than he could have imagined. He held her closer, unwilling to let her go any sooner than he had to.

When they finally parted, both breathing a little heavier, Wyatt took it as a good sign that Lucy didn't immediately wrench herself out of his arms. Rather, she stood frozen, her eyes still closed and her lips parted in an expression of surprise. When she finally opened her eyes to fix her gaze on him, Wyatt brushed a stray hair from her cheek and took a deep breath. "Steph-" he started to explain tentatively, "she assumed we were together." He looked down, sheepish, before admitting quietly, "I didn't correct her because I couldn't think of a good reason why we're not."

Lucy's eyes went wide at his words, but her body stiffened and she took a nervous step back from him. "Well, Jessic-" she started.

"-isn't here," Wyatt finished, shaking his head emphatically. "And hasn't been. For a long time. You are," he insisted, stepping closer to her again. "I meant it that day before... Possibilities. Here. Us."

Lucy's expression softened at the reference before Wyatt continued.

"But," he admitted, ducking his head, "I chickened out when Mason came in. And then your mom… And everything since…" He shrugged helplessly. "And it didn't seem like it was the right time, so I didn't-"

Before he could finish, Lucy's hand was tugging on his neck and her lips were back on his abruptly, far more insistent than he'd been when initiating the kiss just a moment before. Of course he wasn't complaining, especially once he felt her hand slide forward to rest on his cheek. He slipped his arm around her waist again, pulling her closer.

And then, as suddenly as she'd leaned in, Lucy pulled away, leaving Wyatt wanting more. But her hand lingered on his face, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. "I don't have a reason if you don't," she declared softly.

When he heard those words, Wyatt couldn't have stopped the broad smile from spreading across his face if he'd tried. But he had no reason to try to stop it when Lucy was wearing a matching grin.

He'd kissed her first (twice, if you were going to count Arkansas), and she'd just kissed him, but this time, it was both of them together, just melting into each other, right there in the middle of the parking lot.

This was slower, more sensual, less tentative, more exploring of each other. Tongues, teeth, nips, breathy sighs, wandering hands sneaking up under shirts, nails scraping skin, both of them wrapped up in this kiss and simply lost in the feel of each other and the fact that they could finally act on long-repressed feelings.

They certainly didn't notice the car pull up next to them.

Jiya's voice was what finally burst their bubble, causing them to leap back from each other.

"Wyatt," Jiya giggled gleefully, the wicked grin on her face matched only by Rufus' similar one in the drivers' seat. "You left your coat in the back." She dangled said coat out the window of the car.

Out of the corner of his eye, despite the dim light, Wyatt could see a bright red blush creeping into Lucy's cheeks even as she weakly covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a laugh.

He mentally cursed Rufus' near-silent Prius as he bashfully snatched the jacket from Jiya, begrudgingly mumbling a quick 'Thanks'.

Jiya just laughed again at their expense. "Have a good night, you two!" she teased in a sing-song voice, then waved tauntingly as Rufus headed towards the parking lot's exit for the second time.

Wyatt just shook his head as they drove off, half-laughing at having been caught like teenagers hiding from their parents.

"Oh, come on," Lucy laughed, giving him a playful shove. "I teased Rufus when they got together. It's allowed."

Wyatt found himself smiling once more, this time at Lucy's casual use of 'together' in reference to the two of them; he liked the sound of it.

But as much as he'd like to keep the 'together' going, maybe bring her back to his place, see where things led, he had to stop and remind himself that there was no rush. They were on the same page; they had time. They'd get there, together.

Pulling her to his side, Wyatt pressed a quick kiss to her temple. "I'll walk you home," he offered, nodding in the direction of her building.

Lucy nodded with a smile, a pretty flush still coloring her cheeks.

He slid his arm around her, resting his hand in the small of her back once more, though with their newfound 'together' status, it was a little more difficult to convince himself not to let that hand slide a little lower.

But they had time.

Wyatt may well have intended to leave Lucy at her apartment and head back to his own, not rushing things, ever the perfect gentleman…

But, it turns out that a few centuries of time travel make for a hell of a lot of foreplay and now that kissing was a thing they were doing, neither of them was about to say goodbye without a good night one at her door. Which turned into against the door. Then against the inside of the door. And in her living room. And the hallway. And on her bed. (And, later, in the shower…)

Suffice it to say, Wyatt didn't make it back across the complex's grounds to his own building that night. (It didn't remain just his building much longer after that anyway; Lucy's short-term lease proved to be rather short indeed.)

And, had they run into her again, Stephanie's assumption no longer would have been incorrect. (Lucy certainly could have compared notes with her. A lot of notes.)

~FIN~

Thanks, aredburn, for having this weekly challenge; I love the opportunity to have someone else come up with the story idea for me :)