You Made Me Love You
"You made me love you–I didn't wanna do it, I didn't wanna do it..."
Later when she allowed herself to think back to that magical night in 1941 Hollywood, Lucy would marvel at how exquisitely perfect her song selection, chosen in a moment of sheer panic, was. After Barney Balaban had taken her by the hand and unceremoniously thrust her in front of the piano at William Randolph Hearst's mansion, demanding that she sing for the large group of bored, wealthy people, Lucy had instantly froze up. Not only was she terrified of blowing their cover (Logan and Preston, a new musical duo, my ass-thanks Rufus), but it had been close to fifteen years since she had done more than sing along to the radio in her car, what with nearly drowning when she was twenty and shortly afterwards abandoning her naive dreams of being a musician.
"You made me happy sometimes, you made me glad...but there were times, dear, you made me feel so bad..."
And damn the man, Wyatt had been absolutely no help at all. Even as Lucy protested and clung desperately to his warm hand, he was urging her to go, telling her that she had to sing because he would definitely give them away. And then he sealed the deal by whispering fervently against her cheek, "I know you can do this." Dammit, she was so weak where he was concerned–would she ever be able to deny him anything? She could feel his anxious gaze on her as she hesitantly threaded her way through the crowd and stepped up beside the beautiful piano. Smiling nervously and praying she wouldn't throw up, Lucy tried to buy herself a few meager seconds by picking up a glass of champagne and taking a sip while the man at the piano looked up at her expectantly.
So many thoughts were racing around her mind, it was a wonder, a true miracle (if you will) that her frantic brain picked this particular song. A huge Judy Garland fan, it was actually one of Lucy's favorites from the WWII era, and somehow the title tripped off her tongue, and the accompanist nodded agreeably and began to play the opening bars. It was a less than inspiring start; and actually would have been a kindness to say her first few notes were merely awful, but somehow, Lucy dug deep, pulled herself together, and finding her pitch, tentatively tried again, closer really to speaking the lyrics than actual singing at first.
"You made me love you–and all the time you knew it, I guess you always knew it..."
Raising her gaze, she found Wyatt, impressive in his pilfered tux, staring at her intently from the doorway, silently willing her to perform well. What was he gesturing? Oh, he was urging her to smile, and focusing on him, Lucy felt her nerves ease some as she began to relax, and soon all the rest melted away. The ornately-furnished room, the suddenly hushed crowd of Hollywood elite, even their mission. All of it disappeared as Lucy concentrated on his azure eyes, and thankfully, there it was, that connection they always shared, almost from the very beginning, and her fear and doubts drifted away.
Turning back to the accompanist, Lucy instructed confidently, "Hit it, buster," and like magic, the words just flowed out of her. Feeling emboldened, she began to get into it, smiling and winking, even growling a few words here and there, playing up to her now-attentive audience. (Good Lord, did she just pull Barney Balaban to her and rub his balding head?) A long-forgotten joy filled her heart as her voice rang true around the room's high ceilings. My goodness, how could she have forgotten this incredible feeling?
"You made me sigh for, I didn't wanna tell you, I didn't wanna tell you..."
And wasn't that a true statement if she'd ever heard one? Lucy had known for a long time, months now, how she felt about Wyatt. Sadly, it seemed she was incapable of summoning a defense against falling in love with him, no matter how much she'd fought it or told herself it was a bad idea. "The heart wants what the heart wants," she thought wryly, and unfortunately, hers had been very firmly snared early on by a handsome, brooding soldier, who had (to her chagrin) dead wife issues.
Embarrassed to admit it, she had probably started falling for Wyatt Logan the second she had met him when he'd opened those piercing blue eyes and smirked at her. He had annoyed (and intrigued) her almost from the start-arrogant, stubborn, brave, gorgeous, strong. Yeah, her silly little heart hadn't stood a chance, and eventually, Lucy learned to suppress the fierce emotions he stirred within her (most of the time).
During the all-too-brief performance, her eyes returned again and again to Wyatt, drawing strength and comfort from his steady gaze, one dark brow raised in surprise, and the slow smile of admiration he wore. She could do this, Lucy realized, she could do anything when Wyatt Logan looked at her that way. She had depended on this man for months now, her one true constant in a reality that seemed to change and reshape itself on a near daily basis.
"I want some love that's true, yes I do, 'deed I do, you know I do..."
Strange, how the words of a simple song could betray her innermost feelings. Hell, yes, Lucy Preston wanted true love. But not with just anyone, no indeed. It was clear that it was with Master Sergeant Logan or no one. The more time she spent with Wyatt, the stronger her attachment to him had grown, until she worried it was the worst-kept secret ever. Naturally, Lucy had hidden these feelings as best she could, kept them to herself, too beset by her own insecurities to take a leap of faith and risk heartbreak. After all, what if Wyatt didn't return her feelings or even worse, did feel something for her but just wasn't able to move past the loss of Jessica? No, far better to suffer privately and somehow learn to deal with it.
"Give me, give me, give me what I cry for...you know you got the brand of kisses that I'd die for..."
Kisses, oh, yes please. His kisses. The only kisses Lucy Preston had any desire for, now and forever, it seemed. Much to her secret disappointment, their surprisingly intense kiss in front of Bonnie and Clyde in 1934 had never again been repeated, although they had come close recently. The day the boys brought Lucy home and she had broken down in front of Wyatt, he'd immediately tried to comfort her. His steadfast words ("you haven't lost me") had filled her with sudden hope. Lucy had impulsively caressed his stubbled cheek and turned his face towards her, so close she could feel his breath against her lips, but they were interrupted before Wyatt's mouth touched hers (excellent timing, Jiya).
And then, a couple days ago during the jump to 1955, the two of them had been forced to hide in the back of Wendell's racer. Curled up against each other, Lucy was struggling to contain her claustrophobia when Wyatt's solid weight had settled protectively over her, and acting on pure instinct, she lifted her face to his. Just as his warm lips descended on hers, Wendell had popped open the trunk (dammit). Busted, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed at getting caught, her frustration was so great. But something was bound to happen soon. Lucy could feel the usual tension between them grow steadily every day.
And now, here they were in 1941, dressed to the nines, mingling with the rich and famous. Her song was nearly finished, the music slowed, the notes growing softer now and more delicate, and in front of a roomful of elegant strangers, she searched her soul and found the courage to tell Wyatt how she felt, albeit in a song written eighty some years ago. Lucy's heart beat painfully in her chest at her daring, but unable to deny the truth any longer, she took a chance and quietly, longingly sang the final words across the room to him. As the notes faded gracefully from her lips, she mentally held her breath as stunned comprehension gradually dawned on Wyatt's face. Lucy knew from the way his blue eyes widened in surprise that he understood–message received, Ma'am-and then his lips began to curl up on one side, slightly reminiscent of the first time she'd laid eyes on him.
"You know you made me love you..."
Thrilling as the enthusiastic applause was to Lucy's ears, her reward was the obvious pride shining from Wyatt's eyes as he quickly made his way through the crowd, never taking his gaze from her before gallantly helping her from the raised platform. His hand possessively clasped Lucy's before tucking her against his side as they slowly navigated her admiring audience. Eventually, they reached the staircase where Rufus was waiting with a somber expression on his face that brightened when he saw them.
"Well, if it isn't Logan and Preston," he teased, snickering when Wyatt rolled his eyes. "So, did you have to sing?" glancing between Lucy and Wyatt.
After the success of her impromptu performance (and the fact that Wyatt's arm was still wrapped securely around her waist), a flushed Lucy was practically giddy. "Rufus! You missed it. Wyatt made me sing by myself, but I think I did alright. The audience seemed to like it."
She blushed with pleasure when Wyatt proudly assured Rufus that Lucy had been better than alright–she'd been amazing. Congratulating Lucy and directing a sly, knowing grin at Wyatt, he observed, "It's a shame I missed this little performance because, oh, wait, I was just a bit busy spying on the Rittenhouse sleeper agent."
All business now, Wyatt frowned, "Were you able to find out anything about his plans?" And it was back to the mission as Rufus filled them in on their way out of the Hearst mansion. Fortunately, they had barely started to walk down the long curving drive when an elegant roadster stopped in front of them. The car door opened to reveal Hedy and a man she introduced as her inventing partner, George. When pressed, the trio confessed their lack of accommodations for the night, and she graciously insisted they stay with her. Rufus climbed in the front seat beside the driver, while Lucy and Wyatt settled in the back across from Hedy and George.
During the short ride, Lucy was excruciating aware of Wyatt's arm slung casually around her shoulders and the press of his muscular thigh against hers. She never wanted this wonderful night to end, but all too soon, the car was pulling through the tall front gates to Hedy's elegant home. Within minutes of arriving, the actress and her partner had invited an eager Rufus to tour her room of inventions, leaving Wyatt and Lucy alone for the first time in days. Nervously sipping her drink, Lucy felt as if she were being swept along on a relentless wave of emotions. The atmosphere between them felt super charged, the building tension leaving her practically breathless. She wondered if maybe their night was just beginning after all, because something had to give and soon...
A/N #1: This is just a little something that popped into my head today, and would not let go of me, even though I was in the middle of writing a spec fic for episode four, so here we are. Just like Lucy in this story, I am also a big fan of Judy Garland, and loved that this particular song of hers was used in this amazing episode (well, except for that ending) as a way for Lucy to reveal her feelings for Wyatt. It seems very appropriate (to me) for her to tell him, 'you made me love you, I didn't wanna do it.' There will be one more chapter, picking up with the delightful pool scene :) Thank you so much to everyone for your reviews, favorites, and follows-you guys are the best!
A/N #2: Almost forgot! I'm pleased and excited to announce a neat little milestone: this is my 25th story for the Timeless fandom...