What if, during the pilot, her tenure meeting cancelled, instead of heading home to drink with Amy, Lucy headed elsewhere?

It might just make you see Lucy and Wyatt's interactions in a completely different light...

(Also, I don't believe they ever gave random history dude/David Sutcliffe a name. Since I'm portraying him as a jerk, I'm borrowing his Gilmore Girls name, given that he's also a jerk there...)


Seething, Lucy stormed across campus. Who the fuck did Christopher think he was, letting her tenure review get cancelled? Fucking asshole, fuck, fuck, fuck. There goes her entire career just because some asshole with a damaged ego had been holding a grudge for over a decade?

What she wouldn't give to have never met him, never made the mistake of getting involved with him when she was an undergrad and he was a Ph.D. student. What had she known, just a naive nineteen-year-old, smitten with the sophisticated older guy? Well, not much, but at least she'd known enough to end the relationship as soon as she'd found out that he was also sleeping with some woman from Italy, a professor on his dissertation committee. As if the two-timing wasn't enough, the complete lack of academic ethics was icing on the cake. She'd broken it off as soon as she found out, and he hadn't taken it well.

Apparently even less well than Lucy had originally thought. She'd hardly been thrilled when he resurfaced in her own department, one of those odd post-tenure endowed position hires just after she'd been hired herself as an assistant professor. But she'd kept her distance, kept her head down. She'd published her book, written other papers, earned pretty decent student course evaluations, served on all sorts of committees, and everything else she was expected to do for tenure. She should have been a shoo-in.

Lucy should have known Christopher was just lying in wait, poised to ruin it all. Fuck him.

She reached her car and yanked open the back door, roughly throwing her briefcase in and slamming the door closed. Breathing hard, she leaned back against the car and ran her hand through her hair. She couldn't go home like this, she couldn't let her mother know what was going on and upset her given the fragile state she was in.

She needed a drink. Or five.

Scanning the faculty lot, her gaze came to rest on the faint neon light half-hidden by the trees at the edge of campus. She'd never been in before, but maybe the sleazy bar frequented by students was exactly what she needed right now.

Lucy clicked the car remote, locking the door. Still royally pissed off, she stomped off in the direction of the dive with a purpose.

She coughed as she pushed her way through the front door; smoking was technically illegal, though it seems the law had been rather loosely interpreted in the case of this particular establishment. The crowd was sparse, and really young. Lucy half-suspected that the minimum age of 21 was also seen as a mere suggestion. Dodging the outstretched arm of an emphatically tipsy patron, she headed for the bar. It was mostly empty; she slid onto the nearest stool and requested a tequila shot. Not her favorite, but it was potent, which was what she was looking for at the moment. The bartender poured it quickly; she downed it quicker, and requested a second.

She pounded that one too, nodding for a third.

From two stools over, a snarky voice spoke up. "Careful, ma'am. Might want to pace yourself. Not exactly a young student anymore, are ya?"

Lucy turned, her eyes narrowed at the rude intrusion. The voice didn't even belong to a young guy. Not ancient, and certainly hot, but pretty much the same age as she was. Jerk. "Fuck you," she shot back. She was in no mood for dealing with yet another asshole, and she could already feel the alcohol eroding any sense of propriety she might have otherwise had.

But instead of snapping back with a nasty retort, he turned towards her, eyeing her up and down. He downed the rest of his drink - whiskey? rum? - and beckoned for another before declaring, "I'm game."

Her eyes widened, and she very nearly ended up choking on her next shot. She swallowed, coughing, before turning back to him, not sure where she fell on the spectrum between offended and intrigued. "Seriously?"

He just shot her a sinful smirk, shrugged, and sipped at his refreshed drink, still eyeing her over the rim of the glass.

"Thought I was too old," she challenged, intrigue - and possibly a smidge of arousal - prompting her to probe his actual interest. She waved for a refill.

"At least I know you're legal," he taunted. "Ma'am."

Lucy scoffed, rolling her eyes. Serious asshole.

He just shrugged smugly and turned back to his drink.

Still, Lucy studied him. Seriously good-looking asshole, though. She bit her lip, still tempted. How long had it been that she'd put work, the pursuit of tenure and prestige, ahead of anything resembling a personal life or relationship? How long had it been since she'd even had sex, relationship or otherwise? Too long, she reminded herself darkly. And for what? Nothing. There wasn't going to be a tenure meeting. She took a deep breath, making up her mind. She downed whatever number shot had just been placed in front of her, and she fished in her purse for cash. Throwing down a few twenties, she stool up to face the hot asshole. "You know what? Fine," she declared. "Let's go."

A stunned expression crossed his face; he clearly hadn't been expecting her to take the bait.

She smirked proudly to herself as she marched past him, her resolve never wavering, the tequila having emboldened her. She got a few feet further before casting him another glance over her shoulder, eyebrow raised and daring him to follow.

Marching towards the door, Lucy could make out his reflection behind her. He slammed the rest of his drink and headed in her direction.

She'd just pushed the door open when she felt his hands ghosting at the small of her back, and his warm, solid presence just behind her. Before she knew what was happening, he'd whirled her into the shadows just outside the front entrance, his mouth hot and insistent on hers. Lucy let out a whimper as he coaxed her mouth open, tongues meeting sensually. She raked her nails over his chest, giving just as good as she got as she nipped at his lower lip. His hands eventually made their way into the back pockets of her jeans, massaging roughly as he pulled her hips to his. She pulled back from the kiss with a slight gasp, the feel of his hard length insistent against her hip. Mouth free, he just began an assault on her neck instead, trailing his lips and teeth from her shoulder to her ear.

Lucy hissed as he hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, and instinctively began to sneak the tips of her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. She heard him let out a groan, the hot breath heating the sensitive skin of her neck. And then his mouth was back on hers, rough and unyielding.

Then he pulled away again, breathing heavily.

Lucy frowned at the loss of contact, but before she could protest, he had her by the hand, half dragging her down the block.

She followed, too turned on to even think about not going with him. Still, curiosity got the best of her "Where-"

He cut her off before she could even formulate the question. "My place is down the block. Don't bail on me now," he teased, tugging her closer for another bruising kiss, "ma'am."

The overwhelming urge to punch him in his smug, gorgeous face was outweighed by Lucy's desire to get him naked as soon as possible.

She pulled away, taunting him right back. "I'm not seeing any follow through..."

It had pressed the right button, for half a second later, he was pulling her down the sidewalk again, quickly ducking around traffic at the cross-street, and before she knew it, Lucy was pressed to the front door of what she could only assume was his apartment building. Keys jangled, even as their tongues danced.

She fell away from him with a soft 'oof' as the door suddenly gave way behind her, but the empty space was quickly replaced by his solid arm around her waist. A tipsy giggle escaped as she clutched his trim waist, only to be stifled by yet another searing kiss before he nudged her up the stairs.

Once on the landing, he made quick work of his apartment lock, flinging the door open and spinning her inside. Her jacket was on the floor before she knew what was happening, and both of them were tugging the other's shirt from their respective waistbands. A few seconds later and those were tossed aside too, Lucy's breath catching as she finally got a glimpse of exactly how good-looking this guy was. Chiseled muscles everywhere, and the intensity with which he was staring at her did nothing to lessen the effect he was having on her.

"Like what you see, ma'am?" he teased, the smirk returning, though this time on kiss-swollen lips.

"Shut up," Lucy hissed, launching herself back at him, nails scraping over the back of his neck and bare shoulders as their lips met yet again.

She only half recognized the sensation of him making quick work of the bra clasp at her back, but she sure as hell noticed when his thumbs brushed her bare nipples as he slid the garment off. A shaky breath slipped out against his mouth.

Wanting the same reaction from him, she reached for his belt, hurriedly pulling it open and moving on to the fly. His pants finally loose, she snaked her hand inside his boxers.

He tore his lips from hers as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder, groaning immediately upon her first direct contact with the smooth skin of his hard length.

Taking the noise as encouragement, Lucy wrapped her hand around him, fully gripping him as she brushed her thumb over his already slick tip. He thrust ever so slightly into her palm as heat built between her own legs.

She continued, working him slowly until she felt his mouth spring to life once again against her neck, sucking softly. Pulling away, Lucy admonished, "Hey! No marks. Save that for your barely-legals." She'd certainly decided to thrown caution to the wind this one night, but she had no desire to have a hickey reminding her - and everyone else who'd be able to see it - about it for days to come.

He chuckled, and just pulled her in for another kiss, his pants still hanging sinfully low on his hips, boxers tenting obviously.

It was Lucy who broke that kiss, impatient to move things faster. She backed away from him ever so slightly, taking the initiative to pull down her own jeans, stepping out of them carefully and kicking them away with her shoes. She eyed him defiantly in just her plain cotton boyshorts, daring him to follow suit.

And follow suit he did, one-upping her and stripping fully.

If there'd been any lingering doubt in Lucy's mind to that point, the full view was enough to convince her. She wanted him. And she was going to have him. "Bedroom?" she demanded, her voice breathy.

That damn smirk again.

But then his lips were back on hers, and he was backing her down the hall while simultaneously working her panties down over her hips. They were at her ankles by the time they tumbled onto his bed.

A condom materialized out of nowhere, and before she knew it, Lucy was rolling it on him and guiding him to her as he hovered above her on his elbow.

Her breath hitched as he slid in, stretching, filling her. "Fuck..." she hissed softly.

'"Yes, ma'am," he responded with a wicked grin, easing himself back out before thrusting once again, harder this time.

All she could manage as a reply was to wrap her legs tightly around his hips, urging him him deeper still.

He dropped his head to her neck, peppering kisses along the length again, not letting his break his steady rhythm. Lucy raked her nails through his short hair, silently begging him to never stop.

Then he shifted his hips, the change in angle suddenly hitting Lucy in all the right places. She whimpered, even as he captured her lips again.

Almost right away, she was writhing impatiently, meeting his thrusts with vigor as she chased the release she could feel building just beyond her grasp. "Please," she murmured against his lips.

He kissed her harder, his hips speeding up to match his mouth's insistence.

And a split second before she fell, he broke the kiss, meeting Lucy's gaze with an unnerving intensity.

Then she unraveled, electric sensations pulsing through her as her eyes fluttered shut with a strangled moan. She could feel him still thrusting, carrying her through, until he stiffened above her, a guttural groan in her ear as he followed her over the edge and his weight rested heavily on her.

Holy shit...

Lucy was still feeling the aftershocks moments later. He was still on her - in her - but her mind was already racing. What the fuck was that? It was just supposed to be a random fuck, and random get-it-out-of-her-system fuck in the aftermath of losing out on tenure. It wasn't supposed to have felt like that. Try as she might, she couldn't slow her racing heartbeat.

Finally he moved, sliding away from her. He was actually more gentlemanly than Lucy would have expected, pressing a kiss to her temple with a quiet mumble about cleaning up before he slipped out of bed towards what she assumed was the bathroom.

...And this was one reason one-night stands hadn't really been part of her repertoire since the fleeting 'join a band' phase of her undergrad years. This was never not going to be awkward, Lucy realized, absently clutching a sheet to her chest. The best sex she'd had in a good long while, and it was with some random jerk from the sleazy bar, while at least partially inebriated.

She had to get out.

Trying to hurry while he was still in the bathroom, she quickly retrieved her underwear from the floor, pulling them on as she slunk down the hallway to gather her other clothes. She'd gotten her pants and shoes on and was halfway through slipping on her bra when he appeared from down the hall, still nude.

"You're leaving," he observed in gravelly voice, stating the obvious.

Lucy tugged her bra into place and looked up at him. She was taken aback at what almost looked like disappointment on his face. It couldn't be. He was a jerk. She was just the nearest willing warm body he'd run into in the bar when he couldn't find someone younger. "Uh, yeah," she confirmed shakily as she snatched up her sleeveless blouse from the floor. "I'm supposedly so old, right?" she said wryly, deflecting any inclination to try to decipher what the expression on his face meant. "It's probably past my curfew at the senior home." She pulled her shirt over her head, only to see his brow furrow darkly when she emerged.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, his voice now detached and cold.

Growing ever more uncomfortable, Lucy grabbed her jacket, shoving her arms in the sleeves. With a quick pat of the pockets for her phone, keys, and wallet, she headed for the door.

She shot one last glance in his direction, but he didn't lift his eyes to meet her gaze. "Uh, thanks for... Well, thanks," she stammered. And she slipped out the door.

Downstairs, back out in the fresh air of the street, she took a shaky breath, her hand pressed to her chest.

Even if she hadn't been drinking so much earlier, she still wouldn't have felt steady enough to make the drive back to her mother's house. With a sidelong look up at his apartment, she turned to hurry away down the sidewalk, pulling up her Uber app as she went.


A few hours later, a world away from what she'd originally hoped would be quiet conclusion to the tumultuous evening, home with Amy and their mother, Lucy found herself being unceremoniously shoved into a dim room by some Homeland Security officer.

"You know what," she protested, "I just need to call-" And the door slammed in her face. "Cool..."

With no other options, Lucy turned to scan the rest of the room.

She gasped when she noticed her companion. And who he was.

Shit...


FIN

...Come on, think about it. It so happened. ;)