Hi all! First, thanks so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter of 'Timing'. It means a lot to hear from people who have stuck with that ginormous fic the whole way through.
And this? Well, it's Valentine's Day, so what better time to begin posting a series of fluffy moments to get them from the bunker to where we saw them in 2023?
Once again, apologies if this treads closely to anything anyone else posted post-Miracle of Christmas. I think I skimmed maybe 2 fics on December 21st, but other than that, I've been entirely in the fic-dark since early December. I will catch up on reading, but for now, as before, if this resembles anything else posted out there, it's purely a coincidence of great minds thinking alike.
Lucy presses her hand to her chest, her heart still racing beneath the sweaty skin as she lets her legs fall open so Wyatt can ease himself off her.
It's not that it's exactly a surprise; that same heart has felt like it was about to burst since the moment that, against all odds, he rounded the shed, alive, cradling that precious baby girl. So now? Together? Safe? And in love and finally on the same page? Plus sex?
Well, it's a wonder she didn't just flat-line from a heart attack right in the middle of it, with him inside her.
But she hadn't, and it had been wonderful, squeaky bunker cot with poke-y springs and all.
She just loves him so, so much. And that's really all that matters now.
So, though he hasn't gone any farther than next to her instead of on top of her, Lucy still turns herself and rolls closer to Wyatt, curling around him and snuggling impossibly closer. She presses a kiss to his bare shoulder, feeling almost overwhelmingly happy.
Her smile broadens even more when he follows suit and flips on his side to face her, twining their legs together, their noses practically touching.
"I love you," he breathes.
Lucy feels her face grow warm; it's one thing to have such things slip out in the midst of other heightened emotions, prompted by grief, or fear. And, for as much as she feels for him too, she's not quite used to this new place they've found themselves. But she will be. "I love you," she whispers back, with only the slightest touch of shyness.
And with that, they melt into another kiss, and when they part, they're wearing matching goofy smiles.
At least until Wyatt's expression grows more serious and he reaches up to gently stroke Lucy's cheek. "How are you here?" he wonders aloud. "With me?"
The apologetic undertone in his voice is one part of their relationship that Lucy never wants to get used to. She's not going to dwell on it now, but she is going to do her best to help him get over any lingering guilt as they move forward. For now though, she just covers his hand with hers and kisses him once more, insistently, until she feels him break out into a smile against her lips.
She giggles, he chuckles, and then he pulls her even closer, folding her into his embrace against him.
Lucy lets out a contented sigh as her gaze flits up past his shoulder to the mistletoe she'd hung. She tries to hold in the grin that threatens; she's pretty sure that he'd seen right through the flimsy excuse about Agent Christopher having hung it, but really, she'd just been the tiniest bit worried that he might retreat back into that reticent guilt over everything that had happened and would need a little external push towards allowing himself to just be, and to be with her. Thankfully, he hadn't let the return to the bunker setting get to him and the little festive sprigs had proven superfluous in the end.
But then her line of sight settles just beyond the mistletoe, focusing instead on Wyatt's military duffel bag, empty again for now, scrunched up in one of the cubbies lining the wall.
Her heart, otherwise so full of joy, breaks a tiny bit.
She's already well aware that this – what she feels for Wyatt – puts their relationship in a whole different category that any other relationship she's ever had. Those other lukewarm "I love you"s that she'd reluctantly allowed herself with a small handful of other guys? Reluctant for good reason, because it turns out that they were lies anyway. Those weren't love. This was love. And different in the best way.
But also in the worst way.
Wyatt's no fellow professor, from the biology department, disappearing for a month each summer to measure lichen growth in the arctic tundra. No accountant going into income tax-induced isolation in March and April. No doctor Noah getting a call for a patient at odd hours.
He's a soldier, and before meeting him, she'd never have imagined herself even considering a relationship with a military guy. Amy had always loved the idea – the intrigue, the romance, the fit bodies. Lucy? Way too practical for such whims. For one, what could she and some soldier have had in common? And two, she'd always known herself well enough to know that she wasn't the type that would fare well with the hardships of separating for deployments, the constant worry over combat. Honestly, she has no idea how military partners handle it.
But that's the difference, isn't it? Because here they are. Fate, or luck, or… whatever, had intervened and given her heart to a soldier. And now she's going to have to learn how to handle it.
The last thing she wants to do is cast any sort of shadow over this moment, over this day, especially given that it's Christmas Eve on top of everything else, but she's already seen the bag.
And she's always been a planner; she just wants to know what to expect.
"Wyatt?" she whispers tentatively, trailing her hand over his chest, like she could somehow memorize the feel of him under her fingertips.
He's clearly hovering on the edges of a post-orgasmic snooze and just sighs a "Hmmm?" as his hand runs over her ribs, her hip, her backside, pulling her closer.
Lucy shivers at his touch on her bare skin, but the melancholy thought won't be denied.
"How long before you have to leave?" she murmurs.
Wyatt's eyes fly open and his confused blue gaze locks onto hers. "What? Leave?"
"We're… done. Here," Lucy shrugs, nodding to the bunker in general, a bit confused by his confusion. "You said you have to go back to Pendlet-"
His fingers dig into her hip as he cuts her off with a vehement head shake. "I'm not going back."
Lucy's jaw drops. "What?"
"I already talked with Agent Christopher while you were in the shower," he explains, his touch more gentle as his thumb strokes her side. "I'm not going back. I report directly to her from now on. Special Projects. Bay area only."
Stunned, Lucy rockets up to a sitting position, the bed's sheet and thin blanket falling away from her bare chest. "But…" she stammers, "…that's your… career there." Absently, she reaches for the sheet, tugging it up to cover herself as a reflex; she's not yet used to being quite so brazenly naked, in front of Wyatt or in the bunker at all. She grips it tightly, her brow still furrowed in concern over Wyatt's news. "Can you even-"
Wyatt shoots right up to a sit next to her, cutting her off harshly. "I don't give a damn about a career." His expression and tone soften then, and he rests his hand on her knee. "Lucy, even if I couldn't admit why," he reasons, his voice intense. "I didn't want to leave you back when you first asked about going back to Pendleton. Like hell am I going anywhere now."
Lucy's heart swells once more, and tears well up in the corners of her eyes. It's so, so Wyatt to just recklessly give up everything he knows, but the last thing she wants is for him to let any of that lingering guilt to derail his-
She doesn't get to finish her thought, never mind spit out any sort of a coherent protest.
"I was gone… a lot," Wyatt continues, his voice hushed and his gaze downcast. He reaches for Lucy's hands, lacing his fingers through hers before saying anything more. "With Jess. My Jess," he corrects, stealing a quick glance up at Lucy. "No, she wasn't crazy Rittenhouse, but we had… problems," he admits with a sigh. "Being stationed different places, getting deployed…" He rubs his thumb over her knuckle. "It let me run away from those problems. And made them worse. Worst part?" He poses with a wry chuckle. "I let it happen. Like I didn't care. Or didn't care enough." With that, he squeezes Lucy's hand and draws his gaze back up to look her in the eyes. "I care now. I'm not leaving you like that."
Forget just welling up; after that admission, tears are slipping down Lucy's cheeks in spite of her best efforts to ward them off. She still doesn't love the idea of him sacrificing the job he'd devoted his entire adult life to, but hearing him explain all of that… Honestly, if it came to it, she'd be just as willing to give up teaching to be able to be with him. So she can't exactly hold that against him. "I love you," she blurts out again with a sniffle, half-laughing at herself as she swipes at the wayward tears.
Wyatt reaches up to thumb away her tears as well, even as his eyes look a tad shinier too.
"I love you too. That's kind of the point," he adds with a smirk.
Lucy knows exactly where their next kiss is headed when Wyatt's hand falls away from her face and gets planted on the mattress as he leans into her.
But for as willing as she is to go along with that – so willing, so very willing – one thing he'd said still rattles around in the back of her mind.
That curiosity refusing to take a back seat even as Wyatt's knee is nudging her legs apart prompts Lucy to freeze and ask in confusion, "Wait- What… special projects?"
"I don't know," Wyatt shrugs, pausing and propping himself up on one elbow. "She's Homeland Security. College kids overstaying their visas? Foreign hackers at Microsoft?" he surmises, then stops to consider. "Part of the orders is that I do actually need to learn Russian, so maybe."
Fleeting notions of KGB spies and poisoned agents flicker through Lucy's mind with a hushed "Wow…" But she squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head ever so slightly in an effort to push that from her mind; she obviously watched too much of The Americans before this whole time travel fiasco began.
He must be able to see the concern written all over her face because right away, he's reassuring her, "Bottom line, I'm staying with you, whatever it takes. Even if I go AWOL and just drive an Uber forever."
Lucy knows she'll still worry, especially once he's in on top secret projects that she's not a part of, but that's not really the here and now, especially now that his body is flush with hers, pressing her to the thin mattress as he trails lines of kisses up and down her neck.
But she still can't quite focus. She was wrong; it wasn't one thing rattling around. The special projects thing, yes, but there's something else too.
One more thought refuses to be silenced.
"…Wyatt?" she murmurs in his ear.
He hums more than speaks his reply of "Mmhmmm?" given the incessant press of his lips to her jawline.
Lucy breathes in a deep sigh, nearly slipping up and letting herself give in to the feel of him. But really, doesn't that just reinforce the very thing she still wants to talk about?
She ends up a little lost in that pensive moment, quiet and still enough in spite of Wyatt's best efforts at renewed seduction that he eventually pulls up and away from her neck, concern etched all over his face.
Lifting her hand up to his cheek, she tries to gently smooth the worry from his face with her thumb.
What they've been through? Even just recently… It's a lot. The time travel, finally being rid of Emma, the Jessica mess… and now Russian and him staying local for her and… well, who even knows. But the one thing that never wavers, never disappears from all the possible imagined futures that are could await them, is him. In her life, always. Just as she could envision her entire life without him when she'd thought he was dead, now she only sees him.
Wyatt's brow furrows deeper the longer she studies him. "You ok?" he asks softly.
She loves him so, so much.
"Can we get married?"
She just couldn't keep it in any longer.
Of course, Wyatt had no way of seeing that coming, and if she wasn't so nervous about his potential responses, she might have been amused by the utterly stunned expression on his face as he freezes above her.
"I know it's crazy," she spits out hurriedly in an anxious bid to fill the silence. "We've only been together… three days? I just can't imag-"
"Yes."
Lucy's heart skids to a halt, because as much as she wanted that answer, the hope for it is a far cry from actually hearing it. "Really?" she breathes in disbelief, tears springing to her eyes anew.
Wyatt just laughs, reiterating an emphatic "Yes" with an incredulous shake of his head.
Her own shaky laugh of relief slips out, but Lucy's still not entirely convinced. "You don't think it's crazy?"
"Oh, it's insane," Wyatt chuckles with a smirk. But then his face grows somber and he props himself back up into a sitting position next to her. "I also think that a week ago – days ago, really…" His voice cracks then, and he shakes his head in what looks to be defeat. "Lucy, I wouldn't have blamed you for never even speaking to me again."
Hating that thread of guilt that just always seems to resurface, Lucy sits up, too focused on him to bother with the sheet this time, and she reaches to squeeze his hand, a small reassurance that she's not dwelling in that past.
He squeezes back with a wan smile. "And now you want to get married? No way I'm missing this chance."
It doesn't escape Lucy that, where their hands are linked, he's running his thumb over the empty space on her left ring finger.
"Plus," he shrugs as his smirk encroaches once more, "you just saved me from having to figure out what was too soon to ask you."
Lucy has to close her eyes and take a deep breath. It's happening. It's Wyatt and they're together and they love each other and they're getting married. Not only that, she'd asked. But he would have asked anyway and they're finally on the same page and for so long it had felt like they'd just never, ever get there. But they're there. Here. Together. Her heart is most certainly feeling like it's going to burst out of sheer happiness.
She opens her eyes again and, as a stray tear slips down her cheek, she gives Wyatt a watery smile. "I just… don't want to waste more time, you know?" She attempts to explain, still holding tight to his hand. "I can't imagine just… leaving here and getting separate places and going home to somewhere you're not."
"Me either," Wyatt agrees with a smile as he reaches to tuck a stray bit of her bed-tousled hair behind her ear.
She grins right back and kisses him. It's happening.
But then the planner in her rears its ugly head and she leans back, a touch of panic starting to race through her veins at the notion of everything that awaits them. "…wait," she stammers. "Where are we going when we get out of here? What home? And how? Where's your car? Or mine? Or the keys for them? And… my wallet. And ID. Any of our stuff? And I have to get a job. Or my old job. And now we're getting married. And-"
And, oh, she hates her brain for working that way, and for working that way now, but at least it gives her the chance to fall in love with Wyatt that much more when he pulls her toward him and into a hug to calm her down.
"Hey, hey. Relax," he soothes with a low chuckle. "One thing at a time, right? Home?" he says with a shrug. "No way the military kept paying rent this whole time on the temp place they got for me up here, and I'm betting you don't want to stay at your mom's place, so we find somewhere else when we get out of here. Together."
As grateful as Lucy is for Wyatt's embrace and its instant ability to make her feel better, she still lifts her head from where she'd tucked herself in the crook of his neck to eye him skeptically. "The day after Christmas?"
Wyatt tries to backtrack with a sheepish grin on his face. "Uh, probably not," he admits. "So," he continues instead, leaning back down on the pillow, "when we leave here, we just get some swank hotel room for a week or two and put it on the government's tab."
The notion of the two of them hiding out for a week in a luxurious hotel room instantly floods Lucy's mind with golden-tinged memories of their night at Hedy's house and she can't help but grin. Still, she raises an eyebrow, prompting Wyatt to continue.
"We pretty much only need a bed right now anyway," he smirks, and before he even has the full sentence out, Lucy can feel one of his hands under the covers, creeping up her thigh. "Maybe a hot tub," he adds, raking his nails over her skin even higher up her leg. "And then we just get room service. Also courtesy of the US federal government."
Between his teasing touch and the appeal of everything that he's just said, Lucy can't even try to pretend she's able to resist him. "I think I'm convinced," she smirks right back at him, leaning down to kiss him deeply. Though, despite his hands now skimming from her shoulder blades to her thighs and back up again, she does still pull away long enough to reluctantly remind him, "We do have to figure out… real life. At some point."
With a reassuring rub of her back, Wyatt promises, "We'll figure it out. Including getting you a ring and a real proposal." Which Lucy doesn't need – she just needs him – but she still can't deny the little flutter in her stomach that accompanies the prospect of wearing a ring that announces to the world just how much she loves him.
She's still caught up in that fanciful little daydream when he speaks again, a teasing lilt to his voice. "But we have our whole lives to be boring married people, babydoll." Lucy rolls her eyes at that, but they both chuckle softly before he continues, "For now, all we have to do is google places with a hot tub. But first we're going to need to have sex again," he declares.
Lucy is absolutely on board with that – he really is quite addictive – but she still feigns skepticism just to poke fun at him, lifting a playfully wary eyebrow in his direction. "Oh really?"
But Wyatt isn't really playing along in that moment. He looks up at her, replying in all seriousness, "Yes. Because the woman I love more than anything in the world just asked me to marry her and I'd like to focus on that. And because we still have a lot of time to make up for. That ok with you?"
The tears are back yet again, right along with the threat of a heart about to burst with joy.
"Sounds perfect," Lucy agrees, sniffling through a smile as she kisses him once more.
Because it does. It really does.