Written for templemarker for the TroublesFest 2013 challenge. Thanks to Killabeez and Dorinda for hand-holding me to the trope.

Continuity: ha! But let's say back half of season 2-ish, after "Audrey Parker's Day Off" but before "Business as Usual." Roughly.


Audrey woke to a warm presence against her front...and another cuddled against her back.

She held perfectly still, trying to gather her wits and her memories. Last she remembered, she and Nathan and Duke had been in the bar at the Grey Gull. Duke had a free hand with the alcohol but Audrey hadn't been drinking all that much and she certainly should have remembered bringing someone upstairs with her. Much less two someones.

Audrey carefully tilted her neck to look down her body, noting she was clothed in her favorite soft sleeping camisole. She wasn't...surprised, exactly, to see Nathan curled up with his head against her breasts, and definitely relieved; the list of possible suspects she might have wanted to discover in that position was a short one. But she and Nathan had been playing one-step-forward-two-steps-back since practically the moment Audrey arrived in Haven and she should remember, dammit, if they'd finally—

She froze as a broad warm hand glided over her hip with a familiar and affectionate motion. "Hey, you're awake," a husky voice said in her ear, and Audrey had a second simultaneous moment of not-surprise and relief...along with a certain wry amusement at her own reaction.

Duke slid his hand up, reaching around Audrey's body to ruffle at Nathan's hair before settling again with his arm slung comfortably over her shoulder. The body language was casual, practiced, and way too relaxed for a first-time encounter. She and Duke weren't anywhere near this kind of step in their friendship, as much as Audrey liked him. Not that she would have been opposed to a fling if their circumstances had been different, but it seemed even more impossible that he and Nathan had overcome their many, many issues and she'd missed it.

"Thought we'd sleep in, unless you're ready for waffles? I could go for waffles." Duke's voice was lazily contemplative. "Sleeping Beauty there might take some convincing, though." He shifted closer, his body tight against her back and getting friendlier by the moment. "I bet we could convince him."

"Duke," Audrey finally choked out, honestly torn between hilarity and bewilderment. "How did we get here?"


It took a couple of confused moments for Audrey to make it clear that no, she really didn't remember being in a threesome with Duke and Nathan, and she particularly didn't remember that the three of them had been together for the past two months. By then Nathan had started to stir, his face nuzzling at her breasts in an altogether too familiar manner.

And God, she hated like hell to gently push him away, but there really wasn't any other conclusion to be drawn from the available facts. "Nathan, wake up. This is a Haven thing."

Nathan's head came up, his expression still bleary with sleep. "We got a call?"

"No. It's— it's us." Audrey took a deep breath and gathered the blanket around her as she spoke. Probably too late for modesty, all things considered, but she needed to start somewhere. "The three of us together. I don't remember how this happened."

Nathan sat up fast, the covers falling away from what Audrey did not fail to notice was a very well-shaped chest. "Like amnesia?"

"Like—" she started, but Duke interrupted, his tone heavy.

"Like Audrey's immune to the Troubles, and when something changes in Haven, she's the only one who notices." Audrey twisted around to see Duke's bleak expression. She knew from a few moments ago that he wasn't wearing anything, though the drape of the sheet revealed only his chest and a tempting length of hip. "I should've known it was too good to last."

Nathan had gone very still. Audrey could see him wanting to protest, to insist on his reality as the true version of events, but they all knew better by now. "You really don't remember us getting together?"

"I wish I did," Audrey said, meaning it, and winced as Nathan maneuvered himself away from her like a stranger. On her other side Duke was moving too, and a moment later a long t-shirt hit the side of her head. She shrugged into it while trying not to watch Nathan grab for the faded sleep shorts that were making their escape down his ass, the elastic long worn out.

Audrey glanced down at her now-more-covered chest. The shirt bore the logo of the Grey Gull and fit her like a tent. But it smelled like her, so she'd probably stolen it from Duke at some point.

...in this reality. That detail, more than anything, drove home that this wasn't a dream or falsely implanted memory. Whatever happened during the last two months actually occurred for Nathan and Duke, and only the fact of Audrey's unique immunity to the Troubles kept her from accepting this new version of reality as her own.

And that sucked. Clearly however they'd ended up in this situation, it was a good place. Audrey found it incredibly frustrating and sad that she couldn't remember what Nathan and Duke did. She could've used those kinds of happy memories, dammit.

Being immune to the Trouble also meant she was the only one who could fix it. The past had been altered somehow, like during that terrible repeating day when she'd seen these two men die. These two men she cared deeply about, men she would have been happy to enjoy the current circumstances with under other conditions.

—and the fact that whatever reality-twisting Trouble had put her in this specific situation with these specific men probably bore examination, but Nathan had found his pants and his shirt and his cop face. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Audrey took a moment to glance around, getting her bearings. Her apartment looked like...her apartment, with the addition of men's clothing strewn around: she recognized Duke's faded blue denim shirt and his ridiculous fisherman's sweater, and Nathan's tan jacket had been placed more neatly over the arm of the couch. It made sense, she supposed, that the three of them took up here. No one would raise an eyebrow at Duke staying in his own bar, and Nathan...Audrey didn't actually know where Nathan lived, but he was her partner and might visit her at all hours.

On the other hand Haven was a small town, and the presence of Nathan's truck outside the Gull at night and still there in the morning would've certainly sparked gossip. And Audrey was getting way ahead of herself in imagining the details of this reality she was going to have to break.

"I remember being downstairs at the Gull last night. We were just hanging out, it'd been a quiet week, and we were all glad for the reprieve." She thought back to her version of last night, trying to pick out details. "It was a slow night, so we had the place nearly to ourselves except for a handful of locals. I didn't recognize all of them. I'll have to describe them to you in case this is one of their Troubles."

"Right," Nathan said, his tone unnaturally calm. "What else?"

"Stop it," Duke half-shouted, breaking into the examination. "This is— dammit, Nate, if there's anything you can let yourself get pissed about, it's this, don't shut us out." His voice dropped. "For however long there's still an 'us.'"

Audrey watched, fascinated, as Duke (now wearing a pair of hideous board shorts) moved around the bed to put a hand on Nathan's shoulder. Nathan leaned into the touch, seeking comfort even without being able to feel it.

"If this isn't real," Nathan started, and Duke shook his head.

"Fuck 'real,' this is real." He pointed between the three of them. "This is our life we're talking about and if it changes I don't want to lose you. Either of you." He turned to Audrey, looking fiercely determined. "Promise us."

Audrey blinked at him and levered herself out of bed, finding a pair of jeans to slip on under the oversized shirt. "Promise what?"

"When you fix this, when things go back to the way you knew them, you'll make sure this happens again. Don't give up on us."

"Duke," Nathan said softly, a note of despair in his voice if you knew how to hear it. "She doesn't remember 'us.' Not like this."

"Okay, but— Audrey, you remember things after they change back, right? Like you remembered Nathan and me dying and we didn't. So you'll remember us like we are right now." Duke's face had taken on a stubborn cast. "We could...show you. We could prove that we were meant to be together. Here and now."

Audrey stared at them, seeing the determination on Duke's face, seeing the way Nathan looked like he was actively fighting down hope. It was tempting, she was tempted as hell to indulge in this little...fantasy play, but it would feel like taking advantage when they weren't like this in the life she knew. "I can't. I can't. Even if you're willing now..."

Duke looked mulish but Nathan nodded, looking unhappily resigned. "You think the Trouble brought us together, and if this reality resets, we won't...want to be with you."

"Kind of," Audrey hedged, because not exactly; she would have staked a firm bet on either of them being perfectly happy to wake up with her. Whether they'd willingly put their mutual conflict aside to share this kind of intimacy with each other, though, she didn't know. If this Trouble included any kind of subconscious coercion, she didn't want to compound the offense.

On the other hand...it didn't seem like they were in dire straits at the moment, and she could use all the information she could get to work out how this Trouble functioned. At least that made a convenient excuse for a little second-hand indulgence. "But you could tell me? How this...we...happened. I want to hear it all."

"Like you said," Nathan said. "In the bar, slow week." He hesitated, looking for all the world like he wanted to reach out to her. Instead he reached up to cover Duke's hand with his own and Audrey couldn't help a moment of completely unearned, unvarnished delight. Seeing Nathan so willing to express affection felt like a gift.

"You just kept pushing," he continued. "Wanting to know what happened between me and Duke when we were kids. Why I was so..."

"Jerky?" Duke suggested. "Obnoxious? Uptight? Pick a card."

Nathan snorted but didn't pull away. "All of the above. But it wasn't any one thing. Not the tacks, not the fistfight. Just his constant ability to get under my skin. And then you..." He hesitated, making that face that meant he wanted to bite at his lip but knew better.

"You, Audrey Parker," Duke said, holding her gaze. "You blew into town and made Nathan stop using all those old excuses. You made me admit that I cared about— about you, and him, and this town. You're like the, what's it called, the thing in the middle of a seesaw that balances everything out."

"Fulcrum," Audrey said quietly. She looked at them, separated from her by the width of the bed and by two months of memories she didn't share. "So we just decided to go for it? As simple as that?"

"Well," Nathan said at the same time Duke barked a short laugh, and they looked at each other with mutual expressions that Audrey wished she had the code to decipher. Nathan shrugged and glanced back at her. "This is Haven. Nothing's ever that simple. But you...uncomplicated it."

"And we, I mean..." Audrey gestured vaguely around the room. "Aside from the obvious, which I'm sure was spectacular," she said, smiling ruefully, "we've been living together? No arguing?"

"Can't claim that," Nathan said with a wry twist of his mouth. "But it's been quiet these last few weeks, only minor cases, so we had plenty of time to..." He frowned, interrupting his own recitation. "I guess that quiet should've been a clue."

"Why should it've been?" Duke demanded. "Even with the Troubles, Haven has calm weeks. And the three of us, we—" his free hand flailed with frustration. "We've been good. You'd think it would've been a big adjustment but we all just kinda...fell into place. ...and that's another clue, isn't it. Dammit!"

"It all sounds a little too good to be true," Audrey agreed. "Not that I don't think—crap." She shook her head, resolving to stay on track. "Can you tell if anyone else has been affected?"

"There've been more couples around the Gull lately," Nathan said, looking to Duke for confirmation.

Duke nodded. "Yeah. Jamie and what's-his-face, Kevin, they've been flirting like crazy for years and got together last month. And John Carroll finally came out of the closet."

"—and has been dating the new guy over at Jeannie's boarding house. His name's, uh..." Nathan looked blank. "That's weird. I can't remember his name or why he said he's in town."

"A mysterious stranger?" Audrey suggested.

"Just like a crappy romance novel." Duke made a disgusted face. "Don't like what that says about us, though I must've missed the 'threesome' section at B&N."

"Gotta go online for that," Audrey noted. "Okay, I think I got the gist."

Finding the author of the Trouble turned out to be far less harrowing than dealing with the usual kind of Haven problems. In this case it was "author," literally: a frustrated romance writer who'd been seen the three of them together and started writing them into a story as a polyamorous trio.

"But it only works if there's already something there," the young woman told Audrey breathlessly from her table in a quiet corner of the Gull. Audrey hadn't even had to leave the building to find her. "It's like I can give the romance a little nudge. Doesn't work if the characters—um, I mean, the people don't actually want to be together."

It hardly sounded like a Trouble at all, until a quick look at the calendar confirmed Audrey's suspicions. In this reality she and Nathan and Duke had been living in a blissful bubble for two months...while virtually no time passed for the rest of the world. They'd been trapped in slow time, a romance writer's dream of never-ending happiness. But none of them would have willingly chosen to throw the world aside, even for each other.

Audrey watched as the author deleted all the stories she'd written, all the lives she'd altered. And then, narrowing her eyes, Audrey pointed to the computer's garbage can icon. "Take out the trash."

The writer opened the folder and hovered the mouse over "Empty Recycle Bin." She looked up at Audrey. "I'm really sorry. I just wanted the three of you to be happy." Her finger tapped on the mouse and the computer asked if she wanted to permanently delete the items in the bin.

She clicked "Yes."


Audrey caught the edge of the bar as the world shifted and became aware that someone was talking to her. "...Earth to Audrey Parker. Audrey?"

She was sitting on a stool at the Gull, Nathan to her right, Duke behind the bar. Jamie McDonald and Kevin Johnson were bickering as usual, and John Carroll sat nursing a beer and watching the room, waiting—if the story was true—for a handsome stranger to arrive. Audrey glanced around to see the writer in the corner with her laptop, watching them; the young woman nodded to her and deliberately shut the computer's case.

"I'm okay. Just...zoned for a sec." Audrey looked the two of them over, smiling. "It's good to be here with you."

"Where else would we be?" Duke asked, carelessly, as if there could be no other possible answer.

Nathan was watching her, eyebrow raised. "Something on your mind?"

Audrey looked at the two of them. "Come upstairs, both of you," she said. A snap decision, made of her own free will. They weren't guaranteed a happy ending, but who was? "I need to tell you a story."


NOTES

"...shall come to pass." Apologies for using a Fringe aphorism for the title, but since that's where my brain lives these days... (Alternatively, a derivation of 1 Corinthians 15:54, if you'd rather.)

This turned a little meta on me? Whoops.