Lucy stood in front of Garcia Flynn, her hand shaking as she held the pearl-handled gun. His hands were up, and he stared at her with bemusement and a hint of caution. She couldn't help but notice the slim cut of the double-breasted suit he wore, how it framed him nicely. It was so attractive and it both scared and angered her that she felt that way.

They were alone in a red velvet room. It was dimly lit, making shadows across Flynn's face. It made him look evil, like a monster from a horror story, but he wasn't that, not really. More of an antihero, if Lucy was being completely honest with herself.

Lucy trembled, unsure what to do next. He was standing right there and she could end everything. All the heartache he caused, the changes in history he made, all the things he said whenever they found each other alone in multiple time periods. For all the pain he had caused Wyatt with the misinformation about his wife's killer. It was becoming too much for her, and she just wanted it to end.

Besides, she reassured herself, she killed Jesse James. What's to say she couldn't shoot a man again?

"How about we put the gun down and talk about this?" Flynn suggested in a soft voice.

Lucy let out a shaky breath and nodded. As much as she hated that he saw right through her, she was relieved to lower the gun. She wasn't quite ready to set it down, more because the tiny gun was acting as an anchor than anything.

Flynn kept his hands up, but slowly started to approach her. "Why were you trying to kill me, Lucy?" he asked.

Lucy closed her eyes and shook her head, reluctant to answer. She wrapped her free arm around herself, causing her wrap to fall off one shoulder.

"I'm thinking it's because you finally got me alone with a weapon, you're harboring intense feelings for myself and Rittenhouse, and I'm a convenient target," he observed.

She finally opened her eyes. Flynn had lowered his hands, but stood on the other side of a table. Lucy couldn't help but appreciate the distance he was keeping between them.

Realizing he wanted a yes or no answer, she nodded in agreement. Flynn gave her a curt, understanding nod.

It was silent between them. It was a thick, tense sort of silence, the kind that increases the anticipation of things to come, no matter the outcome. It was crushing in a way that Lucy found it hard to breathe.

"I just want it to be over," she finally whispered. "I just want all of this…the hunting, the killing, the chasing…I'm so tired of looking over my shoulder. I'm tired of being afraid that you or Rittenhouse is going to kidnap or kill me."

She saw his dark eyes soften with empathy and a hint of pain. The look made her want to cry.

"I understand, Lucy," he replied. "I want this all to be over, too."

"Then why don't you end it?" she asked. "Why don't you…why don't you just stop?"

Flynn shook his head. He ran a hand through his hair, briefly avoiding her intense gaze. Finally, he dropped his hand stared straight at her.

"It's too late for me now," he said.

Lucy nodded. "For me, too."

Cautiously, Flynn moved around the table, slowly approaching her until there was barely a foot between them.

"Then why don't we work together? We have the same goal in mind, even if our approach is...different."

Lucy looked away for a moment. She thought about what he was asking, what it would mean for herself, for Wyatt and Rufus and Jiya in the end.

When she turned her attention back to him, unwrapped her arm, stood taller, her chin tilting up, and raised her gun in surrender.

"Let's end it all for good."