A/N: Part three is here! This part will cover Christmas through NYE and continue to live up to the M rating so if you're averse to smut there's a portion toward the end you may want to skim through. Thank you so much to all of you who have been reviewing! I know the rating makes this one hard to locate so I appreciate every bit of feedback I get! Don't be shy! I love getting reviews and having a chance to reply to you guys! Thank you again! Happy reading!

angellwings

PART THREE: If It Hurts

"I wish you were a bad man.
I wish you made it easier.
I wish you'd done something unforgivable,
'Cause holding onto you is all that I can do until,
I learn the hands around my throat are my own.
Don't let me know if it hurts,
If it hurts you.
I don't want to be your friend that you turn to,
That you won't pull me close,
But you can't let me go."

-"Don't Let Me Know", SMASH

By the next morning, they've explored the house, looked through all the photos, found the home movies, located their wedding rings that were tucked away in Lucy's jewelry box, and studied up on this life they've adopted as their own. After the argument and the incident, their focus was renewed. Or Lucy's was. She would do anything to avoid talking to him it seemed. Not that he was surprised. She shut him out years ago. If she ever opens up to him again, it will take time. Lots of time.

He was stupid to let himself kiss her like that. Not that he was in his right mind at the time. Some part of him who remembered Lucy as she was before he shattered her had taken over in that moment. The Wyatt of 1941 who remembered her hesitance and her nerves and how huge that step had been for them. The Wyatt who imagined their future was a wide open road of possibilities.

The idealistic hopeful Wyatt who thought maybe his life was finally coming together after years of misery and guilt...only to be shown how incorrect he really was by one goddamn text.

Yesterday happened because a long buried part of him wants to be that version of himself again. But he can't. She doesn't want him - the version he offers her won't matter. However, he can't let the fight that came before the incident stand. There were very serious fears and feelings brought up in that fight. He said some things he regretted and accused her of things she didn't deserve. At the very least they need to talk about that.

So, as they're silently eating breakfast the next morning he decides to try and bring it up. It's a risk that could prove fatal, but he has to take it.

"Lucy," he says as he folds his paper and puts it away. He looks over to find her scrolling through photos on her phone. Something she's been doing since she came back out after their fight the night before. "We should talk about yesterday." Her finger freezes over her phone screen and he knows what she thinks he means so he continues hurriedly. "About our fight yesterday."

"You mean the fight where you accused me of wishing you were dead?" She asks him with a quirked brow and pursed lips.

He sighs with an apologetic glance and nods. "I—I'm sorry. That was unfair and unkind."

Both eyebrows fly upward in a shocked expression. "You're what? Did you just...are you apologizing to me?"

"Yes," he says with a nod. "I want to make sure that you and I are on good terms, Lucy. We have two little people to take care of and I don't want them affected by what is or isn't happening between us. I know what it's like to have parents that don't get along and I don't want that for the girls or for us."

She puts her phone in her back pocket and watches him carefully for a long moment before her guard finally falls and he sees a rare glimpse of vulnerability across her face.

"I'm sorry too," she tells him honestly. "I should never have thrown Jessica in your face like that. That was cruel of me."

He shrugs with a self deprecating smile. "I started it by talking about Flynn the way I did." He meets her eyes with a somber expression. "I shouldn't have done that. No matter how I felt about him, I know he was your friend. I'm sorry that you lost him. I'm sorry about Amy too. You deserve to have her back."

"Thank you," she replies quietly.

"I know I'm not generally the person you want to talk to about those things anymore, but if you ever need to talk I'm here," he promises.

"Even about Flynn?" She asks warily.

He nods, though internally he questions that decision. He's not entirely sure he could handle a whole conversation about Flynn, but he will try it if she needs him to. "Even about Flynn."

"I appreciate that," she answers. But he can tell she doesn't believe him.

"What took you guys so long? Don't you know it's Christmas Eve?" Amy asks loudly as soon as Denise opens her front door.

Lucy and Wyatt exchange amused glances at the scolding stare she gives them. Lucy recognizes it as a trait of her own and chuckles. If she needs proof that these girls are hers then that's it.

"Yeah! The tree's not even up! We gotta scoot!" Flynn yells in agreement as she scrambles to put on her jacket. She misses the sleeve several times before Denise finally chuckles and holds it up for her.

"Need some help there, squirt?" Denise asks jovially.

Wyatt grabs Amy's jacket off the hook by the door and holds it out for her. As he turns a questioning look on Flynn. He doesn't ask a question but Lucy sees it in his eyes. Michelle comes to the door with the girls' backpacks and the two totes Lucy packed the day before. They put the backpacks on the girls and each take a tote in one hand and a twin in the other.

"Thank you for this, Denise," Lucy says as she leans in and hugs her as best she can given her full arms.

"Anytime, these two are a joy to have around," Denise assures her. "We had a blast. Oh, and Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Wyatt replies eagerly. The last time he said that was in a far less cheerful situation. He sounds to her as if he's been dying to say it again under better circumstances.

They get the girls strapped in to their seats and then pull out of Denise's driveway. The girls chatter a mile a minute the entire ride home. Wyatt's eyes meet Flynn's in the rear view mirror and he must finally decide to give a voice to the question she saw in his gaze earlier.

"Where did you learn 'scoot'?" He asks her.

She gives him the most adorable bewildered look and an over exaggerated shrug. "From you, daddy. You said Grandpa Sherwin used to say it, member?"

He grins adoringly at her and nods with a misty eyed look of recognition. "I remember. I just didn't know you did."

"You always say it when we're running late," Amy adds. "Which is a lot." Amy leans forward in her seat as if she's trying to tell him a secret and then talks in a hoarse tone of voice that's meant to imitate a whisper. "Mommy spills things and has to change."

Wyatt laugh softly and nods. "Why am I not surprised?"

She slaps his arm weakly but laughs right along with him. How is possible to cherish these girls as much as she does? She barely knows them, but she knows every part of her claims them. Everything else about this situation may be up in the air but they are a constant delight.

As soon as they make it through the door, the girls run straight for the Christmas decorations.

"Come on!"

"Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

There is no more time for her to think about their fight or the conflicting emotions Wyatt caused in her the night before. From then on it is all about the girls. They put up the artificial tree, cover it in homemade decorations and a small collection of ones to commemorate the girls' milestones and favorite things. They set up the small Christmas village on a table near the front window. She watches with the girls as Wyatt sticks the lighted reindeer, Santa, and a Merry Christmas sign in the front yard.

They bake Christmas cookies for Santa and drink hot cocoa while they watch Rudolph, Frosty, and Charlie Brown. They hit all the highlights. It's a Christmas like the ones Lucy had before her mother got sick in their original timeline. Joyous and full of fun. Finally, the girls fall asleep on the couch in new pairs of Christmas pajamas Lucy found amongst their Christmas Presents. Wyatt lifts Flynn from the couch and Lucy picks up Amy. She cradles Amy against her chest and walks toward the stairs with Wyatt close behind. As she lays Amy down in her bed she wakes briefly.

"Don't forget to set the coffee for you and daddy tomorrow," she says sleepily. "You said you would set the timer this year so we don't have to wait for it to open presents. I wanna go straight downstairs after we wake you up in the morning. Okay?"

Lucy grins and chuckles at her as she kisses her forehead and tucks her in. "Okay."

"And can we not sing the song tonight, mommy?" Amy asks. "I need to sleep so Santa will come."

"Sure, baby," Lucy agrees quietly. "Whatever you want."

Amy nods and hugs her with a loud smacking kiss to her lips. "G'night, mommy."

"G'night, sweetheart."

She and Wyatt switch. Flynn is out cold so Lucy brushes her hair away from her face and kisses her forehead. Wyatt shuts the door behind them, leaving it cracked the way the girls like. They pass the guest room on their way to the master bedroom closet for the presents and that's when Lucy actually thinks through Amy's words.

"...after we wake you up in the morning."

Childhood Christmases return to her in quick succession. She and her Amy waking Carol and Henry each year. Barging into their bedroom and climbing into bed with them until they begrudgingly trudged downstairs for coffee and presents.

Shit.

Her hand grabs Wyatt's arm as he's loading presents into them and he gives her an expectant look.

"You can't sleep in the guest room tonight," she says with frantic eyes and a shake of her head.

The reason why seems to occur to him without her uttering a word. She sees understanding dawn on his face as he nods dutifully. "Right. Good call."

But is it really a good call? It doesn't feel like a good call. It feels like a mistake.

They wrap the girls' gifts in silence. They're still feeling awkwardness from the day before and added awkwardness from the night to come. They haven't slept side by side since 1941 and given the last time they were alone there were several ways that everything could go very wrong.

The gifts are put out under the tree, Santa's cookies are eaten, and the reindeer have snacked on the carrot sticks the girls insisted on leaving for them. With everything done and an early morning ahead for them, they reluctantly head to bed. They wordlessly get ready at their his and hers sink, sneaking glances at each other in their peripherals. Lucy changes into her own pair of Christmas Pajamas and leaves a t-shirt and pants that match her and the girls out for Wyatt should he want them. The other versions of themselves wore new matching pajamas every Christmas morning. The girls will expect it tomorrow but that doesn't mean he has to wear them tonight.

Before he comes out of the bathroom, she slips under the covers and turns on her side to face her nightstand. They can do this and it will be fine. They are grown adults who can share a bed without losing total control of themselves. Besides, the bed is huge. If she sticks to her side then it's likely she'll never know he's there.

Or that's what she tells herself.

Waking up in the morning proves to be a totally different story.

She's not sure how it happened because when she fell asleep she was firmly planted on her side of the bed, but she wakes up with her arms around Wyatt Logan and her head resting on his chest. Her legs are tangled with his and his cheek is resting on the top of her head. She feels one arm wrapped around her while the other rests on top of her arms that encircle his middle.

The sun is just barely peeking through their windows and she hears no sounds of little feet. The girls are still asleep.

She decides to risk looking up at Wyatt. She hasn't been this close for this long in several years. His eyes are closed and she can feel his chest rising and falling steadily. There's a slanted bit of hair across his eyes and his forehead that moves every time he puffs out a breath and it causes a fond smile to spread over her lips. She tugs one of her hands free from his and then reaches up to brush the hair off of his forehead. He looks so quiet and peaceful. She wonders if he normally looks like this when he sleeps or if, like her, he's sometimes plagued by horrible restless dreams. She hopes he isn't. Despite everything that's happened between them she hopes his sleep is more restful than her own.

She bites her bottom lip and then takes a moment to cup the side of his face. She simply wants to feel his stubble under the pads of her fingers again. He's had that beard for a little while now and she missed seeing his face. The beard obstructed the view and knowing him she realizes that was probably on purpose, but whether it was to hide his face from himself or from her she isn't sure.

Blue eyes flutter open as she jerks her hand away from his cheek, but damn him and his reflexes he catches it. Those eyes meet hers and pin her down with sleepy affection. His hand squeezes her hip, just a light pressure, but it pulls her face closer to his. He searches her eyes with a questioning glance before his line of sight drifts down to her lips. She swallows thickly as she realizes exactly what he's thinking about doing. She should move. She should get out of bed and away from him, but she can't. She doesn't want to.

The parts of her that are treacherous and disloyal are eager for another agonizingly sweet kiss and won't let her move. He closes the distance between them, his lips ghost over hers. Longing floods her senses, and just as she's about to reach up and pull him the rest of the way down…

Their bedroom door is shoved open. It's shoved open with so much force that the door knob nearly leaves a dent in the wall as it smacks against it.

The noise breaks the spell he has over her and she swiftly pulls away. She sits up to see Amy, with Flynn just over her shoulder, standing in the open doorway.

"It's Christmas!" She shouts at the top of lungs. "Get up, sleepyheads! It's agically Christmas! I've been waiting all year for it!"

They pull them out of bed and down the stairs. Lucy did set the timer on the coffee the night before as Amy asked. The girls sit on the floor by the tree, physically buzzing with impatience, while she and Wyatt make cups of coffee. The minute their butts hit the couch the girls start distributing presents.

Lucy didn't do the shopping so she feels less like a participant and more like an observer but it doesn't matter because the girls are overjoyed by even the smallest present. It's rewarding enough just to watch them. Neither she nor Wyatt have any family for the girls to visit so there is nowhere to rush off to after their the gifts are open. It might have been sad were it not for the twins, but this family is all the family Lucy really needs.

There's no time that day to talk about their almost kiss and she's immensely grateful for it. She's also grateful that once the girls are put to bed that night, much later than normal because it's Christmas, Wyatt goes back to the guest bedroom without complaint. That means that for the time being, Lucy doesn't have to worry about waking up in his arms again.

Everything about waking up that morning was so cozy that it felt like a dream. She almost felt like her old self again. It left her weakened and open to that near kiss. It would have been a wonderful kiss but it would have been a mistake. She and Wyatt are too messy. The only way to stop their cycle of hurting each other is just to stop. That's exactly what she's trying to do and mornings like the one she had this morning will not help her resolve.

They both throw themselves into being parents and learning all they can about the girls. Every day is filled with games, some of their own creation. They have a game they play with Wyatt called "Boot Camp" which they discover is just Wyatt putting them through kid friendly versions of drills and then letting them tackle him to the ground. It's ridiculously adorable and, for the first time, Lucy adds pictures to the camera roll on her phone. She knows she shouldn't because seeing Wyatt with their girls will always weaken her resolve to stay away from him but the images would have replayed in her memory anyway.

The longer they share this house and the girls, the more she wants this life to be real. The more time they spend, just them and the girls, the more they both soften. The more their scars heal. The more dangerous being around him becomes. She tries to stay focused on the twins and keep her feelings for Wyatt in a separate box. Usually, it works.

It's the end of the day, a few days later, when the four of them are huddled on the couch sharing blankets and popcorn as they watch the latest animated hit when something happens that will upset Lucy's delicate system of compartmentalization.

"We found daddy's stuff in the guest room today," Flynn announces as she looks between Lucy and Wyatt. "Is daddy sleeping in the guest room?"

Both she and Wyatt visibly wince. Oh no. No.

"Just for a little while," Wyatt answers.

"Why?" Flynn asks. Her little lip pokes out in a pout that threatens to break Lucy's heart. "Did you have a fight?"

"No, babygirl," Wyatt answers as he pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head. "We didn't have a fight."

"But you share the big room," Amy says with a furrowed brow. "The guest room is for people we don't know. And we know daddy. He should be in the big room with you, mommy."

She has to think of something. Some reason that won't upset them. "The—the other bed is...better for daddy's back. That's all."

Wyatt's eyes narrow at her thoughtfully. She knows he doesn't have any back problems but he nods and plays along anyway. "Yes. It's a more comfortable bed for my back."

"Then why don't you move that bed into your room?" Amy asks as she grabs the last handful of popcorn.

"Yeah! Or maybe mommy should move into the guest room with you!" Flynn says as she turns to Wyatt with bright eager eyes. "That way you're still together!"

They both look panicked. They have no response prepared because they didn't see this coming. Wyatt got up before the girls every morning to keep them from finding out and they keep the guest bedroom door closed at all times. They never talked about what they would do if the girls found out.

Lucy grabs the empty popcorn bowl from between Amy and Flynn and stands from the couch. She nods pointedly toward the kitchen.

"We need more popcorn. Why don't you come and help me out, darling."

"Of course. Right away, honey."

"That's code," Amy whispers to Flynn. "They're gonna talk about us."

Lucy closes her eyes and bites back a laugh. When she meets Wyatt's eyes she finds a similar look on his face. The panic is still there, but there's also humor to be found. Their girls are much too smart. They were naive to think they could fool them for long.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Lucy puts another bag of popcorn in the microwave and then turns to Wyatt.

"What do we do?" She asks.

"Well, I don't think we have very many options," he says as he runs a hand over his face and scratches at a beard that isn't there anymore. "Either you move into the guestroom, I move into the master bedroom, or we tell them the truth."

"We're not telling them the truth," Lucy replies immediately. "You saw Flynn's face before. I don't want to see that again." She absently places a hand over her aching heart as the visual of Flynn's quivering lip returns.

"God, that bottom lip," Wyatt agrees as he takes a deep breath. "That nearly killed me."

Lucy sighs in resignation. She knows what has to happen. There's no way to avoid it. "You'll move into the master bedroom with me. I mean, if you want to."

"If it makes the girls feel better about it then I want to," he replies. "It's the best way to avoid questions. Besides, that's a big bed. We'll be fine."

He seems unsure as he turns and adds time to the popcorn, but whether he's sure or not doesn't matter. This is what has to happen.

So she nods and repeats his words to reassure herself. "We'll be fine."

She has to repeat those words to herself again later that night when a colleague from Stanford calls to ask what she's wearing to the faculty New Years party the following night.

She doesn't know this person but this person seems to know her as she asks, "You and Wyatt are coming, aren't you? People are wanting to make a big deal out of your new tenured status. You have to come. And we all know Wyatt won't let us brag about you without him along."

Well, fuck.

"Yeah, we'll be there. I just haven't decided what I'm wearing yet."

Why? Why did she say that?

She's near frantic as she tells Wyatt while they get ready for bed that night. He chuckles at her and kneels next to her as she sits on her side of the bed.

"Lucy, we have gone undercover in so many time periods and under much greater strain than this. A party with a bunch of professors will be cake," he tells her. "We've played the happy couple once before. We can do it again, and this time we won't run the risk of being gunned down by Bonnie and Clyde. We'll be fine."

"Is that our mantra now?" She asks him with a halfhearted grin. "We'll be fine?"

He smirks and shrugs. "Anything we deal with in this timeline is infinitely easier than Rittenhouse. So, yeah, that's our mantra. We'll be fine. We've been in tougher spots with much lower odds."

They share a knowing look and scoff as they speak up in perfect synchronization.

"The Alamo."

That causes a much needed laugh to bubble up in her chest. He's right. They've been through worse. How hard can it be to convince her coworkers they're an actual couple? They managed to convince Bonnie and Clyde once upon a time, didn't they? They could do this as long as they worked together.

They drop the girls off again, this time with Rufus and Jiya. The girls probably won't stay up till midnight but their friends are excited for the company anyway.

Flynn runs straight for Rufus as he opens the door.

"Uncle Rufus," Flynn cries. "Lightsaber fight! Please?"

"As long as you don't hit your sister this time," Rufus tells her with a stern glance and a quirked brow.

"I will be very careful. I promise," Flynn says with her hands folded under her chin. The picture of angelic intentions. "Please?"

"Fine," he agrees with light laugh. "Let me talk to your mom and dad first though. Okay, my young Padawan?"

"Okay, Master Jedi," Flynn says with a small bow before she scampers off to join Amy and Jiya in the living room.

"I cannot tell you how ecstatic I am that one of your little rugrats is a Star Wars fan," Rufus tells them both with a huge smile. "It means I'm the cool uncle. I've never been the cool anything."

"Yeah, I wonder how that happened?" Wyatt asks him with a knowing smirk. "Cause neither Lucy or myself know a thing about it. So who do you think showed it to her?"

Lucy hums thoughtfully and taps her chin with playful cluelessness. "Who could it be? Who do we know that likes Star Wars?"

He rolls his eyes at them and chuckles. "Okay, okay, so I planted the seed but she didn't have to like it. Amy didn't. Nope, Flynn took to it all on her own. I just made sure she was aware it existed. That's all."

"Right," Wyatt tells him with a chuckle. "We'll be back to pick them up in the morning. Is that okay?"

He nods. "Yeah, that's okay. We haven't gotten to spend some one on one time with them in a while so we're good. You guys just focus on having a good time. I know it'll be difficult with all those boring professor types around — No offense, Lucy."

She chuckles at him and then shrugs. "None taken. Most of the time I agree with you."

"You guys gonna be okay, though?" Rufus asks. "I mean it has to be hard pretending to be a couple all the time, right?"

Not as hard as it should be. "We'll be fine," he says as he tosses Lucy a secretive grin.

She rolls her eyes at him but grins too as she recognizes their new catchphrase. "Totally fine."

"Well, you guys seem to be getting along better," Rufus says in obvious relief. "I was worried you guys might actually kill each other, at first."

To his surprise Lucy speaks before he can. "I don't think either of us meant even half the hateful things we said to each other, Rufus." She flashes Wyatt a sheepish smile and lifts one shoulder. "Or at least I didn't."

He agrees. They've gotten along well since arriving in this timeline and he's started to think that their environment may have contributed more to their resentment than their actual resentment.

"We were in a god awful situation," Wyatt says with a conflicted sigh. "We didn't know how to cope."

Hell, even in a good situation they didn't know how to cope. That's how they ended up sleeping together in their timeline and in this one.

"I'm glad to see you guys figuring that out, then," Rufus says with an encouraging smile. "All of us just want the two of you to be happy."

Lucy scoffs at that and shakes her head. "Easier said than done, Rufus."

An awkward silence surrounds them at Lucy's pessimistic comment. Wyatt understands the sentiment. If not for the girls he feels like he would be miserable. There would be no reason to see Lucy. No excuse to stay together. They would have likely followed through with those threats of divorce and parted ways. He would have ended up spending all of his time alone and drunk just like he did in those early dark days after Jessica died.

Sometimes, it feels like he's meant to wallow in guilt forever. Because he still is, even now. Guilt over every decision he ever made after he received that text message from his not-so-dead wife. Guilt over choosing someone he knew he didn't love instead of Lucy. Guilt over allowing his stubborn pride to keep him from groveling for her forgiveness in the years since. Guilt over being too goddamn chicken to say all of that to her face right now.

Basically, just guilt.

Wyatt clears his throat and checks his watch. "We should go. We're already running late. Thanks, man. We'll be back here for the girls in the morning."

"See you then. Happy new year!"

"Happy new year," Wyatt replies. He gives Lucy a worried glance when she doesn't say it back and then shrugs apologetically at Rufus.

Something is going on with Lucy, all of a sudden. She's in her head. He wishes she would talk to him about it but she never does. Not anymore. He waves to Rufus and then turns to head toward the car. Lucy follows automatically with an unfocused gaze. The drive to the party is quiet and every time he glances over at her she's staring at her wedding ring and gnawing on her bottom lip. There are a few heavy thoughts reverberating through her head, he can tell.

When they park on campus and head to the history building and she still hasn't spoken, he finally has to ask.

"Are you okay over there, Lucy? You've been quiet since we dropped off the girls."

She looks up and gives him a forced smile. He knows she's lying through her teeth when she answers him. "I'm fine."

As they approach the door to the building he holds out his hand for hers.

"We should probably make it convincing, yeah?" He asks as he holds a nervous breath. He's not sure why he's nervous. He knows this is all just an act, but in this moment it doesn't feel like an act. It feels like a first date. Like a long overdo completely awkward first date.

She takes his hand after a torturous moment of silence and laces their fingers together and then the minute they step through the door it's as if she's a completely different person. Her face lights up in a smile and she starts chatting with everyone who stops them. She knows their names and their faces and what they teach. He's not sure how.

Then again, at any given moment she knows several hundred things that he doesn't so that's not really a surprise.

She looks beautiful and he wants to tell her that. But he probably won't. She's wearing a simple black dress that stops just at her knees. It has a round neck and long sleeves. She paired it with a flowing open front sweater vest that's covered in a bold geometric pattern in various jewel tones. Her locket, that he thought was lost forever, hangs around her neck. That must be another pleasant side effect of this timeline shift. On her feet are a pair of heeled black ankle boots. Her short hair is styled softer. It falls in loose waves around her face. She looks relaxed. She looks confident. She's in her element and amongst her intellectual equals.

And yet he still sees a shadow in her expression. The same one that appeared on Rufus's doorstep and won't go away.

He's not sure if it's for the sake of the act or to assure himself she's okay, but he keeps one hand on her at all times. His hand is either on the small of her back, the back of her neck, or around her waist all night long.

It's ten minutes till midnight and he decides that now is the time to get the champagne for their toast. He squeezes her hip and drops a kiss to her temple as he leaves her and it's not until he's in line at the bar that he even realizes he did it. It is automatic and instinctive and somehow ingrained in his very being. Standing by her side all night and being her supportive husband comes entirely too naturally to him. The scariest part is that he loves it. He loves listening to her talk about her work. He loves hearing people compliment her on her work. He loves how every person she speaks to walks away from her looking awed and impressed. He simply fucking loves being there to witness her greatness. He always has. That will never change no matter what they mean to each other or how they define their relationship.

Normally, they're on a mission and she's giving him a lecture on the run. He knows he respects the hell out of her skills but he has no frame of reference for how her peers see her. Tonight is giving him that context and it's abundantly clear to him that, despite her deflection when they first met some years ago, she actually is world class.

He comes back with two glasses of champagne with five minutes to spare and finds her chatting amiably with a tall, salt and pepper haired man who is much too handsome for Wyatt's comfort. He looks like he is a few years old than he or Lucy and very distinguished.

She takes her glass from Wyatt and then motions to the newcomer on her other side.

"Wyatt, this is Dr. Emile Emory," she tells him with a wide laughing smile. "Dr. Emory, this is—" she pauses as she stumbles over how to introduce him. It's the first time she's had to and he can tell it makes her uncomfortable. "—my husband, Wyatt Logan."

"Nice to meet you," Wyatt says as he shakes Emile's hand.

"The pleasure is all mine. Your wife is charming. I audited her class for a week last semester and her point of view is revolutionary," Emile says as he releases Wyatt's hand. Does he have an accent? What is that? Is it French? "You are a very lucky man."

Wyatt gives him a small smile and nods. "Thank you, I know. She's brilliant. So are our daughters. Fortunately, they take after their mother."

And what was that? What did he just do? Did he try to use Amy and Flynn to point out that Lucy is taken? Why? Is he feeling jealous of this professor that Lucy has just met? And also despite the fact that he and Lucy aren't actually together? Not that anyone here knows that. Lucy gives him an odd look but doesn't say anything. He wonders if he'll hear about it later.

A moment after that the countdown begins Dr. Emory excuses himself, leaving Lucy and Wyatt alone for the first time since they walked through the door.

"I'm sorry you had to come to this," Lucy says with a sigh as she meets his eyes. "I'm sure you were bored."

"Not at all," he answers with a reassuring grin. "I enjoyed watching you in your comfort zone tonight. Everyone here loves you. It's obvious. And I'm happy to stand back and watch them revere you like you deserve."

She laughs genuinely and blushes as she swings her head from side to side. "They don't revere me and even if they did I'm not the Lucy they know so it's different."

"Are you still the Lucy who saved history and the world on essentially a weekly basis?" He asks knowingly.

"Well, yes."

"Then it's you and it's not that different."

Over her shoulder he sees someone waiver on their feet and the minute they stumble backwards he pulls Lucy out of the way. She collides against his chest with a soft grunt just as the drunk behind her falls to the floor. Their eyes connect and for a brief moment, everything stops. The room is crowded but he doesn't hear or see anyone else. Just her.

And then she looks away. The connection is gone, but not forgotten.

The man who fell is still sluggishly trying to stand when they come back to themselves. He inadvertently adds distracting levity to the moment.

Wyatt chuckles and quirks a brow at Lucy. "Ah, these wild college parties," he says dryly.

A merry smile forms on her face and the shadow that's been haunting her disappears as she laughs for a second time that night. "Really, some of these people are no better than the students. Before we met, my boss here used to throw parties at the end of each term for morale and I swear it was like attending the most obnoxious frat party you could ever imagine."

"Is that the guy that denied you tenure?" Wyatt asks with a slight glare.

"One and the same. Don't worry he got his. I found out he got fired a few years back for having an affair with a student," Lucy told him with a vengeful smirk. "I always knew he was a slimeball and he proved me right."

The countdown continues around them and Wyatt scratches the back of his neck bashfully. "You know people are going to expect us to—"

"Kiss at midnight. I know. Its fine," she tells him. Though, she looks nervous and not at all 'fine' like she claims.

"You sure?" He asks in concern.

She gives him a tired smile and nods. "Just kiss me, Logan."

His brows creep upward and he nods with an amused grin. "Yes, ma'am."

The countdown finishes and there's shouts of "Happy New Year!" As people around them begin to celebrate. Wyatt's arm goes around Lucy's waist and pulls her tighter against him as he presses his mouth to hers. Her hand that isn't holding champagne comes up to rest on the back of his neck and her fingers slip up into his hair. He's hesitant at first. He still isn't sure Lucy is really okay with a kiss but she defies his suspicions by being the one to nip at his bottom lip first. It's a request to open his mouth to hers and, given the nerves he thought he saw in her, it's not what he expects.

After their last kiss and the almost kiss on Christmas morning, he has no will power to refuse her. Those moments where they lean on each other to cope with ferocious emotions are unforgettable on their own but a tender moment with Lucy is heady. It leaves him yearning, longing to sip from her lips in a way he hasn't in far too long. This New Years kiss is the perfect example of a slow sip. It progresses lazily and deep with unnervingly soft persistence.

Nothing at all like their more recent gruff encounters that bruise and burn like a large swigging shot of whiskey.

No, this kiss takes him back to a guest house with a warm fire burning while Lucy's eyes drink him in with nervous hope. Only this time she doesn't taste like cognac as she did in 1941. This time she tastes like champagne. Bubbly and light and deceptively harmless.

When they pull apart they're both breathless, more from the emotions than the kiss. That's when Wyatt remembers the problem with a slow sip.

One sip is never enough.

Lucy's not sure why she's allowing this to happen, but no sooner had they walked through their front door then she's kissing Wyatt again. His hands were everywhere all night long. Her shoulder, her back, her waist. He's been pulling her in without even trying. All because he reminded her where they were just over a week ago and spun her off on a spiral of thoughts she couldn't seem to shake.

He'd called it a God awful situation and he was right.

They were trapped with no hope of escape and fighting a war they couldn't seem to end. They kept losing people and the idea that they would eventually lose each other felt inevitable. But now…

Now nothing is inevitable. The war is over. They can retire and live the life they want. Not the life that was forced on them. Is this life the one she wants? Is it the one Wyatt wants? Are they letting themselves be trapped by marriage and children?

And then his line about not knowing how to cope. They run to each other to cope, even when they think they can't stand each other. What does that mean? Does it mean anything at all? Is it just convenient? Does he actually want her or is she just there? Does she want him?

She had all of these questions bouncing around inside of her head while she buzzed from person to person at that party. Wyatt followed close behind, always touching her somewhere. Always smiling at her like she was the most mesmerizing creature he'd ever seen. Always there to watch her back should she need it. Steady and constant like she always wanted him to be. Until he wasn't steady or constant. Until he left her behind. Since then she'd forgotten what it was like to have his unwavering support.

Until tonight.

Until the New Years Eve countdown is happening all around them and his lips find hers at the stroke of midnight. Every question she had fled from her mind. All she knew in the moment was the taste of him and the sweet softness that she'd been craving since their last tender slip up.

When they pulled apart the small touches hadn't stopped. Not even when they were alone. One of his hands rested on her knee for the entire drive home and she didn't stop it. She didn't push him away.

Now they're home and she knows she should end this here and now but she can't. She wants this. She wants him, if only for tonight. Layer after layer is shed as they walk and kiss through the house. They're moving at lightning speed now and there's no way she's making it to the bedroom. She's in her bra and underwear and he's in his boxers as he pushes him backward onto the couch. She shoves away her concerns and doubts while she sheds her last two pieces of clothing. She feels them creeping up on her as she straddles him but now is not the time.

She's a jumble of confusion and has no idea what she actually wants from her new freedom. She feels out of control and lost so she's choosing the one thing that's within her immediate reach.

She's choosing him. She's choosing to fulfill the longing he left in her from that last kiss. The one she's been trying to ignore but can't. The one she almost let herself have again on Christmas morning. She wants to feel that tenderness again so badly that it leaves a physical ache in her stomach. Maybe if she allows herself to indulge this need, it will go away. Maybe it will leave her alone.

There's only one way to find out.

Her lips cover his as she tugs his boxers down his hips. He grunts into her mouth as he pulls them the rest of the way off and kicks them aside. She feels him hot against her stomach as she bends at the waist and flattens her chest against his. Being pressed naked chest to naked chest is more sensual than she prepared herself for it to be. It sets off a chain reaction of goosebumps all over her body. She whimpers against him as his hands find her spine and trace over the curve of it. From the base of her neck to the top curve of her ass. His touches are delicate and tender and spread warmth everywhere they go. It's not the hasty rough touches she's been accustomed to and her body reacts accordingly.

She's ready for him so fast that it's almost embarrassing. But god, she's through with foreplay. This whole damn night has felt like foreplay and she just wants him. Before she talks herself out of it, her hand slips between them and finds that he's just as ready as she is. She guides him to her entrance and then sinks down onto him.

"Fuck, Lucy," he moans against her lips.

He's almost lost already and she hasn't even moved yet. Her muscles flutter around him when he shifts, just barely, to adjust his position between her knees and a low groan escapes her. Shit, she's almost lost too. Maybe that's fine. Maybe faster is better. Tender is deceptive. Tenderness makes her think they still stand a chance. It makes her think this game they're playing is real.

That thought has her raising herself from his chest and closing her eyes. This is easier when she can't see his face. It's better without finding that crackling connection of her brown eyes to his blue ones. She leans back and settles her hands on his thighs as she moves.

The slow and gentle portion of the evening is done. She thought she wanted it. She thought she could handle it. Now she knows she can't. Not without falling even deeper in love with him than she still is. So now when she moves it's hard and fast. Urgent and frantic. His hands grip her hips tightly and he does his best to slow her down but she won't be deterred. She's a runaway train and there's no brake strong enough to stop her now.

She bites her lip to keep from crying out his name as he hits his release first and jerks erratically underneath her. The motion causes a jolt of pleasure that immediately sends her over the edge too. She crashes down on top of him with panting breaths, her heart slamming against her ribs.

It takes all of a second for an overwhelming sense of dread to wash over her.

What the fuck did she just do?

She shouldn't have let this happen. She should have walked away from him the minute the door closed behind them. Oh God. Oh fuck. What is wrong with her? This shouldn't be happening at all and now she's let it happen twice?

She crawls off of him without another word and starts gathering her clothes. She's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for him to say something. It takes a moment longer than she expects. He waits until she has her dress in her hands but he doesn't disappoint.

"Lucy—"

"Do you want to take a shower first or should I?" She asks, cutting him off. She spins to face him, but refuses to meet his eyes.

"So, we're not going to talk about this either?" He asks with a frustrated huff.

"What's there to talk about?" She asks with a loud gulp.

"How about why you can't look at me? I think I'd like to talk about that, at least."

His voice is impossibly static. She can't read any emotion from it. It leaves her even less inclined to talk. She takes a deep breath and forces herself to look at him. She pins her gaze to his forehead.

"I can look at you," she says defiantly. "See? I'm looking at you right now."

He nods and she thinks she hears amusement in his tone as he responds. "You're looking at my forehead."

"What is there to say, Wyatt?" She asks with a sigh. "This isn't unusual for us," she insists even though she knows it is.

That was not their usual tryst. It was halfway to honest and loving until she hard reversed and drove it toward the other extreme instead.

She feels his penetrating gaze on her as he follows up her statement with a wholly expected question.

"That was usual for you?" He asks. "It didn't feel...different at all?"

And here's the part where she lies, but she's doing it for their own good. Or that's how she's choosing to justify it, at least.

"No. Why? Did it feel different for you?" She asks as she feigns an attitude that verges on callous.

He sighs in resignation and shakes his head at her. There's a brief pause before he turns and starts to furiously gather up his clothes. "I guess not," he snaps. "My mistake."

The frustration in his tone hits her deep in her chest and causes her to fight off tears. It was different. She knows it was, but she can't admit it. It won't do them any good. If they were able to make it work between them, wouldn't they have done that already? The answers to her questions from earlier in the evening now seem clear. Convenience and shared pain have kept them together. That's all this is. If it were more than that then it wouldn't be this hard.

Would it?

She can't think of anything else to say to him so she slinks off to the master bath and jumps in the shower. She really picked a wonderful way to start 2024, didn't she? Her self destructive tendencies weren't left behind in the old timeline, unfortunately, and they seem to be in full force in the new year too. Tonight was so good until she went and ruined it. God, she hates so much about herself. She has self control. Somewhere within her is the ability to control her actions and force herself to behave. Why couldn't she seem to find that part of her in the presence of Wyatt Logan?

She changes into sweats and a sweater and curls up under the covers before Wyatt's even made it upstairs. He doesn't spare her a single glance as he walks past the bed toward the bathroom. It only adds to the guilt she feels. If she could avoid herself too she would. Hell, she wishes she didn't have to face her own reflection most days. The door slams and she winces. Yeah, he's pissed. She deserves it.

She pulls out her phone and begins to scroll through her emails as a distraction. She has emails from students already, asking for the syllabus, asking for clarification on the books they need for class, asking for extensions on an assignment she hasn't even given out yet. That's when she remembers…

She goes back to work in two days. The new term starts in two days. Wyatt goes back to work the on the second of the month. This life they've fallen into is moving forward and she's nowhere near prepared. She knows the other Lucy had lesson plans somewhere. She found them once while cleaning. She's fine with that. No, the main problem is the girls.

What do they do while she and Wyatt are at work? Is there someone that keeps them? Do they go to daycare? They're four. That's old enough for Pre-K, isn't it? Are they in school? She's up like a shot and searching every document on her desk, every payment in their bank account, every event on the shared calendar in the kitchen. How does she not know where her children are eight hours a day? Why hasn't she thought to figure this out sooner? Not only is she a horrible wife but she's also a horrible mother. Par for the course, she supposes.

By the time Wyatt finds her almost an hour later, the office is a mess and her nails have been chewed to pieces.

"What—what the hell happened in here?" He asks as he takes in the state of the office with wide eyes. "Did you lose something?"

"Yes, my fucking mind," she snaps with a huff.

His brow furrows and his eyes narrow. He waits for her to continue and when she doesn't he sighs and turns to leave. Clearly, she's worn out his patience for the night, and that's entirely fair.

"What do we do with the girls while we're at work?" She asks as he turns back around to look at her.

"Is that what you're trying to figure out?" He asks her as a grin pulls at his lips. "You tore apart your office trying to find out where the girls will go when we go back to work?"

"It's something we should know, don't you think?" She asks him in irritation. He flinches at her sharp words and the grin on his lips flattens into a hard line.

"Yes, it is. And you could have talked to me about it," he says tersely. "But who am I kidding? You don't do that. Not with me."

"Wait, you know?" She asks in surprise as she ignores his jab. He wants to pick a fight and she won't do that. She has nothing to defend herself with anyway. She earned that jab.

"Don't look so shocked," he says with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. "Last time I went to the store I ran into their teacher. They're in her pre-K class. Managed to find out the name of the school and everything. They start back the same day you do. The third. Now, are you going to come to bed or are you avoiding me there too?"

That gets her. The guilt surges forward and her shoulders sag. Water pools in her eyes and she shakes her head at him. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should talk to you. But it's just…."

"Just what, Lucy?" Wyatt asks impatiently as her sentence trails off. "You've been pushing me away and lying to me about how you feel for years now. Why? Why can't you just tell me what you—"

"Because it's too goddamn hard, Wyatt," she says loudly as she stands from her desk. She motions between them before she continues. "This is too goddamn hard and I cannot do it. What we almost were, what we used to be, what we are now — it's all too much to deal with. So I don't. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? I mean it's not like you deal with it either. You said yourself tonight, we don't know how to cope. That sums us up pretty well, don't you think? You can't decide what you want and I'm too chicken shit to speak up for myself and neither of us can cope."

He goes quiet and she knows she's hit a nerve. The silence nearly chokes her but after a moment she decides enough is enough.

"Let's just face it," she says with a sad sigh. "We won't work. We'll never work. We can be parents. We can be there for Flynn and Amy but beyond that...it's too damn hard. You know I'm right. So let's just leave it at that."

She walks out of the office without giving him a chance to say anything else. There's nothing he can say. She's right.

They're too broken and it can't be fixed.

He doesn't come to bed and she doesn't sleep. They don't speak until the next morning when he asks if she wants bacon with her eggs. They pick up the girls and bring them home. Rufus and Jiya notice the tension and the distance. They can see it on their friends' faces but they don't say anything. They don't call them out. It's a mercy Lucy doesn't feel she deserves.

She dives into spending time with girls. They play board games and card games all day long. Once the girls are in bed, Lucy cleans up her office and then starts studying her lesson plans. Wyatt doesn't try to approach her or speak to her unless they're with the girls or he has no other choice. Tomorrow is his first day of work and his first session with his therapist.

She has her first session after her first class the day after that. It'll be a stressful day of firsts and she's already dreading it. Wyatt goes up to bed, eventually, but this time she doesn't. She falls asleep at her desk while trying to catch up on a history that's no longer her own.

She wishes it was. She wishes she could erase what she remembers and replace it with memories from this timeline. She wishes the timeline would change around her and the scars on her heart would cease to exist.

She would be the other Lucy. The Lucy who knew how to be happy. The Lucy who has two precious little girls and the unconditional love of Wyatt Logan.