Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.

Author's Note: New chapter, it's longish, and it sets up the conflict for a lot of the remainder of the story (in so far as you can say that since we've got so many subplots - Calvin's illness, Doc and Clara's romance, needing to get rid of Buford Tannen, needing to get Back to the Future, Calvin and Ann's relationship - going on). Please read and review!

Chapter Ten

Sunday, September 6, 1885
12:00 AM PDT
Hill Valley, California

"And that crater out there in the middle north-west, the one that's there all by itself like a starburst?"

"Uh-uh?"

"That one's called Copernicus." Clara Clayton turned to Emmett Brown and giggled. "Look at me, I feel like I'm teaching school!"

"Go on, continue your lesson!" Doc encouraged, smiling at her. "I've never found lunar geography so fascinating before. You're quite knowledgeable." He was tempted to add that he'd never found a woman so fascinating before, but decided against it. It might sound very forward, and even like exaggerated flattery – although he knew that it was the truth. He had never had more interest in a woman before than he had in Clara Clayton now. She was pretty, intelligent, nice, willing to spend time with him… besides the fact that she was from 1885 and their age differences he hadn't found any flaw with her yet. And that last issue had never stopped him from befriending Marty, and they were extremely close too.

Clara smiled at him. "Don't you need to go back home, Emmett?" she asked. "I don't mind you sticking around, but I don't want to bother you or your family…"

"You're not bothering me at all" Doc replied. "And I'm sure the others won't mind if I come home a little later than usual." All right, perhaps they would mind, but not for reasons Clara would presume so, and he wasn't really inclined to listen to them anyway. Not right now. "I like being here, and I'm just astonished that you know all this. I wouldn't have thought that many school teachers studied astronomy."

"Most don't" Clara agreed. "As for me, though… when I was eleven I had diphtheria and had to be in quarantine for months, so my father bought this telescope and put it next to my bed so I could see everything of the window. I've been interested in the subject ever since." She sighed wistfully. "Oh Emmett, do you think we'll ever be able to… travel to the moon, the way we travel through the country in trains?"

Doc smiled knowingly at her. "Definitely, although not for another eighty-four years and not on trains" he told her. "We'll have space vehicles, capsules that sail off in rockets, devices that create giant explosions, explosions so powerful that they'll…"

"That they'll break the pull of the earth's gravity and send the projectile into outer space" Clara finished for him. Doc looked at her with surprise clear on his face, which caused her to burst into a giggle. "Emmett! I've read that book too!" As he continued to look surprised, she added: "You're quoting Jules Verne, From The Earth To The Moon!"

Of course, that's why phrasing that sort of explanation had come so natural to him – he'd read it over and over in one of his favorite books! But for Clara to recognize it… "You've read Jules Verne?" Doc whispered, amazed.

"I adore Jules Verne" Clara whispered.

"So do I!" Doc replied enthusiastically. "Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under The Sea, my absolute favorite, the first time I read that when I was a little boy I wanted to meet Captain Nemo!"

Clara chuckled. "Emmett, you're teasing me! You couldn't have read that book when you were a little boy, it was only first published ten years ago…"

"Oh yes," Doc replied, realizing that he'd made a mistake, "I meant it made me feel like a boy." He stared at her, fascinated, remembering the previous women he had been… interested in. "I never met a woman who liked Jules Verne before."

"I never ever met a man like you before" Clara whispered.

As if by themselves, their faces moved closer. Some voice at the back of Doc's head told him that he shouldn't do this, or at least slow down so that he could yet reconsider… but that voice barely registered. Their lips met in the middle, and they started to kiss. It felt so natural, and yet so utterly wonderful, to be kissed by someone who actually wanted to kiss him back, that the inventor was increasingly forgetting everything around him, past, future or present. His arms moved up her back, she returned the favor…

BANG!

The abrupt sound of a gunshot made Doc's neck hairs stand on end and it reminded him of the moment just a few hours ago, when he had almost been shot by Buford Tannen. As he broke the kiss he could see the man in question was indeed sitting on his horse nearby, surrounded by his gang. "Tannen!" Doc exclaimed.

"Brown" the outlaw growled. "I figured you were here."

The scientist straightened his back, looking Buford straight into the eye and holding Clara's hand – he could feel she was shaking. He wished, like he had at the festival, that he had Chris' gun with him, but that couldn't be helped right now. As it was, he could do nothing but proudly face his opponent. "What do you want, Tannen? Do you intend to try to kill me again?"

"It wouldn't be a matter of tryin'" Buford told him. "But no, right now I aim to get that friend of yours. And I'll need you and that filly to lure him away from those other runts."

Clara shivered, while Doc took a deep breath. "You mean you're kidnapping us?"

"Exactly." Buford raised his gun at them, while his gang got off their horses with some rope. Doc realized Clara was trying to look at him, but gave her a sigh of resignation. They were surrounded, and there was very little they could do to get away right now. They both stepped off their horses, and allowed the gang members to tie them up. Doc felt frightened, more for Clara's sake than for his own. Now all he could do was hope that Marty, once he'd find out about their kidnapping, would not do anything irrational. If he lost his best friend, he wouldn't care much about living or dying anymore.

oooooooo

Marty woke up to the sound of a cuckoo clock striking 7. He groggily opened his eyes to see the strange contraption Doc and Chris had installed making their breakfast. Too tired to move, Marty just stared at the devices for a moment, feeling amazed how his best friend(s) would always manage to create such machines even in a primitive area such as 1885.

As he looked around, he noticed that Chris and Mike were already up, talking in the center of the shop, while Ann was in the back reading a book. Calvin was still asleep, snoring calmly. Prior to him travelling through time, Marty hadn't really wanted to believe the fact that he snored, even though his parents and siblings had told him all about it. Now, however, he was faced with the living evidence. At least it wasn't all that loud. Not loud enough to keep him out of his sleep, at least – although he supposed Chris and Doc would have thought of that as being fascinating, a person keeping himself out of his sleep. Marty figured that if they liked the idea so much, perhaps they could try it for themselves someday, and see how much they liked it then.

As it was, though, Doc wasn't around, or so he found out once having a closer look. Marty remembered that his friend had gone off last night with Clara to guide her home. If he hadn't returned at all that night…

Well, there was one way to find out. Marty got out of the bed, yawned and stretched his arms, and then turned to his best friends. "Where did Doc go?" he asked.

Chris and Mike exchanged glances. "Technically, he didn't go anywhere that we know of" the former said. "He just hasn't returned since last night." The inventor sighed deeply. "Great Scott, I can understand his fascination for the woman, and in his situation I would likely be doing the same thing, but… can't he understand the danger he's bringing himself in…"

"Ah, come on" Marty declared. "Things can't be that bad. Sure, perhaps he forgot the time in Clara's presence… but he'll come back, and then we'll all just tell him that he shouldn't do that stuff again, and things will be fine! After all, he… is… the Doc…" The teen gulped, as he looked around the room. "All right, why are you all looking at me that way?"

"We're wondering whether you're really that naïve or whether you just pretend to be" Ann deadpanned.

"Ann!" Chris exclaimed, sternly.

"It's true!" Ann replied, defending herself. "If Marty can't see…" She sighed and turned to him, giving him a vaguely kind smile. "You may have hope, and who knows, you might turn out to be right – but that chance is very, very small. By now, I just go into an adventure presuming disaster will strike, because it will, except in the few cases where it doesn't… and even then, something will go wrong."

"Accentuate the negative, will you?" Marty said, rolling his eyes.

"What else am I supposed to do?" Ann argued. "I can't see how, with all these horrible situations we can land in, I can do anything else than be prepared for the worst."

"Ann is right, kind of" Marty's own voice came back at him. He looked to the side and saw Calvin had woken up and had elbowed himself into a sitting position in his bed. "I hope everything will turn out fine, too, but you have to admit that when Doc has been with Clara, he's been acting goofy and unpredictable. I'm not sure we can trust him to remain clear-headed all the time."

Marty stared at his twin, unsure how to respond to what he felt to be the others ganging up on him somewhat. Then, he grinned. "You know, it's hardly a coincidence that you're agreeing with her on this…"

"Shut. Up."

Marty pouted. "You have no sense of humor."

"Jokes grow old, Marty" Ann pointed out. "That one must have a beard from here to Washington by now." She turned to Chris. "Seriously, though, what do we do now?"

Chris shrugged. "I suppose we could send a scouting party to look for him, although that is more childish a measure than I want to resort to. Marty is right in saying that Emmett is an adult scientist who can make his own decisions. The saving of the space-time continuum goes before everything, of course, but I'd prefer to hold off on sending anyone to Clara's cabin for another few hours. Give him some time to return here on his own. And then, he'll have some explaining to do."

"You bet he will" Mike quipped. "So, what do we do in the meantime? Work on the DeLoreans? There is still some stuff we need to do, after all…"

"That would seem to be the best course of action" Chris decided. "It is unfortunate that Emmett isn't here, but as we've just established I prefer not to go and get him, so in the meantime we'll finish the connection between the cars and get them ready to be towed to the site of the train tracks tonight."

"You want to tow them?" Calvin asked, stunned. "Both? All the way?"

"If you can find another way to transport them that simultaneously doesn't end up using the precious gas left in both tanks, you're welcome to it" Chris replied. "I suppose we could use horses again, though – although I'd prefer to use the wagon to not expose them to the terrain… still, I suppose that wouldn't be an option, as the wagon isn't that long… although considering the nature of the connection, it might be possible for one of the vehicles to be transported on it… hm…"

"Dad?" Mike spoke up.

"Ah, yes, of course." Chris looked up, smiling faintly. "Well, we'll just do whatever we need to do to ensure a safe and efficient transport – we can't do it until tonight anyway, because we won't be ready and it won't be dark enough until that time. That does mean that we're cutting it a bit close given that our return to the future is scheduled for tomorrow morning, but I cannot see any problems that will arise from that."

"Well, I'm sure there are always problems available" Ann replied, sounding cheerful despite the contrasting nature of her words.

"Of course, of course" Chris replied, weary. "In any case, let's all get dressed and have breakfast first. It's going to be another long day."

And thus they did, enjoying a crude breakfast that mostly consisted of bread, bacon and eggs, while getting prepared for another day in the 1880s. They also resumed work on the DeLoreans thereafter, with the blankets being held ready in case someone would show up – a chance that wasn't that big, as Chris had hung out a 'closed' sign. He and Mike did most of the work on the DeLoreans, while Marty, Calvin and Ann served as assistants who did quite useful jobs but could at times be excused. Marty was just taking one of those breaks when there was a sound of hoofbeats nearby. While that wasn't anything out of the usual, this was so loud and threatening that it made Chris and Mike pause their work and exchange glances.

"Should we…" Mike began, but his father cut him off. "We should" he replied, and between the five of them they rapidly put up the blanket as the noise further increased in strength before halting just in front of their door. A few moments later, the sound of a log of wood hammering against the door could be heard, echoing throughout the shop. Calvin rapidly grabbed for the gun and handed it to Chris while the hammering continued until their attackers broke through the door. They roughly pushed it open, and Marty could see who they were. Tannen's goons, just as he'd suspected.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Calvin exclaimed.

"We're here for you, Eastwood" the main goon replied. "Or one of you at least… but not to shoot you down, so don't bother with that gun, as we've got others to defend ourselves with and there are more of us than there are of you. Now, which one is Lewis Eastwood?"

A brief shiver of fear went through Marty's spine, but he decided to ignore it. He straightened his back and looked the villains into the eyes. "That would be me" he said. "What do you want?"

The goon simply grinned. "We have your friends – the other blacksmith, and the schoolteacher. If you want to see them alive and unharmed again, you are to face Buford Tannen in a gun duel tomorrow morning at seven o'clock. No informing the Marshall, and guns will be provided. We can check on you and see whether you follow those rules. Do you accept?"

While the others gawked at the news about their friends, Marty tried as hard as he could to keep a straight face. "Why tomorrow?"

"We're off to rob the Pine City Stage today" the goon replied, with brutal honesty. "And don't even think about rescuing the blacksmith and his filly before then, because we'll have guards in place."

Marty gulped. "All right, where?"

"North" the goon replied, vaguely. "Near the ravine, just west of it. You will find it easily, it is the only house in a wide area that is being lived in. Now I repeat, do you accept, or are you the coward the boss said you were?"

Marty thought hard. As much as he didn't wish to react to people calling him a coward anymore, he knew that he had to save Doc and Clara. But under these conditions… He tried to glance sideway at the others, who were giving him indeterminate looks. "All right" he finally replied. "But," he added, just before the goons were about to turn back to their horses, "at eight o'clock. I, uh, I only fight people after breakfast… and we need time getting there so as not to get lost."

The goons interchanged looks, and the main one shrugged. "Whatever" he replied. "Just be there. Come on, boys!" They got back onto their horses, pulled at the reins and left as rapid as they had come, firing several shots into the air as they did so.

"What is it with all these people shooting in the air for effect these days?" Calvin wondered, looking after them.

"I don't know. Maybe bullets are on sale." Chris turned to Marty, the concern obvious in his eyes. "Marty, why did you postpone that duel? Even if everything went well, we would still have to catch our train, and now you have made that almost physically impossible!"

"Well, I suppose I could have named a slightly earlier time, like 7:45 or 7:50, but I wasn't thinking of that and it probably wouldn't have been good to push my luck by asking for such a precise time" Marty replied. "And this way, if we manage to get out alive and get Doc and Clara free, we can head right back over to the train so that we'll be safe from Tannen back in 1985 as soon as possible." He left the unspoken question of what would happen to Clara in that situation hanging in the air.

"Good point" Chris agreed, also either forgetting or choosing not to address that issue either. "Now, for a more significant matter – how are we going to get around that duel?"

"Oh, that's easy" Marty replied, smiling. "We just use the bullet-proof vest trick we used in 1985, when I needed to face Biff Tannen. Buford doesn't know what happened then, as it is in the future, so he has no reason to see this coming. And from what I've seen, he's even more stupid than that alternate Biff was."

"Which doesn't mean he's less scary" Calvin said, frowning. "That plan isn't foolproof, Marty. It could go wrong easily… heck, it did go wrong for us, as Biff's goons would have shot us if not for Mike's biological Mom showing up. I doubt she's going to make an appearance this time, though."

"I suppose" Marty grimaced. "Then what else should I do to keep you safe?"

"I'd say we should prepare something to distract them when Buford fails to kill you" Mike said, thoughtfully. "I mean, seeing someone whom they think would be dead rise in front of them would be a pretty scary sight already, so if we can distract Tannen's goons any further, we might be able to escape before they can come to their senses." He grinned. "Perhaps we could even convince them that you're a ghost, Marty? Using future technology?"

"I'm not sure if that's a possibility" Chris said. "Tannens, even Buford, are not that dumb. I suppose we might be able to scare them using future technology, but I'm not sure if we've got anything useful and I'd loathe to do it in a manner where past natives might eventually be able to find out even the slightest thing about it, especially if those natives are Tannens." The scorn was audible in his voice. "I would prefer for us to use a more… subtle approach."

"Such as?" Ann asked.

"I'm working on it" Chris muttered. "I'm sure we'll be able to come up with a coherent plan before tonight. However, I'd prefer for us to make a rescue attempt before then. If there's any way to avoid this shoot-out, we should take it."

"Always take the path of the least resistance" Mike agreed. "But if Tannen has guards put out there today, it might be difficult to get in. And then to think that he also needs his gang to rob that stagecoach, there might be a double crew tonight."

"That is very well possible" Chris agreed. "I doubt Buford and his men are the only gang in Hill Valley. That does complicate matters… and it pretty much requires us to send someone in in the daytime. Preferably around noon, when the temperature is highest and the guards are liable to be inside – it may be early September, but it can get pretty hot in here after all. Someone should look around the back of the shack our friends are in, and try to find an alternate escape route. The problem with that, though, is that we would be best off sending only one person, as we can't afford to lose many people if they get caught." He sighed. "Of course, if we do send just one person, that person would be at a considerable risk. And I can't imagine whom of you would volunteer…"

"I'll do it."

The proclamation Marty heard his identical twin brother utter was so unexpected and confident that it caused him to swivel his head towards him in confusion. Sure enough, Calvin nodded, even to the perplexed looks on the faces of the others. "Are you sure?" Marty stammered. "You know the risks…"

"I sure do" Calvin agreed. "Tannens goons could find me and either lock me up with Doc and Clara or shoot me right away." He was trembling a little, but overall appeared to be in control of himself. "And I'm certainly not looking forward to it, but hey, somebody had to volunteer, right?"

"True" Chris admitted. "That's very brave of you, Calvin." Mike and Ann nodded in approval, the latter of which made Marty wonder if his twin was doing this as a scheme to impress her. It was likely to go far in winning her heart, of course, and a few days ago Marty would have accepted that explanation right away. Now, however, he had realized that Calvin and Ann were trying to stay away from each other (as Calvin showed with Lauren, and he had noticed Ann giving some boys at the festival appreciative looks as well), so that explanation wouldn't fully cover it. More likely was that Calvin was simply telling the truth; after all, his twin only had memories from a timeline where his family life was crappy and he had to look out for himself. And perhaps more importantly, there was the fact that, as Marty knew, Calvin felt somewhat guilty for them being in this situation in the first place. If his twin felt that he had to do something to repay them… and since it was true that somebody needed to do it…

"Okay, Calvin" he finally agreed. "Good luck. You'll need it."

oooooooo

Over the past several hours (which was what he guessed it had been, anyway; he was sure a full day hadn't passed yet but besides that it was rather difficult to tell the time with his (valuable) watches having been taken away from him) Dr. Emmett Brown had come to the conclusion that life as a prisoner in Buford Tannen's hideout was worse than he could ever have imagined.

The one thing fortunate was that neither Tannen nor his goons were physically torturing him or Clara, aside from some beating before they got here, creating some bruises which had begun to swell painfully. Besides that, though, he was in a horrible condition. The room of the shack he was in was completely empty; rats scurried around behind the walls and he thought he'd even spotted one once or twice; water had been provided just once the entire time and besides that his physical needs seemed to be largely ignored (at least he hadn't needed to go to the bathroom yet) as food wasn't provided at all. Worse, there was one window in the shack through which the sun was shining directly on them as if it were a laser, and he couldn't move due to being tied up. It was no stereotypical African prison camp designed to take full advantage of the heat, but this was no picnic either.

What made it worse was that he didn't have to suffer this alone, which would have been bearable. No, Clara Clayton, the love of his life, was just as tied up as he was and sitting next to him, suffering as much as he did. She only occasionally groaned in despair, but for the remainder of the time stayed remarkably still. Doc couldn't help but admire her strength of will.

They hadn't talked all that much yet, as Clara had been in a bit of a shock from what had happened, and presumably neither of them had wished to ask the other about their thoughts on what was going to happen to them, knowing that their worst dreams were going to be confirmed. However, Doc knew that his friends would be certain to rescue them, especially as they had a time machine; Clara would of course be a lot less sure of that. It was thus that he felt the urge to talk to her, to at least try to reassure her somewhat, but as long as she remained silent, the inventor decided to do the same rather than break the spell.

Nevertheless, after a long while of detention, Clara finally spoke up. "Emmett?" she asked, the concern clear in her voice. "I have to know. What… what do you think will come of us?"

The inventor would have liked to be able to reassure her. Instead, he half-heartedly shrugged. "I don't know, Clara" he whispered. "Not for sure. But I do know that my relatives would not leave you… us, trapped here. I know they will try to save us. I just wish they wouldn't have to put their own lives on the line as well… especially Marty, er, Lewis Eastwood."

Clara cast her eyes down. "I wouldn't want your friends to go through all that trouble for me, Emmett."

"And for me" Doc reminded her. "They would be saving me as well. I just hope that there is any way for us to get out while avoiding Lewis getting into that duel. He's a smart kid, but he's no match against Buford Tannen in a gunfight." He smiled. "But we've gotten into similar situations before in the past, and triumphed. Don't worry Clara, we will get you out of here."

"I hope so, too" Clara agreed, sighing. "But I want you to promise me one thing, Emmett."

The inventor frowned. "What?"

"That you won't try to get me out of here, not if it means that you can escape yourself" Clara said. "If I slow you down by any way, just leave me behind. You shouldn't try to save me and endanger all your friends in the process."

"No way" Doc replied, resolutely. "If I can't save you, I might as well not save myself. I wouldn't want to leave you behind."

"That's very sweet, Emmett" Clara replied, smiling. "Still, I can't force you to stay here for a mad schoolteacher you only met just a few days ago…"

"Mad schoolteacher?" the inventor repeated, staring into her eyes. "Clara, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! You're the sweetest, nicest, smartest woman I've ever met! I couldn't leave you behind in this prison, at the mercy of Tannen and his goons! It would break my heart! I… I love you…"

As Doc realized what he'd said, he felt like mentally smacking himself for doing so. Surely Clara, beautiful, young Clara, would now back away from him, the kind old man whom she had just found out to be a pervert. But, as with Chris and Susan so long ago, this young lady didn't scold him. She simply smiled at him, touched. "Emmett, are you sure of that?"

The scientist gulped. "I – I've never been surer of anything in my entire life" he whispered truthfully. "But… I couldn't force you to accept…"

"Force me?" Now it was Clara's turn to be surprised at farfetched notions. "Emmett, you wouldn't have to force me to do anything! I love you too!"

Doc's eyes widened. He realized the same thing had happened to Chris, of course, and with an extremely similar woman, so he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. Yet, he couldn't help but stammer: "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely" Clara replied. "Emmett, I'm sure you're not the man my parents would have wanted me to be with, the one society in Hill Valley wants me to be with… and frankly, you're hardly the one I expected to marry either. But yet I can't think of somebody else that would better fit that position, and I don't think I'll ever encounter somebody better either. So yes, I am a hundred percent certain."

Doc's eyes widened even further, to the extent that this was humanly possible. "You wish to marry me?" he gasped.

Clara, who had been leaning ever closer to him, suddenly drew back. "If you want to" she said, uncertainly.

"I, I…" Doc replied, sweat breaking out on his forehead from the emotional moment. He thought of Chris, and of all his other friends, who would no doubt disapprove of what he was doing right at this moment. Yet, he looked into Clara's eyes and he couldn't care less. "Clara, I love you" he whispered. "Even if Chr-John and the others berate me, even if it endangers the space-time continuum," she frowned uncomprehendingly at that, "no matter what happens, if we do get out of here, I want to stay with you until the end of time."

Clara smiled at him and leaned over as far as their bonds allowed it. Doc returned the favor, and they narrowly managed to kiss, nevertheless laying passion in there that neither of them had ever experienced before, except perhaps last night. Emmett Brown felt truly at ease inside. Finally, he had what he'd longed for for so long.

Now he just needed to keep it.

oooooooo

As they had pretty much figured out before, the time travelers couldn't concentrate on preparing the rescue plan for Emmett and Clara right away. Instead, Calvin joined the others in getting to work on the last details with the DeLoreans, as well as planning out the events of the next day to meticulous detail. It wasn't until one P.M. that he ended up leaving Hill Valley, heading towards Tannen's shack on his horse, a backpack clinging onto the saddle.

The journey towards the shack was rather easy, and finding it also wasn't as hard as Buford's gang member had made it appear to be, given that it was the only building in a wide distance. It was only when he got there that Calvin began to have serious doubts about the whole thing. Of course, he wanted to help break Doc and Clara out, and he wanted to get this all over with… but that didn't mean he really liked putting his life at risk.

Telling himself to be brave, the teen eventually abandoned his horse in a cave that was conveniently located near the shack, put the backpack on his back, and approached the building. There appeared to be one door, and it was guarded by two unfamiliar men, sitting on wooden chairs and leaning against the door. Calvin squinted, straining his brain for clues if they had seen these people before, but came up with a blank. So Buford had gotten additional help in. That made everything just a little harder.

Cautiously, he moved past the building, seeking shelter behind some trees. Fortunately, this shack hadn't been put in the middle of the desert but rather more near a small group of trees where one could have natural cover from the heat. It did make Calvin wonder why the front door did face the sun but, well, that wasn't anything for him to worry about right now.

After he got past the guards (who didn't appear to be paying attention to stuff anyway; heck, for all he knew they weren't guards but simply gang members trying to get a tan), he was able to sneak much closer to the actual shack itself, inspecting the walls, cautiously moving over the leaves and the sticks and branches in his way, wincing every time he stepped on something that made a louder noise than the rustling of the trees near him. Thankfully, there seemed to be no change from upfront. People weren't noticing him. Everything was going optimal.

Unfortunately, for his actual mission, that statement wasn't true. As hard as Calvin looked, he couldn't find anything that indicated a weak spot in the wall. Due to a general absence of windows, he at first couldn't find Doc and Clara either, until he finally peered into one which was rather high up in the back of the shack, and spotted his friend and the schoolteacher, tightly tied up against the wall. He softly called their names, but got no response, either visual or audible.

For a moment, he considered knocking on the window, then figured that that would be too loud, and thus he simply continued his journey, sneaking around the corner and past the left wall of the building, making sure that he both wasn't heard or seen by the guards who were still at their post. Every time he made a slightly loud noise, Calvin thought his heart was going to stop. But nothing happened. Finally, the teen decided to just head back to the back wall of the shack, which, if anywhere, was going to be where to find the place to penetrate inside. He wondered if he should have taken Chris' gun along, but figured that it was better that he hadn't. They could march in guns blazing, but if one of the gang managed to get to the hostages before they could round them all up, the situation could easily be reversed again.

Now, it was time for a more complex, but hopefully slightly less dangerous plan. Calvin took off his backpack, taking out the saw Chris had made him bring. The basic plan was to simply saw a hole in the wall so big that Doc and Clara could climb out, and make as little noise as possible during the whole procedure. There were a ton of ways that could go wrong, but there were even more ways in which Marty facing Buford Tannen tomorrow could go wrong, so Chris had been in a proper mood to let Calvin try, and Calvin had been in a proper mood to agree to it. Right now, though, he increasingly doubted his previous judgment. He took the saw and knelt down, carefully expecting the wall. For a moment, despair gripped him – how was he going to get through this? Especially as soon as possible and without making noise?

The panic gripped him for a few moments, but eventually subsided. The teen sighed deeply, took a better hold onto the saw, and put it in place against the wall to start sawing the hole…

"Clint?"

The familiar voice speaking to him created such a jolt in Calvin's nervous system that he was sure he came within inches of a heart attack this time around. As it was, he jumped up, barely suppressed a scream, and thereafter needed to calm down for over fifteen seconds before he could think straight again, let alone turn to the originator of the voice. As it was, he remained slightly in shock, and that was exaggerated once he got a good look at who had called him. "Lauren?" he sputtered. "What are you doing here?"

Lauren chuckled wryly. "Well, isn't that peculiar" she mused. "I'd have thought that was a question I should be asking you, Mr. Eastwood."

Calvin wasn't sure how to reply to that, but eventually regained some of his composure. "Then let's both ask that question, and answer it" he wittily replied. "Although I think you already have a clue what I might be doing here, but I don't have any about you."

Lauren gave him a peculiar look, then cast her eyes down. "Fair enough" she admitted. "Clint, there's something I didn't tell you yesterday when we were dancing – and I was hoping that if we really clicked, I could always tell you then, rather than have it turn you away instantly." She nervously bit her lip. "My father, Frank Needles, is the leader of a criminal gang like that of Buford Tannen's. He told me that he intended to help Buford, and…"

"You're a Needles?" Calvin replied, stunned. He stared closer at her, trying to see anything in her that reminded him of the Douglas Needles he knew. There appeared to be very little resemblance, though.

Lauren frowned. "Yeah, why?" she asked. "Have you met any of our family before?"

"Perhaps a distant relative, yeah" Calvin said, covering. "Back, uh, back where we come from. They didn't look anything like you, though."

Lauren shrugged. "Then it must have been a real distant relative, or just someone unrelated who happened to have the same name" she replied. "And relatives don't always resemble each other. People tell me I look a lot like my mother, but no one's ever said that I take after my father."

"Uh, okay" Calvin replied, noticing he was breathing a little easier now. Okay, so she is the daughter of a Needles – a Needles who also owns a criminal gang. So what? She's still beautiful, and nice… she'd never do anything similar to what her family did, would she?

As it was, Lauren now frowned at him again. "So anyway," she replied, softly, "if I don't miss my guess, you're here to break out those people Tannen locked away in there last night – would that be right?"

Calvin had no other remotely plausible idea that could also explain his current location, and for what it was worth, he did feel like he could trust Lauren. "Right" he replied. "Lewis didn't want to endanger us or them, and we're not sure we can trust Mr. Tannen and his gang to let them go after their duel, even if Lewis wins."

Lauren smirked. "That's a very good observation" she said, folding her arms. "As it is, though, it appears that I caught you in the act. And if you stay here, others could notice your presence too."

Calvin stared awkwardly at her. "Lauren, I…"

"I would recommend you to go now, before anybody besides me notices you walking past our windows and rustling through the leaves" Lauren said. "I'm certainly not going to let you go through with your crazy scheme."

Calvin nodded awkwardly, wondering whether that meant Lauren disapproved of the whole concept of saving Doc and Clara, or if she just thought the current plan was crazy. Either way, he decided to follow up on it. "I will" he whispered.

"You'd better" Lauren replied, walking closer to him and appearing to get a little nervous. "Clint… keep yourself safe, okay? What goes on between Mr. Tannen and your brother doesn't mean you should put yourself in harm's way." With that, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and walked off, leaving a stunned Calvin behind.

oooooooo

It took Calvin Arthur McFly roughly a minute or two to come to his senses and head back for his horse. He couldn't contact or rescue Doc and Clara from out here, nor did Lauren want him to. He thus numbly went back into town, where he was met by his surprised friends. The message he gave them, though, soon turned the looks on their faces (or at least on Chris') into one of abject horror.

"She's a Needles!" Chris spouted. "You're associating with a Needles, here in 1885… and you believe her?"

"Hey, you can't judge Lauren for her family's sake!" Calvin protested. "All we know is that Douglas Needles and his father were jerks, and so is Lauren's Dad, apparently. But that doesn't mean she herself is bad. She did let me go, after all."

"She did… but that doesn't mean we have to put our trust in her not betraying us now" Chris replied. "She clearly liked you well enough to let you go then, but that doesn't mean when put to the test that she won't stick to your father. You can't paint such a romantic picture of the whole story, Calvin – especially not in the Old West. Even if Lauren likes you, she might still back her father in any case."

"Nonsense" Calvin stubbornly said. "She told me her Dad made her work at the saloon, and that she hated that job. Why would she turn me in? If anything, she'd be inclined to back us, especially if it's a clear-cut matter of right and wrong, such as if Buford's gang tries to do something against the rest of us tomorrow."

"I wish it were that simple – and now you're just being naïve, like Marty was this morning" Ann spoke up. "Mike, have you still got our newspaper?"

"Sure" the addressee replied, heading over to the workbench and digging up the paper from a whole stack of papers. He walked towards the center of the room, and the others crowded around him, especially Marty and Calvin, to see that the article had now changed. It read as followed:

Hill Valley Telegraph – Tuesday, September 8th 1885

BUFORD TANNEN CAPTURED AFTER MASSACRE

Buford Tannen, a local outlaw whom has troubled this town several times before and terrorized many of its citizens, struck once more early yesterday morning when he engaged in a gun duel at his shack near Shonash Ravine. Tannen had apparently challenged Mr. Lewis Eastwood, 18, to a duel while holding hostages against him, and although the latter had won (though unfairly, as Tannen claimed), he subsequently succeeded in killing his hostages and several of the would-be rescuers before the survivors managed to alert Marshall Strickland, who succeeded in arresting Tannen (although the Needles gang, accomplices in the crimes, got away). Marshall Strickland thus rids Hill Valley of a long plague as for this and for the robbery of the Pine City Stage, which occurred two days ago, Tannen will likely be imprisoned or hung. Unfortunately, nothing more could be done for his victims by this point, and those who hadn't yet done so died shortly after one another yesterday afternoon.

Mike stared at his counterpart. "Well, Calvin?" he asked. "Still convinced that Lauren is going to help us?"

Calvin, though obviously rattled by the news in the paper, tried to remain confident. "Perhaps not entirely," he admitted, "but you haven't convinced me of the opposite case either. This is one possible future, right? So if this article doesn't take into account the possibility of Lauren helping us out…"

"This paper represents the one that will be printed in two days' time if the events of today continue to run their course into tomorrow and the day thereafter" Chris explained. "The events of today, I'm afraid, already include your chat with miss Needles. Nevertheless, it is true that the future is still very much in flux, and that this might be something that would have happened even before your conversation with Lauren… it does appear to indicate that Buford made no attempt to intervene before Marty defeated him. This future is still flexible… and just as well, or nearly all of us would be doomed."

"Well, you're the Doc, Chris" Marty replied, sounding nervous – although Calvin could hardly blame his twin for that. "So, what do you think is the best way to prepare for tomorrow?"

"That's simple" Chris said. "We'll just do everything we can to succeed, and to survive. What else could we possibly do?"

And there was no one who could argue with that.