Disclaimer: I don't own Timeless.
Lucy had been escorted to a waiting room of sorts, and her phone had been confiscated.
"What am I supposed to do in here for hours without any internet or books or anything? And what is Amy going to think?" She half-glared, half-pleaded at Wyatt.
"Director Christopher decided that we'll have to partially read Dave in, just enough to know that you're involved in an investigation and staying with Flynn for your safety. He'll keep her with him and keep an eye out for any trouble."
"And you think he is going to be able to keep that from her? Dave?"
Wyatt chuckled. "He keeps his mouth shut when it's a matter of security. Can't get to be Delta Force otherwise. I think that's why he can't keep regular secrets to save his life. He's keeping too many state secrets."
Lucy tipped her head in acknowledgement of that.
"As for entertainment," Wyatt pointed to the TV in the corner of the room. "It's got Netflix, even though the browser is disabled."
"Okay," she agreed. "Can you get Amy to pack me a bag and bring it?"
"I'll check and see. You wouldn't be able to tell her anything, you know?"
"Yeah," Lucy breathed out in defeat and slunk into the nearest loveseat.
"Hey, I'm sorry you have to wait here. But we're going to try to solve this as fast as possible."
"I know," she intoned, staring at the gray-blue paint of the wall. His hand dropped to her shoulder and squeezed before he turned to go.
Right as he reached the door, he turned back hesitantly. "Maybe think about going easy on Flynn, too, okay? This whole thing is really tearing the guy up."
The door quietly clicked closed before Lucy could respond. Not that she knew how to respond to Wyatt, of all people, advocating for Garcia. Scrubbing a hand over her tired face, she grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until she found an old Dick Van Dyke Show rerun. Curling up on her side with her face buried in a throw pillow, she let the gates open as she cried her heart out.
She woke to a gentle shake and a familiar hand tracing circles on her arm. "Garcia?" she breathed out, eyes still closed, smiling. Then, as she opened her eyes and took in Garcia's anxious face, the memories of the morning rushed in and her face fell. He yanked his hand back as she jerked upright and it hung awkwardly in midair as she looked at him expectantly.
"Amy's here with your things," he explained softly.
"Okay," when he didn't leave, she added, "I know, don't tell her anything."
His eyes closed and he ran a hair through his hair. "I know you won't. I was going to ask—it's noon. I have to go pick up Iris from her sleepover. And…I would like to bring her here with you." He opened his eyes and bit his lip. "That is, if it's okay with you. If you're not going to…" she watched him swallow as he looked down miserably. She caught the gist.
"Garcia, I'm hurt and I'm mad at you. I'm not going to dump you."
"You're sure?" he whispered, finally bringing his eyes up to look in her own.
"I have some serious concerns about how we make a relationship work if you don't trust me, but no, I'm not."
"I do trust you. I do. I had a…a temporary lapse…when I first found out, I'll admit it. That wasn't about you so much as—damn it, I'll have to explain it later. Amy is going to come in any second. Are you sure Iris can come?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I would love to spend time with her." It was true. Hanging out with Iris was the only thing to happen that day that Lucy would actively choose for herself if given the choice.
"Okay, I'll go get her then," he moved like he was going to hug her, but he thought better of it. She was both disappointed and relieved, because as much as she missed his touch, it would probably shatter her. He opened the door to Amy, who he conjured up a tight smile for before leaving without a word.
Amy came toward her and Lucy tried valiantly to paste on a bright smile for her, but this was her sister, and she immediately knew.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Lucy fought against the tears and managed to keep them from falling, but she knew Amy had seen them well up in her eyes.
"What did he do?" Amy asked angrily even as she wrapped her arms around her.
"He didn't DO anything exactly, he just…" Lucy bit her tongue against all the words she wanted to say, all the truths she was holding back that wanted to spill out. "We had a…a misunderstanding…and then he got called in to work on this high-pressure case and we haven't gotten a chance to hash things out yet." She prayed that it would be sufficient answer, because that was as much as she could say without oversharing.
Amy pulled back and looked at her in concern. "You don't have to stay with him, you know? We can go home, I can send Dave to his place and we can hang out, just the two of us. You say the word."
Lucy nearly showed her panic at that. Amy had to go to Dave's for her own safety.
"No, Amy, I want to stay there. Fix things. It…does it always feel like this for you?"
"Like what?"
"It hurts to be away from him. Even if I'm mad as hell at him or hurt because of him, it's worse to be away from him than not."
"Lucy," Amy pulled back and stared at her for a full minute in shock. "You're in love with him."
"I…" Lucy gulped. "I…but I can't be, can I? It's only been a week."
Amy just cocked her head to the side. "Aren't you though?"
She didn't even have to think about it. "Yes. Dammit. That's really inconvenient."
A laugh bubbled out of Amy and she patted Lucy on the head. "Oh, I know. But, hey, it means you're doing the right thing, working through it."
Lucy nodded absentmindedly in response.
"Look, it does get better as your relationship gets further along. It's harder at the beginning because you aren't as secure yet. Remember the first fight Dave and I had? I cried for like two days and ate all that ice cream."
"Yeah, I remember it was bad."
"And remember our last fight?"
"You didn't talk to him for four days and were still pissed when he showed up," Lucy grinned.
"Right. And we're fine. I think you'll get there, just talk to him. Don't do that thing where you pretend everything's fine while you're dying inside."
"I don't—" Lucy quailed at the 'cut the bullshit' look Amy gave her. "I won't."
"Okay. Good. I've got to go, Dave's waiting. If you need me, call, okay?"
"Okay," she hugged her sister again, feeling the weight from the guilt of leaving so much unsaid. Amy would understand when she found out, but it still felt wrong. Amy waved as she left and Lucy sat back down to think.
"Okay, but isn't he like way too old for Betty?"
Iris had been delighted to come hang out with Lucy in the waiting room. She had run in and hugged Lucy like she was a long-lost friend, and Lucy realized she was falling in love with the spunky little girl. Two-for-two.
Garcia had come back with pizza and drinks for their lunch and they had eaten before putting on White Christmas.
"Well…I think they were trying to pretend that he was younger than he was in real life. Sometimes people fall in love with people who are much older or younger, but yeah, 25 years is a lot."
"Yeah, that's kind of gross. That's more than you and Dad, right?"
A piece of popcorn lodged in Lucy's throat as she gasped, and she coughed before grabbing her water and taking several gulps.
Finally, she managed to respond. "Way more than your dad and me. We're only…I just realized I don't know how old he is. But there's no way he's anywhere near sixty, so we're good."
"He's forty-three."
"I'm thirty-five, so only eight years."
"So…that's like me dating a seventeen-year-old."
"Ew, NO!" The handful of popcorn she had grabbed went back in the bowl. This conversation would likely be safer sans choke-able foods. "No. The age difference matters less as you get older. Once you're an adult only. Not to mention I'm positive you aren't allowed to date yet."
Her face scrunched adorably. "Not until I'm fifteen, Dad says."
"Do you want to date boys right now?"
"Um, no. I mean, some of the boys might be kind of cute, but they say really dumb stuff."
"Eh, some things change with age, that one really doesn't, unfortunately," Lucy shrugged ruefully.
"Is that why you're mad at Dad? Did he say something stupid?" Iris's green eyes were looking up at her sadly and Lucy blew out slowly. She wasn't sure what Garcia would be okay with her saying. Or what was even legal or safe to say.
"We had a…misunderstanding…and we didn't get a chance to work it out yet because he had to come work."
"Are you going to work it out?"
Lucy bit her tongue to keep herself from promising that they would.
"I think so, honey," looking sadly back at Iris. "Oh, I love this song," Lucy redirected Iris back to the movie as Bing Crosby started to sing "Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep". He might have been a terrible father, but the man had excellent timing.
The hours ticked by as Lucy and Iris stayed locked in that room together. The longer it took, the more Lucy felt like they would lose. They were both getting bored and antsy, and Lucy was getting increasingly worried. She tried to distract Iris however she could, with the exception of answering Iris's increasingly personal questions. Still in full-blown sleepover mode, Iris suggested they paint each other's nails and braid each other's hair. Later, with neon pink nails and toes that matched Iris's, each of them sporting equally wonky braids—Lucy never claimed to be a pro at the girly stuff—they finished White Christmas and took turns reading chapters out of the end of the Hunger Games. Finally, as they were slumped on the loveseat, with Iris's feet dangling over the arm rest and her head in Lucy's lap as she dozed, the door clicked open and Garcia entered.
Those eyes would be the death of her, Lucy thought, as they went impossibly soft at the sight of the two of them. He was obviously dead on his feet, rumpled all over and his eyes were bloodshot. As tired as he was, he still glided over to them gracefully enough that Lucy was envious.
"She didn't get much sleep last night," Lucy whispered.
"That makes two of us," he whispered back.
"How is it going?"
Garcia ran a hand over his weary face. "We're making progress, but not there yet. It'll probably be at least another day."
"Do we have to stay that long?"
"No, I have been ordered off the premises and told not to come back until I get called in."
"Oh, thank God," Lucy breathed out before gently lifting Iris's head so she could stand up and help him clean up the mess and collect their bags.
Once they were ready to go, Garcia woke Iris and she leaned against him as they stumbled to the car. Lucy held out her hand like she wanted a tip and he looked at her like she was crazy.
"Keys. You are not in any condition to drive."
He handed them over without complaint. "Do you have food in your fridge that doesn't require cooking?" Lucy asked as he climbed into the passenger side after Iris had settled in the back.
"Not really, unless you want cereal or pop-tarts."
"Drive-thru?"
Humming his agreement, he leaned on his hand. Tempted as she was to grab his other hand, she had decided to try to wait for touching until after they talked. However, as the day had drawn on (and on and on), her anger and resolve had drained away. She just wanted them to be okay again.
At the drive-thru, she decided on basic cheeseburger meals for all of them, knowing her sleeping passengers probably wouldn't care. Her heart squeezed as she realized how attached she was growing to the two of them.
They were both asleep as she pulled into the driveway, and Lucy checked the time. 7:30. She took a moment to take in Garcia's face as it was relaxed in sleep, his mouth slightly open.
"Garcia," she said quietly to wake him. "Garcia. Hey." Finally, she leaned over and gently stroked the side of his face. He made a soft strangled noise and leaned into her hand, bringing his own rough hand up to cover hers. Eyes blinked open and stared at her with a look of such open adoration that the revelation burned straight through to her heart. He loved her. He LOVED her, and it was a balm for the pain in her chest.
"Are we home?" Iris stirred awake.
"We are," Lucy answered. She turned back to look at Garcia, who met her eyes plaintively and lifted her hand to his lips slowly, as if asking her permission. She smiled softly at him and he kissed her knuckles. Lucy had a briefly flashed to paintings of subjects kneeling in penitence before their monarchs in medieval times, and a giggle slipped out at the ridiculousness of the thought. His lips turned up at her as he tilted his head to the side as if to puzzle her out.
"It smells like cheeseburgers, I'm starving," Iris called from the backseat and Lucy jumped.
"Yeah, I went through the drive-thru. Ready to go inside?"
Lucy almost had to laugh at them. They were both trying so hard to stay awake. For all that Iris looked like her mother, she and Garcia wore the exact same face of exhaustion. Heads propped on hands, hair askew, mouths slack when not occupied, she wouldn't have been surprised if either of them fell face first asleep onto the dining table.
"Okay, you both need to go to bed," Lucy said as soon as they had finished. At their soft sounds of protest, Lucy looked at them each pointedly in turn. "Don't you?"
"Yeah, okay," Iris mumbled. "I'll go get ready. Will you come up to say goodnight?"
"Sure, honey, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm going to get my stuff settled first."
Iris slowly shuffled out of the room and Lucy felt the tone of the room shift as she found herself alone with Garcia. She gathered up the wrappers into the takeout bag to give herself a moment to compose herself as her nerves were jangling.
"Trying to get me into bed, Lucy?" She whirled around to give him a look of disbelief, only to find him blushing and…was he giggling?
"Sorry, I was just kidding. Ill-advisedly, I admit," he sobered as she stared. "I was hoping we would be able to talk tonight."
Lucy sighed. "I know. But, you are dead on your feet. It can wait until tomorrow."
He licked his lips and ran a hand over his stubble. "But…"
"I'll still be here tomorrow, Garcia. Come on, show me to the guest room?"
To his credit, he steadfastly avoided showing his disappointment, although she knew it was there. Ushering her down the hallway, he grabbed a set of clean sheets, and pointed out the bathroom before showing her into the guest room. Like the rest of the house, it was comfortable looking, full of warm tones, although the walls were bare.
"Sorry, it's a bit sparse. We don't have a lot of guests."
"I'm fine; I'm sure I'll be comfortable."
He was fighting a yawn, leaning against the doorframe, yet he still looked at her forlorn, not wanting to leave her. Shaking his head, he made himself speak.
"I'm going to go double-check the alarm and take a shower before going to bed. There will be two uniformed officers outside all night—Denise knows and trusts them. Just don't…don't go outside, okay?"
"I won't, but do you think all of that is necessary? Officers and everything?" Weirdly enough, it hadn't occurred to Lucy to be scared until now. But realizing the lengths to which they were going to keep her safe made the nerves along her spine creep. Garcia must have read the fear in her eyes, because he stepped close to her and grabbed her shoulder bracingly.
"I hope it isn't, Lucy. But I'm not taking any chances with your safety. I'll keep you safe. Okay?"
She looked up into his eyes and made herself nod, although she wanted him to hold her. "Okay. Goodnight," she added reluctantly.
"Goodnight, Lucy," he closed the door behind him and she collapsed onto the bed.
A few minutes later, she threw her overnight bag on the newly made bed in frustration. She was going to kill Amy. Slowly. Entertaining herself by debating between boiling water and flesh-eating slugs, she made her way down the hall to the master bedroom. She could hear Iris in the hall bathroom as she knocked lightly on Garcia's door.
"Can I borr—" Lucy's words stopped abruptly as she was met with the sight of Garcia's bare chest and her breath rushed out of her.
"Lucy," he said in surprise. She let her eyes roam across his muscled arms and down his broad chest. He was still wearing his work pants. At his shocked chuckle, she jerked her eyes back up to his face. Her face flamed as she took in his smirk. "Can I help you with something, Lucy?"
"Shirt!"
"You want me to put a shirt on before you tell me what you need?" His mouth twisted like he was confused but also trying to avoid laughing at her. She put her hands over her face to try to cool it down.
"No! I need to borrow a shirt. For after my shower. To sleep in."
"I thought Amy packed you some clothes."
"She did," Lucy scrunched her face in embarrassment. "But she didn't pack any pajamas."
Confusion flashed across his eyes before they went wide. "Oh. OH. Yes, I have…" Lucy smirked a little as he crossed to his dresser. He came back to hand her a gray t-shirt.
"Thank you," she looked up at him.
"You're welcome, but…do you need any…any pants?" He was blushing now.
"I really doubt any of your pants would fit me. I would probably trip over the hems." She couldn't help but tease him a little herself now that the shoe was on the other foot. "I think the shirt will be long enough."
He grew very still at that, and his eyes went blank as though his brain had shorted out. Lucy placed a hand on his chest, delighting in the firmness of it as she pulled him down. Placing a swift kiss on his cheek, she darted swiftly down the hall before he could respond.
As exhausted as he was, Garcia wasn't sure how he was going to sleep now. Even after a hot shower, he still felt goosebumps rise at the thought of Lucy in his t-shirt…. Now he was being tortured by that as well as worries about the talk they hadn't had yet. She wasn't the kind of woman to tell him she would stay and flirt with him if she was done, he knew that. But he also knew he had some explaining and apologizing to do before they were back on solid ground, and he was uneasy with putting that off.
He made his way to Iris's bedroom and stopped dead when he heard the two of them talking.
"My mom used to sing it to me."
"Mine did too."
"Would you sing it for me, Lucy?"
"Are you sure you would want me to do that? Since that was your special thing with your mom?" There was a pause, and Iris must have nodded because Lucy started singing. I wished on the moon…
Garcia's throat closed. Lucy's voice was…she had said she loved music but hadn't let on that she could REALLY sing. The moment blurred as he remembered Lorena humming the song, singing to Iris, singing as she danced with him. The threads of time knit past, present and future together and he felt like it was…oh, he was becoming a sap, but it felt like a sign. No, it was a blessing.
Lorena would have loved Lucy. Not that they would have met if she had been alive, and it bent his mind to try to straighten that out. They had talked about it, of course, as all responsible parents did. Especially with his job, it had seemed much more likely that she would have been the one left behind. Nevertheless, she had told him if anything happened to her that she wanted him to move on. He had spent the past three years ignoring her voice in the back of his mind. "On your own, you get too in your head, you get too pessimistic, Garcia. You need someone to pull you back into the world, to remind you of its beauty. To remind you of yours." That was Lucy.
As she finished the song, Lucy whispered "Goodnight, honey," to Iris, and stepped straight into his chest as she opened the door. He grabbed her arms and smiled as he was reminded of their locker room meeting.
"I hope that was okay," she was biting her lip, ducking her head. "I don't want…I don't want it to seem like I'm trying to take her place."
"Iris asked you to. I'm okay with it. Are you okay?" He tipped her chin up and saw her eyes looked strained, like she was holding back tears.
"It's just…I haven't sung it since Mom died. And today, with…everything…" she shrugged, and his heart broke for her. He pulled her close, rubbing his hand down her back. For a moment, she clung to him desperately, but then she broke away. "Iris is waiting for you."
"Lucy…"
"I'm going to take a shower. I'm fine." Garcia just looked at her as she gave him the world's fakest smile. Her eyes were begging him not to push, and as much as he didn't want to, he backed off.
"If you need me, come get me, okay?"
"Yeah," she nodded, already moving away, probably to cry by herself. He ran a hand down his face in defeat before going in to say goodnight to his daughter.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he sat down on the bed beside her and smoothed her hair, still in its messy braid.
"Dad? What did you do to Lucy?"
His shoulders slumped. He didn't want to do this now. But his daughter wasn't likely to care.
"We had a…sort of disagreement. I hurt her feelings," was the lamest way to put it, but it was pretty much all he could say.
"You should apologize."
"I've been trying, I just kept getting interrupted. And I don't think she's ready to hear it. I have to respect that."
"Dad. You have to fix it. We need Lucy. You can't let her go away."
"I'm going to do my best, Iris."
"Seriously, Dad. Kiss Lucy and make up. I'm going to sleep." He shook his head as she shut her own light off and shooed him out the door as he kissed her head.
Garcia hesitated as he passed the hall bathroom. He could hear the exhaust fan whirring and he raised his hand, thinking of knocking. There was a muffled sob, but the water immediately turned on, and he stopped his fist just short of the door. He stood there for a full minute, listening to the water and the sound of Lucy crying, fighting the urge to go in and hold her. Finally, he gave up and went to his room, determined to catch her afterward. But the clean sheets were soft and inviting and he'd been up for over 36 hours, and his exhaustion pulled him under before he was even aware it was happening.
The clock glowed 12:27 when Garcia gave up on sleep and went downstairs, carrying a book with him. It had only been about eight when he went to bed, so of course he'd woken a few hours later and been unable to go back to sleep. Thinking of the day, thinking of the problems presented by Neville and Cahill and their cohorts. Thinking of Lucy. It didn't make any sense that his bed felt too big without her, as she'd never been in it, but it did. In fact, no one had ever been with him in that bed except Iris, but somehow he still felt like Lucy was missing from it. He laid down on the couch and opened Lucy's book, figuring that the only thing likely to distract from thoughts of Lucy was Lucy herself.
Pulled in as he was by the account of the assassination of President McKinley, the third assassination at which he had been present*-the poor man really might have been a harbinger of presidential death-he wasn't immediately disturbed by the sounds from Lucy's room. Slowly, he became aware that something was wrong, and he quickly, but remarkably quietly for a man of his size, bounded up the stairs and down the hall.
"Flynn! Flynn!" She was calling softly but sounded like she was terrified. That was weird—she had never called him that. He burst into the room and searched it wildly, arms out, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Empty.
"Lucy," she was kicking on the bed, and from the light filtering in from the hall, he could see that she was crying. "Lucy," he climbed on the bed and tried to shake her gently, but she whimpered and kicked, this time hitting him in the shin. Giving up on waking her gently, he flipped on the lamp on the bedside table. She stilled for a second before her eyes blinked open.
"Flynn!" she cried and grabbed his neck, kissing him full on the mouth. He was so surprised that he couldn't respond before she was running her hands down his chest and pulling up his shirt. Reacting instinctively, he grabbed her wrist.
"Lucy, not like—"
"I have to check the bleeding!" She yanked up the hem of his t-shirt and inspected his abdomen, her hands smoothing over it and his back, bewildered when she didn't find anything. Sitting back she shook her head and looked up at him. "You're fine. You're…how are you fine?"
"I think you were dreaming. What happened?"
"You were stabbed in the side, I was too far away, I couldn't…but it was wrong, we weren't here, we were dressed differently…it was all wrong. It doesn't make any sense."
"It was a dream, Lucy," he was trying to get his own heart rate back to normal now. "We're in my house, we're fine. I'm fine."
"You're…you're fine." She leaped at him, surprisingly strongly, knocking him onto his back on the bed. The grip she had him in felt desperate, and he held her back, trying to reassure her with his soft words and his presence.
After a few minutes, his shirt was wet, but she was now calmly resting in his arms. He made himself sit up. "Do you think you can sleep now?"
"Mm-hmm," was her only answer, so he stood up and cut the light off before opening the door and heading back downstairs.
"Wait, where are you going?"
"To sleep," he answered as she came to the door.
"Downstairs? Did you…did you banish yourself to your own couch?"
"No," he chuckled, "I woke up and when I couldn't go back to sleep, I went downstairs."
For a moment, she just stared at him in exasperation. Then, her hand was pulling him by the shirt, down the hall toward his room. "Come on," she said.
He followed her wordlessly into his darkened room, until he crawled into his bed and she followed. "Lucy, what?"
"Just for sleeping. Is that okay?"
"It's more than okay. But can we talk?"
She sighed. "If you're up to it, yes."
He sat up and cut on a dim lamp, wanting to look at her as they talked. "Lucy, I'm so sorry. For everything you went through today."
Lucy pulled him down until he was lying on his side, facing her. "Can you tell me anything? Can you tell me what happened last night?"
"Yeah. We've been tracking this organization for a while, and we identified Cahill early this week. We've been investigating him—well, him and Jessica Logan—since Monday. And last night, the warrants came through on a sealed document in his background. It turned out to be your birth certificate."
"And you immediately decided to ask me about it and give me the benefit of the doubt?" She looked at him unflinchingly and it cut him to the bone.
Wincing, eyes shut, he made himself say it. "I…I assumed—temporarily—that you had gotten…close…to me as part of a scheme. To follow our investigation, or divert attention, or something of the sort."
Lucy huffed. "So, I get that we haven't known each other that long, and maybe I don't have a lot of trust earned yet, but why immediately assume the worst?"
Garcia sighed and looked at her. "That's something you'll learn about me, Lucy. I'm not very optimistic. Too long at war, I've seen too many terrible things, seen people do too many terrible things. I never really loved anyone but my mother until Lorena, and they were both taken from me so early. And then there's just…you."
Lucy just waved her hand to tell him to continue.
"Lucy, you're…you're almost too perfect for me. Everything I find out about you, it's something that matches me exactly. Things I don't even know to ask for, like how you geek out over history, how you love your sister, your friends, how you jump right in with Iris. How you're setting out on your own after following in your mother's footsteps for so long. How you're so completely unaware of how beautiful and brilliant you are."
She was shaking her head at him, and he held up his hand to stop her, gently cradling her cheek.
"The odds of me finding you and you deciding to be with me weren't in my favor. And with learning about Wyatt's wife, it didn't seem possible that it wasn't a trap."
"It's not really fair how good you are at this," she looked slightly annoyed, despite her small smile.
"I'm not trying to bullshit you, Lucy, it's just the truth."
She rolled her eyes. "So, then what?"
"Well, then, a few hours later, Denise came in and told me to stop assuming the worst without evidence, and Wyatt came in and reamed me out, but then made some excellent points."
"Such as?"
"Such as that if you had been targeting either the task force or Delta Force, you wouldn't have turned him down once, much less repeatedly."
"Mm-hmm. That probably should have been obvious."
"It was once he said it. I was too emotional before to even think of it."
"So, you sent him?"
"Actually, I argued to at least call you. Sending Wyatt was a compromise. I'm sorry that I wasn't there…"
"I forgive you," she whispered.
He bit his lip. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she slid her arm around his waist. "I don't love that you immediately assumed the worst of me, but…I'm hoping with time you'll come to trust me more. It is a bizarre coincidence. I can see how you might have thought that."
"I don't deserve you."
"Hey," she waited for him to look at her. "Just next time, remember that you aren't the only one in this relationship that cares about the other person?"
"Okay," he said.
"Alright, now can we go to sleep? Are you really okay with me in here—you know, with Iris here?"
"Yes, it's fine, but are you okay? With your…with Cahill?"
She closed her eyes and shook her head, biting her lip. "No. But I'm not sure there's anything you can do about that." She shrugged and he recognized her desire to drop it for now.
With that, he turned the light off and pulled the covers over them. "Well, Lucy, I hope you like to sleep close because I don't think I can let go of you tonight." He gently lifted her until she was lying halfway across his chest.
"Mmm," she hummed at him, throwing a leg over his and slipping an arm up to rest on his stomach. She lifted her head up and kissed him gently. He returned the kiss like a man dying of thirst, and he drank thoroughly from her mouth, even as he tried to temper the passion in it. She hadn't come for that, and it wouldn't have been a wise decision after the day they'd both had.
He did, however, slide a hand down her leg to rest on the back of her thigh as they pulled away. "I am disappointed that you didn't stick with your 'no pants' decision."
"I got cold," she chuckled weakly at him. She was fading fast.
"I'll make sure the thermostat is set higher tomorrow night," he smirked down at her.
"Go to sleep, Garcia," she said, but her words were without heat, and he could hear in them the sound of her smile.
"Yes, love," he whispered back as he tightened his hold on her, twisting the fingers of one hand into her hair, the other on her hip, and relaxed into sleep as he breathed in the delicious scent of her.
Author's Note: Okay, so a couple of things. This will be more than 12 chapters (clearly), but not by much. Next chapter, we're back into the thick of it.
Secondly, *I changed this from the historically accurate fact (RTL was actually present at two presidential assassinations, neither of which was his father's). I had some timeline confusion and thought for a hot minute that it needed to be the historically accurate fact due to the merging, but that would have stayed as they changed it in 1 x 02. It doesn't really affect the story much, but if you're one for details, just FYI.
