"How many nights shall we expect you, ?"
Lucy rolled her eyes at Flynn. If she weren't so disoriented and, quite frankly, terrified, at the situation, she would've called him out on his obvious alias. As if sensing her sass, Flynn tightened his grip on her arm. Hard.
"Indefinitely." Flynn responded, perhaps a little too abrasive. The sharpness in his voice caused a shiver to travel down Lucy's spine. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since Flynn, quite literally, dragged her to the mothership and jetted them off to another time. She took a deep breath, attempting any sort of calm facade. Lucy knew that if she messed this up for him, made it seem as if she was reaching out for help, she would be in for a very unpleasant evening.
The bookkeeper seemed unfazed by his demeanor, simply handing Flynn two rusted keys,
"There you are, rooms 204 and 206," Lucy's pulse relaxed slightly, knowing she would have her own room for the night, "Now you and your wife have a nice night."
Flynn nodded once as Lucy just stared at the woman. She could say something to tip her off, but she doubted anything would get past Flynn. He may be an evil terrorist, but she had to admit that he was smart. Too smart for her to trick him. Flynn moved his hand to her waist, giving her no choice but to trail next to him. She didn't break eye contact with the bookkeeper until she was out of sight.
He led her up to the second floor, his grip on her waist getting painfully tight. She dug her heels into the ground as they rounded a corner,
"Jesus, Flynn you're hurting me," She whispered, not wanting to make a scene for her own sake. His eyes stayed forward as if he hadn't heard her, but she felt his grip loosen slightly.
They came up to room 204 and it suddenly became clear why he had gotten 206 and not 205, for the former was positioned just across the hall. If both doors were open, one could have a full view of both rooms from the far corner of either.
Great, Lucy thought, mourning any whimsical wishes of privacy she previously had. He took out one of the keys, unlocking room 204 with a click. The door released a low groan as it opened, revealing a dark room with wooden floors. A queen bed sat in the center of the room accompanied by a small table with two chairs to the right.
He pushed her in with the hand at her lower back and Lucy jumped as Flynn slammed the door shut behind them. She could feel the anger radiating off of him, his hand still tense around her waist. She swallowed hard, reciting the same thing over and over in her head:
Flynn took me three hours ago. It's a five hour ride for Wyatt and Rufus back to the Lifeboat in 1780 and four more hours for it to charge in the present. Two or so more hours for them to find me here in 1893. In 8 hours, I'll be free and safe.
Eight hours
That is, if any of that information was true. Lucy could only guess how long she's been with Flynn, but 3 hours seemed about right. But what if it took five hours to charge? Six? Was she remembering anything correctly? She took another deep breath to calm herself from a potential panic attack, god knows that's the last thing she needed right now.
Flynn took her wrist in his hands and Lucy flinched at the fact that she had become so accustomed to him having his hands on her. Come to think of it, he hadn't let go of her since the forest. Since he dragged her here against her will. She fumed.
Eight hours.
He pulled her to the bed post, the dark wood stretching from the foot of the bed to the ceiling. She stared at the pattern of the ceiling, absentmindedly tracing the blue swirls. There was nothing she could do now, not until she knew Rufus and Wyatt were here with the lifeboat. That meant cooperating with Flynn for at least a few more hours, avoiding any unnecessary consequences. It meant following him, allowing him to drag her like a lost rag doll. She calmed herself by remembering it would be worth it eventually.
Eventually couldn't come soon enough.
She heard metal rattling as she turned back to Flynn digging in his pockets. His left hand was still on her wrist as they both stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed. What on earth was he looking for?
As if on cue, his right hand emerged with a pair of handcuffs. Lucy instinctively pulled back, attempting to wretch her hand out of his grip.
"Lucy," He groaned as if she were nothing but an uncooperative puppy. She pulled harder, panic rising in her stomach. Claustrophobes and handcuffs do not mix well,
"Lucy." He said again, venom rising in his tone. She ceased her struggle but continued to breath hard. She shook her head,
"No," Was all she said. No, what? She thought to herself, as if saying that one word with compel him to let her go. He shook his head, locking the cuff around her right hand. He reached for her left hand as she brought it up to push him away,
"Lucy, stop struggling. You're just making this harder for yourself." He grabbed her left wrist, locking the handcuffs on the other side of the bedpost. She yanked on the metal cuffs once for good measure, hoping for that 1 in a million chance that maybe they weren't secured correctly.
They were.
Lucy released an aggravated grunt as she kicked the bottom of the bedpost. She heard a chuckle from the corner, not even noticing that Karl had entered the room.
"Did you find it?" Flynn asked him casually, as if there wasn't a girl handcuffed to the bed two feet in front of him. Karl nodded, looking Lucy up and down with interest,
"Yup, two blocks down. A place called the Studebaker Building on Michigan Avenue," He plopped himself down unceremoniously at the table, "They're expecting you in a half hour."
"Good," Flynn replied. He grabbed his gun from its holster, replacing the empty magazine with a full one. He cleared his throat and turned to Lucy, drawing his pointed hand up to her face,
"You, stay. Don't do anything stupid," Flynn grinned at her scowl, knowing quite well that she had no choice but to stay, "Karl, if she does anything don't hurt her. Wait for me to get back,"
"Got it." Karl said. Flynn flashed Lucy a devious smile before exiting the room.
~~o~~
The time Flynn was gone was quite uneventful. Boring even. Karl was uncharacteristically quiet as Lucy stood rooted to her spot, thinking of ways she could possibly escape to no avail. After about twenty minutes, she gave up, sliding to the ground where she sat until Flynn returned.
The door opened quietly as Flynn's large frame entered the room. He closed the door carefully, turning the lock for good measure. He walked towards the table, his eyes locking with Lucy's,
"How was she?" Flynn asked Karl, who had been so still the entire time he could've been sleeping,
"Quiet as a mouse," He replied. Flynn seemed surprised at the admission, but brushed it off all the same. He handed Karl a cloth bag,
"Go get some rest, I'll watch her tonight," Flynn said, his eyes not leaving Lucy's. Her stomach dropped and she imagined her face dropped as well. Flynn would be watching her. All night.
Shit.
Karl got up and walked out obediently, leaving Lucy and Flynn alone in room 204.
Lucy turned her face to the ground, still feeling his stare on her. Her head rested against the bedpost, her hands awkwardly cuffed near her face. Her body was curled into itself, the old hotel walls keeping none of the winter chill out of the air. Lucy heard Flynn fumble around for a few minutes before taking a deep breath,
"Get up." He ordered. She ignored him, closing her eyes and sighing. She heard him shift on the floorboards,
"Lucy, get up. Now." It was almost too easy to ignore him again. She told herself she would obey him to protect herself, but she also told herself that stalling him was equally as helpful.
"God damn it, Lucy," He grunted as he marched toward her. Panic rose in her stomach as she felt his arms thread under hers, pulling her body up roughly. He turned her so her back faced him. He scratched his head before pulling at the fabric of her dress, exposing her corset,
"You're so damn stubborn. You could at least make this easy, but of course not," He mumbled. He pulled at the threads of her corset hard, jerking her forward,
"If you hadn't handcuffed me to a post maybe I could be of more use," She spat, clanging the metal against the wood for good measure,
"So she speaks," Flynn raised an eyebrow. He made it halfway down the lacing of the corset, "I wanted to see what you'd do."
Lucy craned her head to look at him,
"What I would do?" She repeated, "What choice did I have but sit there and wait?"
"You surprised me," Flynn said, his tone lighter, "I expected you to bombard Karl with questions, scream for help, maybe throw a shoe or two. But you were quiet, silent even."
Lucy turned her head back to the post. Normally she would do those things, but she was exhausted beyond belief and becoming more and more hopeless by the second. She said nothing. Flynn's hands stilled,
"Just like now."
Lucy closed her eyes, realizing Flynn had finished unlacing the back of her garment.
"The front, too," She murmured. Flynn grunted in response,
"I'm not uncuffing you," He said, reaching for a small silver key. She sighed, hating the alternative even more than her current position,
"Why, Flynn? It's not like I have any chance to take you down." She admitted. He unlocked her right wrist and took her shoulders in his hands,
"Yes, but you're resourceful. You want me to underestimate you, and I know too well how capable you are." Flynn's voice held flattery, but Lucy just rolled her eyes. He turned her back to the pole, locking her handcuffs behind her back. And the pole, of course.
"I hate you," She said, arching her back uncomfortably. She hated this position; she felt vulnerable. Flynn stood in front of her and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. Flynn wiped his hands on his jeans before reaching towards the strings on her chest. Lucy's eyes widened and she stumbled backwards as far as she could before the handcuffs stopped her. Almost against her will, a small whimper escaped from her lips,
"I'm just trying to help you," He whispered, almost softly,
"Then let me go!" She yelled, realizing too late a little too loudly. It must have been the middle of the night, and these walls were far from sound proof. But she didn't care, let them hear.
Lucy could tell that Flynn made the same connection.
"Lucy," His eyes were daggers, "Don't."
He was almost too easy to ignore. She took a deep breath
Flynn lunged forward, clamping his hand down over her mouth. But she was dedicated, screw being obedient. She screamed, and even with his hand over her mouth she made a considerable amount of noise,
"Stop it," He hissed, his face a mere inch from her own. She shook her head and he painfully pushed down on her mouth harder, digging her back into the pole. She cursed the handcuffs binding her in her place.
"Shut up now or I swear to god-" His venomous threat was cut off by Karl bounding into the room,
"What the hell is going on in here?" He said, breathing hard.
"I'll handle it." Flynn's eyes never left Lucy's, his hand remaining on her mouth. Karl scoffed and raised an eyebrow,
"Maybe we can teach her a lesson." He eyed her mischievously and Lucy felt her heart drop into her stomach. Flynn noticed her eyes widen with fear,
"Karl, leave. Don't come back in here tonight, that's an order."
He paused for a moment before exiting. Flynn cleared his throat,
"I'm going to take my hand away and you wont scream." Flynn's words were certain. She raised her eyebrow at him, shaking her head. He wore a look of confusion. To clear the air, she rattled the handcuffs against the wood and glanced at his hand on her mouth. Flynn rolled his eyes.
"For such a smart woman, you seem to be incapable of understanding the position you're in right now."
Now it was Lucy's turn to roll her eyes, huffing a breath from her nose. Flynn's expression changed, his anger and frustration melting away. He licked his lips,
"Fine. If I uncuff you, you won't scream when I take my hand away. You will cooperate and act as my very obedient wife. Deal?"
Lucy fumed, making to shake her head before common sense stopped her. That was her plan, wasn't it? Obey and do what she needed to do to stay alive until the boys came after her. Without a second time machine, she really didn't have a choice. Against every instinct in her body, Lucy acquiesced, nodding her head swiftly. With unnecessary caution, Flynn slowly moved his hand away from Lucy's mouth, preparing for the possibility that she'd scream despite their agreement. Part of her wanted to do that, to take the chance that someone would hear her and help her. But she couldn't help but think that anyone who would come to rescue her would be in danger themselves, and that Flynn wouldn't hesitate to kill them. So, she eyed Flynn as his hand lowered to his pocket. She bit her lips to resist the innate compulsion to scream. Lucy raised her eyebrows, and Flynn's mouth cracked into a slight smile.
"Patience, Lucy." He fumbled around in his pockets until his hand emerged with a silver key. He smirked, deciding whether or not he wanted to continue teasing her. She shook her head,
"Garcia Flynn I swear to god-" Flynn held up his hand, holding a dark finger against her lips. Her eyes went wide in anger,
"Obedient. Wife." He punctuated the words with a tap on her lips, "That, or you and that bedpost will be very well acquainted by morning," Flynn said, his mouth breaking into a smile. She could tell how much he enjoyed this, somehow finding amusement in her immense frustration. All she could do was glare at him as he reached around her, releasing the handcuffs.
Lucy exhaled, rubbing her red and sore wrists. She ran her tongue along her lips, just now realizing how thirsty she was. She had been so preoccupied with her predicament she had completely forgotten that she had eaten practically nothing all day. Flynn grunted, catching Lucy's attention.
"One advantage to our little deal." Flynn withdrew a thin piece of cardstock from one of the drawers, handing it to her. "Now we can order room service."
"It's the middle of the night." Lucy shoved the paper into Flynn's chest. He rolled his eyes.
"Suit yourself." He crossed the room in two strides, pressing a small button that resembled a doorbell. She heard a faint ring in the distance, followed by shuffling footsteps. Not even a minute later, there was a knock at their door. Flynn turned to face Lucy.
"Sit on the bed," He ordered. It physically pained her to do so, but she did as he said. With a flare of drama that rivaled Flynn himself, she plopped down on the edge of the bed, throwing her arms up in frustration. "Don't move, don't speak, just don't do anything. Obedient." He dangled the handcuffs from his index finger. Lucy huffed,
"Do I need your permission to breathe, dear husband of mine?"
Flynn glared at her before opening the door, revealing a bellhop who had to have been only 14 years old. He was tall though, the boy only a few inches shorter than Flynn. He smiled,
"How can I help you, sir?" The boy said. Flynn slipped the boy a few coins.
"Just a beer," Flynn said. The boy took the coins, nodding.
"And anything for you, ma'am?" Flynn's eyes went wide with the realization that the boy was talking to Lucy. He turned, watching as Lucy sat silently on the bed. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, her body sitting unnaturally still. She shifted her gaze to Flynn, cocking her head to the side and shrugging her shoulders.
Flynn fumed, turning to the boy,
"She'll take one as well."
The boy nodded, his brows furrowed in confusion. Without another word, he turned and left. Flynn slammed the door behind him, crossing the room to stand at the foot of the bed where Lucy sat. She stared up at Flynn, eyeing him innocently.
"What the hell was that?" Flynn put his hands on his hips, his right hand dangerously close to where his gun was holstered. Lucy scoffed,
"You told me not to speak. I was just following your orders."
Flynn shook his head, bending down and leaning forward. His face came within inches from her own and Lucy couldn't ignore the fear that grew in her stomach. She drew away from him as far as she could without laying down on the bed completely.
"You will speak when spoken to, Lucy. I am a man of my word, but I made no promises to return you in one piece. If you keep on causing unnecessary issues, I'm afraid Mason Industries will receive a very different Lucy Preston when I return you." Her heart was racing, but no matter how much distance she tried to create between them, Flynn closed it in seconds. She climbed on the bed fully, crawling until her back hit the headboard. He followed, crawling towards her. She winced when he drew his arms up, flattening his palms on either side of her head, creating a cage around her. "Do you understand me?"
Breathing hard, Lucy just barely nodded. Flynn's anger seemed to subside, and he nodded his head back at her.
"Good."
They sat there in silence, neither of them moving. Lucy's stare hopped from one of Flynn's eyes to the other, shifting her position on the bed. Finally, Flynn pulled away. He reached for the ties on her corset and, on instinct, she slapped his hand away. Reaching with his other hand, he caught her wrist. She tried to yank her arm out of his grasp, but his grip was iron. She grunted in frustration,
"What the hell are you doing?" She eyed him furiously, trying to push even further away from him.
He threw her arm down,
"Get undressed and go to sleep. I've had enough of you tonight."
Tired with his presence so close to her, Lucy gathered the saliva in her mouth and spit in his face. The shot landed just under his left eye, and, for the fourth time that day, his expression turned furious,
"Then you should've thought twice about abducting me!" She yelled. He wiped his cheek, covering her mouth with his hand once more. This time, the force of his grip pushed her head into the pillow, and she was suddenly under him. Her claustrophobia kicked in, causing her body immediate panic. Against her will, her body fought the man enclosing her, punching and kicking whatever flesh she could find. Flynn pressed down harder,
"Stop!" He hissed. She couldn't hear him, her senses blinded by the adrenaline now coursing through her veins. She felt her fist connect with Flynn's face, drawing blood from her knuckles and underneath his eye. The blow knocked him sideways, just enough for her to slide under him, rolling off the bed and onto the floor. Her breathing was heavy, as was Flynn's, and for a few moments, there was nothing but silence.
Her bare legs were freezing against the wooden floor. No matter how hard she willed herself to move, her body would not obey. Her stare remained locked on Garcia Flynn, and more specifically, the drop of dark blood running down his cheek.
At that moment, she saw something snap inside him just before he launched himself off the bed. Lucy reared back, not even fighting to conceal the scream that involuntarily left her lips. She brought her hands up in defense, just as she heard the sound of a familiar bell ringing.
Flynn froze immediately, almost comically so; his right hand drawn back, undoubtedly in preparation for a slap to Lucy's face. The realization dawned on them both, remembering the beer he had ordered just minutes ago. In a flash, Lucy was standing, ripping her arm out of the grip that pulled her up. Flynn opened a cabinet, tossing an off white towel in Lucy's direction. She caught it, the fabric a soft blessing to her ripped and blood soaked knuckles.
Flynn drew his own towel across his face, smearing the blood to the point where it just looked as if he was blushing. He pointed to Lucy.
"Don't just stand there, fix yourself." He gestured to her torn dress, half open corset, and tattered face. She licked her sore lip and tasted the coppery hue of blood, realizing that she had torn it open in their struggle. She brought the towel to her lips, wiping down her chin to the best of her ability.
She examined herself in the reflection of the window, deciding that the rest of her appearance would not be a quick fix. The boy had already been out there abnormally long. Before common sense could stop her, she crossed the room, grabbing Flynn's discarded suit jacket and putting it on. It was huge on her, large enough to hide the ripped seams and busted ties of her dress. Without another glance at her captor, she crossed the room again, sitting on the foot of the bed just as she'd done before. To aggravate Flynn even more, she stared straight at the wall, refusing to look even remotely in his direction.
She saw him inhale deeply in the corner of her eye before opening the door to the boy.
"Here you are, sir, two lager's for you and the lady," The boy said, handing Flynn a tray. Lucy's finger traced the seam of his jacket, catching on something metal-and Sharp. With a low gasp, it dawned on her that of course Garcia Flynn's suit jacket was lined with knives. With a glance in his direction, she yanked the thread enclosing the hidden pocket. She quickly removed the knife, which was a switchblade, and tucked it in the lining of her underwear.
Flynn nodded, shutting the door in the boy's face before he could say anything else. Flynn crossed the room, placing the beers on the wooden table.
"You should've said thank you," Lucy murmured, her fingers toying with the sleeve of Flynn's jacket. He grunted,
"You should've asked permission before taking my stuff." He popped open the first beer, taking three large gulps.
"What do you think that boy would've thought had he seen me the way I was? Split lip? Torn dress?" Flynn stilled, his hand pausing mid-reach. Lucy swore she saw his eyes flare with an emotion she couldn't quite identify. Guilt? Pity?
She shrugged it off, continuing,
"You would've been lucky if he didn't call the cops the minute you opened that door." She finally looked in his eyes, his brows drawn together and his beer still hovering just above the table. "So, you're welcome." She finished, wiping her palms against her dress.
Flynn set his beer down, opening the second bottle. He reached into his bag, pulling out a bag of what looked like little white pills. Lucy rose to her feet,
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm gonna need my coat back, Lucy."
"I asked you a question," She said, stepping toward him. Flynn opened the bag,
"I have weapons in the lining of that jacket. So, unless you're going to use them against me, take it off."
Lucy huffed, shrugging off the coat and throwing it on the ground. Flynn merely glanced at it, uninterested. Lucy watched, waiting for an explanation. Sensing her discomfort, Flynn held up the tablet.
"This'll help you sleep-"
"No." Lucy's voice was firm, stronger than she thought she was capable of. Flynn sighed, more out of annoyance than frustration or anger.
"Lucy-"
"Did you actually think I'd agree to you drugging me? Are you insane?"
"We're both exhausted- I think you'll find me even less agreeable when I've had no sleep." Flynn's tone was flat, and Lucy found it even more infuriating that he wasn't raising his voice in the slightest.
"I don't see how that's my problem," Lucy said, turning to face the opposite wall. She busied her fingers with unlacing the remaining strings on her corset. She finished with an aggravated grunt, throwing it to the floor. What remained was her off-white shift, which, in these days, was equal to wearing nothing but bra and underwear. She silently thanked the traditions of old, in which it was commonplace to wear full dresses underneath normal dresses. Her breath released shakily, her nerves only slightly eased by the knife tucked against her hip.
"I'm tired, Lucy. I need to make sure you stay put so I can sleep." Flynn's voice was softer than usual behind her. She shook her head,
"What about Karl? Isn't that the point of your little battle buddy?" She scoffed, slipping off her boots. Silence dragged on for unusually long, until Lucy turned to face him to make sure he was still there. His face held that same grim look, his eyes suddenly three shades darker. He had sat down, his finger absentmindedly tapping the edge of the table.
"I saw the way he was looking at you—before, I mean." Lucy shifted uncomfortably on the floorboards. Flynn cleared his throat, eyes finally meeting hers. "The men that I work with—I can't trust them to...restrain themselves."
Lucy scowled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"The men you work with are mercenaries, Flynn. You can't trust them with anything."
Flynn grunted out a laugh, and Lucy approached the table.
"Especially you," Flynn just barely whispered. The words halted Lucy in her tracks, the air between them suddenly felt heavy.
"And whose fault is that?" Lucy breathed.
Near the edge, the beer meant for her was open and full, foaming slightly. She looked at Flynn, his expression curious. Lucy hadn't seen what he'd done with the pill that he'd been holding, and she didn't trust him enough to ask if he'd put it in her drink. She reached out, taking the beer from Flynn's hand, taking a long sip.
Her decision made Flynn sigh.
"I've seen what Karl is capable of. I'm warning you now to be careful with him." He stood to tower over her. "Men like him can't control their impulses."
"Anyone can control their impulses. Men like him just don't care enough to try." Lucy stilled, her throat suddenly becoming dry. "Men like you."
If she didn't know better, Lucy would've thought she saw pain flash behind his eyes. It was gone in an instant, just like every involuntary show of emotion from Flynn. The moment his soul takes a peek at the light, his body shuts it out. He dropped his gaze.
"You're either taking this pill or you're sleeping handcuffed to the bed. Or me. It's your decision," Flynn said. Lucy scoffed,
"You say 'decision' like I actually have a choice in the matter."
"Would you rather me give you no options at all?"
Lucy's face fell. Perhaps she had been feeling her stomach churn and her head swim for the past few minutes, but now it was becoming too strong to bear. Her vision began to swim, Flynn's face weaving in and out of symmetry. She stepped back shakily, any sense of balance gone in an instant.
"I warned you not to force my hand, Lucy." His voice was distant, echoed, somehow far yet somehow close. It was his drink. He knew that she wouldn't trust him - that she would rather drink from his own beer than hers. God, she was so stupid.
"You're not stupid. You're actually quite resourceful; and careful." She watched as Flynn's crooked body crossed to the wooden table. He picked up both drinks, tipped them upside down, and poured the contents into the extra chamberpot. Once they were empty, he threw the bottles to the ground. "So careful, I had to spike both of the drinks."
Lucy fell, her back hitting the soft mattress. The urge to sleep was so tempting, so easy…
"Goodnight, Lucy." She heard, as she drifted off to sleep.