"Why did we come back so early?" Rufus lamented. "I mean… the raid isn't until 1:20 in the morning. Why didn't we arrive today? Why'd we have to come yesterday?"

"Because that's when Rittenhouse came," Flynn stated. "Duh."

Breakfast at Honey's, the café they'd discovered the day before, had so far been what Rufus would consider a disaster. Wyatt and Lucy barely spoke, avoiding eye contact with anyone but especially each other. They were constantly shifting in their chairs, skittish and uneasy. Rufus and even Flynn tried to initiate casual conversation, avoiding any and all work topics, but nothing took. Lucy and Wyatt both took frequent and sometimes long bathroom breaks but always came back looking even more uptight than before. Finally, Rufus couldn't stand it anymore. Who cares that they were in a public place, he had to say something. If things went sideways it's not like they would ever see any of these people again.

"Okay guys, I've had enough," he announced in a quiet voice. "Do we need to rent another motel room for the day? Lock you guys in?"

Lucy spat out her coffee. Wyatt slammed his mug down so hard it chipped.

"Rufus!"

"What the hell, man!"

"I'm not kidding. You guys are so strung out right now it's like… I don't even know what it is. But it's ridiculous, and distracting, and more infuriating than you've ever been. And that's saying a lot. I tried to tell you, Lucy, but…"

"Tried to tell Lucy what?" Wyatt peered suspiciously at the historian. "What did he say to you?"

"I told her you guys need to bust down your ridiculous blockade of sexual tension before you both explode."

"WHAT?"

It was the closest to a shriek anyone had ever heard from the soldier. Several heads in the café turned.

"What?" he repeated in a hissed whisper. "Why? I mean… how dare you… I mean…"

Rufus shrugged.

"He has a point," Flynn meekly offered.

Wyatt glared at him. If looks could kill. "You stay the hell out of this," he growled.

"Sorry, but I'm part of the team here, and your guys' behaviour is affecting us all. I won't let it affect the security of the mission."

"Oh, so suddenly Lucy and I's sex life is a matter of national security?"

"Your lack of sex life, yes," Rufus nodded.

"Well… I mean…"

"Screw you, Rufus!" Lucy finally burst.

"Yeah!" Wyatt thumped a fist on the table. "Screw you! You don't have any right to meddle in our affairs."

"You mean lack of affairs."

Lucy smacked a disbelieving hand to her forehead while Wyatt glowered at their friend.

"Rufus, have you heard of the term poking the bear?" Flynn hissed.

"Says the man who tried to provoke and murder us how many times?"

The taller man stiffened. "Not what we're talking about here."

"Right. Sorry. Friends with intimacy issues is not the same as revenge fueled time bandit."

"Though right now they're possibly as dangerous."

"Hmm. You've got that right."

"We are not that bad!" the not-couple objected in unison, Lucy smacking her hand down on the table. Wyatt covered it with his own in solidarity. But a shock like lightning jolted through them at the contact and they withdrew their hands as if burned. They looked into each others' eyes, puzzled, but suddenly entranced.

Rufus shook his head. "Oy vey…"

"Let's just get back on track with the mission at hand, shall we?" Flynn smiled widely.

They spent the rest of the morning acquiring new clothes, all four of them immensely relieved when Lucy ditched the white dress in a trash can. Though the new, still flowery but this time purple dress Lucy had chosen wasn't all that much better. A more modest neckline for sure, but the way the bottom hem fluttered up at any breeze, showing all the more hints of soft, pale thigh… Lucy joked at one point that they should just revisit Barbara and her expansive wardrobe but had been met with resounding no's, with an extra hefty glare from Wyatt. Being outside in the fresh air with the raid swiftly approaching, their focus back on the goal at hand, the fog that had clouded Wyatt's mind since the day before seemed to have cleared a bit. So long as he concentrated on the mission and only the mission, the humming in his veins was kept to a dull roar. Along with his focus however came other issues. Or rather, other questions. It was a beautiful, bright day but Wyatt could swear that colours seemed a bit brighter. Edges sharper. Smells stronger. Like the smell of Lucy. She was a quarter block ahead of him, walking beside Rufus, but he could swear her lingering perfume was right beside him. It mixed with the smell of blooming flowers, the dirty sidewalk, even the sullen, brooding Flynn a few steps behind him. It was like all of Wyatt's senses were on overdrive. It reminded him of stories he'd heard from his army buddies of testing performance enhancing drugs.

It was amazing.

He felt like he could accomplish anything right then. Take on Rittenhouse single-handedly. Pilot the damn lifeboat himself so he could just take Lucy home and…

He shook his head. No. No Lucy thoughts. Not until after the raid, which was due to begin right about… he glanced at his stolen watch. Damnit. It was only two in the afternoon. What the hell were they going to do all day?

"Why don't we go to a museum?" the words came out of him without his even realizing.

Rufus stopped short and turned to look at him, agape. "A museum? You just suggested a museum?"

"Sure, why not?"

Lucy was beaming at him and he squared his shoulders, encouraged. He'd do anything to get rid of the looks of apprehension and awkwardness that had plagued them since late the night before.

"I mean, what else are we gonna do? Statue of Liberty looks the same now as it does in our time. Let's go see what they think modern art means right now."

Lucy was nodding, grinning widely through closed lips. The candy pink lipstick had long since faded but they were still beautiful. So soft and kissable and…

"Off we go!" he said loudly, turning on his heel and beelining for the closest metro station.

The museum turned out to be the perfect way to pass the time. Wyatt declared they would probably be safe to split up and was immensely relieved when he was finally able to be alone. No glowering Flynn, no talkative Rufus, no gorgeous, gorgeous Lucy. Just him, a big space to pace around and try to work off some energy, and a breeze of perfect, refreshing air conditioning. With Lucy out of sight he figured his blood pressure might finally drop but to his dismay it didn't. He thought all the art would be distracting but he kept turning to the side to comment on it, curious for Lucy's opinion. But she wasn't there. He wished she was there. He flopped down onto a bench and put his head in his hands. Damnit what was wrong with him. Could he not have her out of his sight for half a bloody hour?

Apparently not.

What had he been thinking anyways, splitting them up? How could he possibly know it was safe? For all he knew the riots weren't even why Rittenhouse had travelled to 1969. What if it was all just a ruse? What if it was a trap? What if their only mission was to take out the Time Team? Take out Lucy. His blood pounded as he leapt up, suddenly frantic, looking around for any sign of Lucy.

Nothing.

So began a frenzied search, running up and down every hallway of the massive museum, trying not to scream her name and cause a scene. He was about to give up and cause a scene, to hell with the consequences, when he finally saw her. Sitting on a bench. With Flynn.

Laughing.

A rage overtook him and he flew forwards.

"Lucy!" he barked. She jumped and turned to face him, eyes huge and worried and innocent and just like that his sudden rage disappeared, leaving him with nothing but relief.

"Lucy!" he choked.

"Hey," she frowned as he approached. "You okay?"

He said nothing, just picked her up off the bench and wrapped her in his arms. She stood, stock still in shock for several moments before her arms enveloped him back and she squeezed. It was everything he needed, a classic, Preston hug, the most comforting thing he'd ever felt.

"Lucy," he whispered, burying his face in her neck, breathing her in. She was safe. Everything was okay.

"That's me." Her words were tinged with confusion but also amusement. She rubbed a hand up and down his back. "You okay?"

He reluctantly pulled back, quickly scanning her face to make sure she was, in fact, alright.

Her face was perfect. As always. God she was so beautiful.

"I am now," he smiled softly.

Behind her, Flynn started to fake gag.

"We are in public, people," he scolded.

Lucy giggled and hugged Wyatt once more, fast and tight, before fully stepping away.

"Calm down, Flynn. I've done a lot worse in public and never got arrested for it," she leered.

Wyatt's brain fritzed at the thought.

"Really?" He rocked on his heels like a boy anticipating a present. "Like what?"

"Oh wouldn't you like to know," she tossed over her shoulder, raising a brow. And then she walked away. Wyatt watched her hips sway for several moments, mesmerized. Where was the woman from the hallway, hesitant and unsure? He didn't know and he didn't want to know. He wanted to know more about this Lucy. The one she'd shown glimpses of at Barbara's place and in the bar. Was she feeling what he was? That the world was open and bright and full of possibilities? He jogged after her. Flynn didn't follow them.

"I would," Wyatt grabbed her elbow as he arrived at her side. "I would like to know." Just like at breakfast, a shockwave passed between them and he pulled his arm back as if bitten. In hindsight, following her had probably been a very bad idea.

"Too bad."

"Please?"

"No."

"A hint?"

"You know what they say about the quiet, bookish types," she alluded with a wink. He swallowed hard and bit the inside of his cheek.

"What if I ask really nicely?"

"You already have."

"What if I tell you a story of my own?"

"Don't want to know."

"Really?"

"Really. I do not need to know what a bunch of testosterone pumped meathead army boys do for fun."

"Wow. That was so many insults in one I can't even sort through them."

"You'll live."

"How about I owe you a favour then?"

She paused.

"A favour? What kind of favour?"

He grinned and stepped into her space and pitched his voice low like he knew she liked. "Anything you want."

She bit her bottom lip, raked her gaze between his eyes and his lips a few times. She leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear as she spoke, wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

"What I'd like…" she breathed. "What I'd really like…"

"Yeah?" he whispered, nerves alight, skin on fire from her breath.

"Is for you to not ask me again."

She pulled back abruptly and laughed at his crestfallen face.

"Cheer up Wyatt. It's not like I just kicked your puppy."

"You might as well have!"

"You don't have a puppy to kick!"

"I could though. One day."

"Uh-huh, sure. Along with a white picket fence and 2.4 kids?"

Wyatt stopped short. House. Dog. Kids. Kids with his blue eyes and Lucy's wild, thick hair...

She turned to look at him and took his dumbfounded look as completely the opposite of what it actually was.

"Oh, God, Wyatt, I'm so sorry! I didn't even… I wasn't thinking about what I was saying."

He shook his head and peered at her. "What are you apologizing for?"

"Talking about kids… you know, Jessica? And the whole… pregnancy mess…"

"Oh," the lightbulb went off in his brain and he could not correct her fast enough. "No, don't worry about it, that's not what I was thinking about at all. Thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

"Then why did you look so stunned?"

"Umm... because…"

"Because what?"

He had no idea what to say. He certainly couldn't tell her the truth. She kept looking at him, imploring, but words had completely escaped him. So he did the absolute last thing he should have done.

He kissed her.

Oh God, finally, he kissed her.

And this time there was no Jimmy or Simon to get in the way. No strangers on the dance floor. No lady in curlers.

And the second he kissed her any sane thought he might have still held flew right out his ears. It was like a dam had finally burst and every feeling he'd kept locked up came pouring out. He cradled her face between his hands like the precious thing that it was while her arms snaked around his waist, holding him with the ferocity of her most earnest hugs. It unbalanced him, made him stumble backwards. He vaguely registers hitting a wall, the noise of something crashing to the ground, but it was all just vague noise. All he knew was the taste of Lucy, the feel of her body against them.

And then the feel of Lucy being ripped away from him.

"No!" he cried, lunging forward after her, her hands reaching out for him, face alight with terror.

Rittenhouse! They'd found them! It was a trap after all!

Except it wasn't.

Rufus and Flynn had appeared out of nowhere, both yelling at them and he finally registered the fact that Lucy wasn't about to be abducted by Rittenhouse.

She was about to be handcuffed by police.

The next few moments were a blur to his heightened senses as he looked down to the floor beside him. A probably priceless piece of art lay ripped and broken, glass shattered, on the ground. Woops. He looked back up at the cop, handcuffs dangling, the first half already clicking shut over Lucy's slim wrist. His decision was made in an instant. He lurched forward to grab the chain of the handcuffs.

"Lucy!" Wyatt cried. "Run!" and he wrenched the cuffs out of the cops hand, pulling her by them to keep her with him as he bolted towards the exit, Lucy miraculously keeping up with him despite wearing heels. People were yelling, cops running after them and civilians running out of their way as they hurtled out the front doors and down the steps. Beside him, her hand now clasped in his, Lucy was laughing. He couldn't help but join her as they fled down the sidewalk, turned sharply down a side street, ducked and weaved until they finally hid behind a dumpster in a tiny, shadowed alley.

"Did we lose them?" Lucy wheezed, clutching his shoulders, peeking over and pressing herself against his back as he tried to shield her from view.

"I think so…"

She hid her face in the bulk of his shoulder, muffling her laughter. His own body shook with mirth, her hot breath on his back suffusing every nerve in his body with warmth.

He turned around to look at her, grasping her elbows in his hands. "What a rush!"

"I know!"

"Should that have been as fun as it was?"

She threw her head back and laughed harder. "Probably not! But who gives a damn?"

Wyatt took a deep breath once he finally started to calm down, several minutes later. "It makes me think of Bonnie and Clyde. The way they loved their life of crime."

"Me too!"

"You can't deny the adrenaline. The crazy, wild, beat of your heart."

"Yeah…" Lucy's voice dropped, her eyelids drooping not with exhaustion, but with heat.

"The thrill of possibly getting caught…" he continued.

"Mmhmm," she nodded her head and reached up to grasp the lapels of his shirt. The cuff that still trapped her wrist bounced lightly against his chest.

"Would be a wild ride, that kind of life."

"Wild," she repeated, raspy.

"Nothing to do but decide your next hit. No responsibilities, no jobs, no-"

"Will you just shut up and kiss me already?"

"Yes ma'am."

The alleyway was dirty and exposed but Wyatt couldn't care less. Lucy was in his arms, where she should be, where he wanted her to stay forever. What could possibly be more important than that?

A while later, Lucy was gnawing on his bottom lip and he was moving his hand up her side towards her chest when she suddenly gasped and pulled away with a pop.

"Flynn and Rufus!" she exclaimed.

"They'll be fine," he brushed her off. "We'll just meet them back at the café like the plan says."

"Do we know how to get to the café?"

"Hey, if we can figure out a way out of 1754, we can figure out a way through New York."

"Hmm," she grinned and kissed him. "Guess you're right." She kissed him again.

"We do make a pretty great team after all."

She grinned against his lips, nipping at him. "In all sorts of things," she husked.

"You could say we're a couple of reckless hotheads,"

"I guess you're just a bad influence on me," she said in a tone that suggested bad meant very very good.

"Can we just go home already? I'm sure the riot will go just fine. We have riots in our time too. Don't need to see one here."

She mumbled incoherently against his lips, most likely agreeing with him but protesting at the same time. He think he heard a muffled "Protect history" and rolled his eyes at her predictability. It both drove him insane and made him love her all the more.

Love. Yup. He'd said it aloud, once. Before all hell broke loose once more, and he was dying to say it again. Soon, he hoped.

Soon.

They managed to pry themselves apart long enough to find their way back to Honey's without any trouble, stealing a box of hairpins along the way so Wyatt could pick the lock on Lucy's handcuff. He was upset by the red ring it left around her delicate skin but she insisted it was fine. He rubbed his thumb gently across the mark just to make sure. Her hand had trembled. Then she stole a purse and very deliberately looked him in the eye when she placed the handcuffs into it.

"For later," she suggested.

He was incapable of replying, instead dragging her into the nearest alley and kissing her again. They only had to duck into two more alleys for a quick "breather" as they made their way back to their teammates.

Okay, three alleys.

Rufus and Flynn were waiting for them, mostly empty coffee mugs and scraps of food on the table, and twin expressions of irritation.

"Oh. Look who it is. Nice of you two to show up," Rufus bit out.

"I figured you two would have been halfway out of the state by now, running off to whatever fantasy land you think you're living in now."

"Come on guys," Wyatt laughed as he sat down in the booth, helping Lucy squish in beside him, practically on his lap. "We're not that bad."

"You're right."

Rufus glared at Flynn, aghast.

"You're worse," Flynn finished. Rufus sighed in relief.

"Thank you! Even the terrorist agrees!"

"Killing people is one thing, but destroying art? In a museum? That crosses a line, guys."

"Never mind getting arrested for public indecency."

"It was just a little kiss!" Lucy pouted.

"If little kiss means shoving your tongues so far down each other's throats they're halfway to your stomachs."

Instead of being shamed or repentant, the pair just looked sickeningly satisfied.

"The second we get home you two are seeing a doctor."

"Whaaaat?"

"You guys would never be so flippant about this if you were in your right minds. Something is wrong. I don't know what, but we'll figure it out. Until then, can you possibly find it within yourselves to behave like adults for just a few hours more? Can ya do that?"

Lucy shrugged coyly. Wyatt shoved his hands in his pockets and mirrored her shrug.

"I know I've been telling you guys to get together for ages but this is so not what I meant," Rufus shook his head and downed the last dregs of his now cold coffee.

"Be careful what you wish for," Lucy sing-songed.

"Yes! Singing!" Wyatt lit up. "Lucy could sing while we wait!"

"Oh hell no," Rufus shook his head vigorously.

"You have such a pretty voice Lucy," Wyatt sighed. "I could listen to you all day."

She giggled and blushed and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"As curious as I am, this is not the time and place," Flynn said. "Also, you two sicken me."

They grinned at each other and leaned in for a kiss.

"Nope, no no no, none of that. No more arrests are needed." Rufus leaned across the table to grab each of their shoulders and push them apart.

"Hey!" they grumbled.

A minute later they were grinning again.

"For cryin out loud, people," Rufus cried. "Hands above the table. Come on. Right now."

They had the grace to look guilty as they raised their hands and laid them on the checkered tablecloth.

"We work with teenagers," Flynn said to Rufus.

"Indeed we do. I never thought you of all people would be the sensible one."

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"For once I meant it as one."

"See? Wyatt and I are only doing good here," Lucy said earnestly. "Because of us you two are finally friends!"

"Let's not go too far there," Rufus muttered.

Flynn grinned and threw his arm around Rufus' shoulder. "Aw come on buddy, might as well have something good come out of our teammates' rampant lustiness."

"Lots and lots of good could come of it," Wyatt crooned. Lucy reached up to stroke his jaw and hum her agreement.

"What time is it?" Rufus asked, looking anxiously around for a clock.

"9," Wyatt supplied.

"This is the longest day of my life," Rufus complained.

"What shall we do for the final countdown?" Flynn asked.

Wyatt leaned over to kiss Lucy.

"No! None of that!"

"I could just shoot one of them," Flynn offered. "Not fatally! Just, you know, something mildly incapacitating."

"I'm actually tempted to let you."

Wyatt and Lucy ignored them completely.

"Rufus, they haven't had any dinner yet. Why don't you get the lovebirds something to eat and supervise? I'll go get us a car and leave it in place for our escape."

"Why can't I go get the car? I'm the engineer."

"Have fun," Flynn patted him on the back and strode quickly out of the café.

Rufus went up to the counter to get some sandwiches, returning to find Lucy and Wyatt wrapped around each other, making out once again while the waitress glowered at them from behind the counter.

He sighed.

"To think I came back from the dead for this…"

To Be Continued…

Visiting museums is nice, isn't it? All the... cultural appreciation... ;)

Please share your thoughts on how this bizarre little adventure is progressing! Love it? Hate it? Confused? Guesses on what's going on? Where it's all going? I love hearing everyone's theories! Or even it if just made you smile. What a gift!