I wanted to squeeze this in before the holiday madness gets anymore nuts. Thanks for the lovely reception and kind comments when this fic appeared. I still just love where they were at the end of S1 :)

Thanks much to qwertygal for the beta on this. And she posted today too! Go check out that awesome fluff!

Happy holidays and new year if I don't resurface here with something else before then!


This is the time to remember

Cause it will not last forever


Lucy chewed on her lower lip and glanced at the clock over near the door yet again, trying to be as discreet about it as she possibly could. She'd already been far too obvious, checking her watch over and over. The wall clock seemed safer.

But it didn't matter where she looked; barely two minutes had ticked by since she'd last checked. Only two minutes of the roughly two hours and eleven minutes left to go before she saw Wyatt. And, really, she didn't know if the fact that it had only been two minutes was a good thing or a bad thing.

Because, how she was feeling about seeing him? Well, since they'd first texted those tentative plans a few weeks ago, her feelings had run the gamut from excited, to nervous, to dreading it, to just missing him so badly. Not to mention freaking hopeful. Which she hated herself for. Because he owed her nothing. And she truly expected nothing. Other than just having dinner. They'd been colleagues. That's it. Granted, they, and Rufus as well, had been thrown together in situations far more intense and personal than say, these colleagues at the meeting here with her, but still colleagues nonetheless. And even if that's all they ever were and all they'd ever be, she was still glad that she'd invited him out while she was in town.

But that damned hopefulness… Well, let's just say that she'd gotten up an hour earlier than she'd needed to. Her hair and makeup were done with a little more care, her legs a little smoother, and other… places a little more… neat… than they ever would have been for just meeting colleagues for a planning session.

Because, though Lucy really, truly, fully expected nothing to happen, on the off chance – on the off, tiny, miniscule, essentially nonexistent chance – that something did happen that could maybe, possibly lead to her skipping her return flight and spending the night at Wyatt's place, she'd never be able to say no to that. So she had to be ready.

Not that anything was going to happen. Not even close. She knew that, logically. That didn't mean her emotions were willing to play along.

She peered up at the clock again. Two more minutes.

God, she was pathetic.

At least earlier in the day she'd been able to push thoughts of this evening aside and throw herself into the meeting with gusto. Ignoring the Wyatt issue, she really did love the notion of this workshop they were putting together. It was probably overkill that they'd all trekked all the way to San Diego, since much of what they'd talked about could have been done over Skype – some participants hadn't been able to come and ended up logging in remotely anyway – but Lucy supposed that maybe it was a little more productive to have most of them there. They were putting together some really great sessions, with some really great speakers that they planned to invite. It would be an amazing networking opportunity for researchers in the community who were all working on similar things but never quite had enough time to make collaboration a priority absent some formal, external incentive like this. Not to mention that it would also be a wonderful experience for all the students – graduate and even some undergraduate – that they'd be able to fund to attend.

But as the initial post-lunch surge in productivity began to wane, and the mid-afternoon caffeine break not doing quite as much as anyone would have hoped to revive the efficiency level of the morning session, Lucy's mind began to wander a little more often.

To Wyatt.

Which was going to drive her crazy if she let it.

So she shook herself out of her anxious daze as best she could and forced herself to focus on the travel grant budgeting spreadsheet in front of her. Wyatt or not, she still had her job to do. And spacing out while leaving the others to plan the whole workshop wouldn't exactly reflect particularly well on her when it came time for her next tenure application when she needed letters of support from non-Stanford people like the ones sitting in the room with her right there.

Lucy managed to survive the remaining two hours, though just barely. She was pretty sure she'd ended up nervously bouncing her leg so much toward the end that the table had been shaking at one point.

When the head of the meeting finally called it a day, people lingered, side discussions springing up, talk of who had flights when, who was staying until the next morning, and would anyone be up for grabbing dinner, or at least drinks.

She felt like an absolute idiot when she stumbled through a stilted 'thanks-but-no-thanks' with no further elaboration when a few colleagues asked her if she had time for a drink. So rather than prolong that particular discomfort, Lucy just gathered up her bag and made a quick exit to the hallway, leaving her fellow historians behind. Before heading to her rental car in the parking lot, she ducked into a bathroom along the way.

Once inside, she set down her bag and glanced in the mirror.

She looked… Well, she looked like she'd just spent hours upon hours in a stressful meeting. On top of having woken up before dawn to drag herself to the airport to get smushed into a plane with a hundred other people like sardines.

With a sigh, Lucy ran her fingers through her hair, trying to simultaneously tame the bit of wayward frizz and fluff the waves that had gone a little limp.

Her makeup? There wasn't much she could do for her eye makeup at that point, though she did dig into her bag for something to touchup the dark circles. Hopefully it took the edge off the zombie look. She hadn't brought anything for her cheeks, so she tried her best to pink them up with some pinches to get the blood flowing. She added another layer of lip tint, and that was about as good as she could hope for.

Lucy regarded herself in the mirror once more.

She sighed. It didn't even matter. It was Wyatt. Just dinner with a friend. A colleague. It didn't matter what she looked like. Hell, he'd seen her in all sorts of dirty, tired, and generally bedraggled states. So it hardly mattered what she looked like now.

As satisfied as she was going to get, Lucy grabbed her bag once more and headed for the parking lot. Once in the car, she grabbed her phone and pulled up the address of the restaurant that Wyatt had suggested. Some local brewery. He'd never been, but had heard good things and it was less than ten minutes from the airport. So, setting Google Maps to guide her, she headed out.

Of course, there was traffic.

And then there was construction.

Which Google didn't know about, so Lucy ended up in the wrong lane for her exit.

So she ended up missing it.

Which made her late.

And made her have to figure out the next step while in bumper-to-bumper traffic in the middle of San Diego.

Which meant getting off the highway at a different exit, in a neighborhood she had no idea about, and all the while running later and later.

Which, of course, just exacerbated the nerves that would have been there anyway, the knots in her stomach getting tighter and tighter as the minutes on the clock ticked by.

(And ok, yes, she had to smile when the rerouted Google directions had her turning onto Logan Avenue, but she was still stressed about being late to meet the actual Logan.)

She debated calling him to let him know that she'd be late, but between that would have required futzing with her phone while trying to figure out where in the hell she was going, and she couldn't risk accidentally closing Google Maps and being left to her own devices.

Finally – finally – Lucy made her way to the right address, and breathed a sigh of relief when the brew pub came into view.

Of course, there was no parking to be seen.

Which set her back almost another ten minutes, roaming the nearby streets and then having to dig change from her wallet for the meter. She did, however, pull over and rattle off an apology text to Wyatt before hunting down her parking spot.

By the time made it into the restaurant, she was flustered and late and breathing a little heavy from jogging the few blocks from her car.

So, of course the hostess was useless and just stared blankly at her when Lucy tried to explain that she was meeting someone, and that he'd probably already been seated, and could she maybe just go look around to see if-

"Lucy," she heard faintly from across the bar. Then a cough, and a louder "Lucy!"

Her breath caught in her throat when she spotted Wyatt standing up from a table and trying to get her attention. She'd missed him.

But she couldn't just stand there, so she mumbled an annoyed "That's him" to the not-so-helpful hostess, shot Wyatt a "Hi!" and a wave, and then hurried across the restaurant.

For as much as Lucy would have liked to pull him into a tight hug and never let go, this wasn't pulling him from a death chamber after having been kidnapped herself. It wasn't him escaping from prison. It wasn't even him offering to go save her sister.

It was seeing a colleague she hadn't seen in a while.

So, just as she had earlier that day, Lucy held her bag with one hand, and reached out the other for a single-armed, shoulders-barely-touching, polite, impersonal, colleague hug.

Her one concession to what she really felt was, once she felt Wyatt's arm around her, to let her eyes fall closed as she admitted a hushed "It's good to see you."

She felt his chuckled response rumble through him just before he released her. "You too."

But when they parted, she was nearly speechless again. He looked good. Like perfectly-scruffy, obviously-been-working-out, classy-blue-button-down-with-sleeves-rolled-up-for-late-summer-and-in-the-exact-same-shade-as-his-eyes(-which-seemed-to-practically-glow-a-bright-blue-in-the-dim-lighting-of-the-pub) kind of good.

Which left her a tiny bit speechless.

And then feeling a lot bit stupid for being a tiny bit speechless.

It was at least a slight consolation when he didn't seem to know what to say either.

Lucy had just about gotten her brain to work again, with an apology for being late on the tip of her tongue when a waitress approached. The woman eyed them curiously and gestured for them to sit.

Wyatt laughed, but Lucy winced, feeling even more stupid for having to be told to sit and not just stand there like an idiot.

They were still getting situated when the waitress piped up, asking them both if she could get them anything to drink.

Lucy glanced down to see what Wyatt had gotten, but was surprised when she realized that he had been waiting for her for well over twenty minutes, with nothing in front of him but a glass of water. "You didn't get something already?" she asked, frowning.

With a nonchalant shrug, Wyatt just shook his head with a smile. "Figured I'd wait for you."

"Ugh," Lucy groaned, feeling terrible that he'd been there alone, waiting. "But I'm late. There was traffic, and then construction, and- You didn't have to wait."

"Lucy. Really," he assured her, "it's ok."

But it wasn't. Not really. Lucy grimaced. "Yeah, but-"

"So did either of you want anything?" the waitress interrupted.

Lucy winced all over again. Talk about feeling like an idiot. "Sorry," she apologized to the waitress. "Yes, just give me one second," she said, grabbing one of the beer lists from the table top. She scanned the massive list of draughts, and, flustered, urged Wyatt to go first.

She could hear him order some sort of IPA rather quickly, so she rushed to zero in on anything that looked interesting, so neither the waitress nor Wyatt had to wait for her any longer. "Um, could I have a Sour Wench Blackberry Ale, please?"

The waitress nodded and replied, "I'll get those right out for you two while you have a look at the menu," before disappearing as suddenly as she arrived.

Lucy took a deep breath, relieved to finally be just… sitting after the crazy drive to get there and then… whatever that was when she'd gotten to the table.

Of course, as soon as she glanced over at Wyatt, she was greeted with a wicked smirk. Not unlike that very first time they'd met.

She looked back in confusion, not sure what had prompted the look.

He lifted an eyebrow before teasing, "A… 'wench'?"

Lucy felt her cheeks warm; of course he'd pick up on that. She rolled her eyes, defending herself with a simple, "It sounded good."

That earned her a laugh from Wyatt, and she had to giggle a little in return. Not all that different from interactions they used to have. Or at the least the ones that hadn't involved time travel and guns and other forms of mortal danger.

But then… nothing. He didn't say anything, and she didn't know what to say. He just kind of… looked at her, and as much as she didn't mind looking at him, she didn't feel she could actually do that, so she stupidly spat out the first thing that she could dredge up that resembled reasonable conversation. "What are you even doing here?" she asked, wondering aloud what she'd been curious about since she'd first texted him about her trip.

Which earned her the teasing eyebrow again. "Uh, you invited me?"

"No, I know," Lucy huffed defensively before turning more serious. "But… didn't you say you'd get a new mission? Or deployment? Or whatever?" she asked, then admitted, "I didn't think you'd actually be here. At Pendleton."

Yet another smirk. "So you only invited me because you thought I wouldn't be able to come?" Wyatt ribbed.

"No, I-" Lucy spluttered, embarrassed exasperation growing. "I just didn't think you'd be around," she rephrased. I'm glad you are," she added honestly, trying to tame the apparent runaway teasing. "It's good to see you," she emphasized again.

It seemed to do the trick, because right away, Wyatt was back to quietly watching her before giving a slight nod and repeating, "You too."

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath. If it wasn't the mocking banter, it was this. This disquieting, too-serious… intensity. She couldn't quite figure out what to make of either of them.

Desperate for some sort of middle ground, she forced out a bland pleasantry. "Well, how are you? Since you are still here? Why are you still here?" she then heard herself asking, still curious about why he wasn't out on another mission already. "Aren't you… good? Isn't that why we- …got you?"

"I, uh- 'good'?" he started, then rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Pretty sure I have a lot of superiors who would disagree with that."

Lucy shot him a bit of an exasperated glare at the self-deprecation and false modesty.

"Ok, yeah, I guess I'm good. Whatever that means," he admitted, shaking his head and looking down into his glass. With a sigh, he went on to explain, "I missed the guys getting shipped out for a big op by a month or so." He shrugged with another slight shake of his head. "They could put me on something more… routine, but then if I'm already involved in that when something else big comes up-"

"-then they wasted their valuable reckless hothead," Lucy surmised with a smirk, finally able to get in a little gentle taunting of her own.

"Exactly," Wyatt confirmed with a grin. "So I cool my heels here for a while. Which means I got to see you," he added, his grin turning more solemn.

Her heart thudding a little faster than it had been, Lucy swallowed hard at his statement. And they were right back to the awkward silence yet again.

The waitress, bless her little heart (and her timing) chose that exact moment to arrive with their drinks, and Lucy was never more grateful for the oddly purple beer that was placed in front of her. "Thank you," she chirped.

Wyatt reached for his glass and held it up in her direction. "To… whatever your meeting is that got you down here."

Lucy managed a wan smile, not really sure what she was currently feeling about the meeting that had brought her to that moment, in that brewery, with Wyatt. Still, she lifted her drink to his. "Cheers."

Once they'd both had the requisite tastes of their drinks, Wyatt set his back down, a thoughtful look on his face. "…what is your meeting?" he finally asked. "It's still summer. Ish. What professor-y stuff are you doing down here, now?"

"Oh, it's just for this workshop in the fall," Lucy explained. "We're just planning. There's a few people from my department that could have done it, but they agreed to re-evaluate my tenure package after another year, so I have to do everything humanly possible to look good on paper this time," she added with a sigh. "So I get to be our department's rep on the planning committee."

Then she realized, for as awkward as certain moments of their night were proving to be, she already knew that she'd do it again in a heartbeat. And that she hadn't actually told him she'd be back… "I'll be here again… I don't know, I think in another month?" she admitted tentatively. "For another one of these? Then we have the actual workshop for a few days in November. And then sort of a post-mortem day a few weeks after that."

If Wyatt was entertaining any thoughts of possibly seeing her again on those trips, he didn't let on, instead zeroing in on the work involved. "Plus all the teaching?" he asked, wincing.

"Yeah. It's a lot," Lucy conceded. "But kind of a good crazy, you know?"

"As opposed to… ya know," Wyatt said, rolling his eyes, not able to say it given the crowds around them, but very clearly implying the insanity of their time travel escapades.

Which also implied that the time travel flavor of crazy had been a 'bad crazy'. And for as much as she probably should have considered that to be true, Lucy couldn't really bring herself to think of it that way, considering that it was the only way she'd have ever met Wyatt.

"No," she contradicted immediately. "I mean… kind of," she then amended, because there was no avoiding the fact that there had been downsides. "But it wasn't all bad," she pointed out, even aside from meeting Wyatt, which obviously she couldn't say to him. They got to travel through time. "I mean- what we got to do? It's really pretty amazing."

Wyatt gave a soft snort, almost in awe, as he agreed, "No shit." But after a moment of both of them reflecting back on that, he spoke up once more, but with a change in topic. "How's Amy?" he asked.

Lucy couldn't help but smile at the mention of her sister. "Good," she replied, still grinning. At least until she recalled the last time she'd seen Wyatt. Amy's podcast party. Where he'd just… left.

Not that she blamed him; she herself had been rather wrapped up in helping Amy organized the event. But it had meant that she hadn't really gotten to say goodbye. Or to tell him how grateful she'd been.

With a sobered deep breath, Lucy fixed her gaze on him. "You know, I- You left so fast, that last night," she rephrased quietly. "I never got to thank you, Wyatt. For helping get her back."

He brushed her off. "No need," he said, shaking his head before lifting his glass to down another slug of beer.

But Lucy wasn't going to let him brush it off that easily. "No, really," she insisted. "I know it… wasn't any easier than any other trip. I really appr-"

"Lucy," he cut her off, his tone serious as he set his drink down. "There was no way I wasn't going to help."

Her breath caught in her throat yet again, his wide-eyed gaze suddenly almost too intense.

"Did you need a few more minutes," their waitress cut in, "or are you ready to order?"

Lucy blinked hard, shaking her head. Right. The menu. "Oh, sorry, uh-"

But Wyatt, seemingly unaffected, just calmly requested, "Just another minute, please." Then, once the waitress departed, he nodded over at Lucy. "What are you thinking?"

She almost laughed. What she was thinking? She was thinking about how much she wished things were… different between them.

But he meant dinner.

So Lucy glanced down, skimming the descriptions quickly. Everything sounded great, and were she with Amy, it was the kind of place where her sister would have coaxed her into trying something off-beat and unique. But… in all honesty, Lucy just kind of wanted a burger.

"Probably just a cheeseburger," she admitted sheepishly.

"Same," Wyatt said, looking a bit surprised. "They're supposed to be pretty good."

He was able to catch the waitress' attention and wave her back over.

Orders placed, it left them at a bit of an impasse once again after the waitress walked away. So Lucy was grateful when Wyatt merely nodded over at her beer, asking, "How is that? It's really… purple," he added with a bit of a wince.

"It's good," Lucy protested defensively. And were it someone else there with her – Amy, a friend from her department, even maybe Rufus – she'd offer a taste, no hesitation. But… were she and Wyatt really in a glass-sharing kind of place? It's not like they were being forced to share a canteen or ladle of water out of necessity. Here, at a bar, wasn't it too… casual and familiar? But… "…do you want to try it?" she offered anyway.

She wanted to take it back as soon as she said it; Wyatt's eyebrows rocketed up in surprise right away. But, to Lucy's surprise, just as quickly, he schooled his expression back to something neutral and accepted with a nod. "…uh, yeah. Sure."

So what could she do but nudge her pint over in his direction?

He reached for the drink and took a sizeable sip, then slide it back over to her with an unreadable expression.

"So?" Lucy prompted playfully.

"It's…" Wyatt drew out, finally conceding, "actually a lot better than I thought it would be. I like it."

Lucy grinned triumphantly, taking her own sip of the purple brew.

That out of the way, Wyatt brought the conversation back to their shared history. "So how's Rufus? You see him and Jiya much?"

"They're good," Lucy exclaimed, then pulled back a bit, feeling a tad guilty. "I mean, um, I've only seen them… twice? Three times? I wish it was more," she sighed, "but we're all busy. They're… doing who knows what for Mason now. And I'm pretty sure they'll move in together soon. Sounds like Rufus practically lives at her place anyway."

"Yeah," Wyatt said with a nod, "I've seen some things on Facebook. That's great," he added, smiling. "He's a good guy. They're good for each other."

"Yeah, it's nice," Lucy had to agree, in spite of the twinge of jealousy that always gnawed when it came to seeing what her friends' relationship had blossomed into.

With that, she watched as Wyatt took another drink of his own beer, looking away across the bar as he set the glass back down. He cleared his throat, then asked casually, "How 'bout you? Getting out there at all?"

Well, that's not what she would have expected from him…

Hearing that, Lucy was never more grateful for the dim lighting of the bar given that was entirely sure that she blushed fire-engine red before Wyatt even finished his question. Why did he want to know?

Just making conversation, she scolded herself before she could get carried away with any other possible explanations. He was just trying to avoid any more awkward silences, since she sure as hell wasn't doing anything to ameliorate those…

But… dating? Lucy dropped her gaze self-consciously; she couldn't very well admit that this was the closest she'd come to a date in a long time.

And that the reason for that was because he was the only person she really wanted a date with.

"Oh, no…" she stammered, flustered and grappling with trying to come up with something that didn't make her sound astoundingly pathetic. "I've…" she trailed off, mentally debating mentioning the okcupid profile that Amy had insisted on, considering it would at least make her look normal-ish, like she was at least trying… But Lucy ended up keeping that to herself. Silly as it might have been, the last thing she wanted – if there was even the slightest chance of something ever happening between them – was for Wyatt to think she was out there scouring the internet for someone that wasn't him.

So she hurriedly switched gears, opting for a different flavor of pathetic, seeing as it was at least one she was more comfortable discussing with Wyatt. "…I've been a giant nerd all summer. Well, always," Lucy joked, finally looking back up at Wyatt as she rolled her eyes in self-deprecation, "but even more. I have to teach. History that I don't know," she admitted, punctuating it with a soft snort of disbelief as the nerves induced by Wyatt's dating questions gave way to the nerves she'd been feeling all summer in anticipation of her impending return to teaching. At least those were nerves that she could talk about with him.

"Can you imagine – me now going into a classroom and trying to tell these kids that John Wilkes Booth was actually the one to kill Lincoln?" she hissed across the table, keeping her voice low. "Or that there were no major problems the day Armstrong walked on the moon? I've been reading textbooks for months, just trying to make sure I know enough that I don't come off as insane because I'm talking about something that never happened now."

Wyatt chuckled in reply, though his grin quickly faded into a pensive frown. "Is there really that much that's different?" he asked. "Other than the big stuff we saw?"

Lucy let out a shaky breath, exceedingly grateful that Wyatt had latched on to the new conversational angle. Otherwise she'd have felt obligated to reciprocate and politely inquire about whether he was dating or not. Which she really just didn't want to know. If he was… well, ignorance is bliss. Even worse would have been awkwardly leading them down a path that somehow led to a mention of Jessica, which… Well, he'd mentioned moving on from the past once, but that same conversation was also the one that had held the mention of possibilities, which had obviously turned out to mean absolutely nothing, so…

Either way, Lucy was for more comfortable with the conversation heading back in the history direction. "Not a ton," she replied, "but… enough. Even some little things snowballed so there were changes later that were still effects of other stuff from earlier."

Wyatt nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he remained silent for a second. "You think there was ever a way around that?" he eventually wondered aloud. "I mean, ok, no, Flynn shooting guys like Lincoln and Benedict Arnold… That was always gonna mess things up, but like, what if someone just sort of… went… some time… and just… sat there and watched stuff happen?" he postulated. "Would that still have changed stuff?"

"I don't know," Lucy sighed. "You know, sometimes I wish we could have done that," she admitted. "Every time, there was …something. Usually something terrifying." She caught Wyatt's eye for a split second there, and they shared a grin before Lucy sobered again and continued. "Even just getting Amy, so much was at stake. It would have been nice to just… go. Like… just be in the crowd at a shuttle launch or something. You know? Go see one of your Bond movies in the theatre the day it came out," she added, for Wyatt's sake.

He laughed in return. "Right?" he agreed, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "Big sports games. Concerts. Woodstock."

That suggestion caught Lucy off-guard. Before she could stop it, a whisper of an image of Wyatt, naked and fit, possibly even wet in the rain, amongst the free-spirited crowds of Woodstock, flitted through her mind.

Hardly what she needed to be thinking about. Not when she was back to actually managing to have a normal conversation. Or at least as normal as it could really get between them, considering that the bulk of what they had in common that they even could talk about was time travel. Lucy quickly shook off the wayward mental image and forced herself to focus.

"I guess that's what they would have done when testing the lifeboat at first, right?" she said with a shrug. "Not Woodstock, but just going… some time and not going anything?"

"I guess," Wyatt agreed. Then, after a beat, he smirked over in her direction, and suggested, "You should ask. See if Mason would ever let you just… go see something."

Lucy couldn't help but smile at the notion, thinking wistfully of the million and one things she'd love to be able to witness. But it was a bittersweet wistfulness, considering that even if she did get to try something like that, it likely would be on her own. She forced a grin over toward Wyatt and pointed out, "I don't know. Even if he said yes," she teased, "it wouldn't be the same without Flynn holding a gun to my head and you having to get me out of it."

Wyatt chuckled at that. "I think you could consider that a good thing," he replied.

Which, yes, Lucy certainly realized. The lack of Flynn and guns would be good, but… she just deflected with a non-committal shrug. She'd meant it mostly jokingly, but in truth, she'd done it once for the Lindberg trip, and it just hadn't been the same without Wyatt. It wouldn't be the same without him, if she ever got to jump again.

Thankfully, their dinners arrived just then, giving Lucy another out before her mind ventured too much further back into the 'pining-for-Wyatt' territory that it had been flirting with all day.

Also thankfully, Lucy managed to stay on safe mental and conversational ground as they made their way through their meals. She filled Wyatt in on a bit more about having Amy back, and what Amy was like in general, since he'd never ended up really interacting with her at the launch party. They both lamented again about not having kept up with Rufus enough since the end of the missions with Mason. Wyatt also asked more about the upcoming semester, leading Lucy to delve a little deeper into her worries about teaching again and her last shot at tenure. Of course, he managed to both assure her that she'd be great and have her doubling over laughing when he regaled her with his own recent forays into teaching, albeit informal teaching.

Apparently, he was putting what he'd learned from her on missions to good use by absolutely freaking out the younger soldiers he'd been tasked with mentoring. Turned out that whenever there had been some serendipitously-timed discussions over US military tactics in Germany in World War II, the Alamo, or the American Revolution, Wyatt's oddly perceptive and detailed level of knowledge of certain things had unnerved the younger kids, and, after telling them (in jest) that such stuff should be common knowledge, had them all panicking and thinking they'd need that level of historical awareness if they planned to aim for Delta Force someday.

Lucy was still giggling at that over the remnant French fries on her plate when their waitress reappeared, asking, "Anyone have room for dessert? Coffee?"

She cared little about the food or coffee; Lucy just wanted more time with Wyatt. But a quick glance at her watch told her that she really needed to leave for her flight soon. Deflated, she lamented, "I should actually get to the airport…"

Of course, he just gave a good-natured smile and told the waitress, very matter of fact, "No dessert then."

"Just the check, please," Lucy chimed in, still reluctant for the evening to end, but knowing that she had a plane waiting.

And a rental car, she realized. It wouldn't take that long to return, but she had indeed managed to forget about those extra ten or fifteen minutes that she hadn't needed when she'd called a cab at home that morning.

She did a quick mental calculation; she'd be fine, but after alcohol with dinner, plus the water to ensure said alcohol didn't hit too hard, she was going to need to pee. And as much as she didn't like sacrificing a few extra minutes with Wyatt, she also didn't love the idea of still standing in a line at the airport restroom while they boarded her flight.

With the waitress gone to get their check, Lucy stood up, reluctant. "I'll be right back," she murmured. "Bathroom," she added as a quick explanation, before Wyatt could ask. And she headed off with a soft chuckle to herself. She'd never been one to love announcing that to dates (not that Wyatt was a date…), but in this case, considering he'd already witnessed her having to duck behind a tree or shrub in the middle of nowhere many times over, it wasn't as awkward as it could have been.

Still, awkward or not, she didn't like wasting any time that could have been spent with Wyatt, so she hurried off to the restroom as quickly as she could.


Wyatt couldn't help but watch Lucy as she walked away across the restaurant. She... was amazing.

At that thought, he snorted inwardly and forced himself to tear his gaze away from where she was ducking into the hallway leading to the restrooms.

Of course Lucy Preston was amazing. What, had he somehow been deluded enough to think that she wouldn't be? That she'd somehow be bland and boring, just because it was a few months later and they weren't flitting through time anymore?

And not only was she amazing… she looked amazing too. She'd always been beautiful to him, and she'd managed to look so… right in pretty much everything, from any time period. But between the jumps, things had been chaotic. Not to mention rainy winter in San Francisco. Which meant, as far as regular clothes had gone, he'd pretty much only seen her in pretty plain jeans or pants, sweaters or professor-y tops, and boring boots or sneakers. But tonight? Late summer in San Diego? Suffice it to say that when he'd seen her come in the door, his jaw had dropped a little, and it had taken a moment for him to register that he should get up and signal to her instead of just staring like an idiot. It was just that the abstract, flower-print-looking flowy skirt to her knees and silky, gauzy sleeveless blouse-thing with the buttons and the lace, and those pretty ballet-looking shoes… It was somehow softer, and prettier, than he had ever seen her dress before, and it had kind of left him dumbfounded at first.

Not that he wasn't always when it came to Lucy…

Wyatt let out a soft sigh. It had been months, and nothing had changed. Watching her walk off to that bathroom felt no different than watching her head off to her mother's place before they'd gone back to save Amy. Both times, he'd been struck by how far he'd fallen for her, only to be facing not seeing her again. The only difference? That first time, he was only realizing the depth of his feelings. This time? Just confirming what he really already knew, no matter how reluctant he was to admit it to himself.

Another scoff slipped out as he shook his head. It still didn't matter how he felt.

Did it?

Wyatt frowned. It didn't. It was crazy to be thinking that, even if Lucy did feel the same way (she didn't…), they could somehow make something work.

Right?

It was stupid, but, god, the longer they'd sat there in that restaurant, the more he was starting to wonder if maybe-

"Here you go," declared their waitress, suddenly having reappeared to slide the little check holder on the table.

Wyatt shook himself out of his stupor with a cough. "Hang on," he said, reaching for his pocket. Giving the bill a cursory glance to make sure nothing was wildly amiss, he tugged a credit card from his wallet and handed everything back to the waitress right away. "Here. Thanks."

He chuckled as the waitress walked off. He'd hear about that from Lucy when she got back; he and Rufus had both been on the receiving end of more than one tipsy lecture from her when either of them had sprung for the whole tab – including Lucy's share – any of the times they'd all let off a little steam at a bar after a mission. She might not be a 'fancy delta soldier person or a physics-y science brain person', but she can take care of herself, thank you very much.

But call him old-fashioned, or just a backwards Texas hick; Wyatt certainly wasn't going to let her pay when it was just the two of them. Even if it wasn't a date. Which it wasn't.

The waitress returned then, slipping his card and the receipts back onto the edge of the table. He snagged them, did the quick math to add a tip, and moved to sign. But just as Wyatt was scribbling his name, his prediction proved true.

"Wait, you pai-" Lucy blurted out in protest. "No," she admonished, collapsing back down into her chair, "I invited you."

Wyatt smirked as he finished with the pen. Suppressing a smile, he tucked his credit card back into his wallet and shoved the wallet back in his pocket. Pretty much exactly as he'd expected. And, he realized, looking back up at her, the disapproving pout she wore as she glared at him was even more endearing than he would have thought.

"My turf, my treat," he countered with a shrug. And then, ever so reluctantly, he pulled himself to his feet. She had to leave, and he wouldn't let himself be responsible for her missing her flight home.

Lucy protested again, not letting it go so easily. "Wyatt…" she said, then her tone softened as she stood up beside him. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

He didn't mean to catch her gaze just then, but once he did, all Wyatt could do was admit the gods-honest truth. "My pleasure," he admitted sincerely. "Ma'am."

Maybe it was Wyatt's imagination running away with him in the dim light of the restaurant's ambiance, but he couldn't help but think that, along with the little smile that the 'ma'am' had elicited, Lucy's face flushed ever so slightly, her cheeks tinged a pretty pink for a moment as they both remained there, gazes locked, neither moving.

He was transfixed.

Maybe…

It took someone bumping into him on their way to the bathroom to shake Wyatt out of it.

She had to leave. Nothing was happening.

So he nudged her gently toward the door with a muttered "C'mon", guiding her with his hand at the small of her back until they reached the sidewalk outside.

Which was when her earlier words echoed in his head. "You said traffic before?" Wyatt said suddenly, confused. "In a cab? Do you need a ride to the airport?" he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth ever more hastily as his pulse involuntarily quickened at the prospect of spending an extra ten minutes with her. "I can-"

"Oh, no," Lucy cut him off in a hurry, before softening her tone, almost apologetic. "I- I have a rental," she stammered. "It was actually cheaper than multiple taxis or Ubers would have been."

Wyatt nodded, hating both that he couldn't drive her, and the fact that he was disappointed that he couldn't drive her. "Good deal," he managed to force out. "Where'd you park?"

Lucy started to say something, then paused, frowned, and pulled her phone from her bag. Wyatt had to smile; he could just make out the Google Maps app that she pulled up. It was kind of nice to see that, for all her smarts, she had the same little human shortcomings as everyone else. Like forgetting where she parked.

Eventually, she looked up and waved noncommittally down the block, "I'm just over there, you don't-"

"No big deal," Wyatt assured her, feeling… almost unable to do anything but stay by her side and walk her to her car.

But, like at dinner, during those awkward lulls, Wyatt just couldn't freakin' think of anything to say.

So they walked in silence, but… Jeez, Wyatt could swear that there was something, some… something, and he just couldn't help but wonder if maybe-

"This is me," Lucy piped up suddenly, breaking that silence. She slowed to a stop in front of some nondescript white sedan that flashed its lights when she tested the keys she was clutching. And then looked up at him with a small smile and a shrug. "Thanks for coming out. It was really nice to see you again."

Wyatt was helpless to do anything but just give her a genuine smile right back. "You too. Ma'am," he added, his smile morphing into a cheeky smirk.

Just as he'd expected, Lucy scoffed and rolled her eyes at the remark.

But then… Then he wasn't exactly sure what happened.

Much like back at Mason, that day before going to save Amy, they just sort of… ended up in each other's arms. And it felt… just as wonderful as it had that day. This wasn't the polite, half-hug/half-back patting when she'd arrived at the bar.

This was Lucy. Wrapped around him, in his embrace, fitting perfectly where she was tucked against him. Wyatt couldn't help but let his eyes slip closed as he breathed her in. God, it felt so right, her there, with him, and he so wished that they were in some alternate universe, some alternate timeline, where the two of them actually made sense and she felt the same as he did.

When it got to be just a little too long, standing there like that, Wyatt reluctantly began to pull away.

Because they didn't make sense.

But Lucy didn't go very far. Her hands lingered on his arms as they broke apart, and she gazed up at him looking so damn beautiful, and it would have been so easy to just reach for her again, sliding his hand around her waist to pull her in, maybe press a ki-

Wyatt felt a buzz against his arm and pulled it away reflexively.

So much for that. Moment over. Which was better anyway…

It took a second after that, but eventually it registered for him that Lucy was still clutching her phone after having pulled it out to check the map for where she'd parked her car. And that she'd received a text alert.

She winced up at him ruefully and tapped at the screen. Then, with a shaky laugh, she held up the screen for him. "Gate change. 4 instead of 8. Important news."

But she didn't make any other move. Not away from him anyway, and she was still looking up at him…

And… maybe the moment wasn't over? Another shaky breath caught in Wyatt's throat. Maybe if-

Lucy jumped again then, obviously startled. And, rattled himself, Wyatt shook himself from his daze to see that the screen of Lucy's phone had once again lit up in her hand.

"Back to gate 8?" he joked softly, inching the tiniest bit closer to her, willing the moment to linger just a little bit longer.

She shot him an apologetic grin, then glanced down to read the notification. "Amy," she corrected simply, with a little smile. "She's picking me up. Don't have to get a cab after all."

Amy.

One little, three-letter name, and Wyatt was right back to that podcast party in San Francisco. Amy. And Lucy. And the trendy bar and the chic clothes and the city life and the intellectual friends and the freaking avocado in every bit of fancy food. The life that he didn't fit in. Lucy's life.

That was Lucy's life.

Not ending up with him pawing her in the middle of a dingy sidewalk, after lame burgers and beer, in front of some cheap rental Kia.

The moment may not have been gone after the text about the airport gate change, but it surely was after hearing from Amy.

Wyatt backed off, immediately. He sighed, looking down as if to ensure that the two steps he'd taken away from Lucy had indeed put a reasonable amount of space between then. Then he looked back up at her, defeated, and reminded her with a nod in the general direction of the airport, "Better go, or you won't be on the flight she's waiting for."

For a nanosecond, he thought he could make out the barest hint of wounded confusion on Lucy's face, eliciting a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

But he must have imagined her expression; almost immediately she was acknowledging his comment with a wide smile and reaching for the car door. "Right. Well, thanks again for dinner."

"You're welcome," he replied, taking yet another step back.

She waited a beat, but the next thing Wyatt knew, Lucy was pointing out, "I owe you now." Which of course was ridiculous, and he was just about to tell her just that, when she reminded him of something that hadn't quite registered in his brain earlier in the evening. "I have to come back in a few weeks," she said. "I can pay then."

Wyatt froze.

"If you'd want… to do something again," Lucy then hedged, hesitance evident.

He should have said no. He should have lied about a commitment. He should have said he'd be deployed by then. He should have deflected, declined, demurred or any other 'd' word that meant 'hell no, I can't torture myself like this again'.

But he didn't.

He was a masochist. A glutton for punishment. God damn the hold she had on him, because before he could stop himself, Wyatt felt the eager words tumbling from his mouth as if he had no reservations whatsoever. "If I'm here, you got it," he assured her. "Let me know."

"Ok," she said, flashing another soft smile. "Bye."

And with that, she swung the car's door open, as if to get in.

For his part, Wyatt stepped back up onto the curb, kicking himself for… well, for basically everything he'd done since first finding that text from her. He'd just turned away when he heard her call after him, her voice a little shaky, if he wasn't mistaken.

" …Wyatt?"

He glanced back, instinctively concerned.

Jesus Christ, she was doing that nervous thing she did, biting at her lip. All he wanted was to be the one biting it for her. Fuck.

"Be safe," she finally said, her voice quiet, but still enough to drag him from that particular fantasy. "If they do send you… wherever," she added.

And of course she was worried about him. Because that's the kind of person she was. Which was too damn good for the likes of him. Wyatt swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

That was that. She gave one more little nod of acknowledgment, and then she climbed into the car.

Safe? Wyatt let out a long shaky breath. Safe? A wry laugh escaped at that as he watched her drive off.

It wasn't the kind of safe she'd meant, but hell, his heart, at least, would be safer just about anywhere else they could possibly send him, as long as it was far, far away from her and the goddamned feelings that he just couldn't shake.

TBC…


In case anyone is wondering, I had them go to the Ballast Point Brewing in Little Italy of San Diego. Like Wyatt, I've never been but have heard good things. Plus I've had great blackberry sour in other places. It is indeed purple! :)