Altering Lives

Summary: Whether by choice or by fate, Lucy and Wyatt always find each other, no matter the timeline.

Disclaimer: I don't own Timeless or any other original work (TV, film, book or other) referenced in these one shots.

Pairing: Wyatt/Lucy, some Jiya/Rufus

Rated: T

Warnings: A series of one shots about our favorite time traveling couple. Some will be only slightly AU, some set in a completely different universe to the series. Some may be teeth rottingly fluffy, some will be racy. You have been warned. ;)

Unbetaed.

Wyatt's jealousy at Fleming's flirting is something I wanted to explore a little further for a while now. And what if Lucy had taken things a little further than on the show?

There is a paraphrase of a line from Gilmore Girls in here. Oh, and a minuscule Doctor Who quote if you can spot it.

To Once Upon A Whim: I'm really glad you liked it so much. The initial confusion was intended for the "big" reveal, but I was worried I had been way too vague. I hoped it would work out okay.
I've never watched West Wing, but now you got me kinda hooked on the story you spun from my little one-shot. I don't think I'd be the best to write it. I'm not good with slow burn stories and I know next to nothing about how American politics work; what does a president even do all day when he/she is not smiling prettily into a camera to give a speech? I'm also not currently writing long stories, because I started this series of one-shots to get of a multi-chapter project in the Arrowverse for which I had really developed a bad case of writer's block. All that is not to say I won't ever consider writing out your idea, but I'm not sure and it wouldn't be for a while. If you or someone else wanted to take a swing at it in the meantime, I'd be more than happy to read it.

Chapter 6: Bond Girl (or The Hero Gets The Girl, Sort Of…)

"I can't believe we pulled this off," Lucy admitted as she and Wyatt made their way to the front of the cottage. Down the road, she could see the car approaching that would take Ian Fleming and von Braun to safe passage out of Germany. She cast a glance at her companion, whom she owed in large part her success - or at the very least - her not being a total failure at undercover work to. "Thanks for getting me over the hump."

"Yeah, well, don't get all soft on me. Flynn still got a nuke," Wyatt huffed back irritably.

Lucy blinked. She knew their mission hadn't been a total success, but neither had it turned into an all out catastrophe like the Hindenburg. Yet Wyatt had gone back to being irritable and curt with everyone - or at least with her. Gone was the gentle concern she'd been offered when she had been about to infiltrate a Nazi party. Then, he'd come to see if she was well enough, calm enough, and had patiently helped her focus on what was important. Now, he seemed to have pulled up a new wall between them, any progress she'd thought they'd made, any camaraderie she'd felt build between them gone up in smoke.

Lucy couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what had happened between then and now. He'd supported her with Ian, despite his agreement that von Braun needed to pay for his crimes. He'd been impressed with how she'd identified the priest hole, if only because it had thrown him back to his much-loved Bond movies. But as they left the immediate danger behind them and the adrenaline passed from their systems, she had felt the distance between them grow again, perhaps greater than it had been before. She'd thought perhaps it was due to Wyatt's discontent at von Braun getting off without punishment, but that alone couldn't explain it when he'd ultimately, if begrudgingly, agreed with her that it was necessary for the future of the United States. So when he quickened his pace to reach Rufus and Fleming, as if he couldn't get away from her fast enough, she cast him another wary glance. With a small sigh of frustration, she resigned herself to this new old indifference and joined them.

They watched von Braun approach the car, and Ian turned to her.

"I hope you're right about this," he sighed.

"We are," she assured him gently. Wyatt looked at her, and Lucy realized perhaps she should have chosen her words more carefully. She knew he wasn't fully on board with letting the scientist go. Lucy swallowed thickly, almost expecting their soldier to protest, but Wyatt only continued to look at her gravely. The intensity of his eyes made her somewhat uncomfortable. Thankfully, Ian chose that moment to bid them farewell.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye," he offered to the team, before he turned specifically to her. "Though perhaps not for you."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. He had tried to flirt with her repeatedly during this mission, though how he could handle the excitement of espionage, sabotage, Nazi hunting and think of romancing her at the same time, she would never understand. And though she wasn't really interested - quite aside from the literal time difference between them, he was a bit too much of a womanizer for her taste, particularly considering the often overt sexist tendencies of his books - she couldn't deny that having James Bond hit on her was a little exciting. Intriguing. His character's reputation sparked her curiosity. So when Ian turned to face her completely, his face and body language openly interested, she too turned toward him.

"I might find myself stateside when this is all over," he suggested softly as he inched a little closer.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy noticed Wyatt's exaggerated eye roll, his entire head snapping upward and away in exasperation, but she ignored him. No one could deny that Ian was smooth. His words went down like honey, and the implication, fueled by her knowledge of the books and all of Bond's amorous adventures, sent just the slightest of shivers down Lucy's spine.

"I'm sure you will," she offered. An opening that baited him to see where he could take this.

Never one to disappoint a lady, Ian leaned forward, close to her face, his eyes drifting to her ruby red lips.

"Will you be waiting?" He asked confidently. He didn't kiss her though, not yet. She could tell he wanted her to take the last step. For her to be seduced to want him, and act on it. Lucy considered him for a moment. He was a little too sure of his conquest, and yet this was an opportunity that wouldn't present itself again. A perfect opportunity, both to satisfy her growing curiosity and turn the tables on Ian - and whatever he made of it in his books or his memoirs or only in the privacy of his own mind, she would be the one he'd never forget. He'd never forget that she was the one who walked away.

So she surged forward, her lips quick and teasing on his mouth. She took full advantage of his surprised gasp at the boldness of her tongue and slipped it into his mouth, thoroughly enjoying her exploration. Ian was a good kisser, she had to admit. Very good. Sometimes giving, sometimes challenging, enjoying their kiss to the fullest and offering all that he had to make sure that she did too. Lucy didn't know how much time passed, but judging by Rufus' awkward clearing of his throat and Wyatt's muttered "Breathe!... And breathe!" she was sure it was long enough - and hot enough - to have well and truly turned Ian's head. So she eased the passion of their kiss until she was ready to let him go completely. Pulling back, but keeping their faces close together, she took a second to enjoy the dazed look on his face.

"Definitely not."

Ian's eyes cleared suddenly, and he chuckled.

"For a final farewell that was one hell of a goodbye kiss, Lucy," he protested. Maybe he hoped she might be joking.

"Girls just want to have fun, Ian, and I… I just wanted to know what it would be like."

The spy bit his lip, expression halfway between a grin and a pout. It looked cute on him, but Lucy wasn't the kind to fall for the puppy dog eyes. She smirked right back at him, until he gave up and finally walked toward the car. At the last moment, though, he turned back to her once more.

"Well, never say never?" He called back to her amusement.

"Again!" Wyatt couldn't help but shout, confusing Ian and making Rufus and Lucy chuckle at his child-like enthusiasm.

"Seriously," she teased him as Rufus threw Wyatt a look. At her soft taunt, Wyatt unexpectedly huffed and turned away from her, practically ordering them back to the Lifeboat.

His sour mood continued on their way back, the rough trip in the time machine certainly not helping it any. Not that she could blame him; she hated these trips at least as much. The Lifeboat was too cramped and the belts always cut into her shoulders as their bumpy ride tried to throw her every which way. She was grateful Wyatt had fastened her in, despite his inexplicable irritation, though in his quick efficiency he had seemed to take less care than he usually did with her. The belts were a little too tight as a result, but Lucy dared not complain, worried that she might set him off somehow.

Everyone was already lined up in front of the landing bay when they arrived. This particular mission back to Nazi Germany seemed to have everyone on edge and ready to put it ad acta, so the time team had to give their report practically the moment they opened the hatch, bombarded as they were with questions.

"-when we escaped, we handed von Braun over to the allies," Lucy explained on their way to the changing rooms, Agent Christopher and Mason hot on their heels. Needless to say that between everything, she was a little irritated at the tech mogul's disbelieving snort. "What?!"

"W-well, you've just described beat by beat the plot of Weapon of Choice," Mason explained.

"What's Weapon of Choice?" Rufus asked for all of them, assuring himself with a glance at his friends that they were indeed equally confused.

"The Bond movie."

"No such movie," Wyatt interjected, his voice almost normal compared to before. Lucy wanted to scream. The first thing he said since they'd returned and it had to be about stupid James Bond.

"Course there is; it's the one in the castle with the rockets," Connor elaborated. He snagged a passing technician's tablet and pulled out the poster and synopsis for the film, handing it to Rufus. "Connery's finest, as far as I'm concerned."

"Bond infiltrates the castle, rescues evil scientist with the help of CIA agents… Rufus, Wyatt and Lucy!" He exclaimed with sudden glee.

"There's a new Bond movie?" Wyatt asked.

"It's not new, it's old."

"It's new to me," Wyatt countered, curious and somewhat flattered to be incorporated into his favorite movie franchise.

"How much do you wanna bet Bond sleeps with Lucy in this one?"

Lucy glanced at Rufus, neither surprised at his expectation nor particularly scandalized. Bond always got the girl, even when he didn't. Due to her brief glance she almost missed the sudden scowl on Wyatt's face as he threw a much more irritated look at their pilot. The historian cocked her head to the side, unsure what to make of it.

"Hey, I hate to put a damper on all the fanboying," Agent Christopher finally spoke up, thankfully redirecting the conversation. "But did you find any sign of the nuke?"

"None," Rufus had to admit. "Not even radiation traces."

"I don't get it. If Flynn was going to use it, then this would have been the perfect time," the agent pointed out.

"Unless he wants to use it for something else," Connor said as if a sudden epiphany had hit him.

"Like what?"

"Well, something Anthony talked about once, but that was only theoretical."

"What if it's not anymore? What if he actually is going to use it to fuel the Mothership. Maybe that's why he wanted von Braun."

"We wouldn't be able to pin point his location through the energy spikes," Agent Christopher concluded.

"We'd certainly have to hurry if we wanted a chance. We don't know if Flynn got the answers that he was looking for," Connor pointed out, and he, Rufus and Christopher went off to discuss it in more detail.

"And then there were two," Lucy chuckled, turning to Wyatt.

"Let's just go," the man huffed and turned away. He marched toward the men's locker room determinedly, without looking back at her once. He just left her standing there. It was Lucy's turn to huff. She'd finally had enough. It was time they cleared the air between them - whether he liked it or not! At the very least, she deserved to know what she'd done to upset him. To deserve this kind of treatment from him. So she followed him, low heels clicking along on the ground. She gathered up her nerve before she reached the men's locker room or else she would have hesitated by the door and then she would have chickened out.

Without missing a step, she pressed down on the handle and threw the door open. She saw a few more men in the room - Mason's employees getting ready for their shift - but at the stormy look on her face they must have decided to duck out, because they walked past her without comment. Finally, only Lucy and Wyatt were left.

"Took a wrong turn somewhere," he suggested irritably, while she just continued to glare at him. "Lucy, do you mind?! This is the men's locker room."

"Not at all," she replied nonchalantly, quickly closing the door behind her and trusting the compound gossip to keep everybody out until they were done.

"Not what I meant," Wyatt grunted. He'd already removed his jacket and had unbuttoned his shirt. It was hanging open to reveal a peek at his well-defined chest and abs. Though he didn't strip further, he didn't cover himself either. "A little privacy would be nice, professor."

"Well, tough."

He rolled his eyes.

"If you wanna ogle some meat, go to a strip club or…"

The rest was lost on her because he muttered it under his breath. She could ask him what that was about. She should, even though she knew she probably wouldn't like it. She should challenge him on his fake disdain, because for as briefly as he knew her, he knew better than to think she came here to drool over him. Though they were nice abs… Yet Lucy chose to focus on the situation in general, so she let his little whispered slight go, even though she was almost certain she'd heard Ian in there somewhere.

"I want to know what's gotten into you since we escaped Castle Varlar? You've been grouchy and irritated and rude ever since - at least to me. You seem fine with Rufus," she pointed out. "What happened? Did I do something to offend you? Is it because I insisted von Braun had to live? You know he had to."

At his continued silence, she huffed in frustration.

"What have I done to you?" She half growled, half hiccuped at him. The strain was getting to her. She hated being on the outs with someone she was close to. Especially if she was supposed to work with them, and even more so if their opinion of her mattered. Loathed as she was to admit it right then, Wyatt's opinion mattered. He mattered. Now Wyatt wouldn't even look her in the eyes, so maybe confrontation hadn't been the way to go after all, but what else was she supposed to do? She couldn't just keep walking on eggshells around him all the time. Lucy could feel the first tears spring to her eyes. She huffed again and wiped them away furiously, angry at herself for getting so emotional. When he still didn't answer, anger got the better of her. "Fuck you."

"I think you're mistaking me for Ian."

Lucy sucked in a breath. So she hadn't misheard earlier. He had a bone to pick over Bond.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me! I'm not the one who nearly blew a mission for a bit of flirtation," Wyatt accused.

"What? How did I-"

"I saw you, you know, we both saw you - Rufus and I - cozying up to Bond at the party," he growled back.

"I was trying to find von Braun, Ian approached me. Like you, he noticed that I was nervous. He tried to calm me down."

"By holding your hand, right. And it's not like it's the first time, is it? Robert Todd Lincoln ring a bell. You seem to collect quite a few historical notches on your bed post." His cruel words and dismissive snort just threw fuel into the fire of her rage. How dare he? How dare he judge her? She'd only gotten close to Robert because she needed to be in the theater. She hadn't flirted with him with any real intention, or with Ian either until the very end when their mission had successfully concluded already. Matters going south initially weren't her fault. Besides, he was hardly any better, was he?

"Might I remind you of Kate Drummond," she barked back, feeling uncomfortably triumphant when he flinched at the name. It was a low blow, particularly after he'd told her that she reminded him of his late wife, but she couldn't help it. He'd chosen to kick her when she was already down from his continued curtness toward her, and after she'd tried to calmly discuss the matter with him too. A small, petty, vicious part of her wanted to hurt him right back. By the pain on his face, she'd succeeded. Yet her victory was short-lived, because the pain morphed into fury right before her eyes.

"Yeah, well, I never rubbed myself all over Kate like you did with Ian - and with Lincoln Junior for all I know, now did I?" He shot back with a sneer. "Leading them on like that when you had no intention of sticking around? Bad form, Lucy. If I'd known history professors were so easy, I might have decided to try for college after all."

The instant the words left his mouth, he seemed to realize that he'd gone too far. His face crumpled, the rage draining from his handsome features as he looked at her in evident shock. He made a step toward her, mouth open to say more, but Lucy backed away from him as if he carried the plague. When he looked into her eyes, he seemed surprised. Perhaps he had expected hurt to blossom on her face, but Lucy knew he instead found a fury to easily outdo his own. A dark, cold anger that must have shone dangerously in her gaze, because now it was Wyatt's turn to take a step back.

"So that's it," she said evenly. Coldly. Her deep, uncaring voice sent chills down his spine. "Is that how you see women? How you see me?" A humorless laugh escaped her. "Ian Fleming, a womanizing misogynist, is your great hero, but I kiss one guy - even that guy - without being in a serious relationship with him and suddenly I'm a whore to you?!"

She looked him up and down with something akin to disgust. It was hardly news. Plenty of men, even in academics, thought this way. She hadn't thought Wyatt was one of them. She watched him swallow, guilt probably - hopefully - knotting in his throat as she spoke. He opened his mouth again to say something, but she just plowed right on.

"Men like you repel me."

He flinched, but she didn't stick around to watch his reaction or be subjected to a possible defense. Lucy turned on her heel, ready to leave him in her dust. She didn't get far, though. She had barely taken two steps toward the door when she felt his hand enclose her wrist, felt herself be yanked toward him until their chests collided. Before she could protest or ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, his mouth followed suit, colliding with hers in an angry kiss. There was no finesse, like with Ian, just raw passion and need. And so much rage, from both of them. He didn't tease her or wait for entrance, instead he pushed his tongue past her lips to plunder her mouth.

Wyatt walked her backwards until she was trapped between the door, (through which she'd wanted to escape his presence) and the hard planes of his body (which made it impossible to ignore just that presence). One of her hands gripped his shoulder for support, the other had snuck into the opening of his shirt to lay against his toned abdomen without her permission. Wyatt hadn't been idle either. He'd wriggled himself between her thighs, a strong, sure hand lifting one of her legs to bring their pelvises together as he continued to kiss her in emulation of what else he wanted to do to her. Another dance he wanted to share with her, the increasing heat between her legs indicating that she may not be opposed either, and all the while she felt him harden rapidly against her.

As quickly as they'd come, his lips and his body left her again. He took a few steps back, while Lucy held onto the door behind her to steady herself. When she'd found some semblance of balance for both her heated body and her jumbled mind, she looked at him, standing there across the room. His shirt hung haphazardly off one shoulder and his pants were obviously uncomfortably tight, but he did nothing to hide what they had done or the effect she had on him. On the contrary, he stood there calmly, letting her gaze rake over his body as his blue eyes blazed with liquid fire. When Lucy had looked her fill and met his gaze, he spoke.

"I think about you," he admitted bluntly, although that might have been an understatement. "I think about you when I'm alone… Sometimes I even think about you when we're not alone. When it's a distraction, a dangerous distraction from the mission."

She gasped quietly, but didn't interrupt him, sure that this wasn't all there was to it.

"I don't want to think about you," he continued, a little of his previous irritation back, but now she recognized that it was as much for himself as for her. "I shouldn't think about you at all. I have Jess… o-or I will when I…"

He faltered a little, and her heart went out to him.

"I love my wife, Lucy," he confessed. Now, rather than angry, he seemed lost. As if he didn't understand his sudden interest in her after devoting four years to the memory of his beloved wife and his guilt over her death. For him, it couldn't be explained away as simple lust due to the lack of female companionship he'd experienced over the last few years. Because if that were the case, then he'd feel the same way about other attractive women. Women like Jiya (even though Rufus was interested in her), or the pretty doctor who treated them when they came back hurt, or his kind neighbor whose name he couldn't remember even though she made such an effort to get to know him, despite his odd schedule.

No, it was only Lucy.

Lucy, who popped up in his thoughts at odd times during his day, even when he had down time, making him stop by the tea aisle even though he preferred coffee. Or when she was in a new costume, like the dress she'd gotten for her date with Lincoln, and, though he blamed it on being injured and obviously deranged as a result, all he had wanted to do was crawl beneath her voluminous skirt and put his mouth on her. Lucy, who appeared in his dreams, offering him another view of her bare back, only this time he decided to do something about it, spectators be damned. Other times she was just sitting next to him on his couch to watch a stupid Bond movie, or giving him a small lecture on the times and accomplishments of long forgotten women throughout history, or just stroking a hand through his hair as he laid his head to rest in her lap. He had thought he was dreaming of Jess that time, and maybe he had at first, but then the feeling of the hand on his scalp had changed and when he'd looked up, it had been Lucy's dark hair and soft smile that had met his eyes.

"I want to bring her back, yet the more I travel in that stupid machine, the more you seem to invade my thoughts. I have tried to stop. I have talked myself out of calling you about random things and somehow kept it professional so far, but seeing you… make out with Ian today was… was…"

He closed his eyes.

"I'm a jealous man, a possessive man, but I have no idea what to do with the fact that I am those things in relation to you. You are not mine. I shouldn't want you to be mine. You have a fiancé, for God's sake, and it shouldn't bother me, but it does. I don't know how to cope."

He huffed at himself in frustration, but let her come closer and lay a hand against his throat. Not his shoulder like a friend, not his cheek like a lover. Somewhere in between, perfectly representative of where they stood with each other. The muddled in-between ground, neither here nor there. Especially after he'd been reckless enough to kiss her, but he couldn't just let her walk away thinking he… thinking he thought so lowly of her (that he didn't respect her, or care for her). Thinking so lowly of him, herself.

"I want Jess. And I want you. And I don't know… I don't know what to do," he finished, breathless. He still looked at her. Throughout his entire speech his eyes had hardly left hers. He didn't know what he'd expected to see. Confusion, pity, anger, maybe all of the above. What he saw, however, was compassion. An endless ocean, brimming in her eyes, dark and soothing. Seeing it, he knew she understood. He breathed a sigh of relief so intense, his whole body visible loosened as much of the tension of their confrontation left him all at once, knowing he was forgiven.

"I didn't know Jessica," Lucy began softly, not wanting to spook him with her name. "But if you love her, then she must have been an extraordinary woman. And an extraordinarily patient one."

His lips twitched on one side as he snorted at her gentle teasing.

"I'm sure she loved you just as much, and if you want to bring her back, I'll do what I can to help you."

He gasped, averting his eyes. The change was clear from their mission to Lincoln's assassination. He'd seen the first signs of it in Vegas, in how she understood that he'd had to try, even if she thought that messing with the past was reckless and dangerous. Now, she offered her full-on support, and that despite, or possibly because, of what had just happened. Their kiss had revealed more than just his attraction. He knew from the way she'd reacted to him that she, too, must have noticed him. More than noticed him. If she was willing to help him get Jess back, it either didn't go beyond the physical (and he was absolutely not dejected at that thought), or Lucy had the biggest fucking heart ever, and he was even more of a worthless asshole because he was planning to willfully trample all over it.

"But," Lucy continued, drawing his attention. "Even though I didn't know her, I am sure of one thing. If she loved you half as much as you still love her, I'm sure she wouldn't want you to carry her loss with you for the rest of your life. I think she would want you to grieve her, and remember her always, without entombing yourself in her memory."

He blinked suspiciously at her, but Lucy shook her head.

"Whether you ever decide to move on or not, she'd want you to be happy again, wouldn't she?"

He looked away, pondering Lucy's words. He knew she was right, but could he do that? Could he just let Jess go, even though he now had a time machine at his disposal and might be able to bring her back? He'd spent four years trying to piece together his wife's case to bring her justice. Didn't he owe it to her to try to bring her back now? Then again, he had tried. And History, or Fate, or God had laughed in his face. Yet his attempts had been feeble, given the possibilities of the Lifeboat. Should he do more, or would history forever straighten itself out at his expense?

He looked up at Lucy again. What of her? Part of him apparently already agreed with her if his recent flights of fancy about her were any indication. It was surprisingly easy to imagine a future for them. He'd take her on a proper date sometime. Dinner maybe, or a movie. Or something more original; maybe a circus, but one without any animals because that was just cruel. He'd bring her flowers, or invite her over and make her dinner at his apartment. They'd cuddle on the couch, pretending to watch something on Netflix. He had no trouble imagining where they'd pick up if he got a do-over of their fumble against the door. He'd protect her on missions, help her protect history, and get back her sister. In the meantime, their days would be filled with laughter again, and their nights with passion and loving care. It was so easy to imagine, and despite his need to set things right, it was difficult to dismiss out of hand.

He was still stuck. As if Lucy could see his continued dilemma, her hand reached up to stroke his cheek briefly, then moved further over his head and through his hair. Her nails gently scraped against his scalp, a soothing gesture that nonetheless set his nerve endings alight by throwing him back to his dream. Then she let her hand fall, and he immediately missed the comfort of her touch.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be here for you," she promised him. "As a friend."

She didn't elaborate, didn't clarify that it was only because she knew that was all he could handle at the moment. She didn't have to. Wyatt understood, closing his eyes as he nodded, relieved that he still had her in some capacity. Heart fluttering at the thought that, if and when he was ready, he only had to reach out to her to make them more. He touched his forehead to hers softly to show his gratitude.

For a moment all was quiet.

"You know, I meant it when I thanked you for helping me at the cottage. I don't think I could have pulled all of this off without your support. You give really good pep talks." She offered to change the subject. An even more grateful Wyatt grinned proudly at her. "And I wanted to tell you that I figured it out…"

He cocked his head to his side, but was sure he already knew the answer. He grasped her hand gently to show that she could count on the same support from him that she had offered, and nodded at her to continue. Lucy smiled, turned her hand in his and clasped it tightly, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

"Amy. I will fight for Amy."

End

A/N: I almost wish it had gone like this, but I guess it was too early in the series for such an open admission.