AN: Hi, again! I decided to do an introspective look into Wyatt's internal feelings on this whole Lucy and Jessica business. I, probably, took a couple liberties with what the bunker has to offer since I'm not sure if they would have a workout room or not, but in my mind they do.
This takes place after 2x5 but maybe before 2x6. Also, there is some language in here too. And suggestive imagery. One of these days I'll be writing smut for these two I just know it!
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. But it's probably for the best since they'd be married and already having babies if I did :D
"My life is a god damn pop song," Wyatt grumbled morosely to himself as he worked out in the weight room of the bunker.
The punching bag swung mightily as he slammed his fists repeatedly into it whilst burning off his extra energy. He felt like a dick. Jessica was in their room, alone, possibly wondering what she did wrong to make him up and leave. But it wasn't her. It was him.
It was the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about Lucy when he had his wife in his arms.
Wyatt gritted his teeth as he pushed the punching bag away and stormed over to the treadmill, barely breathing hard, wanting to fall over from exhaustion before he left. He stepped onto the treadmill, putting it to the highest setting, and began running.
He should be elated that his wife, who was back in his life by some miracle, was giving him a second chance. The asshole that he was in this timeline they had come back to had nearly screwed up royally. Jessica had signed the divorce papers. He had to show her that he wasn't that Wyatt. He took her to the bunker, so she could realize the truth, and thanks to Lucy, Jessica agreed to give him another chance at making things right.
And he wanted to do things right by Jessica this time. Make up for the fact that he lost her years ago because he wasn't man enough. Tonight had been the perfect chance at doing so but he fucked up. Jessica moved in for a kiss and it had been so long since he kissed his wife, and what should have been a momentous moment…ended flat.
Wyatt felt absolutely nothing when he kissed his wife. It upset him to the point that he practically stumbled in his haste to get away from her. It was all Lucy's fault. Lucy and her gentle understanding, Lucy and her silent support, Lucy and her damn doe like eyes that mesmerized him.
He hungered for her lips, to feel them soft and pliant under his before he slid his tongue between them to slide along with hers. He itched to fill his hands with her perfect round breasts and feel the way her nipples hardened under his clever touch. He longed to take their clothes off and sink into her as she eagerly took him in. Wyatt wished to hear her breathy cry of his name again as she came just before he did.
He closed his eyes as his breath came out in pants that had nothing to do with the physical exertion. His groin ached as he let the images of them in old Hollywood take shape in his mind. Lucy had been so giving with her responses. She had been so sexy and carefree. They had laughed as they made love. He didn't remember the last time he laughed with any woman in bed. They had talked for hours and he felt free. He felt as though he finally had let go of Jessica. Wyatt, on that night, in old Hollywood, had let Lucy in. The only other woman he ever let know him completely was dead and buried. And no longer was Jessica his first thought but rather a spitfire brunette was.
Then they came back to the present, and Jessica was alive again, and his whole world had tilted on its axis. Wyatt swallowed hard. He loved Jessica but he was in love with Lucy and truly had no idea what to do; his head told him one thing, but his heart…his heart told him another. He led with his instincts and intellect but for the first time ever in his life he was raging an internal war to not follow with what his heart so desperately longed for...
Lucy.
