Emma walked deliberately towards the ante-room of an abandoned warehouse in Oakland, fresh off of her latest jump to 1945. Jessica was cleaning her gun, her eyes focused in concentration, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she swabbed the interior barrel. She didn't even look up as Emma approached. "Where is he?"

"Gone" said Emma with a thoughtful purse of her lips.

Jessica jerked her face up to look into Emma's, her eyes wide with alarm. "So, you think they brought him back when they made that jump a few hours after ours?"

She shrugged, "Looks like it. And Jensen is gone too."

Jessica slammed her gun down on the table with a huff. "Why did we have to leave him there in the first place?"

Emma sighed, "Jessica, I told you. There were two ways this situation could go. I realize that you wanted to keep Wyatt….for you own reasons," she rolled her eyes. "but if he's back with his team and has taken Jensen along, it works out better for us in the long run.

Jessica sighed in resignation and started cleaning her gun again. "How?"

Emma sat down beside her, "If Jensen talks and tells them where she will be, then they'll come in, guns blazing to save her. Who's to say what will happen in the chaos?"

Jessica arched her brow, "And if they don't?"

"Then we stick with the original plan." She nodded towards the manila folder on the table. "Is this it?"

Jessica smiled and nodded, "Yup, revised medical history for Lucy Preston. It took me weeks to get a handle on Agent Christopher's signature, it's not perfect, but I think it's pretty damn good."

A broad smile spread across Emma's face. There was no way that Rittenhouse was going to suspect her and she would be damned before she became beholden to Lucy Preston for anything. After action reports by "Agent Christopher" indicated that Lucy was suffering from severe depression and paranoia. Jessica provided the Risperidone from her own personal prescription and her doctor was kind enough to e-mail a copy of her medical records. The e-files were easily manipulated and voila, Lucy Preston is on suicide watch – supported by her "medical records" and "personnel file." It was almost too easy. "Where's the princess, now?"

"Asleep" said Jessica absent-mindedly. "I gave her a dose this morning in her tea. She passed out about an hour later."

"Well, maybe give her a half dose before the big event tonight. We need her awake and we need that medicine in her bloodstream, so it can be verified. Even if her team doesn't come in guns blazing, maybe we can count on a jealous Wyatt to make a big enough scene to make the suicide angle even more plausible."

Jessica muttered, "Oh, that's one thing you can almost always count on." Emma, satisfied with that answer, walked away - but Jessica stayed behind, scowling. She would never tell Emma, it would show a weakness in her that she didn't want revealed, but her motivation to see Lucy Preston die had less to do with Rittenhouse and more to do with her hold on one Wyatt Logan.

Lucy's gaze wandered around the crowded reception room at Stanford University. Intermingled with the faces of well-known friends from her past life, were throngs of acquaintances she knew only as friends of her mother's. Then there were those she had never seen before, strangers to her, but here anyway, to honor her mother's memory.

Or maybe their attendance here was two-fold, as was hers. On the surface, a grieving daughter who had, for all intents and purposes, dropped off the face of the Earth for a year – now back to honor her mother's memory. The other, more sinister and underlying reason, to be a pawn in a game of chess for a secret organization that she was unwillingly a part of. How many of these strangers, she wondered, were Rittenhouse?

Emma and Jessica had arranged it all, picking a neutral spot with a mix of people so that no one who might be looking to start trouble could ascertain who might be Rittenhouse and who could just be a family friend. Lucy had to admit that the plan was brilliant. The seemingly honorable gesture towards her mother had, apparently, not gone unnoticed by the superiors at Rittenhouse. Emma had been in deep conversation with some formidable looking men almost since their arrival and Lucy couldn't help but notice the way they looked at her with a mixture of pity, reverence, fear and awe. Emma seemed to be looking exceptionally smug, which could only mean she was getting praised for a job well done.

Lucy had been reeling from the revelation that she and Garcia Flynn shared the same father for two days and still, the shock of it all seemed too much. In fact, the past few days she had found herself dizzy, lethargic and unable to think coherently. Her thoughts were a mess, but, she had concluded, that might be because of everything she was now dealing with. Kidnapping, Wyatt, the loss of her mother, Wyatt, the Garcia Flynn revelation, Rittenhouse, Wyatt – she was so worried about him and wondered if he was still trapped in 1945. She wondered if he had somehow managed to escape and find Rufus. She wondered if he was even still alive.

She was dressed in a simple black dress, boat necked, ¾ sleeved and hitting just above her knee. Jessica had provided her with a glass of punch which was now empty, but for some reason she still had grasped in her hand – it felt like a lifeline of sorts, something to hold onto, while her world spun out of control around her. She stood stoically next to a table on which she rested her free hand in an attempt to steady herself on quaking knees. Countless people had already approached her offering their condolences and reminiscing about their relationship with her mother. Lucy had merely nodded at them, it was all she could do apart from allowing silent tears to fall from her eyes. She wasn't even sure if she smiled or frowned as people shared their reminisces with her. Except for the rising panic and cold dread in her chest, she felt numb. There was not one in the crowd she was happy to see, not one person present she felt even remotely connected to, old family friends seemed to belong to another life, another Lucy…and didn't they? Not one of them knew who she was. Not really. They didn't know the Lucy who sat by her mother's bedside as she was dying with cancer, they didn't know the Lucy who had a sister named Amy, they didn't know the Lucy who now stood before them, grieving a mother who was not really her mother. No, Lucy's mother may have always been a descendant of David Rittenhouse, but in Lucy's timeline – Henry Wallace and Amy had kept her from completely selling her soul to the society he founded. She had to believe that, it was the only way she could cope with the idea that this version of her mother's last regret was that she hadn't introduced Lucy to Rittenhouse sooner.

She could feel dozens of eyes on her, she could hear snippets of whispered conversations. Conversations that revolved around her - her haunted look and changed personality, her sudden disappearance and abrupt reappearance, rumors of a more serious reason for her moroseness. Lucy didn't care. She knew that by the end of the night, Rittenhouse, would have her in their clutches again and they would either reshape her into some brainwashed sycophant or she would crack up and lose herself entirely.

An older couple approached her and wrapped her in an embrace. Lucy was at a complete loss as to who they were, but as the woman spoke, Lucy assumed that in another life, she must have known them. "Oh, Lucy darling, we have been so worried about you. You've just not been yourself for so long and now this – oh Lucy, I'm so sorry" the woman dabbed a tissue at her eyes, tilting her head in pity at her.

Lucy gaped at the couple, unsure of what to say. What do you say to people who seem to know you that you have no memory of? She decided on basic politeness and prayed that any attempts at further conversation would be discouraged. "Th-Thank you." she stuttered out.

The woman considered her with concerned eyes. "Lucy, are you doing alright? You just seem so distant and so –"

The man, whom Lucy assumed was her husband, cut her off, "Anne, really – she just lost her mother, of course she's not doing alright." He offered Lucy a wan smile. She couldn't help but feel like he reminded her of someone, but she put the thought out of her mind as he continued to talk with her, "The stress, no doubt, has been very hard on you. You need someone to watch over you, someone who cares for you." His wife gently swatted at his chest in playful reproach, but she gave Lucy a hopeful look.

If Lucy was supposed to catch any meaning in that expression, it was lost on her. Someone who cares for you was echoing in her head and all she could think of was Wyatt. She wondered if he was safe - if he was still in 1945 or if they had since moved him to the present. She felt the tears beginning to form in her eyes as she came back to her senses and realized the couple were still standing there, watching her. "I-I'm so sorry."

They both looked at her with sad smiles, but almost immediately brightened up as they looked beyond her. "No need, dear. We're just going to leave you two alone." And they skirted off leaving Lucy utterly confused by their last statement until –

"Hello, Beautiful."

She knew that voice. She would wake up in a panic at night sometimes, hearing it. That moment that she relived in her nightmares when she unwittingly walked into her own engagement party realizing once again, how much that first time jump had changed her life. She spun around and almost fell over from the shock.

Noah.

It was decided that Conner Mason would stay behind with their hostage as the rest of the team headed to Stanford to try to blend in with the crowd of mourners. Mason was still working on the problem of revisting timelines and he felt he was getting close. He didn't want any distractions. This, he felt, was the perfect opportunity to get the peace and quiet he needed that would allow him to work unhindered.

Jiya donned one of her 1940s dresses, while Wyatt, Flynn and Rufus wore suits from their other missions. Agent Christopher eyed them appraisingly. "Not bad, I guess you won't look completely out of place."

"We're kinda like pros at this now – is Flynn gonna be okay? I mean, he is a wanted criminal."

Agent Christopher sighed, "Yes, Rufus – he's going to keep a low profile and stay on the perimeter with me. Any red flags and I cuff him – no one will be any wiser. That sound alright to you, Flynn?"

"You're the boss, ma'am" he shrugged.

Agent Christopher looked seriously at her team, "It won't JUST be Rittenhouse in there. I have to hand it to them with this one, we can't just raid the place. We don't know who to suspect, who is Rittenhouse, who isn't – the US Government would face all kinds of problems if we crashed a Memorial Service for someone as beloved as Carol Preston with no real proof of intended malice towards Lucy. With her in the midst of them all, who knows what they will do to her if we run in there, guns blazing. If what Jensen tells us is true, Emma would absolutely use that opportunity to toss her into the fray, putting her life directly at risk. We need to be invisible."

Wyatt was still a little leery about trusting Jensen's information. He was not over Jessica's betrayal and he was definitely not going to readily trust someone who was admittedly a triple agent. "What bothers me is why did he give Emma's goons access to the bunker if he was trying to protect her? I mean, wasn't he supposed to be keeping her away from Emma?"

Agent Christopher looked seriously at Wyatt, "Look, I don't like this any more than you do – but like he said, they knew it was just a matter of time before Emma attacked – giving her what she wanted and then placing himself in a position where he could ensure Lucy's relative safety and find out Emma's intentions…he was doing his job." Wyatt shook his head in disbelief. Agent Christopher frowned at him, "Wyatt, this is not ideal – I know that, but according to my sources, there is a reception honoring Carol Preston at Stanford tonight, so that intel is, at least, correct.

"But it could be a distraction – a red herring. They send us on some wild goose chase while Lucy is sent to God knows where." Wyatt wasn't even trying to hide the edge of emotion in his voice.

Agent Christopher nodded at him in understanding. She could see the desperation in his eyes, the concern etched in his brow. She placed a comforting hand on his back. "And if he's telling the truth, she'll be there and we will bring her home.

A few hours later, Rufus and Jiya entered the reception hall at staggered intervals. Rufus immediately spotted Emma and positioned himself behind a pillar, tissue in hand, ready to feign crying if he was approached. Jiya, made up as she was, looked so different than her usual self that she was able to move throughout the room without garnering so much as a second glance from either Jessica or Emma, both of whom she kept firmly in her sights. There were hundreds of people with whom she could mingle and blend in with – her youth passed her off as a student wishing to pay her respects without raising a single eyebrow.

Wyatt had skirted around the building to the delivery entrance. He rushed through maintenance corridors until he found a door that opened up to the back corner of the main reception room. His eyes scanned the entirety of the facility. There were so many people and for a moment, the dread that this whole thing was a ruse to throw them off the scent returned, until he finally saw her, standing next to a table talking with an elderly couple. He breathed out a sigh of relief. She was there.

But as Wyatt continued to watch her, he noticed immediately that something was not right. Her eyes looked glazed and her movements seemed slow, but also jerky and involuntary. Drugged. Horror overcame him as he remembered what Jensen had said about the Risperidone. He was just assessing the best way to reach her when he saw him approach her from behind. He saw her eyes widen in surprise and watched with a jolt of jealousy as she spun around to face the man who now had his arms wrapped around her in a fond embrace.

That doctor guy.

Her fake fiancé

Noah…something.

Noah

She sputtered out his name as she pulled away from his embrace. "Wh-Why are you here?" She knew the answer to that question. He had been her "fiancé" for apparently two years and he and her mother were close.

Hmm…too close, maybe. She looked at him warily. Could he possibly be one of them? Would Rittenhouse ever allow her, with all of her ancestry, to marry anyone who wasn't tied to the organization? Probably not. She instinctively backed several steps away from him.

Noah's face fell. "Lucy, I still care about you so much. I have been going nuts this past year or so not knowing where the hell you were or" he cleared his throat, "who you might be with." His eyes searched her face for any indication that might betray a hint as to whether or not she carried any regrets over their breakup, he reached out and tenderly caressed her cheek.

Lucy closed her eyes and shook her head frantically, "No, no no no….I – I…- you and I, we – "

Noah placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Hey, it's okay. I-I just saw you talking with my parents and I just wanted to come over and see you. Talk to you." He sighed. "I miss you, Lucy."

So that explained the couple she had just spoken to, no wonder they were looking at her like she was crazy. She had been their one-time almost daughter-in-law and she looked at them and spoke to them like they were complete strangers. Of course, to her they were complete strangers…but they didn't know that. Her eyes wandered around the room, she felt like she couldn't breathe. The revelation about Garcia Flynn, the death of her mother, her worry over Rittenhouse, her concern for Wyatt, and now Noah -it was all crashing down on her at once and she absolutely felt herself sway.

Noah grabbed her arm, "Oh my God, Lucy, are you okay?"

"She's fine." Emma's voice rang out. She's just not eaten enough. Here, I brought you some canapes and some punch." She handed Lucy another glass with a simpering grin. Lucy took it from her as Emma winked at the two of them. 'I'll leave you two to it then."

Lucy didn't want punch. Talking to Noah? That required some alcohol. She flagged down a waiter and snagged a white wine.

Noah watched her with alarm as he held her steady while she took a bite of the puffed meat pastry and drank down the wine, probably a little faster than she should have. "Thank you" she whispered. "I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed at the moment." She closed her eyes as she felt the room spin.

"Lucy, you shouldn't be drinking alcohol, especially with the medications you're taking."

Perplexed, Lucy looked up at him. "Wha – What are you talking about?"

Noah smiled at her sadly and ran his hand up and down her arm, "I'm sorry, Lucy. I shouldn't have..I just –I worry about you and I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I will always be here for you. But you shouldn't be reckless like this."

Lucy shook her head slowly, confused by what Noah was saying. Her brain seemed to fog. Surely this wasn't from one glass of wine? Her thoughts were disjointed. Her eyes darted around the room as Noah continued to talk to her. She didn't hear him, she was only vaguely aware that he was standing there, even though his arm was still caressing hers. She felt herself blinking hard as she attempted to focus her vision. She had just flickered her dark eyes to the far corner of the room when she found a pair of blue ones, gazing intently back at her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she almost called out to him, but then she blinked and he was gone.

She attempted to make her way over to the spot where she had seen him, but her feet felt heavy, her head was still spinning and Noah still had her arm. "Lego off me" her speech was slow and slurred, and everyone in the room was looking at her. She must have yelled it out, though she had no idea that she had.

Noah put his hand on her waist and pulled her close, "Lucy, this is why you shouldn't have had that wine." Her eyes were now rolling in her head and she was feeling increasingly heavy as her body began to go limp.

The room was in slight chaos now as shouts rang out through the room. People were murmuring and encircling the scene. Lucy felt herself being pulled over to a post. Noah was trying to give her some privacy – he had her face in both of his hands, looking at her with mounting concern. She could tell he was calling her name, but his voice seemed very far away.

And then suddenly he was there. She saw Noah look at him with anger as he wrenched his hands away from her face and replaced them with his own. "Lucy! Lucy! Stay with me Lucy." She could see the panic in Wyatt's face, but she felt completely incapable of even forming a word. She knew vaguely that something was wrong.

Noah was breathing heavily, his face red with anger. "Don't you think you've done enough? Every time you're around she's in some kind of trouble. I imagine you're responsible for her current state?" Noah scoffed. "Besides, this is a private reception – I don't believe you were ever acquainted with Carol Preston. I know for a fact, that she was alarmed by your influence on her daughter."

The entire room was watching their exchange now, Noah baring down on Wyatt angrily, Wyatt looking murderous, his arms wrapped around Lucy whose head was now lolling dangerously on her shoulders. "Hey, Doc – this may come as a surprise to you, but I don't give a damn about what you or Carol Preston think of me. My main concern right now is Lucy. Can't you tell something is wrong with her? Aren't you a damn doctor?"

"Given the medication she's been on, it doesn't surprise me that she is a little out of sorts this evening, especially if she took it on an empty stomach and mixed it with alcohol." Noah said accusingly. "You know, she was just fine before she met you. I've seen her medical file, it's appalling."

Wyatt bit back the urge to beat the shit out of Dr. Noah, but Wyatt had to make him understand, or else Lucy was going to be in serious trouble. "Look, man – I don't know what you read or what the hell you've been told, but Lucy is not on any medication. Believe me – I know." Wyatt looked down at Lucy and cupped his hand to her face, "Lucy, tell him – do you take anything?"

Lucy's eyes were rolling in her head, the room was tilting but she mustered up enough self-awareness to shake her head and slur out, "I don't take anything"

"See?" Wyatt cried in desperation. "These bastards drugged her…we need to get her stomach pumped."

Noah's eyes widened as he looked from Wyatt to Lucy. He could tell from the fear and panic etched on his face that Wyatt was telling the truth, though he still carried doubt, "Why- why would anyone do that?" It would mean they had to falsify her medical records, what purpose would that serve?"

"Ask questions later, Doc – if you want to help her, then do something now." he said through gritted teeth, his face not disguising his mounting panic. Wyatt had his arms propped up under Lucy's, trying to keep her upright as her knees buckled below her. Noah had just run off to get his medical bag when a gun shot rang out, the force of which knocked Lucy sideways out of Wyatt's arms. He screamed out in anger and despair as Jessica sprinted from the room, gun in hand, Emma hot on her heels. The entire room was now in chaos, people were screaming, crying and rushing around. Wyatt wanted to chase the two of them down, but he would not leave Lucy's side. She was now sprawled on the floor, bleeding from the gunshot wound that had hit her in the back of the shoulder. "Lucy! Oh God" he moaned. "Lucy! Please God, no."

Noah was there in an instant, medical bag opened and moving quickly, yelling for someone to call an ambulance. He flipped her over to determine the seriousness of the wound. "It's a clean shot" he muttered. "But if she's been drugged –" he swallowed hard "-depending on what the substance is and how much she was given, she could go into cardiac arrest. Did you see who did this?"

"I know who did it." Wyatt growled through his tears and gritted teeth. His face was close to Lucy's now, her blood on his hands as he caressed her cheek willing her to stay with him.

Lucy felt herself slipping as the minutes passed. She was fighting so hard to keep her eyes open and fixed on Wyatt, but her body was fighting back. Her eyes were heavy, the pain was overwhelming - she just wanted to fall asleep so that she could float away into peaceful oblivion while the world went to hell around her. He shook her gently demanding her attention. "Hey, Lucy – Lucy, you gotta stay awake for me, okay?" His hands were shaking as he put pressure on her bullet wound. "The ambulance is on the way, we're gonna get you all fixed up and out of here."

"Her heart rate is too high" said Noah shaking his head with concern as he checked her pulse. "Lucy, I need you to take slow, deep breaths for me, okay?"

She was gasping for air and Wyatt could see that she was panicking. He grasped onto her hand and lifted her head to meet his. 'Breathe, Lucy. Just breathe." She felt sick – the room was tilting, the pain from her arm excruciating and her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. Chills ran through her making her shudder and she closed her eyes. Wyatt couldn't hide the fear in his voice, "No, no Lucy – stay with me. Lucy!" Obediently, she cracked her eyes open, groaning as she did so – she just wanted to sleep, the nausea was overwhelming and the spinning room did nothing to help that. Rufus was pushing through the crowd, leading the EMTs to her. Her vision clouded and blurred and she once again closed her eyes to the chaos erupting around her. Again, Wyatt pleaded with her to stay awake, begging her to look at him, but darkness was descending. His voice seemed far away and as she finally slipped into unconsciousness she heard him no more.

"What the HELL were you thinking?" screamed Emma as she dragged Jessica into a maintenance shed across campus.

Jessica was fuming. Her chest heaved as she paced the small building fuming at Emma Whitmore. "Wyatt knew, Emma. He knew and he was getting that doctor to help him save her. I couldn't let that happen. I wanted her to die."

"Welcome to the club" snapped Emma. "But now thanks to you we've got Rittenhouse breathing down our necks because you just shot their most prized member right in front of the whole damn society."

Jessica hesitated, "Maybe I can explain it away…I can tell them I wasn't aiming for her."

Emma rolled her eyes, "You were standing in the middle of the room and everyone saw you shoot her from behind. There was no clear shot at Wyatt, if that's what you were going for. Do you really think that they are going to buy that?" Emma put her hand on Jessica's throat, her voice dangerous. "And even if they did buy it, it doesn't change the fact that you were so reckless you fired a gun in her direction – no, there's no way around this, sweetie." Emma punched Jessica in the face.

Jessica wrenched her neck out of Emma's grasp, rubbing her throat and placing her hand over her swollen cheek. "Wyatt wasn't supposed to be there." She spat out. Jensen was supposed to keep him in 1945 while we took care of this. Then I could have gone back and –"

"What? Worked on your marriage?" Emma scoffed. "Keeping him in 1945 so he would be there waiting for you after Lucy was permanently out of the picture?" Emma rolled her eyes. "You ruined everything. If you had just been patient, she would have been out of the picture."

Emma was furious with Jessica. There was nowhere for them to hide now, except maybe the past. But how long could they keep that up? If Lucy Preston died, Emma knew that Wyatt would never rest until they were dead. He and his LifeBoat gang would hunt them wherever they went. If Rittenhouse didn't kill them, the so-called Time Team would. Even if Lucy lived, Wyatt's anger combined with Rittenhouse's was something that would not just go away – they were as good as dead. Jessica, in her jealous rage, had signed their death warrants.

Or maybe not – Emma's breathing slowed as her mind worked to wrap around the problem of Lucy Preston. She needed Lucy Preston to die, but she had to be blameless in it. She wished that Lucy had never been born, but if she went back to kill either Carol or Benjamin Cahill she knew that it would directly affect the course of her life and her recruitment to Rittenhouse. She walked up and down the darkened shed, trying to plan her next move.

Jessica watched her with resentful eyes, angry at herself for getting so carried away, angry at Wyatt for looking at and loving Lucy in a way he never did with her, and angry that everything they had worked for in Rittenhouse was all for naught, because of Lucy Preston. "I'm sorry, Emma" Jessica sniveled.

Emma closed her eyes and thought back to her first few years with Rittenhouse. The training, the thirst to prove herself, her years as a sleeper agent, her betrayal of Anthony – and then it dawned on her. She was amazed that she hadn't thought of it sooner. "We might just be able to pull this off after all" she breathed out. Jessica looked at her with curiosity. "Time to initiate Plan B."

"There's a Plan B?" Jessica asked as she followed Emma into the night.

Emma turned to look at her as she made her way to the Mothership, "There is now."