The warm water cascaded over her, washing away any remaining stress. Not that there was much left, as waking next to him was enough to put her at ease for a while. It also helped knowing he couldn't bear to have her out of his sight all night.

What was happening? They had danced around feelings and talking about them ever since Arkansas. He was fighting to get his late wife back one minute, and a couple of missions later, he was terrified to let Lucy out of his sight.

They had discussed his PTSD that night. Not in depth, but it did come up. She never pushed him, but let the conversation develop, allowing him to divulge as much as he wanted. She understood it. After all, she'd been through it, even if it wasn't to the same degree as a soldier. But she certainly had her own issues after the car accident and near drowning.

She squirted more shampoo – his shampoo, as she'd forgotten hers- in her hand and worked it into a thick lather through her hair. (She was secretly giddy to know she'd smell like him for the rest of the day.) She'd grabbed a change of clothes and a few necessities in the aftermath of the argument with her mom. But, obviously, there were a few things she forgot, but he was happy to lend an item or two.

However, it still felt strange being naked in his bathroom.

They'd fallen back asleep after she made her promise to him. It was the best sleep she'd ever had. No nightmares of being trapped underwater, or abducted by Flynn, or losing Amy, or, the worst one lately, calling out for Wyatt but him never finding her.

So, when she woke mid-morning wrapped securely in his arms, it was the safest she'd ever felt in her life.

She could feel him stir and she turned in his arms. He peeked at her through one eye and smiled.

"Guess we fell back asleep."

"Guess so."

His stomach growled. He laughed and put a hand on his midsection.

"Wow. That was loud. Sorry."

She giggled.

"I think we should get you some food."

He sat up in bed, running a hand through his hair and bringing his knee up to rest his elbow as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah. Want to go get some breakfast? There's a little diner down the street. Really good comfort food."

She couldn't suppress the smile across her face. And, frankly, she didn't want to.

"Sure. But uh – would it be possible for me to take a shower first?"

She felt all giggly and school-girly when she really thought about where she was at that moment.

She was naked in Wyatt's bathroom.

Her thoughts continued to drift as she stuck her face in the cascading water.

What a change from yesterday when she felt she was at the end of her rope. The fight with her mother was probably long overdue. Though, she'd later admit it did get a bit out of hand, more than likely due to the frustration of not being able to tell her mom about her job, fake fiancés, and time machines.

Her impending break-up with a fiancé (though, let's be real - he was never actually HER fiancé) weighed heavily on her mind. Wyatt was right to call her out on letting Noah go. But there was so much more to it. It's something she'd thought a lot about lately. It's probably why she dreamed about Amy as much as she did or had nightmares about getting lost and Wyatt not finding her.

Because at the end of the day, she knew there was someone there who loved her, even if she didn't reciprocate. It was petty and selfish and stupid, she knew, but in a strange way, it was also a comfort. However, it was becoming a serious problem.

If she were really honest with herself, she knew Noah was her backup plan. And that was insane. (Because in reality, he could be erased after any mission just as easily as he appeared.) But it was also the truth. It's why she still wore the ring. It was a reminder that if Wyatt succeeded in getting his late wife back, she had another plan. She always had someone who was waiting for her, even if she wasn't waiting for him.

Not that she necessarily needed anyone. She could and did take care of herself.

But wanting was an entirely different thing.

And sometimes, just sometimes, she wanted to not feel alone.

When she'd left her mom's house the night before, slamming the door like a teenager, she got in the car and drove. No particular direction in mind, though she briefly thought about being totally irresponsible and driving up to Canada.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there were still a few things, or people, that kept her in the city.

She drove down to the pier for a bit and sat on a bench, eating a chocolate crepe from a nearby café. It's where her mom used to take them when she and Amy were little. They'd listen to the seals bark, watch the mesmerizing waves break against the rocky shore, and eat crepes. Her mom would tell them the history of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge and the Great Fire of 1906. Those were her bedtime stories. None of that had changed. Yet.

Until it did, that pier would be her spot. Her totem.

She'd ended up at Wyatt's after driving around the city for a couple of hours. She couldn't go home and most certainly couldn't go to Noah's.

She knew where she would end up that night, though she tried to put it off as long as possible. Because she knew she'd feel this way. And the last thing she needed was to feel hopeful in a life that, lately, was often very hopeless.

Shaking her head and sighing, she turned off the water and reached for a towel. Thoughts still plagued her about yesterday (she knew she'd have to face her mom sometime), but, for today, she could relish in knowing she woke up in Wyatt's arms and he, in some way, cared enough to let her stay. If they were never anything else, she at least knew they were friends.

And that was okay. (Right?)

She towel dried her hair and reached for her bag of clothes, which wasn't there. Panic immediately set in and she felt flush all over.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

It was in the living room. By the couch. Where she left it last night.

Maybe, if he was still in the bedroom, she could sneak out and grab it.

She wrapped the towel tightly around her, checking in the mirror to make sure all the proper places were covered. She opened the door and tiptoed out into the hall and around the corner to the living room. Her wet hair bounced against her shoulders as she tried to be as quiet as possible. But as soon as she turned the corner, she froze.

"Um, what's going on?"

Wyatt held the front door open to a surprised Rufus and Jiya.

Wyatt turned to look at her. The blush couldn't spread fast enough across his face, down his neck, and, he'd later tell her, to other unmentionable areas.

Rufus was in pure shock: mouth open, eyes wide.

Jiya simply grinned and nudged him.

"Told you."