She could honestly get used to this. His bed was warm and cozy and smelled like him. It had just the right amount of softness to firmness ratio.
It also helped that he was next to her.
Her arms fell to her side and she ran her palms against the smooth, creamy sheets. The sun wasn't shining like the previous morning, but it was still light enough that she could see his gorgeous face as he slept. He was on his back, arm thrown over his head.
She almost liked him best like this. Peaceful, relaxed, handsome.
Well, he was always handsome.
It wasn't even an argument the night before. No fuss about who would sleep where. No discussion of bathtubs or floors or erased (or not?) air mattresses. Not even a hint that one of them would sleep on the couch.
Later, they could say that the first time they slept in a bed together, it was a matter of life or death. The second time was for her own protection (or so he claimed).
But this time? This time, there was no life or death situation. No need to protect anyone.
It was simply two people who had accepted that they were alone together in this world.
And, though it'd take a while for both to admit it, they'd rather be together than not.
They'd stayed up quite late talking about time travel and fake fiancés and dating.
He'd noticed her ring. After all, he couldn't help but notice it the night before when she kept banging it against her glass of water. But as he held her hand on the couch, he turned the ring over on her finger.
"It's a nice rock. The guy's got good taste."
She lightly chuckled.
"Really? I mean, I guess, but it's not really…me? I don't know. It's kind of big."
He moved his arm from around her shoulder and took her hand, holding and twirling the ring more on her finger while he spoke.
"Maybe this version of you liked it. You liked him, after all."
That was true. And the version of her sitting there tried to like him. Noah was handsome, with a good job. An all-around good guy. Apparently, he also had money to burn on large engagement rings.
But, it never felt exactly…right. She just couldn't love Noah. And it wasn't for lack of trying. No, her heart and head belonged to someone else.
But she wouldn't be completely someone else's for a little while longer.
(That wasn't for lack of trying either.)
"Maybe…"
"So, why wear it?"
"What do you mean?
She knew what he was asking. But she was just as good as he was at deflecting.
"Why wear something for someone if they mean nothing to you?"
He was trying to be casual, indifferent. But it was more genuine than he realized.
His thumb lightly grazed her fingers. Her breath hitched in her throat.
Their eyes met and, for a split second, she thought it could happen again. His eyes briefly looked to her lips and she couldn't help herself. The words just tumbled out.
"Maybe it's just a reminder that someone…out there…loves me."
And she immediately regretted it.
All she could do was smile half-heartedly and shrug a shoulder.
The tears that came to her eyes, however, were completely involuntary.
Wyatt seemed confused and slightly hurt.
"But – do you love him?"
It was a fair question. It really was. And she'd answered it for him before.
"No…I mean, I don't really know him. I've tried. He and I – we've…tried. But, no. I don't love him."
It was a simple question. It should've been an even simpler answer.
She wanted to add something else, needed to say something more. There was something more heartfelt to say, but it just wouldn't come out. It wasn't quite to the tip of her tongue yet, but it was working its way there.
(It'd be a little while longer before she was able to say it.)
He acknowledged with a small nod.
"So, you looking to date anyone else then?"
He smirked.
Oh, how she wished she could say the first thing that came to her mind.
Maybe…depends who's asking?
She laughed slightly, scoffed at herself, and shook her head.
"Ugh, let's not even discuss dating. What's the point? I go out with someone, we go on a mission, come back and * poof * they've been erased from existence."
He smiled and covered his face with his hand, a feeble attempt to suppress the slight laughter.
"Yeah. Wow. One of the many pitfalls of dating when you're a time traveler."
She snickered.
"Yeah. So, no, I'm not dating anyone else."
Her breath caught as soon as she said it.
Anyone else.
Their eyes met briefly before she looked away, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than she wanted.
It probably should've sounded like she meant she wouldn't date anyone. Anyone at all. But the way it came out, and the way he'd interpreted it, or so he'd tell her later, was that she wasn't dating anyone else except…well, they both knew.
And a little ways down the road, he'd tell her he also interpreted this as a sign she was the first to fall, the first to commit.
She'd deny it (out loud) but he knew.
So did she.
"You know, anyone outside the three of us could be erased. Rufus, you, me. We're all we have."
The truth of that thought unsettled her more than she let on. Rufus and Wyatt had become her family.
She placed her hand on his arm and gave him a small smile.
She also took a deep breath, one she didn't realize she needed.
Her head again found his shoulder as a comfortable silence settled between them. Her hand stayed on his arm and his fingers continued to play with her ring. Both were incredibly lost in thought, but content enough to quietly sit next to each other for however long it was needed.
She tried to stifle a yawn, but it was no use.
"Sleep?"
She nodded.
"Sleep."
She was up off the couch first, intent on going to the bathroom when a thought struck her. She turned and asked, hesitantly.
"When did you stop wearing your ring?"
It wasn't meant to hurt him and she hoped it didn't. She wasn't in the same position as Wyatt, but it was a thought that lingered in her mind since the moment she discovered his wife was dead.
He couldn't answer right away. He kept his head down, his right index finger immediately, subconsciously, touching his bare left ring finger.
His voice was soft, wistful.
"When it stopped hurting to look at it every day." She was pretty sure her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed hard. "I mean," he continued, finally looking at her, "it still hurts, but, it gets easier, I suppose. That's what they say anyway."
It wasn't as light outside that morning because of the rain. It pelted the window, lightly at first, then more steadily the longer she laid there.
Between the rhythm of the rain and Wyatt's light, but gentle breathing, she could've stayed there all day.
His head rotated towards her. He was still asleep, but he turned and let out a deep breath. Like the morning before, everything stopped for her. A slight chill ran through her and she knew.
Oh, how she knew.
She'd fall in love with him every morning if this is how mornings would be.
It was happening before she knew it. Her emotions and heart were taking control.
(Though, she'd never admit she let them.)
She leaned over and, ever so lightly, placed a small kiss on his forehead. It wasn't so much the kiss that took her by surprise, but the fact that she lingered, her lips hovering above his skin. She inhaled, then let it out as she let her forehead fall against his.
Suddenly, his hand moved up her side, settling on her back and holding her to him. He didn't say a word, keeping his eyes closed, but pulled her closer to him.
Her heart pounded. Could he hear it? Did he notice her sweaty palms? Did he feel her shaky breaths against his skin?
"Lucy…"
She froze.
Never had she heard her name said so quietly, sincerely.
Was she trembling? She was certain she was.
Their foreheads and noses lightly touched. Their lips so close, they'd kiss if she only moved a hair's breadth towards him.
And she'd dreamt about kissing him again since that mission to Arkansas.
Her hand slid up his arm and to his neck.
It was happening. The teenage Lucy inside her was freaking out because she was about to kiss a gorgeous man. In his bed. As the rain fell gently outside.
Heck, the adult Lucy was freaking out.
Lucy Preston was about to be the lead in her own romance novel.
(Not that she read those things...)
She felt his sweet, warm breath on her lips.
It was now or never.
Her lips lightly grazed his. He responded and slowly, gently, moved his lips against hers.
This wasn't like the first one. That began all for show, but ended all for need. Pent up tension, they'd each think to themselves, but never admit out loud.
No, this kiss… This kiss was slow, sensual. It wasn't driven by need so much as curiosity and desire and acceptance.
Wyatt pulled her closer. She had already surrendered all thought and let her body take over. Apparently, he had, too.
Because when her phone dinged, they didn't hear it.
But when both phones dinged, multiple times, their eyes slowly popped open, mid-kiss.
Neither could say a word. The breathlessness took care of that.
She was unsure of his true intentions, feelings, desires.
After all, he was a guy and it was morning.
But then, he pulled back and looked at her, crinkling his eyes and showing that beautiful half-smile.
"I could get used to this."
She smirked.
"You mean…?"
She gestured to her body and then his, the realization dawning on him.
He shook his head.
"No. Waking up with you."
And her heart skipped a few more beats.
Their phones dinged for a sixth time and they shared a similar resigned look.
The bed was soft. Life in this little apartment was peaceful, blissful even. But, as it was, they actually had to get up and save the world, one historical time traveling moment at a time.
Man, we lead weird lives.
And, as they slowly rolled away from each other, both prepared to follow the duties of the job, she realized something else.
She was already used to waking up with him.