A/N: Revisiting the 2000 made for TV movie "For All Time", we see that you can take the man out of the 20th century, but you can't take all the 20th century out of the man.

Universal Mistakes

Charles Lattimer and his wife Laura sat on the bank of the river, fishing poles propped up against a tree branch and both lines in the water. Nether pole was attended though as the two leaned back and watched the clouds go by.

"I like this type of fishing better than fly fishing," Charles declared. "It's so much more...relaxing."

"That's right, you said you learned to fly fish with your dad when you were a kid. Something about trouble learning to use an Orvis fly fishing reel," Laura added.

"Yeah. I just couldn't get the hang of that thing. Never did, as a matter of fact."

"Charles, have you ever lied to me?" she asked out of the blue.

Charles rolled over toward her. "Of course not. Sure, when we first met I left out the part about me being married, but everything else is true. Like I said, I felt like I was living a lie back in St. Louis, NOT telling one."

"Okay, then tell me this - how old are you?" she asked, after rolling over to look him in the eye.

"Fifty. You know that, I just had my birthday last month."

"What year were you born?"

"Let's see," Charles said while drawing out the last word "it's 1897 so I think you can work that out from there."

"You tell me."

"Okay, a man born in 1847 would be fifty now. There."

Laura shook her head. "That's what I thought. You didn't answer the question. You can't answer the question, because there's something you're not telling me." Charles stared with a blank look on his face, so she continued. "You answered my question with a hypothetical math question. Now I want the truth. What year were YOU born?"

"Laura, I know you think I'm a little old for you but I..." he started to object.

"Answer the question Charles," she stated quite matter-of-factly. Demanded, based on what he had come to know about her.

He was silent for a long time, as though weighing how to answer. "I don't suppose I can ask you to guess." When she started to get angry, he quickly changed his tact. "Okay, okay...but it's going to take a lot of explanation."

"I can take a lot of explanation. What I can't take is lies."

Charles pulled himself up to stand before her, but instead looked out over the water while he spoke. "I was born in 1952. I don't expect you to believe me."

"I do believe you."

He turned at looked at his wife. "Do you? Really?"

"I admit I don't know HOW it could be, but it answers so many questions. Those strange clothes you wore the first time we met - that's how people dressed WHEN you came from, right?"

"Some do. It depends. People dress a lot of different ways back there."

"Um hum. And you knew that McKinley was going to voted in as President."

"Yeah."

"And that there was going to be a gas explosion at the rally."

"I didn't know about that until after I visited the second time," he admitted. "I happened to read about it while I was showing Kristen a picture of you in a history book."

"Your wife, who won't be born for another fifty years."

"Um...fifty-five. Yeah, her. So I've slipped up a few times, huh?" he asked.

"A few, but no so much that people would notice. Let's see, you mention a lot of things that you are sure are going to happen because to you they already have. Like your sports page. You wanted to put in sports scores, but were surprised when no one was really playing basketball yet until you found out it was because it had just been invented. You learned to fly fish as a kid with a reel that wasn't even invented until a few years ago. You asked me once about the USS Maine blowing up - two months before it actually happened."

"Sorry, I love history but I don't remember everything about it. I knew the Maine blew up before McKinley got assass..." Charles said before freezing.

"The president is going to be killed? When?" Laura asked, aghast.

"I don't know. After he starts his second term sometime. I don't remember, I read it a long time ago."

Laura rubbed her eyes. "I guess it makes sense. Lincoln. Garfield. I guess presidents get killed a lot in your time. Someone tried to kill Jackson but it didn't work. If you don't want a president, you should just convince people to vote for someone else; killing him is no solution."

"You'll be happy to know that there's only been one more after McKinley. I guess the Secret Service got a lot better."

"Shouldn't we try to stop it?" she implored. "I mean, to let someone die when you have the chance to safe them..."

"How? We don't know when it will happen, or where, and no one would believe how I know. Maybe we already tried and failed. And what if I change history and somehow never get born?"

"You said you didn't belong back there anyway!"

"Yeah, but if I'm gone there I can never have come back here. Probably. I don't know," he said as he paced around. "I don't want to risk it. I don't want to lose you and Mary." A horse whinnied nearby. "Or you, Turnip." He knelt beside Laura. "I still believe with every fiber of my being that I belong here and now."

"And even though you changed history before, you don't want to do it again."

"I came back to save YOU. McKinley and all the other people in that veranda were saved because I couldn't let them get hurt either. Besides, I had to save McKinley because that's the way it was before I changed it the first time - I was just fixing it back. Everything that I do from now on will just change little Somerville, Missouri and the rest of the world can get on fine without me." Charles sat down on the grass and smiled. "Just like I wanted in the first place."

"What about the world you left behind?"

"What about it? I was going to quit my job anyway. I didn't have any kids. They can have my car."

"Car?"

"Um, a horseless carriage. It uses a very small motor like a train engine, sort of."

"You must have been rich."

"Not really. A lot of people have cars. Too many sometimes, I think."

"Okay. What about your wife or family or friends?"

"When I told you it wasn't working out with Kristen, that was true. She's a psychologist...wait, they may not have that yet. She's a doctor that helps people with emotional problems. Anyway, the important thing is she knew things weren't really going well between us and we were going to get a divorce. My best friend Al Glasser is the one that took me to the station for the last time. I don't know if he really believed me or not, but he helped me get here."

"What will happen to them when you never come back?" Laura asked. "Aren't you worried about that?"

Charles hung his head. "I do worry about that. But I had to get back as fast as I could - the way I came was going to be shut off and I didn't want to miss it. Almost didn't make it until I begged the conductor on the train. Oh, I guess I haven't told you about him either. He had something to do with the whole time travel thing, said I looked like I needed it."

"I don't know about a conductor, but you should let people know back there that you made it. Leave it up to them to believe it or not."

"How?"

Laura's eyes started to glass over. "You're a smart man, Charles Lattimer. If anybody can figure it out, you can. You have to do it. If not for your sake, for theirs. And mine. And for the baby."

Charles smiled. Laura wasn't showing yet, but it looked like he was finally going to be a father. It thrilled and scared him at the same time, but together they would get through it. They hadn't told Mary yet, waiting until Laura was a little further along. But there was no harm in letting everyone know he was okay and happy.

O-O-O-O-O

Al Glasser sat at his desk at The Latham Agency, one of the premier advertising agencies in St. Louis and the Midwest. He drummed his fingers on his desk as his mind was far from work. Four days ago he had dropped his best friend Charles Lattimer off at the train station, with some wild story about going into the past. Pure bull, except...there was that photo of the Somerville Gazette in that history book Charlie showed him that showed a cartoon that was SO Charlie. Coincidence? And when I asked him to promise me he'd come back, he never promised - he only thanked me for being his friend.

Charlie was a good artist, and the Spring Soap people were thrilled with his latest ad proposal. Sure, he had dropped a few hints before that he wasn't completely happy with his life, but everyone does that. No, this was very sudden and after he tendered his resignation to Marshall Latham after the successful pitch - well, something wasn't right. He hadn't contacted Kristen to start the divorce process, either. Or even given his best friend a call.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up. "Hello?"

"Mr. Glasser, this is Gina at reception. I have a visitor waiting for you."

"I'm...a little busy. Ask if they can come back tomorrow."

"He says it's important. He has a package for you."

"Take the package and put it in my box or send a runner later."

"He says hand delivery only, and it concerns Mr. Lattimer."

"Charlie?" Al hurriedly slapped the phone receiver down, missing the cradle but not caring. He rushed to the reception area by the elevator and found an older black man standing beside Gina's desk. "I'm Al," he said, somewhat out of breath.

"Slow down, Mr. Glasser. This letter took a long time to reach you - there's no hurry," the delivery man said. "Catch your breath first. Time is always going to be there."

Al did just that, taking a few deeper breaths. He couldn't quite place the older man's uniform, but it looked odd - almost like he worked on a train. His hat said 'Conductor' but he didn't look like he led an orchestra. It was probably the hat that gave that odd impression of being old-fashioned. He took a final lungful and held it for a few seconds before releasing. "Okay, I can talk again."

"Good. Do it on your own time, I have a schedule to maintain. This package has been in the trust of several law offices through the years and banks as one firm financially acquired another, until the appointed day and time when it was to be delivered. That time is now." He presented Al with a box wrapped in brown paper - somewhat brittle and torn in a few spots. The twine tying it together appeared to be new.

"Thank you," Al managed to get out while his attention was split with the package and delivery man. He absentmindedly started to search his pocket for tip money.

"No need for that."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to insult..."

"Don't concern yourself about it. Sometimes the universe makes mistakes. The trick is to have a good life regardless," he said before doffing his hat and entering the elevator. Al stared at the package as he walked back to his office, bumping into a door and two people on his way. Once seated at his desk, he found a letter opener and cut the twine before unwrapping the package that was addressed to him. Inside was a plain box, and inside that he found a printed letter, written with a Somerville Gazette heading.

May 13 1897

Dear Al:

By now you've probably figured out I'm not coming back. I'm safe and sound in 1897, and it's everything I always wanted out of life. I know it isn't the life for most people given the choice, but I CHOOSE to be here. I only hope that you will eventually get this letter.

Enclosed, as a kind of proof, please find a book of some of my drawings that were inspired by life in Somerville before the arrival of the twentieth century. If you can use them at work, great - if not, then I give them to my best friend as a remembrance.

By now I'm sure you've talked to Kristen; this was a long time coming but we've grown in different directions over the years and spending time together pretending that both of us is happy just wouldn't be healthy; she would be the first to agree if someone else came to her with the same problem. Quite frankly, I think you and her make a better couple anyway. I don't know if you've ever entertained such thoughts, but you have my blessing if you do. I do love her and always will, but we just weren't traveling down the same road anymore. I'd be happy if my two favorite people back there could work things out.

Finally, please take back my library books if she hasn't already - I don't want to get my account overdue. Just for kicks, before you take it back check out page 137 of St. Louis: Our Heritage and History and see if Laura's picture is still there with her paper. Unless I miss my guess, it shouldn't say anything now about her and McKinley dying in a gas line explosion.

You can share as little or as much of this with Kristen as you want, whenever you want. A wise man once told me that sometimes the universe makes mistakes. I think I'm correcting one by staying here.

Charlie

Al quickly thumbed through the book of drawings - they were definitely Charlie's work. They were mostly country landscapes and scenes or people walking and on horses, nice if you liked that bucolic kind of thing. He thought for a moment and then picked up the phone and dialed. "Hello, Kristen? Yeah, Al. Say, do you want to grab a bite to eat tonight after work? I got something I think you should see. No. No. No, it's about Charlie. I thought that would change your mind. I'll swing by at seven? Okay, see you then." He hung up the phone and looked at the book again. It was going to be a very interesting dinner conversation.

The End

A/N: I had never heard of this movie, but stumbled upon a fic by another author (Thank you Mimine666) and after I looked it up and found it on YT I chose to watch it. Of course I wanted to tie some of the ending of the movie together better (leaving well enough alone ISN'T my forte) so this was the result.