Sweethearting The Bra
The mission had been a success. They’d gone in hoping to succeed, hoping to save Rufus, but deep down, they’d expected to lose, to die trying, because they were attempting the impossible. But they had been wrong; they’d saved Rufus and gotten him home. Rittenhouse hadn’t been defeated, Emma and Jessica had escaped, there was still work to do, but as they stood in the bunker, shellshocked with happiness, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was they had won this battle. Denise was sat on the table exhausted from holding everything in, the gentlest of tear in the corner of her eye. Connor was whooping in the background, cheering wildly inbetween random hugs of a bemused Rufus. Flynn was leaning against a pillar, acting disinterested but the faintest of smiles on his face. Wyatt was sat at the table near Denise, holding his ribs as Lucy gently dabbed at the cut on his head with a wet cloth. They weren’t talking, but they were staring at the centre of the bunker, where Rufus stood, Jiya in front of him. Between the gunshots, the knives and the fighting, they hadn’t had time to react, Jiya to saving Rufus and Rufus to discovering that he had died. But now, at Rufus stood in the bunker, feeling the pumping of his blood coursing through his veins, the air upon his skin, he felt like he’d never truly appreciated the majesty of being alive until now. Jiya stood staring at him, her hands to her face, overwhelmed with every emotion she could think of: anger that she’d lost him, sadness he died for her, amazement they saved him, happiness he stood in front of her alive and well.
Rufus stood looking around, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind “So, there was a future Wyatt and Lucy, and they came back from the future to save me because of how important I am to the future?”
Jiya pulled her hands down from her face and shook her head. “No, you idiot. They came back from the future because of how important you are to us.”
Rufus stared, then a big grin appeared on his face. “Yeah, I am.” Then ducked as Jiya playfully went to hit him. She suddenly stopped, and began to tear up, the emotions of the last few years all crashing down upon her. She felt Rufus pull her close, the whispers of “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here now” in her ear as she breathed Rufus’ scent in, rested her head upon the chest she’d missed sleeping on all those nights she had been alone. He gripped her tight as she cried into him.
Denise felt the tears starting to fall down her cheek. Mason quietened in the background, running his hands over his face as he tried not to tear up. Flynn looked away, thinking of lives not saved. Lucy’s hand had frozen with the cloth inches from Wyatt’s face, and felt his fingers over hers as he pulled her hand away, holding fingers. They still weren’t looking at each other.
Jiya’s tears began to subside as she caught control of herself, she felt slightly embarrassed, but it didn’t matter, she knew nobody was judging her. Maybe Flynn, but he judges everybody. She stifled a laugh at herself, then looked up to Rufus. “You know, it’s not every day that you cheat death. We should go celebrate, your choice, what do you want to do?”
The biggest grin appeared on Rufus’ face, and he blurted out “Star Wars marathon, every film, even The Phantom Menace. I’ve suddenly realised I would NOT rather die than watch it again. Plus, I’m looking forward to yelling at Mace Windu that I cheated death, beat that mother-”
“-if you end that word I am making you sit through The Final Frontier.”
“Can you take me back to Chinatown?”
“I will gladly drop you off if you make me sit through The Phantom Menace after saving your ass from Rittenhouse.”
The two stared at each other, smiles on their face. Rufus leaned forward and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he let go.
“Jiya, I don’t care what we do. I just want to be with you.”
Wyatt smirked, impressed at Rufus’ line, and he caught out of the corner of his eye Lucy smirking too. They briefly looked at each other for the first time since they’d saved Rufus. They looked over to see Mason had his arm around Denise, both smiling warmly. Flynn was staring to the ground, a slight smile on his face.
Rufus looked around at everyone, his arm around Jiya. “I want you to know, all of you…” he stared at Flynn, who looked him in the eye, “even you, dude. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you.”
Flynn stared, and nodded appreciatively.
“But as much as I love you crazy Clockblockers, please don’t take it personally when I say, I am not spending my first night alive in the bunker. Jiya, pack a bag, we’re getting a hotel for the night!” Jiya blushed as Rufus whooped and high-fived Mason, as Denise shook her head laughing to herself. Rufus went around to everyone hugging Mason tightly, hugging Denise with a kiss on the cheek (“Sorry, Agent Christopher” ”No, no apologies, Rufus”), went to hug Flynn before being offered a firm handshake. Then he stood in front of Lucy and Wyatt, who both stood up.
“I meant it. I love you guys, and I can never thank you enough. I’m sorry what happened, what we saw. But I’m so glad to see you guys again.”
Wyatt looked down, touched. Lucy smiled, nodding as she held back tears. Rufus stepped forward and hugged them both tight. He whispered “Guess we have a new Alamo.” Wyatt laughed as he stepped back, and Lucy winked, with a terrible impression “Forget it, Rufus. It’s Chinatown”.
Rufus laughed, nodded, and turned away, grabbing Jiya’s hand as they marched off to pack a bag. Denise stood up, suddenly very tired.
“I hope you all won’t take it personally if I take this as my cue to go home. I suddenly feel an immense desire to kiss my wife and hug my children close. Good night, team.”
“Good night, Denise.” Nods and waves as Denise turned and walked to the door, Mason squeezing her shoulder on the way past. Mason looked towards Flynn, and opened his arms wide.
“Well, I don’t know about you, Mr Turtlenecked Prophet Of Doom, but I feel like going to a bar, buying their cheapest whiskey, and relaxing to some blues. You in, mate?”
Flynn looked up, surprised, looked over at Lucy and Wyatt, then nodded. “Why not. Sounds like a plan.”
Flynn walked over to Marcus, who went to throw an arm around Flynn, until he saw Flynn’s look, and just patted him on the shoulder.
“Maybe leave the diary behind tonight, for once, hey, mate?”
Flynn began walking quicker towards the bunker door, where Denise stood waiting. Denise, Flynn and Mason all walked through, swiftly followed by Rufus carrying a bag and Jiya in Rufus’ hoodie. The door closed on the bunker, where now just sat Wyatt holding his ribs and Lucy dabbing his cut. They looked at each other, the drips of the cloth landing on the floor as they figured what next.
“Lucy…we should talk.”
“Talk because we need to, or because we have to?” Lucy stood up and carried the bowl of hot water with her, placing upon a table facing away from Wyatt.
Wyatt tries to stand but winces from his ribs, sits back down. “Okay, then let’s start small. Let’s talk about what we need to, which is what happened with us.”
“There is no us, Wyatt, you saw them from the future, they didn’t talk to or even look at each other. It’s not like it was coincidence that they split the teams so I was with future me and you got to see what you would be in the future.”
“Of course it isn’t coincidence, but did you ever think maybe it was because it was their opportunity to be honest with themselves?”
Lucy slams down the bowl, water sloshing across the table, as she spins around in anger. “Of course, I fucking noticed. Except I wondered whether it was because it was too painful to talk to each other and you thought it was an opportunity to be a wingman.”
Wyatt staggers up, holding his ribs, and stares at Lucy. “And maybe being too painful to talk to each other is the exact reason why they were trying to be the wingman. Maybe they thought that this is what they were trying to avoid.”
“But you can’t avoid this! It doesn’t matter how many future iterations of us appear, because every single one of them surely has to go through with this argument, because it’s too fucking important not to discuss!”
“What did she tell you?”
Lucy breathes deeply, the adrenaline taking control of her, and looks away.
“How can it matter what she told me when they’re dead?”
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FLASHBACK TO:
Chinatown. Emma is aiming for the open saloon door, waiting. She’s cocked her gun and has several agents next to her priming their weapons. She waits, and prepares for the first glimpse of those idiots who keep on getting in the way,
She sees a flash of black skin and presses upon the lever.
*BANG*
Her gun flew from her hand as she felt the flashing burn of pain upon her fingers. She glances in the direction of the gunshot to see, to her shock, a bedraggled Lucy and bearded Wyatt staring back at her, with another Wyatt and Lucy stood behind them. Before she had time to doublecheck and look, she found herself ducking as Flynn was unleashing volleys of gunfire in her direction. She cowered and ran away, dragging Jessica behind her.
Future Lucy pulled her gun back and turned to the three behind her. “It’s done. We’ve got him back.” Future Lucy stood up, then staggered, falling against Lucy, who pulled her close.
“What’s happening, what’s going on? Talk to me” Lucy whispered as Future Lucy fell into her arms, Lucy placing her down gently. Wyatt turned and leaned forward, only for Future Wyatt to grab him, and pull him away.
“This isn’t our moment. Walk with me” said Future Wyatt, as he dragged Wyatt away.
Lucy held Future Lucy on the floor, her coughing and spluttering a sign of what was to come. “Talk to me, what’s going on? You saved him, you saved Rufus”.
Future Lucy held her hand up, and Lucy realised hr fingers were crumbling slowly, her body breaking down.
“It was always going to be a one way trip. But he was worth it. Rufus too.”
“Rufus, what do you mean, who else did we save?”
“I’d have called her Amy. I never got her back. Maybe you’ll have better luck, You saved Rufus, maybe you can save your sister. Maybe you can save our daughter.”
Lucy stared as she watched Future Lucy’s body crumble, her arms dissipating into dust.
“Lucy, you’ll want to be alone tonight. You won’t talk to him, because you’ll think you can talk to him later. You’ll think there’s time. Don’t make my mistake. He’ll want to be there for you…let him. You know what you feel…”
Lucy leaned against the floor as she felt her future self crumble into nothingness. She was alone.
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“What did she tell you. Lucy?” Wyatt walked towards her.
Lucy closed her eyes, angry. “You don’t get to ask me, Wyatt. I opened up, I fell for you, and I wanted you. And then, she came back, and I had to let you go, and it hurt. It really fucking hurt.”
“Good! Because it hurt me too, Luce. I spent years mourning, I spent days drinking myself into a stupor and waking up hungover, because I couldn’t face the idea of going to bed alone. I couldn’t move on.” Wyatt was shaking, his hands were gesticulating, he was desperate to convey what he was trying to say.
“And all that mattered to you was getting her back! We fought over it, we argued, and you still tried to save her. And you couldn’t save her.” Lucy closed her eyes as tears began to fall
“I couldn’t save her and I tried to move on, don’t you realise that I went from never wanting to get up in the morning to being excited to wake up? I looked forward to coming to work, the missions excited, not because of Rufus or the time travel or the history but because of you!” Wyatt came forward, reaching for her, trying to pull her to him.
“But you didn’t move on, you were still in pain!” Lucy squeezed her eyes closed and pulled back,
“Then what do you think Hollywood was? Why do you think that happened?”
“I think you settled! I think you finally came to terms with losing your wife and liked me enough that you moved on, and you didn’t love me, you loved me because you couldn’t have Jessica!” Lucy’s eyes flew open as the tears came down her cheeks, her heart broken at telling him what she always feared.
Wyatt staggered back, shaking, as if hit in the chest.
“Wyatt, I get it, you think you loved me, but I was just the person who was there when you finally came to terms with losing her. I didn’t want you to die, I stood at your side, because you mattered so much, and I could accept being the replacement, because she was gone, she was dead, and I truly believed you would have been willing to move on. But how could I beat the woman you were willing to die for?” Lucy sat down, her hands to her face as she tried to hold back the tears now flowing down her face.
Wyatt was shaking, his eyes looking everywhere, as if for answers “I love you, Luce. I told you that.”
“You told me after she betrayed you. How do I know you weren’t just caught up in the moment?”
Wyatt stood against a pillar, sliding down until he crumpled against the floor.
“Do you remember when you stood aside, told me to go back to Jess? You even did that terrible Bogart impression? Do you wanna know what I really thought?”
Lucy sat against the table, looking away.
“All I could think was, ask me, Lucy. Ask me, tell me you want me, please. Tell me you love me. Because you’re worth it.”
Lucy stifled a cry and refused to look at him.
“I thought I loved Jessica. But it turned out all I loved was my memory of her. I remembered the good, and not the bad, and in reality, the bad outweighed the good so much that we argued to the point that she supposedly died?”
Lucy kept looking away.
“But there is no bad with you. There might be, one day, but I don’t care, because you are worth the fight. I wanted you to ask me because I wanted an excuse to push away my perfect imagination and instead keep to the woman that made me believe again. Before you, I was dying inside. You gave me life again, Luce. You gave me something to fight for.”
Lucy’s tears began to dry.
“Do you want to know what he said to me? Future me?”
Lucy looked towards Wyatt.
“He said to me that you will doubt. You will hurt, you’ll be in pain, and you’ll want to be alone. He said that you’ll push me away because I will be too scared to lay it all on the line.”
Lucy stared at him.
“He told me, tell her that you loved her even when Jessica came back, and losing her was the biggest mistake you made. Because his biggest mistake was not telling her that.”
Lucy looked away, then looked back.
“You said that I’d want to be alone. She told me that I’d want that too. But she also told me that you’ll want to be there for me. She told me that I would know what I would feel.”
Wyatt looked up towards her, tears pricking at his eyes.
“And what do you feel, Luce?”
“I feel angry. I feel hurt. I feel let down, I feel confused, but I feel one thing more than anything.”
Wyatt swallowed, choking, desperate. He staggered up, holding his ribs.
“What do you feel, Luce?”
Lucy stands up, walks over towards him, and kisses him, pushing him against the pillar, her arms wrapping around him. She looks into his eyes, her eyes glassy with tears.
“I feel like I love and want you, and I want to believe you. I don’t want to be second best. I want to believe you chose me.”
Wyatt kissed her, his tongue parting her lips and tasting her on his lips. He opened his eyes and looked at her.
“I turned down Jessica. I turned down Rittenhouse. I went against Agent Christopher, the bunker, everything, because you are all that matters. I would die a million deaths and offer myself once more just to see you happy.”
Lucy and Wyatt kissed passionately, all the tears and anger melting away, his hands stroking her face, their eyes closed. As her lips parted from his, his eyelids fluttering closed in pleasure, he felt Lucy’s tongue slowly lick up the side of his neck, and he stiffened in anticipation. Her eyes glanced down at his excitement and the warmth in her eyes matched the smile on her lips. Wyatt smirked, his hands caressing under the curve of her ass, and she playfully shrieked as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around him.
Lucy smiled. “Well, soldier, you gonna make me a happy woman?”
Smirking, Wyatt replied “Yes, ma’am…that I am.”
They kissed again, Lucy biting Wyatt’s lip as their tongues played with each other, Lucy digging her nails into his neck as he squeezed her ass. He carried her in his arms, as Lucy began to bite into his neck, moans coming from him as he felt her lips upon his neck. He pushed her against a door, pulling her hair back as he kissed her, a soft moan escaping her lips. She leant her arm down and unlocked the door, Wyatt kicking the door open with his knee and carrying Lucy in. Kicking the door behind him closed, Wyatt crawled onto the bed with Lucy in his arms, pinning her down. Her legs squeezed around his waist, his bruised ribs barely noticeable, high on adrenaline. He held her hands down as he kissed her, before staring her in the eyes. As she smiled, she licked his lips, and smiled as she felt his cock hardening against her. He kissed her roughly, on the lips, and then on the neck, kissing down her body. Her fingers played with his hair as he kissed her stomach, long, playful kisses around her bellybutton. His hands undid her belt and pulled her trousers off, throwing them across the room as she smiled.
Wyatt kissed up her legs, his hands caressing her thighs, before pulling her panties off. Lucy reached over and pulled his shirt off, his abs and muscles glistening in the light, her fingers tracing along her the scars on his chest. He leaned down, spreading her legs apart and kissing her, before entering her with his tongue. A cry escaped her lips as she dug her nails into his back, his tongue entering deep and teasing her, as her body tensed up. He felt the wetness on his tongue as he licked and kissed her clit, her back arching in pleasure. He used his fingers to gently finger her, his other hand reaching underneath her shirt to squeeze her breasts, making her moan.
Lucy rolled on top, pulling her top and bra off, before pulling his trousers off roughly, seeing his hard-on throbbing and to attention. She leaned forward smiling, and returned the favour, licking up his shaft, before kissing the tip. Wyatt gripped the pillow as he felt her lips over his cock, her nails digging into his hips. She pumped his cock a few times, licking the end, before mounting on top, feeling him inside her, gently rocking to the thrust of his cock. Her mind flashed back to Hollywoodland, where it had been gentle, loving, their attempts to get to know each other. Tonight was raw, hard, lustful. She wanted him.
Wyatt’s cock grew and filled Lucy, pounding deep inside as she rode him. Her chin rested on his shoulder, starting slow and then quickening. His fingers gripped her ass, his other hand playing with her nipple as he heard her moan into his ear. He rolled over and held her down, his cock buried deep inside her. He started pounding harder into her, the feel of her wet pussy teasing his balls as he got deeper, his lips against hers. He felt himself close, but held back, teasing her pussy harder until she orgasmed, the feel of her pussy dripping down his hardened cock making him climax inside her. She cried out in pleasure as he moaned softly, his hair brushing against her breast as he kissed her nipples. She pulled his head up and kissed him on the lips, gentle, smiling.
Wyatt rolled onto his side, his head resting against Lucy’s, her fingers caressing his neck. They looked into each other’s eyes, his arm around her body protectively. He coughed, cleared his throat, and stared into her eyes again.
“Luce, I know I keep on saying it, and I’m not saying it to pressure you, but it matters to me that you believe me when I say it. Luce, I-”
“I love you too, Wyatt.”
Wyatt had the biggest grin possible as Lucy snickered, happy. He kissed her, and started absentmindedly playing with her nipple, squeezing it gently to make her moan. She leaned across and started playing with him, a gentle moan from him as she played with his shaft. She jumped up and threw one of his jumpers on, leaving him looking confused.
“Not planning an early night. Need some coffee in preparation.”
Lucy smirked and walked to the kitchen, the gentle patter of her bare feet on the floor. The jumper fell down to her thighs, as she bit her fingernails, smiling to herself. They had an empty bunker to themselves, and they were going to take advantage. She put the pot of coffee on, grabbed her favourite mug, a “My Favourite Historian” one bought by Wyatt. She stood against the counter, smiling, thinking of what she planned to do. Suddenly, she felt her jumper being pushed up, and rough lips against her neck.
“You cannot imagine how many times I’ve wanted to do this when I entered this kitchen” whispered into her ear, as she felt her cheeks parted and Wyatt enter roughly inside. She gripped the counter, pushing back against so he went deeper, his cock throbbing inside her. He pulled her hair back as he bit into her neck, a cry of pleasure from her. If earlier was raw, this was animalistic. She felt him fuck her hard from behind, the pounding of his cock deep inside her. He lifted her up in his arms as he climaxed inside her, her pussy filled by his cum. She was bent over the counter, his lips kissing her neck, as he gently exited her. She stood up and leaned back into his arms, his love radiating off him.
“For that, mister, you can make the coffee.” She turned and smiled at him, her fingers brushing against his cock.
“Whatever you say…ma’am.” Smirk.
As Lucy sat against the counter, wrapped under her new jumper, she watched Wyatt make coffee, his tight buttcheeks teasing her, her finger tracing across her lip. She began to think of her next idea when she heard the slam of a door.
“But I wanted to have a toast to Rufus…”
“You did, with seventeen people, you drank three bottles of whiskey because you wanted to celebrate. Why do you think I’m having to carry you?”
Lucy turned around to see Flynn carrying a very drunk Mason on his shoulders come around the corner. They both stopped, in shock.
Mason looked up, his eyes glassy and unable to focus. He pointed at Lucy.
“I like you, Lucy. You’re lovely. When did you get a new jumper?”
Mason looked at Flynn and followed his eyes to Wyatt stood there with Lucy’s cup and a pot of coffee. And nothing else.
“Wyatt…your penis is peeking out from under your coffee. I’d like some. Coffee, not penis.” Flynn’s eyes began to roll as Mason began to giggle to himself.
“I’m assuming, Wyatt, that there will be a spare bed tonight to put this fool into?”
Wyatt coughed, moved the pot down slightly, and looked at Lucy, who looked at him as if to say “Choose your next words carefully.”
“With the permission of Miss Preston, I shall be vacating my bed tonight, which will be available for Mason…”
Flynn and Wyatt looked at Lucy for permission.
“Put Mason to bed, Flynn, thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight Lucy, Wyatt.”
“GOODNIGHT, Miss Preston!! Goodnight, Naked Coffee Pourer! Goodnight Mr Michaelangelo Collum…”
Flynn lifted Mason into his arms, and frowned. “Did you seriously use the Latin phrase for neck to refer to me as Mr Turtleneck?”
“…maybe.” Flynn walked off to put Mason to sleep.
Lucy looked over at Wyatt, who was grimacing.
“You okay?”
“Mmm, yeah, I think I just held the coffee pot a little closer than expected. I think he’ll need a little bit of TLC, Ma’am?”
Lucy looked in amazement.
“You are so lucky I love you, sweetheart.”
Wyatt smiled, laughed and walked over, leaning down and picking up Lucy in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck. He gently kissed her lips, as she smiled up at him.
“I’m hoping this won’t be the last I get to carry you in my arms over the threshold to our bedroom.”
“Play your cards right, who knows what time will tell?”
Wyatt carried Lucy, the woman he loved, out of the kitchen, the sounds of a drunken Mason in the background singing happily. Rufus was alive, and tonight was a victory for them all.
