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December 24, 2023
The Barracks
The wind howled outside, rattling the WW2 era windows that looked out onto the snow-covered mountaintops. After Rittenhouse chased them out of the Bunker, they moved to the Barracks. A natural cavern in the Rocky Mountains converted into a secret Army barracks by the government in the spring of 1939. They called this place home, despite the damp walls and the cold that seeped in through the roughhewn stone walls even in the middle of summer.
“Just one more tweak,” Mason assured the woman standing vigil over his shoulder.
Jiya gritted her teeth. “Time’s running out.”
“Patience, young Padawan,” he replied as he always did.
“I regret getting you to watch those movies.” She didn’t, not really. In the darkest nights after losing Rufus, Mason stayed by her side. Whether that meant watching movies until the sun rose or guarding her back on several ill-advised missions to the past, he never wavered.
He pushed his glasses to the top of his head. “This time will be different. I promise. We’ve been going about it the wrong way. I don’t know why I didn’t see it earlier.”
She bent down, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “There’s only the three of us left now and enough blame to go around.”
He turned in his seat and stood, facing her. “You couldn’t have known what he planned.”
She fidgeted with a jagged part of her thumbnail. “Flynn tried to tell us. We dismissed him. Chalked it up to unrequited love.”
“Jiya,” Mason said, a fond, familiar chuckle in his voice, “they sank the Titanic to abduct Lucy. Nobody saw that coming. Not even Flynn.” He pulled her in, hugging her. “At least we got her back before it was too late.”
She held tight. “Next time we might not be so lucky.”
“Which is why this one last mission.”
“Save Rufus, save the world?”
He stepped back, squeezing her hands. “That’s when it all went wrong. The team changed after we lost him. The lines blurred and the unthinkable became our history.”
Hand in hand, they turned to face the storm. Hard to believe that right now Wyatt was leading a team of Rittenhouse agents up the mountain, but Lucy’d barely escaped with the information. They’d found the team’s position and the only remaining Lifeboat. It wouldn’t be long before they descended on the barracks.
“Are you sure you want to stay behind?” Jiya stared at the blinding swirl in front of them.
Mason dragged in a heavy breath. “Someone must. We can’t take the risk.”
“I know. I just wish…”
“None of us survive this.” He wiped her tears away with a scarred knuckle. “We sacrifice for a better world.”
Jiya straightened, standing taller, resolute. “A better world.”
Lucy joined them. “All the charges are set. We good to go here?”
“Good to go.” Mason moved to retrieve the technology and handed it over. “You burned the journal?”
“I did.” Lucy slipped the zip drive containing the update to the Lifeboat into the pocket of Flynn’s leather jacket. “You could come with us.”
“No. I couldn’t, and you both know it.” He reached for their hands, linking the three of them. “Rittenhouse can’t get ahold of any of this. Seven years of informants and mission plans, the safe houses we stayed in, the routes we traveled, they could wreak havoc on the timeline.”
All the arguments had been made. They’d said their goodbyes. They knew what they needed to do. Success or failure, none of them would ever know.
The perimeter alarm sounded.
Jiya released their hands. “It’s time.”
Lucy nodded and pulled Mason in for one last hug. “If this works, it’ll be a miracle.”
Smiling, he looked at both the women he’d come to admire. “Christmas is a time for miracles.”
~*~
December 24th, 2018
The Bunker
“I remember Houdini, Lucy.” Flynn’s purr curled itself around her neck and slithered down her collarbone. Chills chased her nerves, settling in the pit of her stomach, dread and desire a coiling flame.
“Not tonight.” Shrugging him off, she stalked to the sink and flipped on the faucet, needing distance. “I don’t have the energy to play this game with you.”
“It’s not a game and you know it.” His voice quiet, he stilled, allowing her the space between them. Knowing she needed to lash out. It’d be easy enough to provoke her, she’d hated him for so long. Better she focused her anger on him than one of the others.
Times like these, friendships were fragile, needing care and protection.
She grabbed a dirty coffee mug, drowning it in the filling sink. “Do you want to know what I know?” She scrubbed at the muddy brown ring of stains. “I know we left our friend to be buried by strangers in the 19th century. I know Rufus was the best of us and he’s dead. He’s dead and you’re playing games.”
He leaned forward, gripping the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “It’s not a damn game, Lucy. When are you gonna figure out I—”
An arc of glittering droplets flung out and she whirled around, smashing the mug. The sound of the shattering pieces bounced off the walls of the empty bunker. “Enough! I’ve had as much of your bullshit as I can handle.”
He hadn’t set out to confess, but in for a penny, in for a pound. “I love you, Lucy Preston.”
“Get away from me. Right now.” Fingers curling at her side. “Or I swear by all that’s holy I can’t be held accountable for what happens after.”
Flynn let go of the chair. An alarm blaring in the back of his brain told him this was a very bad idea, that the situation might be getting away from him, but his own guilt and grief muddled the lines, so he pushed back.
“Why? Because I love you?”
She prowled forward, sneering, “After everything you’ve done in the name of love, I don’t think you’re capable.”
She stopped, the chair between them.
He stared down, heart in a vise. “I fell in love with you because you believed I could be the man I was before Rittenhouse.”
She let out a cruel laugh and despised herself. “That man is dead.”
The statement smacked him in the face harder than she ever could.
So of course, being Garcia Flynn, he reacted. Poorly.
“Tell yourself whatever you need, Lucy.” He smirked, choking on the heartbreak of her words. “I know the truth.”
The smirk pushed her over the edge.
“You want the truth?” Her body vibrated with unspent energy; she knew just where to aim it. “You’re a dumpster fire on your best day and on your worst, I consider shooting you and leaving your body alongside a forgotten road. I could never love a man like you.”
She wanted to stop herself. Wanted to scream that she didn’t mean it.
“No, of course not. Not Princess Preston. She only deserves the best.” They were both too far gone to stop now. Two boulders, out of control and careening towards collision. “At least you won’t have to listen to soldier boy screwing his wife anymore.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to shove them back in.
She grabbed the chair and whipped into the wall. It exploded into splinters. “Fuck you.”
“We did that already, darling. I know you remember.” He closed the gap, snaking his arm around her waist. He walked their bodies across the room, pressing her back into the fridge, nibbling his way up her neck. His hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning them above her head. Lips brushing her earlobe, he whispered, “You were insatiable.”
His mouth slanted over hers and her heart warred with her head. Images of their entwined bodies assailed her. How he’d torn her clothing in their rush of passion. The sight of him as she fell to her knees. Pushing him to the precipice. Finally giving in after denying their attraction.
Her body remembered and she allowed this fiery claiming, molding to the hard length of him, craving one more night. She courted danger, letting him this close. His hands, flames burning away what remained of her sanity. She wanted him, but Garcia Flynn was not a man to be trusted. It took all her willpower, but she tore away from his searing kiss.
Beyond reason, she wanted to hurt him for reminding her of emotions better left buried in 1893.
Rebuttoning her shirt, she leveled an icy glare that belied the raging wildfire inside her.
“It should have been you.”
~*~
“Jesus, Lucy. No wonder he—” Jiya stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
“I’m the reason he sacrificed himself trying to save Rufus.” Lucy gave her a sad, worn smile, she’d regretted that night for so long. “I’ve known it even if I never said it out loud.”
A crashing clatter sounded from the other room; they ducked behind the wall. “Well, that explains why they didn’t hear the Lifeboat coming.”
“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem. You were out getting understandably drunk with Mason and Agent Christopher.” Christmas ornaments shattered against metal walls. “Flynn and I were otherwise occupied.”
She replied with a quirk of her lips, “Yes, but you didn’t mention you were busy destroying the bunker.”
“Among other things.” Lucy glanced at the darkened time machine. “About that.”
“About what? The fact that you and Flynn had a naughty liaison at the World’s Fair?” Jiya gave her a knowing wink. “About time you admitted it.”
A heavy thump followed by a long scrape echoed through the space and Lucy remembered how Flynn tumbled over the back of the couch and almost broke the coffee table.
“It wasn’t just the once.” The television smashed to the ground. “We were both grieving, and we made terrible decisions. One thing leads to another and—”
The noise in the other room turned decidedly non-violent.
“None of us handled Rufus’ death well.” Jiya threw an arm over her shoulder and attempted to lighten the mood. “Though, I can’t say I’m overly surprised. I saw the way you two looked at each other. I always wondered what happened to the TV. I assumed the bunker changed during one of our forays into the past when really it was the two of you.”
Rueful, Lucy chuckled. “Nothing ever was easy between us, that’s for sure. Looking back now, I wish I would’ve loved him while we both still had the chance. But the way we started and the decisions we made, we never stood a chance.”
“I’m so sorry.” She grabbed her hand, reassuring her. “But we’re here to fix it. We’ll give the update to Connor and Denise, and they’ll go back and put everything right again.”
The two women hugged and wiped their tears as the pain started. Down the hallway, they heard the opening of the bunker door.
Lucy stood and pulled her closest friend up behind her. “Come on. It’s time.”
~*~
Mason put a very drunk Jiya to bed while Lucy and Agent Christopher discussed Wyatt and how it wasn’t just Jess who worked for Rittenhouse. The couple would need to be neutralized as soon as possible. The Logans had been recruited after the team saved Reagan. Wyatt knew the entire time that his wife was alive.
Carol Preston masterminded that little surprise, working to peel off every one of her daughter’s allies until she had no choice but surrender. Her mother underestimated her loyalty to the family she’d found in this bunker. Instead of waving the white flag, that very same daughter infiltrated Rittenhouse and spent the last two years undercover. She would not let any of her friends die again.
There’d be no betrayal next time.
Lucy righted the sofa and swept up the colored shards of ornaments glinting off the tangle of Christmas lights.
Jiya was spending her last moments with Connor waiting for the update that would allow him and Agent Christopher to travel back to the same point in history a second time.
A lightning bolt shot through her brain and she whimpered, curling into the fetal position as the agony increased.
It wouldn’t be long now.
At least she was home.
“Lucy?” She opened her eyes and saw Flynn crouching in front of her. “But I just left you—” He brushed back a lock of her hair. “It’s you.”
“It’s me.”
She tried to sit up, but Flynn stopped her, a cool hand on her forehead. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”
He looked so helpless, his fingertips brushing across her cheeks. “There’s nothing.”
“There must be something.” A cough wracked her shivering body, and he moved so fast. Lifting her. Cradling her head against his chest. She cried in thankfulness. “You crossed into your own timeline. Why would you do that?”
She reached up, weak, and he pressed her palm against his lips. “I didn’t mean it. What I said that night. Earlier, I mean.”
“Shh, I know. I’ve always known.” She felt his breath through her fingers, a tender caress. “I provoked you and we both went too far. You were so angry and needed someone to blame or you’d bottle it up until you exploded. It couldn’t be any of the rest, so, well?” She felt his shrug more than saw it. “You already hated me.”
“I never hated you.” She coughed again and a stabbing pain blinded her.
“Why are you still here?” He started to stand, to carry her to the Lifeboat. “You’ve gotta go back.”
“I can’t.” He studied her face and she saw a hundred denials written in his eyes. She gave him a small shake of her head. “We have to end the timeline.”
Understanding followed by sorrow rippled over his expression and she watched as he locked it away.
“Then I’m not leaving.” Settling them back down onto the couch, Flynn gave her a trademark grin. “You’re wearing my jacket. In some historical periods that means something.”
“Are you asking me to go steady?” she attempted to quip, but it came out like gravel. “You should know…” Another excruciating bolt screamed through every nerve ending and robbed her of speech, his arms a gentle heaven through the worst of it.
His face swam into view, there were tears in his eyes. “Lucia, my light, save your strength.”
“I need to say this.” She tried to sit up and he helped her. She placed a hand over his heart, and he covered it with his. “You’re a good man. I’m sorry I ever made you feel otherwise.”
~*~
“I’ve got this, Jiya, please.” Mason caught her as she slumped against the computer console and helped her sit. “The update’s almost ready and Denise is working out the final logistics. You and Lucy need to go back.”
“There’s nothing to go back to. You blew up the side of a mountain. Our home,” she added in explanation. She clutched at his hand as another shard of lightning shrieked through her head. “I’m coming with you. I need to see him one last time.”
He grunted his disapproval, pushing up from the computer. “Alright. Well then. If you’re going to come with us, let’s get you to the Lifeboat and buckled in. You can barely stand let alone walk. A watched computer never updates anyway.”
“I need to say goodbye to Lucy.”
He helped her over to the demolished living room and sat her down on the coffee table. The two women joined hands, bending their heads together, their foreheads touching.
“It’s been a wild ride.”
Jiya gave a weak chuckle. “You could say that again.”
“Please don’t make me,” Lucy said, her voice fragile. Flynn held her closer. “Just think of the hot showers.”
A tear slipped down. “And fresh vegetables.”
“Oh, I’d kill for some Brussels sprouts.” She crumpled against the man holding her up. “This will save them.”
“Yes. It will.” Jiya leaned forward, kissing her on the cheek.
Flynn carried Lucy over and together they watched as the Lifeboat disappeared. The bunker settled to silence around them, the pipes that froze in the winter and the draft that leached in through the old metal walls, the low humming of the computer console and the random unexplained creaks. It all fell away until it was just the two of them. Just Lucy Preston and Garcia Flynn.
She found herself glad that when the end came, she was here, in the bunker with the one man she missed every day since he died.
“I love you, Garcia.”
“I love you too.” He leaned down, his lips tracing over hers. “Rest now. When you wake, this will be nothing but a bad dream.”
~*~
December 25th, 2018
The Bunker
Jiya and Rufus snuggled on the uncomfortable couch, up early like children peeking through the rail of the stairwell. It’s a Wonderful Life played on the TV, a Christmas tree on one side and Diwali lights on the other.
She curled herself closer, twining their fingers under the old Afghan. “Do we really have to wait for the others?”
Rufus leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Well, I suppose I could let you open one present early.”
“Oh yay! Oh yay! Oh yay!” She squealed in joy and clapped her hands.
She started to jump up and his lips convinced her to stay seated. “I get to choose which one though.”
She pouted as he made a big show of figuring out which gift he wanted to give her first, but finally settled on a small square topped with a bright red bow. Presenting it to her with a bow and a flourish, he bounced in anticipation of her reaction.
“I picked it up in 1981 so it’s vintage!”
Jiya tore open the wrapping and her eyes widened. “You got me an original Rubix Cube? Oh Rufus, it’s perfect! I love it so much.” She jumped up and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him with all her might.
“There’s a another present inside once you solve it.”
“Hold the phone.” She placed a hand on his forehead. “You defaced a—for a—I just…I don’t know what.”
As she stood there, mouth gaping open, Rufus laughed, and the happy sound filled the entire bunker. Flynn banged on the wall and they both collapsed, smothering each other’s giggles.
“You’re worth more than any mint condition toy.”
Jiya cuddled into his side. “I love you too, Rufus Carlin.”
~*~
Lucy poked her head from under the covers. “It’s Christmas, Flynn. Be nice!”
“It’s 5:30 in the morning. I don’t care what day of the year it is.” He turned to face her and pulled the covers over their heads. In between nibbling kisses, he whispered, “It’s our first Christmas together.”
“You say first as if you would like there to be more.” She tucked her cold toes in between his calves.
He flinched in shock. “Not if you keep up with that behavior.”
They lingered. For two years, they danced around each other, and it felt glorious to revel in this slice of quiet. For the first time since Rittenhouse entered their lives, they allowed themselves to hope.
The smell of coffee wandered in and coaxed them from their circle of warmth. Jiya and Rufus met them in the kitchen and hauled them into the living room. They exchanged presents and watched old movies all morning. They cooked all afternoon while singing carols and sharing a never-ending bottle of wine. Agent Christopher brought Michelle to the bunker for the first time and Mason showed up later with a bottle of whiskey older than everyone in the room.
As they gathered around the kitchen tables, Mason raised his glass to this misfit family. “If you would’ve told me two years ago that the seven of us would be sharing a holiday meal together, I would have laughed myself silly. And then asked for whatever drugs you were smoking.”
“Connor,” Agent Christopher censured, “Please. It’s the holidays.”
“I’m so sorry to offend your…” He raised an eyebrow. “Sensibilities. May I continue?”
She gave him a smirking nod.
“Thank you. As I was saying. Wait. What was I saying?”
The team burst into laughter and when he caught the thought again, he shushed them. “Back then I would have holed up in my penthouse drinking this very old, very expensive bottle of whiskey alone on a night that should be filled with family. Looking around these tables, I know now what my life lacked.”
He tilted his glass. “These years have not been easy, and we have faced tragedy along the way, people whose sacrifices will reverberate for years to come. All of us have lost, but we are still here. Fighting on the right side of history. Thank you for becoming my family. My life is richer with you in it. Happy holidays.”
~*~
They cheersed and couples kissed, as couples do. The kisses weren’t special. They weren’t a first kiss with that spring blush of love. They weren’t passionate or all-consuming or the kinds of kisses the romantics write poems about. They weren’t epic or earth-shattering or kisses that tasted of goodbye.
They were just ordinary kisses. One of a hundred given or received that Christmas night.
But aren’t those the best ones?
The kisses we take for granted. The everyday kisses. The I’ll see you later kisses. The I miss you when you’re not around, just kiss me for the sake of kissing me kisses.
The kisses the team never got to share.
Until now.
I should know. I’ve been here, silent, observant. Waiting.
For the next mission.
The next timeline.
I remember them all.