Girl Talk
By: MajorSam

Set after 2x07

Author's Notes: I actually wrote this fic ages ago. it was entirely inspired by seeing Susanna Thompson, aka Carol Preston in real life. She's so beautiful! Sigh. Funny to think how intimidating she is on screen, and how much I loathe her character, when she's actually so sweet, haha. Anyways, I got all fired up to write a Carol story, which I realized I never had. Thanks to my crack team of PeachCheetah with a dash of Deelightful76, I was flush with various ideas.

Lucy supposed she shouldn't have been all that surprised. At this point could she really put anything past Carol Preston? It seemed not.

Lucy had had her suspicions from the moment she'd heard the time and location of their next jump.

December 16, 1938. The date didn't mean much to most people, even to historians. But it meant something to Lucy.

It was the first ever Gridiron Widows event, devised and hosted by Eleanor Roosevelt herself. It was a response to the annual Gridiron Club dinner for journalists. The event was exclusive, inviting only special representatives from major newspapers, new services, magazines and broadcast networks to meet with the President, and other political representatives. Any and all females were banned. So Eleanor, in true Eleanor fashion, had decided to create an event of her own inviting all the left-behind wives, as well as female journalists, news workers and politicians. It wasn't necessarily a world-changing event, wasn't on the list of the First Lady's greatest accomplishments and contributions, of which there were many. But it was an event that Lucy, in awe of the great woman from the first time she'd heard about her, had always loved.

She could only imagine what Rittenhouse would want to do to disrupt it. If they really wanted to make a different to history, they would go to the true Gridiron event that year and take out President Roosevelt and the other top figures attending. Lucy believed that eliminating Eleanor Roosevelt would certainly negatively impact history, but Rittenhouse was getting bigger and bolder. They should be going for the President, not his wife. What was their angle?

Lucy wondered and wondered, all through their arrival in Washington, DC, all through acquiring appropriate clothes, all through scoping out the area as subtly as possible. She'd wondered right up to the moment a hand tapped on her shoulder. She whirled around, cursing herself for being so distracted she'd let a Rittenhouse agent walk right up to her.

Only it wasn't an agent. Or maybe it was, and they just had a very convincing outfit and accent.

"Miss Preston?" the young man said. He could barely be 18 and still looked like a boy.

"Umm..."

"I hope I'm not too late," he said in a rush, looking very worried. "Here's your stuff." He held up a package.

"Uhh..."

"It's all there, well and good, all paid for. Have a good day then."

With no further ado he shoved the large envelope into her hands and took off.

She regarded it warily, wishing she hadn't split up from Rufus and Wyatt. What if it was a bomb? Wyatt would probably be able to tell. He'd know what to do. He was so good in these types of situations. Terrible at his personal life and relationships, but good in the field. She sighed and brought the package up to her ears. Feeling silly, she shook it lightly. Only the sound of shuffling papers hit her ear. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she carefully started to peel it open. If Rittenhouse was going to take her out, this isn't how they would do it. Right?

She was proven correct.

Inside was an invitation and required documentation to attend the Gridiron Widow's event. Despite herself, Lucy's heartrate quickened. She could be there, with all those amazing, powerful, forward thinking women, and one of her greatest idols. She could be amongst them, daring to satirize the most powerful men in the country, changing mindsets and making a difference just by being in the same room together. Just as she was thinking she would need a new outfit she heard her name being called from behind. She whirled around, cursing herself for getting so distracted once again, but sighed in relief as she saw Wyatt's blue eyes frowning at her.

"What had you so focused?"

"Sorry," she shook her head to clear her thoughts. "I just had a surprise delivery."

"How so?"

His frown deepened as she told the story. "It's a trap," he surmised. "It has to be."

"Well-"

"Lucy, it's obvious. Rufus and I literally can't be in there to back you up. They're separating us."

"For what purpose?"

"How should I know? They're evil wackos, who knows what their endgame is. But in this case, it's not going to be good for you."

"So, what, I just ignore this invite? If they're up to something, I have to be in there. I'm the only who can stop them."

Wyatt's face was stormy as he contemplated her words.

"Maybe you can still get in too," Lucy suggested. "The event is for women, but there still has to be male staff, right? Not in the room, per se, but the White House itself has hundreds of employees."

"So we just sneak into the most secure building in the city, if not country?"

"Sure," she shrugged "Why not? It's what we do." She started peering down the street, already searching for clothing shops to find something more befitting the evening's party. She spotted one with potential surprisingly fast. "You guys are great at this. You'll be fine." Her hand rose as if to pat him on the shoulder, but she stopped herself, awkwardly bringing it back down. She hadn't touched him since he'd gotten The Text. He hadn't touched her, either. Not since...

The historian closed her eyes, banishing the thoughts that wanted to bubble into consciousness. She would not go there. Not on a mission. Not ever, if she could help it. It did no good to dwell, however her heart tugged at her to.

She cleared her throat. "I'll step out to go to the bathroom or something and try to meet up with you. If not, meet back at the Lifeboat after the party is over."

"And if something goes wrong?"

"We improvise. As always."

"Make it up as we go?"

She closed her eyes again, wishing he hadn't said it, that his eyes hadn't been so earnest and concerned as he called her back to a time before... everything.

"See you on the inside," she said shortly, and walked away.

Lucy hoped that, over time, she would get used to meeting the people she'd dedicated her life to studying. So far it hadn't happened. As she approached the White House, passing security check after security check, the butterflies in her stomach grew worse. She nervously smoothed down the front of her purple silk gown.

Eleanor freaking Roosevelt.

She was going to write a book about her, one day. She'd always planned to. It had been her dream from day one. She'd entertained the thought of jumping in right away but had decided instead to test the writing waters with other subjects. She wanted to improve her craft and get some recognition before dedicating herself to one of her greatest passions.

A passion she was about to meet. In the flesh. Holy crap! She couldn't hold back a giggle as she got closer and closer. It garnered a few strange looks from the women around her, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Rittenhouse trap or not, she was excited, and she couldn't help it. Travelling through time fighting a psychotic cult was an extremely difficult way to live, so she'd damn well enjoy the good parts of it when she could. The rest of the entrance was a whirlwind of greetings and welcomes until suddenly she was in a grand room, in front of Eleanor Roosevelt herself. She would later be dubbed "The First Lady of the World." One of the most respected figures, not just women, of the 20th century. Lucy's mouth parted, awe and respect pouring out from shining eyes. She was gathering her courage to speak when the woman beat her to it.

"Miss Preston!" she beamed.

Lucy's words caught in her throat. What… who… how…

"Oh Lucy," the First Lady continued. "I've heard so much about you. I'm just delighted to meet you."

"You… you have?" Lucy smiled faintly. "You are?"

"Oh yes. Your mother is just so proud of you."

Lucy's heart skipped a beat then turned cold, her body freezing like she'd been dropped in a pool of ice. "My mother?"

"Oh yes," Eleanor continued to beam. "Carol is just-" she cut off as she looked over Lucy's shoulder at someone, a hand rising to beckon them forehead. "Well speak of the devil!"

A hand laid heavily on Lucy's shoulders. She could physically feel tendrils of frost leech into her skin and flow through her veins.

"Lucy! So glad you made it!"

Lucy woodenly turned around. And there she was. Carol Preston. The Queen Bee of Rittenhouse, evil cult leader and kidnapper of her own child, resplendently dressed and grinning from ear to ear. When Lucy didn't respond the hand still on her shoulder tightened like a vice.

"Don't you have anything to say to your mother, dear?"

Lucy knew that tone of voice. Come on, darling. Be nice, darling. These people are important. Play along. It'll be good for you. She'd been hearing it since she was a child, never realizing that her mother was grooming her, manipulating her life, even then. Setting her on the "right" path. She knew what would happen next.

Sure enough, after another few moments of stony silence, Carol delicately raised a single eyebrow. She was in trouble now.

"Hello, mother," she finally grated out. "What an unexpected surprise."

Carol laughed airily and grabbed Lucy's other shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. Lucy stiffened even further, hands hanging at her sides.

"Don't mind her," Carol shook her head at Eleanor as she pulled back. "She gets awestruck, the silly girl. She's just so pleased to meet you."

That last part, at least, was correct. She was meeting her hero. But, of course, the moment was now forever ruined by the presence of her mother. What the hell was really going on here?

"Oh don't fret," Eleanor kindly responded. "I'm just a fellow woman, here to enjoy some good conversation with other women of wit and intelligence."

"Well I'll do my best to provide such," Lucy smiled, thankful to finally manage a full sentence in front of her hero.

"I'm sure you will. But if you'll please excuse me for a moment."

"Of course." Lucy fought the urge to curtsy as Mrs. Roosevelt strode off to greet another guest.

The instant Eleanor was otherwise engaged, Carol grabbed Lucy's arm and hustled her into a corner.

"Good lord, Lucy, could you have handled that any worse?"

"What the hell," Lucy spat back. "What are you doing here? What am I doing here? I swear to God, I will not take any part in whatever sick agenda you have here. You know how much I love Eleanor Roosevelt. You of all people… how could you do this? How?" Lucy was mortified to feel herself welling up, her voice catching. She couldn't even try to calculate how many hours she and Carol had spent discussing Eleanor. It had been one of their strongest bonds, their shared passion for the pioneering woman. The times spent discussing her views and actions on women's rights, youth rights, rights for people of colour, veterans and more. Those times were some of Lucy's most precious memories of her mother. Times where Carol forgot to lecture her or coach her. They were just two people, excited to talk about another, awesome one. To use that knowledge of Lucy's passion, and lure her in like this was a betrayal of the deepest level. Alice Paul had already been erased. As had countless others. She couldn't lose Eleanor Roosevelt.

"No, Lucy, no!" Carol protested, aghast. "I could never do that to you!"

It was Lucy's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? You can kidnap me and hold me against my will for six weeks, but this is where you draw the line?"

Carol's eyes narrowed and her eyes went cold. For a second Lucy felt like a child again, scared of her mother as she awaited a scolding. Or worse. Those six weeks…

"You know what Eleanor means to me," her mother said coolly. "To us."

"I thought I did."

"Will you just be quiet for a moment and let me speak?" her mother's eyes sparked, fiery heat thawing the ice. "I did this for us, Lucy."

Both hands were placed on the daughter's shoulders, but this time they were soft, soothing. "Things have been a little crazy, lately, and, well, I thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together. To have a little fun. We both love Eleanor so much, so I thought-"

"What, Mother?" Lucy was incredulous. "You thought we could have a little fangirl date and everything would be alright? A bit of girl talk and everything is fine?"

"I know it won't be that easy, but it could be a start to-"

"No," Lucy shrugged off her mother's hands. "Unless you're here to tell me you're renouncing all the Rittenhouse bullshit then no, this cannot be the start of anything."

"Oh Lucy," Carol rolled her eyes. "Always so dramatic."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lucy tried to keep her voice in check, aware she couldn't start screaming like she wanted to in the middle of a private White House event. "But when your mother is the head of a maniacal cult trying to destroy time, things tend to be pretty dramatic."

"You know that's not what we are," Carol hissed.

"No, actually, I don't. I think that's exactly what you are. So stop with these delusions that you're somehow going to win me over and convince me to join you. It's never going to happen."

"You can never say no to your mother," Carol gloated. "You can't deny your legacy."

The knife that had pierced through Lucy's heart upon learning the truth about her mother had been twisting, burrowing further and further every day since. There had been a hope, a dream, that maybe Carol herself was being manipulated, that she was actually good, that she could come back to the right side of history. After the six weeks… Lucy had lost hope. This ridiculous plan finally cemented the sad truth. There was no saving her. Carol Preston would not be redeemed. She was Rittenhouse through and through, and she would never stop trying to get Lucy to claim her title as Rittenhouse Royalty.

Lucy felt physically ill. But she knew she had to do what needed to be done. Her words were quiet, but resolute.

"Maybe I couldn't say no to my mother, back when I was young. Ignorant. Weak. But you? You're not my mother."

Carol went pale.

"You're not," Lucy continued, sadly. "Mother's don't do this to their children. They don't manipulate them. Don't shape their lives to fit their own plans. Don't kidnap them. Don't threaten them. Don't try to brainwash or seduce them into evil deeds. And that's what you do, Carol. Time and time again. I realize now it's never going to stop,"

"Lucy…"

"But I'm not going to stop either," Lucy straightened her shoulders, stood tall. "So long as I'm alive and breathing I will fight you. I will stop you."

"With your merry band of misfits?" Carol sniffed, haughty and superior.

"Yes," Lucy nodded proudly. "With my team. Whatever you try, wherever, whenever you go, we will be there, we will fight you, and one day, we will win. I promise you that."

Any faux warmth disappeared from the older woman's eyes. "How could you possibly win?" she sneered. "Your pathetic soldier couldn't even kill me when he was standing right in front of me."

Lucy's face drained of colour. "What?"

Carol smirked. "Oh, did he forget to mention that?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember? Your oh-so-caring boss sent him into Rittenhouse headquarters all alone. He managed to cause quite a ruckus, I'll give him that, but when it came down to the critical moment…" She backed Lucy up against the wall, only an inch taller but making Lucy feel like she was tiny. "The stupid man didn't take the shot. He couldn't do it. Big bad Delta Force didn't have the stomach to shoot an unarmed enemy. How do you expect to win a war when you've surrounded yourself with sad, weak people?"

"He's not weak."

Carol laughed. "Oh honey, how pitiful are you? Tell me, how long did it take for him to run back into his wife's arms?"

Lucy felt a chill. "What do you know about Jessica?"

"You realize you were nothing more than a placeholder for her, right? Merely the closest thing, the most convenient thing, to pass the time until he got her back?"

"He… he was ready to move on," she protested feebly. "Jessica was just bad timing."

"Bad timing," Carol laughed again. "For the time travellers. Oh, the irony. You keep telling yourself that, Lucy."

If the mother had patted her daughter on the head, she couldn't have been more condescending.

"Don't mistake his not shooting me for anything other than what it was. A stupid sense of misplaced loyalty, or whatever his damn fool, small-minded brain convinces itself into believing. The man never loved you, and never will." She loomed over Lucy and squinted down at her. "If some idiotic hope is keeping you on the team, keeping you recklessly throwing yourself into danger, well," she shook her head. "I'm even more disappointed in you than ever before. And that's saying a lot."

Lucy shrank further into the wall, eyes welling up again. Goddamn her. Goddamn Carol Preston, preying on every fear and doubt and insecurity Lucy had. Why did she still care when her mother was disappointed in her? Why did it always hurt so much?

Why hadn't Wyatt taken the shot?

What would have happened if he had?

There was no way to answer those questions tonight. There was no real way to respond to Carol, either. What did she even want Lucy to say? Or did she not want words. Did she just want to see Lucy crumble? To finally break her like she thought she had in those six weeks?

No. Not there. Not that night. Not with Eleanor damn Roosevelt in the room.

Lucy set her jaw and stood up, meeting her mother's eyes. Carol glared. Lucy glared back. After several tense moments, Lucy lifted her chin high. Her voice wavered but she didn't back down. "I'm going to go, now, and meet some of the amazing women in this room. Whatever reasons brought me here, I'm going to enjoy myself. You can stay, or slink back to the hole you came from. I don't care."

She turned her heel and walked away before she could be tempted to say anything more. A strange combination of rage and sadness was boiling inside of her, unbalancing her, her mind tilting and swirling like she was high. She needed space from Carol, a few minutes to breathe, and a drink. Or five. It was as she was sipping her third Gin Rickey, burying herself in conversation so she couldn't think about her mother's words, that she remembered she was supposed to sneak out at some point. Quickly finishing up the discussion she was having with a journalist, she slipped out.

"Lucy!"

She nearly jumped out of her skin as Wyatt cried out in relief from behind a curtain. What was it with people surprising her today?

"What happened?" he asked, emerging from the curtain into view. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

His gaze swept over her, cataloguing her from head to toe. She knew he was just looking for injuries but damnit if his eyes on her didn't make her warm. Or maybe it was the gin. Sure, of course.

The gin.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Nothing is going on except Hurricane Carol."

"Hurricane?" he frowned. "You didn't mention a-"

"My mother." The way she said it, the word could have been a filthy curse.

Wyatt's eyes widened. "Oh…"

"Yeah."

"And what exactly is she here for?"

"Me."

In an instant, Wyatt's eyes turned almost black. "No." Suddenly he was crowding her, grabbing her arms, breaking the unspoken no-touching rule with gusto. "There is no way in hell she's taking you again." Before she knew what was happening, he was bodily ushering her down the hall.

"Wait, what? Wyatt-"

"We're leaving right now. Rufus is close by, but there's no time to get him. He'll realize we're gone soon and meet us at the lifeboat."

"No! Wyatt, wait, will you just… Wyatt, stop!"

"She's not getting you this time," he swore fiercely, speeding up rather than slowing down.

"That's not what I meant!" Lucy tried to dig in her feet, but her heels wouldn't allow it. "She's not here to take me again. Wyatt, stop!"

Her words finally hit him, his long stride slowing cautiously before finally stopping. His hands gripped her forearms and he stared at her intensely.

"She's not here to abduct you again?"

Lucy shook her head, taking hold of his forearms and squeezing gently.

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"So then why-"

"To hang out."

A funny look came over Wyatt's face. "Say what now?"

Lucy sighed. "I'm not even kidding you. I wish I were. She knows how much I adore Eleanor Roosevelt. She used tonight to lure me to her so we could reconnect with some good gossip and schmoozing."

Wyatt snorted sceptically. "You can't be serious."

"I could not make this up," she deadpanned.

"And she thought that would make everything okay? That you'd go oh, gee, thanks mom, what a great field trip, I'll totally join you and your cronies on your evil quest now!?" The soldier was incensed at the thought. The gall. The pure, unbelievable, insane idea that after everything she had done, Carol could still just waltz in and coerce Lucy to her side because she got her into a cool lady's night?

Sensing his rapidly mounting agitation, Lucy squeezed his arms again, running her thumbs softly back and forth across the starched staff jacket he was now wearing. Wyatt's breathing slowed automatically, his eyebrows falling to a normal level.

"I'm so sorry, Lucy," he said solemnly, taking a step closer to her. She could smell his aftershave, feel the heat of his body. "This can't be easy for you."

Her heart ached at the sympathy, no, the empathy in his voice. He knew about shitty parents, after all. She swallowed thickly. Should she ask him about it? His showdown with her mother? No, it wasn't the time or place. Instead she just said "No. It isn't."

At one point not so long ago, she might have talked to him about it. Not his confrontation with Carol quiet yet, just about her mother in general. She couldn't now, though. It wasn't her place, or his, to talk about things so personal. Yet still, his understanding gaze bore into her. It confused her. Was her mother right? Had he never had any real feelings for her? Had she misinterpreted their talks of possibilities, the look on his face that morning in Hollywood? He had kicked her to the curb in the blink of an eye. But if he was so happy with Jessica, why did he sometimes still look at her like he was right then? Was it just the concern of a close friend?

A door suddenly banged open and a liveried staff exited with a tray of food. The time travellers leapt apart, only just realizing how close they'd been. If the man had seen anything, he didn't say, simply sweeping by and knocking on the door to the party hall. A uniformed woman opened the door and took the food. The man then returned through the door he'd come from. Lucy's cheeks were red when Wyatt looked at her again, her arms at her sides, fingers awkwardly wringing themselves.

"So, uh," Wyatt coughed and cleared his throat. "What now?"

"Well, um, if it's okay, there are actually a lot of really amazing women in there," Lucy said, suddenly shy. While she'd sought people out to distract herself from her mother, the people she'd met had been incredible. Maybe Carol didn't have to completely destroy her evening. Plus, the longer she stayed away from the bunker, the longer she could put off confronting Wyatt. Or seeing Jessica again. "And then there's Eleanor Roosevelt, of course, so, I was hoping…" she trailed off.

"You want to stay," Wyatt grinned.

She nodded, cheeks still pink.

"Even with your mother in there?"

Lucy's eyes narrowed. "I will not let that woman wreck this night any further. Yes, she basically ruined my meeting my idol, but I won't let her take the rest away from me. I want to enjoy myself and have a fantastic damn time, and she can go screw herself."

Wyatt's grin burst into a full-blown ear-to-ear smile. "Atta girl!"

She smiled back at him. "So, it's okay? We can stay for a couple more hours, even though there's not actually a mission?"

"Hey, you're the boss, remember?" he said cheekily before becoming mockingly serious. "And there is absolutely a mission, Professor. The head of Rittenhouse itself might be in that room. You must be in there, talking to everyone and blending right in, in case she decides to do something after all."

They both knew Carol wouldn't. She might stay, and glower, and perhaps try to goad Lucy again, but she wouldn't try to whisk her away. She might have even left, by then, slunk back to the Mothership and home to devise her next wicked scheme. Of all the members of their team, Lucy deserved a break, a bit of fun, the most. Wyatt knew that better than anyone. Before he could think of all the reasons why she deserved a break, and his own guilt and shame reared their ugly heads, he shooed her off.

"Go, Lucy," he insisted. "We'll meet you outside the shop where you got your dress after the party." He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, deliberately avoiding her gaze for a minute. "The dress is, uh. Nice. By the way. Really nice."

"Oh," her eyes went wide. "Um… thanks."

"Yeah. So, anyways… go on. Let your inner fangirl fly free."

She rewarded him with an excited little laugh and hurried back to the party door.

Several hours later

"Hey guys!" Lucy gushed as she stepped out of the cab.

"You sure you'll be alright, Ma'am?" the cab driver asked, warily looking at Rufus and Wyatt, two strange men waiting on the sidewalk in front of a seemingly random shop.

"Oh yeah," Lucy nodded fervently. "They're my boys. My guys. My men?"

The driver kept frowning as Rufus failed to contain a snort of laughter.

"It's fine, Sir," Wyatt stepped up to assure. "I think my sister has just had a bit much to drink."

"Well alright," the cabbie said slowly.

"Have a lovely night!" Lucy waved. "Thanks so much for the ride!"

The car pulled away as Rufus snorted again.

"Why're you making those funny noises?" Lucy frowned at him.

"I think someone's had a bit too much from the punch bowl," Rufus grinned.

"Whaaaat?" Lucy's brows crinkled up. She made to march forward at him, but her heel caught on something and she pitched sideways.

"Woah!" Wyatt instinctively threw his arms out and caught her, her own arms flying around him and clinging tight.

She erupted in a fit of giggles. "Whoopsies!"

"As I said," Rufus nodded.

"Hey now," she harrumphed. "I trip all the time. No drink nece…necess… no drink needed!"

"Fair point. Tripping aside, how's that PHD level vocabulary working for you right now?"

She harrumphed again and started detangling herself from Wyatt. He kept his hands on her waist for a few moments to make sure she was, in fact, steady. She peered up at him, her eyes wide and luminous in the moonlight.

"You smell nice."

Rufus whistled. "Hooo boy. Time to get home, I think."

Wyatt coughed and swiftly let go of her waist. "Yeah. Parties over."

"Oh my gosh, guys!" Lucy prattled as they started walking towards the lifeboat. "The party was so amazing. So many incredible, smart, awesome women. And they were all so pretty. I just love vintage clothes! I mean, sometimes they smell, and are so heavy, and they can hurt so much and the shoes give me blisters-"

"But the pretty stuff," Wyatt reminded her.

"So pretty! I just feel so grand in them sometimes! But anyways, the ladies! So cool! They were all so interesting! And smart! We jus.. we jus talked about so much, and I learned so much. And the food was so good! It was so nice not to have to steal, or forage, or starve. And there were skits! People dressed up like the Chief Justice, and even the President himself!" she stage-whispered the last, so impressed and disbelieving. "To make fun of them! It was sooo funny."

"Glad you had a good time, Lucy," Wyatt grinned. "You and those Gin Rickeys."

She brushed right on by the gin comment. "Such a good time! I can't believe I met Eleanor Roosevelt! Oh my god she was just so amazing. Did you know that she…"

They let the Professor ramble on about the First Lady for most of the walk. Both men marvelled that she couldn't say the word 'necessary' in her state but could still recall a host of minute details and facts about the influential figure.

"I haven't had that much fun since… I don't even know. Since Hedy Lamar! And that was a really great trip." She broke off into a new brand of giggles. Knowing, secretive. This time Rufus didn't snort, he winced, and glanced cagily at Wyatt. The soldier pretended he hadn't heard.

"Oh look," he called loudly. "I think that's the clearing we left the Lifeboat in. Let's get out of here."

After a fight with Lucy's dress, and more laughter from her, they were all in the lifeboat. Rufus quickly confirmed that the Mothership had, in fact, returned to the present a few hours earlier.

"Party pooper," Lucy primly said.

Both men could sure agree on that. Rufus set about prepping the machine while Wyatt helped Lucy with her belts.

"I got it!" she protested.

"Really?"

"Yeah, look!"

Her lips pouted out adorably as she frowned down at the jumble of belts and buckles. She fumbled around for a few moments before throwing her hands up in defeat.

"Okay fine, Mr. Seatbelt Man, since you're sooo good at this, have at 'er."

Wyatt pursed his lips to keep from laughing.

"I'm so calling you Mr. Seatbelt Man from now on," Rufus jibed from the front.

"No, you most definitely are not."

"Am so."

"Just fly the damn machine, will ya?"

"Sure thing, Mr. S."

Lucy tittered.

Moments later, they were back in the present.

"I'm sleepy," announced Lucy.

"Seriously?" Wyatt asked. "Ripping through time and space didn't wake you up a bit?"

"Or sober you up?" Rufus piped in.

She shook her head before closing her eyes. "Sleepy."

"Woah there," Wyatt leaned forward to unstrap her. "No sleeping in the lifeboat. Your bed is so close! Don't you want that?"

"I can't sleep in my bed," she mumbled. "Not anymore. Can't sleep anywhere…"

Wyatt's heart sank at her confession, sure she'd never meant to admit that out loud.

"Well you'll sleep well tonight," he said, falsely chipper. "We just need to get you to your room."

It took the three of them plus a bewildered Jiya, who'd taken the nights watch to wait for them, to wrangle the inebriated historian out of the Lifeboat and safely to the ground. Her limbs somehow kept sliding right out of their grasps.

"You are surprisingly limber right now," Jiya observed. "You're like a noodle! Jeez. Are you always this bendy?"

It was Lucy's turn to snort, airily declaring "Ask Wyatt."

The three people holding her grimaced. Rufus and Jiya made pained faces at each other before daring to glance at a suddenly stone-faced Wyatt. He said nothing, just grabbed hold of Lucy and started stalking down the hall, half hauling, half pushing her, ignoring her whoop of laughter. As he stormed down the hallway the Master Sergeant didn't notice the door to his own room cracking open, or the pair of eyes that followed he and the laughing Lucy. He brusquely opened her door before carefully helping her onto the bed. She flopped down sideways with a loud sigh. Letting out a sigh of his own, Wyatt gathered her legs and laid them on the bed as well. He was glad she had a room again. He would not have wanted to leave her flopped out on the couch in her state. He wasn't so glad it was Flynn who had helped her get said room. Without telling anyone, the ex-NSA had cleared out an old storage closet for her.

"Home?" she mumbled as he slid her shoes off.

"Yes, Lucy," he confirmed as his hands automatically moved to zipper of her dress. He stopped at the last second, hesitating, unsure. "Home. You're safe."

She burrowed her face into the pillow. Her next words were muffled, but audible. "Always safe with you."

Wyatt withdrew his hands as if he'd been burned. He couldn't do this. It wasn't his place. He was walking on such dangerous grounds. Her statement wasn't true. He knew that with absolute certainty. Physically, maybe she was. Most of the time. He tried damn hard to make sure of it. But emotionally? Yeah. Try the total opposite. He really hoped she wouldn't remember any of this in the morning. Nothing that had happened since meeting he and Rufus, at least. He hoped Rufus and Jiya had the sense to forget as well.

He quickly brought a light blanket up and over her, tucking it up around her shoulders. She hummed softly.

"Good night, Lucy," he said in a low voice.

"Night, Wyatt," she sighed, a small smile curling the side of her mouth.

He waited until he was sure she was fast asleep. However good a night she'd ended up having, the encounter with her mother had to have been rough. He could tell she hadn't told him the whole story. He knew how such things could creep into your mind at night, in the quiet darkness, and keep you up, replaying the scene and all the ways it could have gone. If Carol had been there to kidnap Lucy again, if he and Rufus had gone back to the Lifeboat rendezvous and Lucy never showed up…

Wyatt shook his head. Yeah, dark thoughts in the night were no stranger to him. Looking over her face once more to ensure its peaceful relaxation was genuine, he stood. As he turned to leave his foot hit against something under her bed. Frowning, he crouched down to check.

It was a bottle of vodka, mostly empty.

Shit.

He closed his eyes for a moment, his hands curling into fists against the cold floor. He knew exactly what empty liquor bottles under beds meant.

Shit.

Squeezing his eyes shut against a sudden onslaught of moisture, he stood up. There was no way he could deal with this revelation right then. He needed to get it out of his head and try to sleep. Before heading to his own room, he detoured to the kitchen, gathering a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers and leaving them beside her doorway. He wondered how many drinks she'd had for fun, and how many to wipe her mind clean of Carol Preston. He wondered how many drinks she'd been having in her room at night, alone.

Because of him.

When he got into his own room, Jessica was asleep. Or so he thought. He didn't know that she'd watched him. Watched them.

He didn't know that she'd been waiting, counting the minutes he'd stayed in Lucy's room.

To Be Continued…

SOOOOOOOOO… I told you guys I write more than just smut. What do you think? My gosh did I make Carol awful… just… wow… So not what Susanna is like, and yet SO FUN to play with. How have I never written her before? Muahahah. It just makes me think of poor sweet little young Lucy, so oblivious to the subtle machinations of her mother. Not so subtle anymore, that's for sure.

Btw, it must be said that while I came up with the event and premise and everything, Peach had the idea of Eleanor Roosevelt herself. Credit where credit is due.

So what do you think is going to happen in part two? Will it be about Jessica? Will it be about Carol? Will it be about Lucy's drunken ramblings and their possible consequences? Who knows? Reviews fuel everything. YOU guys make it happen.