"Dammit"

Wyatt rubbed a rough hand through his hair as he stood in the quiet, star-lit stillness of the darkened mountain lodge cursing his luck.

After leaving Lucy in the arms of her fiancé, Wyatt began the lonely trek to San Francisco with a mind and heart filled with regret and loss. He hadn't gone very far, when he decided that there was no way he could stomach a stay in San Francisco; his mind was too full of both Lucy and Jessica to make that anything but a living hell for him. Jessica, because she had always wanted to go, and Lucy…well, let's just say he couldn't even think about the Golden Gate bridge without feeling sick to his stomach.

The last thing he needed in the midst of all of his misery was to wake up every damn morning for the next two weeks with that landmark looming over him like a dark cloud, reminding him that the woman he was head over heels for was set to marry a man she didn't even love…all because of "fate" and that damn bridge. Wanting to put as much distance between himself and every last bit of heartache he had suffered over the past few years, therefore, Wyatt drove on, hardly caring where he ended up until he remembered his Grandpa Sherwin.

When he was younger, Wyatt had often clambered up to the loft in his grandfather's barn and pulled out old photographs and letters from his World War II days. Maybe it was because he had never really had a family of his own outside of his grandparents, but seeing those pictures of his grandfather, surrounded by his "brothers in arms", gave Wyatt a sense of purpose and direction. He wanted to be a part of something bigger than himself, to be like those men in the photographs…to see the world, like they had.

It was during one of his visits to that loft, that his Grandpa Sherwin caught him rifling through his old things. When Wyatt scrambled to his feet to apologize, his grandfather, far from being upset, chuckled lightly and crouched down next to him seemingly all too willing to reminisce about the good old days with his grandson. In one particularly faded and worn old envelope, his grandpa pulled out a grainy old photo and smiled, "This here," he said in a soft voice, "was taken right before your grandma and I headed back to Texas on our honeymoon." His eyes crinkled as he smiled at memories that remained carefully locked away in his heart and mind before ruffling Wyatt's hair with a gentle hand, "This old world has got some mighty pretty places, son…but nothing has ever amazed me quite like Yosemite – it was the best damn week of my life."

Remembering this, Wyatt quickly turned his Jeep onto the San Mateo-Hayward bridge and began the nearly four-hour trek east to Yosemite National Park. He knew, from browsing through a few brochures as he prepared for this San Francisco trip, that there were a couple of nice mountain lodges as well as well-maintained campgrounds all throughout the park. He didn't have a reservation, but he figured that even if he had to sleep in his damn Jeep, it would be a far better night's rest than he would get sleeping in some damn hotel room in a city that would remind him of everything he had lost.

Of course, it was his own damn fault. He knew from the start that Lucy was engaged, knew that once they reached San Francisco…or well, Palo Alto, that their paths would diverge and that would be the end of it. He just hadn't expected to fall for her…and didn't realize he had until it was too damn late.

But that was why Yosemite was such a good idea. Not only would he be spending time away from the hustle and bustle of civilization, he was now going to be so far to the east, driving back to San Diego from Yosemite would allow him to avoid the coast altogether…which was something he desperately wanted to do.

It was just past midnight when he pulled into the Yosemite Valley Lodge. Stepping out into the cool dark night, he marveled at the thousands of twinkling stars suspended in the inky blackness above him. He had seen stars like this before, of course. In his small West Texas hometown and on a few remote deployments…but here, among the dark shadows of the Sierra Nevadas and the towering sequoias, they seemed…bigger, brighter…

…or maybe he was just looking for anything to help him justify the fact that he had just driven four more hours out of his way to avoid being anywhere near where Lucy was.

The stiffness that had settled in his legs slowly dissipated as he wearily made his way towards the lobby. The lodge was fashioned after a rustic log cabin with rows and rows of connected bungalows situated all along the property. As he entered, a roaring fire greeted his arrival, immediately warming him as he stomped across the hardwood floors to the check-in desk.

"I'm…um…looking for a room." Wyatt muttered to the young clerk behind the desk, before offering in explanation, "I don't have a reservation…I sort of just made a last-minute decision to come up here."

"No problem at all, sir." the clerk replied, in a manner Wyatt thought was too damn perky for that time of night. "We have plenty of rooms available, you'll just need a major credit card to get you settled."

Happy that at least something had ended up going right for him tonight, Wyatt handed his credit card and military ID over and rested his aching head in his hands, praying that maybe this was a sign of better things to come.

"I hope you had a pleasant trip here, Master Sergeant Logan?" the clerk quipped as she typed in his information. "Stationed in…San Diego, I see? Did you drive or fly into Yosemite this evening?"

Not in the mood for small talk, and definitely not in any mood to revisit any part of his drive, Wyatt merely grunted in response, hoping that the perky hotel clerk would take the hint and just leave him the hell alone.

But she didn't.

"How many will be in your room, sir?"

"It's just me." Wyatt muttered in response, his head still firmly in his hands.

"And how long will you be staying with us?"

"I don't know…haven't decided yet."

"Oh, in that case would you be interested in our extended stay pac…"

"Look," Wyatt interrupted with a huff, "I'm just interested in getting a room, okay? I don't want anything right now but sleep." Seeing the look of shock on the clerk's face because of his rudeness, Wyatt sighed ruefully as he dragged a rough hand across his face. "I'm…I'm sorry…I'm just…I had a long drive and I'm tired…I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The clerk nodded back at him, handing him his room key with far less perky enthusiasm than she had initially greeted him with…and while he did feel bad about snapping at her, he really wasn't all that moved to care whether she thought he was a jackass or not. He was far more interested in locking himself away in a hotel room for the next few hours to sleep…and maybe drink away his sorrows - but he knew that neither would really solve anything. If he drank he would inevitably wake up feeling all that much worse in the morning…and if he didn't drink, well…there was no way in hell he was going to get any damn sleep at all tonight.

With that depressing and irrefutable thought in mind, the moment the clerk handed him his room key, Wyatt slowly made his way back out to his Jeep, figuring that the least he could do was take a nice hot shower in an attempt to clear his mind and relax his overwrought nerves.

He never should have kissed her – that much was certain…but the fact was he had and now, knowing that she didn't love her fiancé, knowing that if that asshole hadn't shown up when he had that maybe…just maybe…

No.

He couldn't keep on like this. Lucy's fiancé wasn't to blame…hell, who wouldn't be crazy about Lucy Preston? He didn't have any right to hate the man for being in love with her…if anything, that Noah guy should hate him – the man who had spent two days with his fiancé, driving up the coast, stopping at every roadside attraction, milking every second that he could with a woman who was engaged to someone else. How many times in his life had he sworn never to be the asshole his father was? How many times, after he caught Jessica with that…jackass Jeff, Jack…whatever the hell his name was…had he vowed to never be the type of guy he was?

Noah wasn't the asshole – he was.

And what an asshole.

He knew Lucy was engaged. He knew she was trying to get home in time for…something…and yet, he went along with every single request, every single detour, never once questioned the optics of any of it…why? Because he liked spending time her. Lucy, a woman who was clearly off limits. How many times had he told himself to keep her at arm's length? How many times had he reminded himself that she was not available? How many times had he recalled the hurt and betrayal he had felt when he had come home to find Jessica wrapped up in the arms of another man?

And yet still, like a complete and total asshole, he had to go and kiss her.

The phantom feel of her fingers on his face, the way she felt in his arms, the desperate and hungry way she had kissed him back, lingered with him like a heavy, dark cloud, striking him to his very soul with the power of a lightening bolt with how much it hurt to leave her behind forever.

Oh hell, he needed to get her out of his head.

He hastened his steps towards his Jeep, hoping that here in the great outdoors, among the fresh air, mountains, and sequoia forests, a place that his grandfather had always remembered so fondly, he would be able to forget her and focus on somehow getting his life back on track. But the moment he opened the back hatch to his Jeep and reached for his suitcase that hope came to a frustrating and devastating end.

Because there, sitting neatly next to his own suitcase…were Lucy's bags.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Dammit.

He stared into the back of his Jeep, his stomach hurtling into an endless abyss of torment and anxiety, at the matching luggage set nestled neatly next to his own…mocking him, telling him that no matter where he ran, no matter how much distance he had tried to put between them, there would be no escaping that kiss nor the memory of one Lucy Preston.

Wyatt kicked out at nothing, cursing himself for being so damn hasty. He hadn't even thought about her damn suitcases and yet now, four hours away from Lucy and her too-damn perfect fiancé, he couldn't believe how something as important as her bags could have been missed by both of them. Instinctively, he checked his phone, wondering if perhaps she sent him a text…but the surrounding mountains had already given him the social reprieve he was so desperately hoping for…

No service.

Groaning he held his head in his hands and collapsed against his Jeep, one devastating thought overwhelming his tortured brain - he was going to have to see her again.

"I need a damn whiskey." Wyatt muttered to no one but himself as he yanked his bag free and huffed his way back to the hotel.

Wyatt stepped out of his room and into the sunshine of a beautiful mid-morning, resolved that he wouldn't go back to San Francisco immediately…even if he felt a little weird about hanging on to Lucy's bags.

First, there was the distance. He had just spent the last two days driving up the coast, and then, after an emotional rollercoaster of a day, spent another four hours driving well into the wee hours of the morning just to get to Yosemite….and the hell away from any reminders of her.

Then there was Lucy. His feelings and emotions were still too raw to risk seeing her again. As he had already proven himself to be a Grade A asshole, he didn't think it was a good idea to throw himself back in her life again, particularly when she had already made her decision and had an engagement party to prepare for. He doubted, in his current frame of mind, that he would be able to withstand the temptation of begging her to reconsider…if not for his own personal benefit, but for her own.

Marrying someone who was almost certainly hand-picked by her mother? A guy she respected, but didn't love? Only agreeing to the whole damn charade just because, Wyatt remembered with a pang, she "didn't say no." It was just a recipe for disaster, wasn't it?

He figured that one day, she would probably live to regret it. Not that that gave him any comfort. He just wished he could save her from it, wished she would have let him save her from it…but ultimately, he knew that it would fall on her. It had to. Someday, somehow she was going to have to come to grips with the fact that her life was not her own…and she was either going to have to choose to do something about it or live the rest of her life under her mother's thumb. No one else could make that kind of decision for her.

He just hoped, for her own sake, that she would finally learn to stand up for herself.

Since driving immediately back to San Francisco and facing Lucy wasn't an option, therefore, Wyatt threw all of his focus in exploring the great outdoors, expending all of his energy hiking and taking in the beautiful vistas of tree-covered mountaintops and towering waterfalls that dotted the Yosemite landscape. It was readily apparent to him, as he basked in the glory and serenity of the peace and quiet of the park, why his grandfather had enjoyed this place so much. Coming here, as he did, right after the war, it had to have done him some good after the hellish existence he had lived on the front lines of battle for all of those horrible months.

The last few years of his own life had been nothing but turmoil and heartache and while he had harbored the hope that this vacation would serve not only to help him repair his broken relationship with Jessica, but also help him find himself again…he had wound up feeling even worse than he had before he left San Diego.

It had been his own fault, of course.

No good deed goes unpunished and all that, right? Stopping on the side of the road like he did, offering a complete stranger a ride to San Francisco… but though he absolutely regretted how things had ended with Lucy, he found that he couldn't bring himself to wish that he had never met her, that he had never kissed her, that he had never known Lucy Preston. In fact, he'd argue that stopping on the side of that damn road may have just been the best decision he had ever made in his life…even if he would live a lifetime of heartache and regret because of it.

A week's worth of fresh air and exercise and just getting the hell away from civilization for a while, away from all the reminders of every shitty thing that had happened to him over the past two years was beginning to do him some good, though. He felt more focused, more rejuvenated than he had since…well, since before things had ended with Jessica. His mood, depressed and frustrated as it had been for…hell, for years, was finally beginning to improve. He may not have been completely happy, but he wasn't completely miserable either…and given the state he was in when he showed up to this mountain lodge in the middle of the night, that was saying something. Another week away from it all and Wyatt was sure he would be well on his way to getting back to his old self and more importantly…getting over Lucy.

But then the storm hit.

Hail, high winds and heavy rains pummeled the landscape for two whole days washing out many of the trails and closing access to some of the more treacherous areas of the park. Stuck in his hotel room, therefore, with no exercise or scenic vistas to distract his thoughts, Wyatt set once more to brooding over the shitty hand he had been dealt these past few years. Flipping on the television, he cursed when he saw that the rain was expected to linger, scoffing as the weatherman reported how unusual the storm was for this time of year.

It wasn't unusual, Wyatt thought with a huff, it was just his damn luck.

Not content to spend the next week holed up in his hotel room, Wyatt decided to find something more productive to do, desperate for anything that would serve as a distraction from the dark thoughts he had fought so hard to keep at bay. Meandering his way down to the lobby he found that he was hardly alone in his vein of thinking; everyone else seemed to have had the same idea as he noted a large line of people idly waiting their turn for the concierge and others huddled around the brochure stand.

Breathing out an exasperated curse, Wyatt wandered down the lobby hall and took to admiring old photographs, checking out display cases, looking out of the large picture windows at the pounding storm until he found himself in the gift shop. Deciding he had plenty of time to kill, Wyatt strolled through the shelves of merchandise, hardly caring about what he was even looking at when a flyer, unceremoniously taped to the wall, caught his attention…and not in a good way.

"If you're looking for something interesting to do," the clerk began, seeing Wyatt studying the announcement, "I highly recommend visiting the museum tomorrow. We're coming on the 80th anniversary of the opening, you know? One of the first museums in the entire National Park Service and this right here," he said with a nod, "is sure to be a fine start to mark the occasion. This new exhibit is going to be something else, thanks to our friends from the University of California and Stanford."

Stanford.

Just the word sent his stomach plummeting to the floor like a lead balloon as his thoughts unsurprisingly strayed from the here and now to that awful night outside the Liberal Arts building. All at once, he was hit with the feelings he had fought so hard to keep at bay - the desperation, the shame and the heart ache that followed all of it when he drove away from the one person in the world he never wanted to say good-bye to.

The one person whose name was now staring back at him on the full-color flyer.

"Yosemite's Women – Their Life and Legacy" Wyatt read aloud, before continuing with a sigh, "Special thanks to Stanford University and the University of California, San Diego for the archival contributions and research that made this exhibit possible. Drs. Carol Preston, Lucy Preston, James Gallagher and Henry Morris.

"It promises to be an excellent exhibit," the clerk continued, as he made his way around the counter. "I hear they've got Clare Marie Hodges uniform. You know she was the first ever female park ranger in the National Park Service?

"Is that so?" Wyatt asked flatly, cursing his luck.

"Oh sure," the clerk answered as he perused the bookshelves on the back wall, "Joined in 1918 while all the young men were off fighting in the Great War. Ah, here it is," he quipped pulling a small book off the shelf, "This is a great book to read if you're interested at all in the new exhibit, "Tales of the Forgotten Women of Yosemite…written by one of the contributors….Dr. Lucy Preston. She's at Stanford, I believe."

The last thing Wyatt needed was something else to bring Lucy back to the forefront of his mind, but before he could protest, the book was pushed into his hands by the over-zealous clerk. Holding Lucy's book, Wyatt was filled with an overwhelming sense of longing…one that he cursed the minute he felt that undeniable pull at his heartstrings. He missed her. He missed their conversations. He missed the way her eyes would light up when she would tell him some random fact about some not so random place. His thumb drifted over her name on the cover before he asked in a voice quavering with emotion, "Is she…will she be coming to this…this thing?"

"Who? Lucy Preston?" The clerk asked absent-mindedly as shuffled back behind the counter, To the exhibit unveiling? Not that I've heard," he replied with a shrug, "Sometimes we can get the authors of these books to come for a book signing, but that particular book is several years old. The exhibit may have been influenced by it somewhat, but I doubt she was even available."

"Yeah, she's definitely not available." Wyatt muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" the clerk asked innocently, but when Wyatt dismissed his comment as nothing, the clerk continued, "Her mother may make an appearance though. Carol Preston runs the History Department at Stanford and when they contribute things to the collection like this, she generally pops in to make sure all the artifacts are handled with the utmost care. They're only here on loan, you see…and she sees it as her responsibility to make sure they get back to her in one piece." He sighed as he crossed back to the wall of books, pulling a much larger volume from the shelf, "She and her daughter work together quite closely together from what I understand…their latest work here on John Muir and Theodore Roosevelt is just…well, it's just…."

"World-class?" Wyatt asked with a sarcastic smirk as he noted the size of the book.

"Precisely." The clerk agreed with a meaningful nod, completely missing Wyatt's eyeroll. "Like mother, like daughter, right?"

"Right." Wyatt responded flatly, feeling that in this case, it could hardly qualify as a compliment. Carol Preston, from what he had gathered from Lucy herself, was a selfish, micro-managing, tyrant…and okay, maybe he had other reason to dislike the woman, but as far as he was concerned, Lucy Preston was in a completely different league than her mother.

One that was heads and tails above Carol Preston in every possible way.

He knew he should have just put her book back on the shelf and walked away, but there he was, almost mechanically, slapping it down on the counter and paying for it, hardly realizing what he had done until he found himself sitting in the lobby perusing its pages. He could hear her voice in every sentence, see her expression in every word, the book, however, as good as it was, was a poor substitute for the real thing. Every page he turned made him miss her all the more - her laugh, her smile, the way she would tilt her head at him and give him that look of hers…and though he knew he wasn't doing himself any favors, he couldn't help but keep reading, feeling that having a phantom part of Lucy beside him was better than having no Lucy at all.

He regretted it later that night, however, as he tossed and turned for hours thinking of their last conversation outside of Stanford. How he had practically begged her not to marry a man she didn't love, how she had stubbornly refused to see reason, how ashamed she looked in the arms of her fiancé, how he thought for one moment she had chosen him…how he wondered if he ever really stood a chance.

By now, he figured, she must have realized that her bags were gone…and that he had them. Pulling his phone off the bedside table he stared at the screen, and though it still irritatingly blinked back that he had no service, it did not stop him from checking through his text messages just to be sure. That, however, proved to be an even bigger mistake, because no sooner had he opened his history, then the text Lucy had sent herself…the one that was just the photo of the two of them standing in the rain near the Bixby Bridge, had him leaping out of bed with a curse and crossing over to the mini fridge for an overpriced, miniature bottle of whiskey.

"What the hell am I going to do?" Wyatt muttered to no one but himself as he tossed his phone back on the bedside table and poured the contents of a small bottle of Jack Daniels into a nearby tumbler.

Yosemite was supposed to be his sanctuary, the place where he could spend his vacation away from any reminders of Lucy, their kiss…and the fact that he was hopelessly head over heels for her. Yet, somehow…here she was again, hanging over him like a shadow, threatening to haunt him the rest of his days…all because he had to go and be an asshole.

Determined to get her out of his head once and for all, Wyatt decided that in the morning, he would cancel the rest of his stay at Yosemite, head to San Francisco, drop off Lucy's bags and get the hell out of that city as soon as he possibly could. So, the next day as the storms still raged overhead, he made his way down to the lobby, ready to change his reservation all the while steeling himself for the unhappy, yet necessary task still before him.

As he approached the desk, he noted a man wearing a University of California polo standing at the counter next to him. Figuring he must be here for the opening of the new exhibit at the museum, Wyatt felt all the more compelled to get the hell out of Dodge before he was faced with any more torturous reminders of Lucy Preston. He was just about to hand over his card for the refund on his pre-paid days when the clerk pressed him, "If you are looking to extend your vacation elsewhere we can set you up with one of our partner hotels in the area. Lake Tahoe, Sacramento, San Francisco…"

At the mention of San Francisco, Wyatt let out a derisive laugh, absolutely ready to refuse, but his attention was just then drawn to a woman who, upon entering the lobby, had marched directly up to the man on his right and began accosting him.

"I should have known you would be here, James." she greeted him curtly, but at the surprised look on his face, she scoffed and added, "You, on the other hand, seem very surprised to see me."

"I was told that you had another engagement…"

"I do…but seeing as how you seem hellbent on overstepping your bounds, I felt compelled to be here this morning. What on Earth were you thinking?" she snapped, not even giving James a chance to respond, "Offering her a position in San Diego? After all of these years of friendship, how could you even think of doing such a thing without first discussing it with me?"

"Well, as you know, you were our first choice…"

"Like I could leave Stanford at the start of the Fall term?" she asked, laughing haughtily, "Do you have any idea what my schedule looks like? I shouldn't even be here right now…"

"I really didn't think you would mind, Carol. I thought you'd welcome the chance for Lucy to make a name for herself outside of Stanford." James replied, "She seemed quite eager…"

"Of course she did. She has no idea what's best for her. If it weren't for me, she would be teaching at a community college in Ohio. Ohio, James."

Wyatt couldn't help but stare, open-mouthed at the woman beside him, knowing, as he did, that she was, beyond any unreasonable doubt…Lucy's mother…Carol Preston. His eyes scanned her face for any trace of a similarity or likeness, and while there was something in the way she tilted her head and carried herself that reminded him of Lucy, the two women couldn't have been more different. Carol's light straight hair sharply contrasted that of Lucy's dark curls, her light eyes, too, were nothing like Lucy's dark ones. The most striking difference of all, however, had nothing to do with appearances. Even without knowing anything else about the woman standing before him, Wyatt could plainly see that she was haughty and proud…not at all like Lucy.

James, it appeared to Wyatt, seemed to think so too, as he stammered in response, "She…she never had your ambition, Carol," he began, "I wish you could have seen her at our campus, with our students…she was just delightful…and from what I understand from her, Stanford hasn't even considered giving her tenure yet."

"That is besides the point." She snapped in reply, "You know I can't show favoritism…"

"Of course not, but don't you see?" James pressed, "By letting her spend a semester or two with us, she proves herself, not only to other members of the faculty at Stanford, but…"

"No. Absolutely not…completely out of the question." Carol replied emphatically, "She can prove herself just fine where she is…I don't care what she says. Besides," she added with a sigh, "once she's married, she'll have to stay at Stanford. Noah will finish his residency next year and they're already offering him positions at UCSF. I have great friends there," she explained meaningfully as they walked away from the counter together, "it's all been arranged."

Wyatt stared after them, anger seething through him as he recalled everything Lucy had told him on their drive up the coast. From their conversations, he had gathered that Lucy's mother was a bit on the domineering side, anxious for her daughter to follow in her footsteps…not unlike most parents who want the best for their children. But this?

This was something else entirely.

A cold fury burned in his chest as he watched her go, thinking of how in one fell swoop she had absolutely extinguished any hope Lucy might have had for charting her own course, forging her own path, making her own damn way in the world. That James guy was right…at Stanford, Lucy would forever be living in the shadow of her mother and her world-class reputation, with the additional burden of forever having to defend herself against charges of favoritism because of her mother's position.

But that wasn't what made him really angry.

To hear her mother use Lucy's marriage to a guy she didn't even love as an excuse for her to stay behind at Stanford, going so far as to influence people at the hospital to make sure Noah stayed put was enough to make his blood boil. Nothing, absolutely nothing Lucy had was her own…and from what he could tell from this overheard conversation, it never would be. Lucy's mother would always be there, pulling the strings, orchestrating every last damn detail of her daughter's life…not giving a rat's ass if it was what Lucy wanted or not.

"Sir? I'll need your card in order to issue you that refund…"

Not taking his eyes off of Carol Preston as she slowly made her way down the hall with her colleague, Wyatt shook his head and replied, "You know what? I changed my mind. I think I do want to stay in San Francisco, after all."

When Wyatt had set off from Yosemite that morning, he had done so mostly out of spite. It had been one thing to hear Lucy complain about her mother's domineering nature, but quite another to witness it firsthand. Listening to her dismiss Lucy's aspirations, absolutely refusing to allow her a chance to make her own way in the world without receiving her mother's blessing, infuriated him to no end…particularly when he knew how far Lucy was going in a desperate attempt to please her – marrying a man she didn't even love. So angry was he at Carol Preston and the way she constantly bullied and manipulated Lucy into doing her will, that his previous resolution to never step foot in San Francisco had completely flown out the window, replaced by his determination to relate to Lucy all that he witnessed. It wasn't until he crossed the Oakland Bridge into San Francisco and reality began to set in, that he began to think that maybe he was making a big mistake.

Who was he to Lucy, anyway?

Just the guy who had given her a ride when she had found herself stranded on the side of the road.

Hadn't he already tried to get her to see reason? Hadn't he already put himself out on the line only to have her choose her fiancé and this…this life her mother had engineered for her? And what had Lucy done? Rejected him. Rejected the idea that her mother could have had anything to do with her and her fiancé…and hell, even if a part of her knew that her mother was behind it all, she still made her choice.

She was the one who said goodbye.

Suddenly feeling like a complete and total idiot, Wyatt had half a mind to veer his Jeep off to the left, head south towards San Diego and never look back. The idea of having to face Lucy again, knowing what he knew about her mother's plans for Noah's career, knowing that even in marriage, Lucy's life would be controlled and dominated by her mother, knowing that where she was concerned, he was vulnerable…and his heart, well, it had already been ripped out, stomped on and put through the damn ringer…he wasn't looking forward to a part two of what had gone down at Stanford. But the fact remained…he still had Lucy's suitcases and until he unloaded them and faced her…his demon…the lightning bolt that had all but destroyed him…he figured he would never be free of her.

Resigning himself to his fate, therefore, Wyatt followed the promptings of his GPS until he found himself pulling up to a large building that looked more like a palace than a hotel.

"This can't be right." Wyatt muttered as he checked the address on his GPS and looked out at the ornate building towering in front of him. The Fairmont Hotel occupied an entire city block, and did, truly, look more like a palace than a hotel. While it was certainly not like any place he had ever set foot in, let alone stay in, one look at the print out he had received from the Lodge in Yosemite confirmed that this was indeed the place. As he watched the uniformed valets and doorman bustling around the luxurious SUVS and sportscars in front of him, Wyatt couldn't help but let out a curse, wondering what the hell it had probably cost him.

Feeling less at home here than he did in the rustic lodge in the woods, Wyatt left his equally out of place Jeep in the care of the hotel staff and made his way into the ornate lobby, fully expecting them to direct him to some other, less ostentatious place in town.

Far from being laughed out of the building, however, Wyatt was greeted with as much, if not more enthusiasm than he had received at the lodge, but given that the whole of his pre-paid week had probably been applied to just one damn night in this place, he figured he shouldn't be surprised.

What did come as a surprise…or rather, a disappointment was that his room was declared to not be "quite ready" and therefore he would have to find something to occupy his time until he could fully check in. Groaning, Wyatt checked his watch, wishing…for more reasons than one… that he hadn't rushed out of Yosemite so damn fast. "What time can I check in?" Wyatt asked again, hoping he had misheard.

"Three o'clock, sir" the clerk replied, though promising to call him if his room became available any earlier.

With three hours to kill, therefore, Wyatt slowly meandered his way out of the hotel with no damn idea of where to go or what to do. Of course, there was one place he could go. Pulling out his phone, he unlocked the screen and though he now had plenty of service, he noted with a pang of disappointment that there was not one missed call, nor one missed text from Lucy…which made him feel all the more ridiculous for rushing into San Francisco in some lame-ass, desperate attempt to "save" her from a life she clearly didn't want to be saved from.

Determined more than ever to just drop off her damn bags and be done with it, Wyatt resolved right then and there that on his way home to San Diego the next day, he would just swing by Stanford and drop them off at her office. She obviously wasn't concerned about them, had made no attempt to contact him…and well, if he called her now, how much more pathetic would he be?

Still, he figured he should let her know that he was going to stop by…

His thumb hovered over her number as he agonized over calling her…what the hell would he even say? What would she say? What if she didn't even answer? What if Noah answered for her?

Seeing him in a state of obvious confusion and conflict, a doorman approached him jovially, "Anything I can assist you with, sir?"

Wyatt startled at his approach and quickly tucked away his phone, "Yeah, I…um…I have three hours until my room is ready and I…"

"You need some suggestions on how to spend your time?" Chuckling, the doorman motioned towards a waiting cable car, "You're in luck, sir. All three lines congregate right here, you have your choice of any place in the city. Though seeing as how we have a beautiful clear day, I'd have to recommend the wharf…they're calling for rain later this evening and all of tomorrow, so if you want to do it, now is the time to go."

Wyatt scoffed, hardly caring about where he went, just so long as he could keep himself busy and distracted…though, he realized with a sigh that being in San Francisco where would inevitably remind him of Lucy and their drive together, that was going to be damn hard to do.

"What the hell?" Wyatt let out with a shrug, "I've always wanted to see Alcatraz."

"Well then, sir, you'll want to take this trolley here to Pier 33. Ferries leave every half hour…have a pleasant day."

Wyatt thanked him as he made his way towards the trolley, though he felt his day would be anything but pleasant…particularly when he arrived at the pier and saw the Golden Gate Bridge looming in the background. It was just another damn thing that reminded him of her…and the orchestrated life she was leading…and damn it, this was a bad idea.

Still, Wyatt was determined. He had driven this far, had gone through the trouble and expense of getting a damn hotel room, trekked all the way down to the pier…he was going to see Alcatraz dammit, if it was the last thing he'd do.

Resolved, therefore, to not allow his regret over losing Lucy dictate how he spent the last day of his "vacation", Wyatt boarded the ferry for the Alcatraz tour, taking care to keep his back to the damn bridge that every single one of his fellow passengers seemed bound and determined to ooh and ahh over.

If Wyatt hoped that the tour of Alcatraz would distract him from his dark and brooding thoughts, those hopes were dashed to pieces almost the moment he set foot on the island when he found to his immense frustration, that their tour guide was a Stanford University graduate student. Immediately his thoughts went straight to Lucy – wondering this kid had been taught by her…or her mother…realizing with a scoff, that he probably had.

As Wyatt listened to him drone on about the history of the island and its famous inhabitants like Al Capone, George "Machine Gun" Kelly and "Whitey" Bulger, he couldn't help but think of how much of this information his guide might have learned from her. The kid knew his stuff, that was clear – no question seemed to intimidate or throw him - but while he seemed well versed in all the knowledge of the island, the prisoners, the escapes…and the closure of the prison, Wyatt couldn't help but think of how much more interesting Lucy would have been on this tour. The way she would have delved into the personal histories of the prisoners, the way she probably would have spent more time discussing its use during the Civil War and later, the Spanish American War, the way she would have told him some random bit of history about any number of the now vacant buildings and structures dotting the island…he had gone to Alcatraz to keep himself mentally distracted and yet, the entire visit was filled with nothing but thoughts of Lucy…and how much he missed her.

By the time he disembarked from the ferry, back onto Pier 33, Wyatt was considerably more miserable than he had been when he first arrived in San Francisco…and while he knew he really shouldn't have been surprised, surrounded as he was by Stanford sweatshirts and landmarks that readily brought her to mind, he hated it. After the rejuvenating reprieve he had in Yosemite, to come here and reopen an old wound, particularly when it was still so fresh, was beyond frustrating. He would go back to San Diego in worse shape than he had left…all because of a kiss and a couple of suitcases.

Dammit.

Brooding, he made his way down the wharf, his mood standing in sharp contrast to the blue skies and sunshine that had seemingly pulled just about everyone in and around the Bay Area from out of their homes and directly into his path. The squeals of laughter and snippets of gleeful conversations that met his ears as he made his way through the crowded path lined with shops and restaurants did nothing to heighten his mood…instead, it only served to sour it more. He envied every single one of them – their smiles, their happiness…the fact that not one of them was walking the wharf by themselves like he was.

What the hell was he thinking, coming here? He should have just stuck in out in Yosemite. To hell with the rain and Carol Preston. At least there, he was removed from…all of this. At least there, being alone wasn't quite so conspicuous. How many times had he hiked in the woods for hours without seeing another soul? How many times did he go down to breakfast only to find that, even though there was a good number of families present, there was an equal number of lone outdoorsmen that occupied the dining hall? It wasn't that he was self-conscious, he typically didn't give a damn – it was nothing for him to go out to a bar or catch a movie on his own…but being in San Francisco, without Lucy…knowing that he would have enjoyed the city a hell of a lot more with her at his side? Hell, at this point, he would have even taken Jessica's company if it meant that he didn't have to reiterate to the waitress at the small café that yes, he wanted a table for one and no, nobody was going to be joining him later.

As if he really needed the reminder.

Having had his fill of the wharf, Wyatt decided to just jump on the cable car and get a quick tour of the city, feeling kind of like an ass for doing so since it was the one thing Jessica had always said she had wanted to do in San Francisco….but then he remembered the jackass with the frosted tips answering her front door and decided he didn't feel so bad about the cable car after all.

To hell with her.

To hell with all of them.

All he wanted to do was try to be a better man, to make things right with his ex-wife, help someone in need…and this is what it cost him - heartache, misery…and a hell of a lot of regret. The sights of San Francisco gave him no pleasure…he was reminded at every turn of both his failed marriage and failed…almost relationship with a woman he should have never gotten involved with in the first place. His inner turmoil seemed to be reflected in the rolling storm clouds coming in just off the bay and for once, Wyatt felt a sense of comfort at their arrival as it gave him an excuse to retreat to his room and count down the hours when he would deliver Lucy's suitcases to Stanford and sever his only real and remaining tie to her.

And then maybe…just maybe…he could get on with his life.

As he disembarked from the trolley as it stopped in front of his palatial hotel, the low rumbling of thunder overhead announced the impending arrival of the coming storm and Wyatt quickly made his way into the lobby. Earlier, it had been nearly empty, but now, the entire room was filled with people in business suits and fine attire, crowding the bar and listening to a couple of dueling piano players in the atrium. Not caring to be social, Wyatt quickly made his way to the desk and obtained his key, taking no time to make his way up to his room where he found, much to his extreme frustration, that he had an amazing view…of none other than the damn Golden Gate Bridge.

Wrenching the curtains shut, he flopped down on the bed with a curse and flipped on the television, praying to God that something worthwhile was on so that he could at least find some sort of escape in what was proving to be his own personal hell. As he flicked through channel after channel, however, nothing caught his attention…that is, until he landed on a black and white movie and heard a somewhat familiar phrase and saw to his horror, an all too familiar situation.

"Behold the walls of Jericho…"

Wyatt gaped at the television, instantly transported to that awkward night, as the couple in the movie playing out before him, stood beside a bed sheet, haphazardly draped over a line in the middle of the room.

"maybe not as thick as the ones Joshua blew down with his trumpet…but a lot safer. You see, I have no trumpet."

The damn wall of Jericho…that sheet that Lucy swore was an impenetrable barrier as they lay in that bed together, side by side…hardly knowing one another. She had said it was from a movie…what was it again? Wyatt pulled up the guide and scoffed, It Happened One Night…yeah…that was for damn sure.

Fully annoyed now with fate or the universe of whatever the hell it was that kept torturing him, Wyatt stormed out of the room, fully prepared to get good and drunk at the damn bar. When he entered the elevator, however, he found, much to his frustration, that he was not alone.

A young couple, and from the looks of it – newly married, were completely wrapped around one another, hardly breaking apart as they made their slow descent to the lobby…a journey made all the more sluggish as the elevator stopped on just about every damn floor to let some other poor unsuspecting bastard intrude on what was fast becoming a completely unbearable situation for an already frustrated Wyatt.

The moment the elevator doors opened again, therefore, Wyatt bolted out, determined to take the damn stairs to the bar, but as the doors slid closed behind him, he wanted nothing more than to pry them back open and seal himself safely inside, fully prepared to deal with whatever uncomfortable situation was going on in there rather than face the absolute gut punch that was now staring him square in the face.

Lucy.

Well, not just Lucy…and not really her…but a picture of her…and her damn fiancé in glossy black and white looking every bit like the cutsy couple everybody believed them to be.

Wyatt knew better.

His breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the placard standing just outside the ballroom doors directly opposite the elevator announcing the location of what could only be, their engagement party. Within, he could see a bustling of activity, indicating to him that it hadn't yet started, but would be soon…how soon, he didn't want to know…because he couldn't even bring himself to look at it.

Of all the hotels in San Francisco, what were the damn odds he would wind up in the one that had been the chosen venue for this…this…party that Lucy, herself, had avoided like the damn plague?

He couldn't stay here…he wouldn't stay here…how could he? Knowing that just a few floors below him Lucy was affirming her engagement to a man she didn't love to an entire room filled with all of her friends and family?

Nauseated at the thought, Wyatt made his way to the lobby, making up some excuse as to why he had to leave…only getting credited a partial refund, but he didn't give a damn about that…all he cared about was getting the hell out of that hotel and out of the city as soon as he possibly could.

Figuring he could still just drop Lucy's bags off at Stanford, Wyatt directed his Jeep towards 101 South, determined that once he made that brief stop in Palo Alto, he would hightail it the rest of the way to San Diego and never look back. The only problem was that it was now just after five o'clock…on a Friday night…and it was just about to storm. Cursing his bad luck and bad timing, Wyatt groaned at the gridlock that was rush hour traffic in San Francisco. Spread out before him, as far as his eye could see were nothing but red taillights, the glare from which contrasted sharply with the inky black sky, which only made them all the more irritating.

The traffic inched forward slowly at first, but after two or three miles it began to pick up a bit more speed, coming to an abrupt halt every so often as people merged in and out of the lanes ahead of him. Fat raindrops began to splatter on the windshield and Wyatt let out a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. This trip was supposed to have been for some much needed rest and relaxation, it wouldn't do him one damn bit of good to show up in San Diego in worse shape than he already was…he needed to calm down…"reset and reflect" as his old buddy Bam Bam would say.

Determined to do just that, Wyatt forced himself to think of the positives of this trip…but seeing how almost every positive was somehow connected with Lucy, he decided that maybe that wasn't the best way to go about it. Instead, he figured he'd focus on the here and now…that he could see this traffic as a blessing. If there hadn't been traffic, he reasoned, he probably would have shot out of San Francisco like a bat out of hell and wound up with a speeding ticket the size of a mortgage payment…or worse. An accident would definitely be worse…and he didn't really need to add that misfortune to his current list, so yeah…maybe this traffic wasn't so bad. At least, he reasoned, it was moving…not like the traffic going North, he noted with a chuckle as he observed the long rows of cars at an absolute standstill on the opposite side of the median.

"It could always be worse." Wyatt muttered to no one but himself as his lane, once again, began to ease forward…and while he absolutely took no pleasure in other's people's frustration and pain – in this case, however, he was absolutely grateful he was not one of the poor bastards on that side of the road. It wasn't much of a victory, but to him…with all of his recent and not so recent misfortunes, it was something…and that meant everything.

The traffic was moving pretty steadily now, not nearly close to the speed limit, but well enough that he felt like he was actually making some progress when the sound of a horn drew his attention back to the northbound lanes which were still in a state of complete gridlock. Turning on his radio, he discovered the congestion was caused, in part, by a five-car pile-up closer to the city, near San Bruno and several stalled vehicles all along the Bayshore Freeway corridor to Santa Clara.

"Well," Wyatt muttered with a sigh, "they won't be going anywhere for a while."

He had just cleared a turn in the road, when one of the stalled vehicles came into view; a Honda Civic, hazards blinking, already parked on the side of the road…and the driver…a brunette in a raincoat digging around in the trunk…

"Shit." Wyatt slammed on his brakes just in time to miss hitting the stopped car in front of him. Shaking slightly from the near miss, Wyatt turned his incredulous gaze to the car just opposite him on the other side of the road.

It couldn't be…there was no way in hell his luck was that damn bad.

He peered through his rain strewn window in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the brunette's face, but his lane was moving once again and his attention was pulled once more to the road in front of him.

He tried to brush it off, ignore it, dismiss the likeness, the car, as just a coincidence…but as his traffic slowed to a stop again, his curiosity got the better of him. Pulling over to the shoulder, Wyatt was determined to get visual confirmation that the woman now pacing on the side of the road was not Lucy, when his cell phone rang.

With Damsel in Distress, flashing across his screen, Wyatt quickly got out of his Jeep and pressed his phone to his ear, craning his neck to look around a big semi-truck who had blocked the woman from his view, "Lucy?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, Wyatt, thank God." came her muffled reply. Wyatt could see her now, phone against her ear, pacing next to her car, looking absolutely distraught. With a heavy sigh, he began to make his way across the lines of traffic back towards her "Listen" she was saying quickly, though Wyatt was hardly paying attention, "I know I'm the last person you probably want to talk to right now, but…"

"What's wrong with your car this time?" Wyatt asked as he eased himself between a Toyota Forerunner and a Kia Sorento to get to her.

Nearly dropping her phone in surprise at the sight of him, Lucy stammered, "How…how…you're here. How are you here?"

Wyatt felt a tug at his heart at the sight of her, wishing he could do more than just stand apart from her as she stared back at him, but he brushed it aside, remembering with a pang that she was obviously headed to her engagement party. Pointing to his Jeep on the opposite side of the road, Wyatt shrugged, 'Well, you know me…always in the wrong place at the right time."

Tears welled in Lucy's eyes as she continued to gape at him, "Wyatt, I…I…"

"What's wrong with your car, Lucy?" he asked somewhat impatiently…because every second he spent with her was just adding to his misery.

"Flat tire." she responded in a voice choked with emotion. "I was tr…trying to do everything you taught me…but I can't…I can't seem to find the spare."

Offering her a sardonic smirk, Wyatt made his way over to the trunk and lifted the lid to the tire well, only to find it frustratingly empty. "You don't have a spare tire?" he asked in exasperation. "How the hell do you not have a spare tire?"

"Well, I don't know." Lucy responded defensively, "I bought this car used…I told you I never changed a tire before…how was I supposed to know? Ugh," she breathed out in frustration, throwing her hands over her face, "This is great…just great."

"You got roadside assistance on this thing?" Wyatt asked with a shrug.

"I think so," she replied shakily, walking over to her passenger door and opening her glove compartment, "but in this traffic, how soon do you think they're going to get here?" Shaking her head again and fighting back tears, Lucy sank down in her car seat and moaned, "This is a complete disaster. I should've known something like this would happen. With a quick look at Wyatt she shrugged slightly and muttered as she pulled out her phone and began punching in a number, "I guess it serves me right."

While a small part of Wyatt wanted to agree with Lucy that she was, in fact, reaping a bit of what she had sown, the larger part of him couldn't bring himself to condemn her. She hadn't made him fall for her…he had done that himself. And now, well now that she had decided to marry Noah, fate had left her stranded on the side of the damn road…again.

"Hello?" she breathed out as whomever she had called answered the phone, "Yeah, I just called…yes, it's Lucy. Look, there's no way I'm going to be able to get there tonight…I'm…I'm stranded. I know…I know, believe me, the last thing I want to do is cancel, but I really don't have a choice, I…"

"No, Lucy." Wyatt offered with a heavy sigh as he dragged a rough hand across his face, "don't…don't cancel…" he muttered, hardly believing the words that were coming out of his mouth, "I'll take you to the hotel, okay?"

Looking up at him in surprise, Lucy startled before muttering back into the phone, "Hang on, okay? I'll call you right back." Turning to face Wyatt, she narrowed her eyes, "Wyatt…what…what are you saying?"

"I'm trying to be the bigger person here, Lucy." Wyatt explained with a huff. "You're never going to get to your party in time if you sit around here and wait for a tow truck…and there's no need for you to cancel…" he said, even as his heart broke in two all over again, "not when I can take you."

"Hotel? What are you…how did you…" she asked before realization dawned on her face, "Oh…right…he invited you." A furious blush spread across her cheek as she shook her head and began to stammer, "Wyatt, about that…I'm…I'm so so sorry…"

"You don't have to apologize Lucy, okay? I get it." He said with a reassuring nod, though he couldn't quite meet her eye, "I shouldn't have ever expected…I mean, I didn't expect….I mean…the point is, I don't blame you, all right? You're free to make your own choices." He scoffed as she shook her head at him, "Come on, you're gonna be soaked if you stay out here much longer…let's get you to your engagement party."

He turned to lead the way back to his Jeep when Lucy's quiet voice stopped him dead in his tracks, "I'm…I'm not going to the party." Wyatt slowly turned again to look at her, thinking that maybe he had misheard her…praying to God that he hadn't when she continued, "I uh…I couldn't go through with it ," she admitted through tears and Wyatt noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing her rock of an engagement ring.

"I just…I kept thinking about everything you said." Lucy explained as tears made their way down her cheeks, "You were right. It's not fair. Noah deserves to be with someone who actually loves him back…and that…that's not me…" she admitted, before adding meaningfully, "no matter how much my mother wants it to be."

Not missing her allusion to their fight outside of Stanford, Wyatt groaned, "Lucy…I…I didn't…"

"You were right about that too." she added in a voice choked with emotion, "I knew…when she told me…I knew," she admitted ruefully, "I just…I wanted to believe it was all real, you know?"

"Lucy…"

"My mother is furious…when I told her I was having second thoughts, she blamed it on the offer from San Diego…told me I was making the biggest mistake of my life…told me to wait until she got back home so we could "discuss it." Lucy let out a scoff, "I knew then that I had to do something…I couldn't…I couldn't stay here. I had to carve my own path…make my own future." She let out a watery chuckle as she continued, "So, I ended things with Noah and did what you told me to." She looked up at Wyatt expectantly, but at his look of confusion she explained, "When we were changing that tire together…you told me someday I might have to save myself…so I did…or at least," she added with a derisive laugh, "I tried to…until this happened. Ironic, right?"

Wyatt stared back at her, amazed that she had taken something he had merely said in passing…hell, something that had nothing to do with…he was just talking about road safety…but she…she had taken it to heart. "Lucy, I…I didn't mean…I shouldn't have…"

"Yes, Wyatt…you should have." Lucy interrupted him with a firm nod of her head, "All of my life, I've been told what to do…my life has been plotted out from start to finish. No one…no one ever encouraged me to take control of my own life…until you."

Wyatt was trying to think of something to say, hardly knowing how to respond to…all of this when Lucy took one step forward and kissed him, taking him completely by surprise. It didn't last long, so stunned was he at what she had done, he did little more than gape at her as she stepped away from him in embarrassment and shame. "I…I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen you again." she explained quietly, keeping her eyes cast down to the ground, 'When you left with my bags, I thought that maybe…but then, you didn't…not that I blamed you for not wanting to…" she let out a small sob as she quietly muttered, "I'm so sorry, Wyatt."

"I…I wanted to." Wyatt admitted quietly, still gaping at her slightly, "I just…I didn't have service. I went to the mountains…" he explained with a meaningful nod, "I just couldn't stay here."

"Oh." Lucy nodded, still looking hurt and embarrassed as she muttered, "I see." She sniffed slightly, attempting but failing to look nonchalant, as she replied with a frown, "I…just thought…well, I thought you probably didn't want to have anything to do with me after…"

As if finally coming to his senses, Wyatt quickly pulled her to him in one swift move, capturing her lips with his own in one desperate, heartfelt kiss. Just as with their kiss on the pier, something powerful ignited within him…surging through him with an energy that completely overwhelmed his senses. Every touch, every sigh, every feel of her in his arms resonated deep within him until he had no choice but to pull away from her, breathless and more than a little weak-kneed.

"Wow." Lucy breathed out, looking a little dazed.

"Yeah." Wyatt answered with a gulp before diving back in for another desperate kiss. His hands buried in her wet curls, hardly believing that after all of the heartache, all of the misery he had suffered, Lucy was back in his arms...free to hold, to kiss, to hug for as long as he wanted. He didn't give a damn about the rain; it, the traffic, the sounds of car horns, all melted away...until Lucy pulled away from him, gasping for air.

Leaning her forehead against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "I…I know this is going to sound crazy," she said breathlessly, "but…I think…I think I might be in love with you."

Smirking, Wyatt pressed a kiss to her nose, "You're right." he said with a teasing grin, "it does sound crazy. But" he added as he touched his forehead against hers again, "I'm pretty damn sure I'm in love with you too…so I really don't…"

At that moment, however, Lucy silenced him with another kiss…and Wyatt completely lost his train of thought.

"Um…" Wyatt stammered, when they found it necessary to breathe again, "wh…where did you say you were going?"

"Hmmm?" Lucy asked absent-mindedly, before startling to her senses, "Oh…San Diego…I decided to take the guest lecturer position, after all."

Wyatt couldn't help but smirk at the thought of how disappointed Carol Preston would be to find out that after what amounted to no more than a hissy fit in Yosemite, Lucy was going to take James' offer after all. "Good for you." he said with serious nod, which soon turned to a teasing grin as he noted the direction she was heading, "I hate to break it to you, ma'am," he began, recalling what he said to her when they first met, "but San Diego is that way."

Grinning broadly at the memory, Lucy wrapped her arms around Wyatt's waist and offered him a sardonic glare, "Uh-huh…but the airport is that way." she said with a nod towards San Francisco, "They want to meet with me on Monday morning…I just, after talking with my mother, I thought it would be best to get out of here as soon as possible." She let out a derisive laugh as she added, "Guess that didn't work out too well, huh?"

"Well, I don't know about that." Wyatt said meaningfully, before pulling her in for another kiss. "You know," he added with a devilish smirk when they broke apart again, "I'm going to San Diego, myself."

"Is that so?" Lucy asked in feigned astonishment. "What are the odds?"

Wyatt raised his eyebrows before answering with a soft smile, "I know. Some might even call it…fate."

Happy tears welled up in Lucy's eyes as she shook her head at him incredulously, "I thought…I thought you said you didn't believe in fate?"

"I didn't." Wyatt admitted, taking her hand in his, "until I met you." Lucy let out a small gasp as Wyatt pressed her fingers to his lips, before tugging her along behind him, "Come on…let's go." he said as he began leading her through the stopped traffic, helping her over the median and walking with her hand in hand until they arrived at his Jeep.

They were just making their way over to the passenger door when she turned to him suddenly and gasped, "Wait a minute…what about my car, my bags…my airline ticket?"

Unfazed, Wyatt shrugged, "You can always tow your car…and if you really want to go to the airport, Lucy…I'll take you to the airport. Or," he said with another devilish grin, "you can cancel your ticket and ride with me…though I feel like I should tell you, ma'am...if you do ride with me, I can pretty much guarantee we won't make it to San Diego until Sunday at the latest."

"So, we're taking the scenic route?" Lucy asked with a devilish grin of her own.

"God, I hope so." Wyatt groaned as she pressed another kiss to his lips, before she smiled at him knowingly and waited as he opened her door for her.

"You sure you're okay with picking up another desperate woman from the side of the road?" Lucy teased him. "I thought that was frowned upon?"

"I don't know," Wyatt shrugged, "It seemed to have worked out for me last time…and besides," he said with another grin, "I really don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Oh really?" Lucy asked with a smile as she slid into the seat and looked up at Wyatt, "And why is that?"

"Because," Wyatt said with a smirk, "I still have your suitcases."

Notes:

And that's the end...for now, at least. I MAY do an epilogue for this which would be a year jump into the future with their engagement and their start at Mason...but I may also do that as a flashback scene in the other Torrent companion piece I have planned...I haven't quite decided how I want to do it, but either way, it won't manifest itself in fic form until I begin to seriously start writing that other timeline story...and that's not happening right now. I apologize if anyone is disappointed, but as I need to focus on getting Stranded done and poor WMHB which has been so neglected these past few months, I need to let this one be "finished" for a little while before we revisit this timeline to get us to "Lucy and Wyatt are engaged...what?" when they get back from Vegas in 62. Again, if you haven't read Torrent, I'm sure that is completely confusing..but there it is.

In planning this fic, I really didn't want Wyatt saving Lucy...I wanted her to be the one who took a stand even if it meant that she would never see Wyatt again. The whole reason this timeline even exists is because of what Wyatt did in '62 (in Torrent) and so the whole fate thing was something I wanted to focus on...in this last chapter especially. How everything just seemed to be constantly pulling the two of these knuckleheads together.

I just want to thank you for taking the time to read this & for your immense patience as I struggled to juggle real life with that of writing...so thank you again, for sticking with me. Stay tuned for more of the Torrent timelines...I do have the first chapter of the Vegas timeline sort of in the works, but again, my main focus is on my other fics right now, so please be patient.

Thank you again and I hope you all are healthy and happy as we continue to muddle through life in isolation.