Hey guys! So this is my first fic so please be kind, constructive criticism always welcome! I've been infatuated with Timeless since it premiered and I absolutely adore Wyatt and Lucy's relationship so I thought this would be a good first story to attempt. Just a one shot for now but I might continue it if anyone is interested! Thanks for reading and enjoy :)
They finally stumbled through the open doorway, rain beating at their backs and the storm raging behind them. He knew he shouldn't have gone along with Lucy's suggestion to walk home from the bar but she had batted those long lashes and big doe eyes at him, insisting that it was such a nice night and she could use the air, until he had caved under the pressure. They had gotten caught in a massive down pour that came out of nowhere when they were a little more than halfway to his place, not a cab in sight of course. They had run the rest of the way, finally making it to his apartment as thunder continued to rumble loudly overhead in perfect harmony with the bolts of lightning streaking across the night sky.
Wyatt shut the door quickly behind them and turned to see Lucy struggling to get out of her shoes, hopping on one foot and dripping water all over his entry way rug. He slipped his shoes off and unbuttoned his flannel, hanging it up to dry. He continued to watch as she lost her balance and tumbled forward, swearing to herself as she toppled over, one foot still half stuck in her boot. He tried not to laugh, he really did, but she just looked so damn cute all wet and disgruntled on his floor. At the sound of him attempting to smother a chuckle, she shot him a glare which only made him roar louder with laughter. She tried to contain a grin of her own but ultimately decided that since she heard him laugh so rarely, she couldn't be too upset when she was inadvertently the cause of it. It was such a nice laugh after all. She found herself chuckling as she gave up and decided to just lie down on the floor.
"Need some help ma'am?"
She looked up into Wyatt's face, grinning at her upside down as she lay on the floor. Eyes really shouldn't be allowed to be that blue, she thought to herself. The eyes combined with that sexy smirk were a lethal combination. Oh my god did she just refer to Wyatt as sexy?! You should not have had that last glass of wine Lucy, get it together and stop thinking about Wyatt and his eyes and his lips and his broad shoulders and very nice butt and…. STOP IT. She continued to internally berate herself, not realizing that she was now staring at Wyatt, wide eyed and blushing, as his expression changed to one of concern.
"Lucy are you okay? Here let me help you up."
He reached for her to haul her up, not realizing that her foot was still caught halfway in her boot, causing her to stumble forward again. She realized she would've found herself on the floor once again if Wyatt hadn't caught her, as if falling in front of him once hadn't been humiliation enough already. She laughed nervously,
"Sorry about that, one too many glasses of wine. I told you that I should've been cut off but Jiya's an enabler."
She babbled up at him, avoiding eye contact as she leaned away from his embrace and tried to shake her boot the rest of the way off her foot.
"Right because you're normally so graceful" he replied with another grin.
She glanced up at him in mock outrage, "Hey! I am a professor not a Delta Force soldier and do I need to remind you that I climbed through a window in 1972 to save your sorry butt."
"Fell. You fell through a window in 1972 to save my sorry butt." He chuckled as she finally got her foot free from her wet boot, falling against him again as the boot was dislodged across his living room.
"Semantics." She replied, looking up at him with laughter in her eyes again.
"You do alright," He said with another smirk, his hand had somehow moved to her face, smoothing the rain slicked tendrils from her cheek and then cupping the back of her neck. His other arm had taken on a life of its own, pulling her tighter against him.
"For a civilian." He added quietly, his face softening. He could feel every one of her curves pressed against him, God she really was beautiful. Even soaking wet falling all over his entry way. He found her klutz like tendencies endearing, her intelligence attractive, her loyalty and faith in him humbling, and the rest of her just plain sexy. Jesus did he just refer to her as sexy? He mentally lectured himself but continued to hold her, staring into her big brown eyes fringed with thick dark lashes that were wet with rain. The spell was broken when he felt her shiver against him, God here he was practically holding her hostage when she was probably freezing. He released her and jumped back with a sheepish look on his face, one hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but at her.
"Here let me turn the heat up and grab you a towel, I can make some tea or something if you want to shower."
Oh god and now he was thinking about her in the shower, naked, surrounded by steam….he really needed to get a grip. And "make some tea or something?" Where the hell had that come from. Did he even own any tea? He could check. Yes, he should check. He should also stop thinking of his coworker naked. He decided to start with the tea as he headed back towards the kitchen.
Why was Wyatt acting so weird? She could've sworn he was about kiss her and she was surprised to realize she was about to let him. She even shivered in anticipation, God how embarrassing. But why does he look embarrassed?
"Yeah tea sounds great," She replied lamely. "I'll just umm wait…I'll just wait here…"
She finished, cursing herself for sounding like a complete idiot. She had been about to say the living room but remembered that she was still soaking wet, still dripping all over the floor in the hallway.
She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it, about the…. possibilities between her and Wyatt but the timing had seemed off. Finding out her Mother was the head honcho of Rittenhouse coupled with the fact that Emma had stolen the Mothership and they were not chasing her through history didn't exactly pave the way for romance. But the past few months they had grown closer, she had stayed with him while she was looking for an apartment and even after she found one, she ended up crashing on his couch a few nights a week. She thought maybe they both just felt safer with that arrangement, she always felt safer when he was nearby and he didn't seem to mind the company. They watched old movies, went out for drinks with Jiya and Rufus, cooked dinner together, and sometimes they just kept each other company. Her working on her book, him watching TV, they had grown comfortable in each other's presence and Lucy was thankful to have him as one of the few reliable constants in her life.
But then there were the other moments; the long looks, the lingering touches, moments where the air felt so charged with sexual tension she wondered they didn't both just burst into flame. She hadn't quite worked up the courage to broach the subject with him yet though, fear of rejection plus the very real possibility of losing him and the carefully built friendship they had formed always stopped her. But if he shot her another one of those lingering blue-eyed stares tonight she was a goner.
She shivered again and realized she was cold. She figured she could at least take her coat and sweater off, borrow a sweatshirt from Wyatt for the time being. No one had to know that she also had one of his old Army t-shirts that he had leant her one night after a typical Lucy klutz moment involving some red wine. She had washed it, folded it, meant to give it back to him but it had somehow ended up in her dresser and had become a favorite shirt to sleep in. Yeah, that would continue to be her little secret. She absently wondered if she could bring it back and have him wear it for a while, just until it smelled like him again, then it could casually go missing. God, she was losing it, get a grip Lucy.
She hung her coat up by the door and lifted her arms to take her sweater off but felt her tank top come up as well, stuck to the thin fabric of her sweater that was soaked by the rain. She sighed in frustration and tried to tug it down but only succeeded in tangling her arm further into her sweater.
It was then that Wyatt chose to walk back in, carrying a towel and a cup of tea (he wasn't even sure when he had bought tea or where it came from but figured it would have to do).
"Hey Luce, I managed to scrounge up some tea and here's a towel if you want to take a—" he trailed off, eyes wide, as he stared at her. She had her arms up over her head, the sweater covering her eyes, and her tank top up so high he could see the underside of her black bra as well as the smooth skin of her stomach. He had to physically snatch his fingers back from reaching for her.
"Wyatt?" He heard her say, "could you maybe…I could use some help. Could you just hold my tank top down so I can get this damn sweater off? And do not even think about laughing at me right now of I will tell Rufus that you cried watching Marley & Me with me the other day."
Did she really think he was capable of laughter right now? He tried to swallow but his throat was so dry, his body was on full alert and he couldn't take his eyes off her.
"Wyatt? Hello?"
"Right sorry, hold on a sec" He finally managed to get his brain to function again, setting the tea and towel down on the table, he walked over to her.
"Um so I should just…" He gently pulled her tank top back down over her stomach, anchored it there with his hands on her hips as he felt her tense, "I'll just um, I'll hold it like this?"
At the touch of his hands on her bare skin she froze, she was suddenly realizing how close he was and what a potentially compromising position they were now in. She untangled herself and pulled the sweater up over her head, he pulled her closer as it landed with a wet PLOP on the floor.
Her arms lowered slowly until her hands rested on his shoulders, instinctively inching closer to him.
He could see the question in her eyes as his head lowered to hers and he was reminded of the first and only time he had ever kissed her, 1934 Arkansas in front of Bonnie and Clyde. He thought about that kiss a lot more than he would care to admit; it was the first time he had really started to believe that maybe, if you're really lucky, lightning sometimes does strike in the same place twice. He had felt something when he kissed her, felt something he wasn't at all prepared to be feeling for his beautiful brave know-it-all bossy historian coworker. He felt that same something move through him again as he held her in his arms, her lips just inches from his.
He closed the distance between them and touched his lips to hers, softly at first, testing the waters. At her immediate response and soft sigh, he deepened the kiss, he felt his body tense as she nipped his lower lip, sliding her arms up to loop around his neck.
He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.
He smiled as he said, "Would it be weird of me to say I've been waiting 83 years to do that again?"
She chuckled as she pulled back to look at him, desire turning his eyes an even darker blue and a small smirk on his face. She placed her hand on his cheek, much as she'd done in Arkansas, trying to figure out what he was thinking.
"I'm glad you finally got around to it," she responded with a smile.
TBC? Maybe? Who knows :D