"Wyatt!"

Ice ran through Lucy's veins when she heard Jiya scream the soldier's name. The historian was out of the Lifeboat in a second, scrambling for the earbud she'd left on the stairs. With Rufus' in Jiya's ear to maintain contact with Wyatt, it hadn't made sense for her to travel back to 1973 with her singular comm; plus Rufus wasn't sure if it would somehow disturb the existing signal so she hadn't taken the chance.

She quickly stuffed it back into her ear, only hearing background noises: running footsteps, a car screeching into gear.

"What's happening?" Rufus said, from over her shoulder.

Lucy looked back, eyes wide with panic, before turning her gaze to Jiya

"Since you hadn't left yet, he handed over the package," the female tech explained. "Then, he got hit by a dart of some sort. Maybe a tranq? I didn't get a good look before he turned away."

Lucy sprinted down the temporary stairs and back up to the mezzanine. "Do we still have the feed from his glasses?"

"Yes, but it's nothing useful." Jiya stopped typing long enough to point to a monitor to her right, which held a tilted view of the road to Pendleton. The glasses were obviously still transmitting judging by the minor changes in scenery but no useful sights or sounds were resonating from it or the bug in Wyatt's watch. "Just empty road."

Before Lucy could speak again, Denise Christopher walked over. "What are you still doing here?" the Homeland agent demanded. "You need to be heading back to 1973."

Long ago, Lucy had stopped being surprised by the vastness of Christopher's network and how the woman tended to appear at the right time, without being notified. "Wyatt's in trouble," Lucy stated, clasping her hands together to stop the shaking.

"And so are you if you don't go on your trip," Christopher responded, gesturing at the waiting Lifeboat.

"We are not—"

"You don't have a choice," Christopher interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you don't save Spitzer now, you're leaving a ten minute window in 1973 for someone to take advantage of later on. You can't take that risk, especially now that Emma has whatever was in that locker."

Deep down, Lucy knew the Homeland agent was right but she still couldn't justify leaving Wyatt, not after everything they'd been through together.

"I'll call SDPD and have them send an ambulance. Jiya and I will stay on the comm in case he comes around. But you need to go."

"Lucy," Rufus said from behind her. "Christopher's right."

Lucy hated the whole situation and now herself for making this choice, but she nodded and followed Rufus to the Lifeboat.

They had been fully dressed since arriving at MI and the team had been preparing the Lifeboat since their last call to Mason. Given the hack, Mason had ordered the Lifeboat to be inspected by two separate parties, which was the only reason they hadn't been allowed to leave when Wyatt had suggested it. While Lucy was thankful for the effort (she had no desire to get stuck in 1973 and run the risk of breaking the timeline by running into herself in ten years), she needed them to hurry.

"It's ready," a tech named Jason said four achingly long minutes later.

Rufus immediately began the launch procedure while Lucy fumbled with the bulky buckles of her seat belt. She couldn't help staring at the empty seat across from her, praying Wyatt was alright.

The Lifeboat set down in 1973 at exactly the same time as the Mothership's first arrival. However, despite reading the maps ahead of time, by the time Lucy and Rufus arrived at the alley Spitzer had mentioned walking past, the man in question was already unconscious and Emma had taken a photograph of him and her new assistant. As Emma walked off to the right, Henry immediately started dragging Spitzer from the alleyway into an empty storefront.

Rufus rose up from their hiding spot, ready to follow Emma, but Lucy tugged him back down. As much as she disliked Emma, the female pilot was not their target for this mission.

"What's our play?" Rufus asked Lucy, now that they had a sense of their surroundings.

"Distract Emma's goon, then save Spitzer."

"Great. More specific?"

"One of us gets his attention, the other sneaks around back and gets Spitzer out. Then we have Spitzer file a police report so Emma can't go after him so easily anymore."

"Can't we just call the cops and have them deal with it?"

"We can't get Emma's guy arrested."

Rufus blinked. "Why the hell not?"

"Think about it. What would you do if your boss left you forty years in the past?"

Rufus exhaled slowly. "I see your point. So we leave him for Emma to come pick up." He nodded more animatedly after a moment. "That explains the second trip. She left the gap in between so she could come back if Wyatt didn't do as she asked." Then he paused for a split second. "We need to go now though, to limit the time she can come back to."

Lucy nodded as she took a quick peek out of the alleyway they were hiding in. "Front or back?"

"Can you pick a lock?" Rufus queried, receiving a head shake in response. "So I'll take the back, you distract him."

Lucy nodded again. "Be careful, okay?" she added as Rufus stood to leave.

"You too," the pilot replied before he crossed the street and disappeared into the alley behind the storefront Henry was hiding out in.

Lucy waited another beat then crossed the street herself. She walked up to the large front door and knocked determinedly when it refused to open. "Hello?" she called out, loud enough to be heard in the back of the store. She waited a few seconds then knocked harder and longer.

After almost a minute, Emma's henchman finally cracked open the wooden front door. "We're closed," he growled, quickly pulling his head back into the building.

"I know, but," Lucy paused to actually scan the name of the store before continuing, "I really need to speak to my accountant. I just got a phone call from the IRS saying they were gonna audit me."

Behind the henchman, she could see Rufus sneaking in, finger held to his lips.

"—and I can't get a hold of my husband," Lucy continued, practically yelling with a frustration that wasn't as fake as it was meant to be. "And they're coming by tomorrow. And I just really need to talk—"

That's when their plan fell apart. Rufus was carrying Spitzer out the back hallway but hadn't turned enough to account for the man's swinging legs, which cracked painfully against the wall.

Emma's goon turned around, hand reaching for the holster at his waist, and, for once, Lucy didn't think; she just reacted. She swung the heavy door closed with all her might, crashing it right into the goon's head. The man collapsed to the ground while Lucy quickly stepped into the accounting firm, pulling the door closed behind her for good measure. The door connected with the goon's head for a second time and he immediately slacked into unconsciousness.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed at Rufus, pulling out the henchman's gun and pointing it at him with a shaking hand.

"He's heavy," the tech fired back.

He had just readjusted Spitzer and taken another step down the hallway when Lucy stopped him. "Just wake him up here," she suggested, "so we can keep an eye on this one." She tilted the barrel of the gun at the unconscious henchman.

With some difficulty, Rufus leaned Spitzer against the wall then, after scanning the room, filled a cup at the water cooler and threw it on Spitzer's face. The man straightened up, sputtering, eyes filled with terror as they landed on Rufus. A beat later, he was on his feet and swinging at the pilot.

"We're the good guys," Rufus cried, ducking under Spitzer's punch.

"Shh," Lucy hissed as Emma's goon twitched.

"We saw that guy knock you out," Rufus explained in as calm a tone as he could manage while pointing furiously to Emma's henchman, "and followed him to see if we could help."

Spitzer seemed to recognize the truth in this for he stopped swinging. "We should call the police," he stated, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Yes," Rufus replied but was cut off by Lucy saying, "Not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Spitzer demanded.

"The situation is complicated. He's—"

"Wanted by the FBI," Rufus chimed in when Lucy's excuse faltered. "We're consultants," he added, pointedly ignoring Spitzer's look of disbelief. "So you need to report your attack to the police and describe this guy, but we'll take him into our custody and coordinate with the LEOs later."

Spitzer didn't look entirely convinced but eventually he nodded.

"You need to go straight to the police," Lucy reiterated. "It's very important you report this right away, before the rest of his crew strikes."

Sptizer's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as he nodded. "Okay, I'll go right now."

He took a step toward the front door but Rufus grabbed his shoulders and swung him toward the back. "That way. And thank you."

As soon as he was gone, Lucy began stepping back toward Rufus. "Let's get out of her before he wakes up."

The pilot nodded, then a beat later, they headed for the door as fast as they could.

Exactly one second after returning to consciousness, Wyatt lurched upright. Or well, he tried to, before two people wearing brightly colored vests held him down.

"Master Sergeant Logan, I need you to calm down," one of them said. "Agent Denise Christopher says to tell you it's being handled and that all you need to worry about is getting checked out at the hospital."

Wyatt relaxed just long enough for the two women to release him. Then he tried to force himself to his feet. "I'm—" was all he managed before the world tilted and he was sent reaching for the side of the ambulance...which he was standing inside of.

Crap.

"We don't know what you were injected with or how your body is reacting to it," the second EMT said from over Wyatt's right shoulder, trying to gently escort him back to the gurney. "We need to run some tests—"

"My team is out there," Wyatt shot back, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand. "I need to go."

"Agent Christopher said you might say that," the blond EMT said as she handed over her cell phone. "She also said the only way to get you to calm down was for you to call her directly."

Wyatt nodded gratefully at the woman, grabbing again at a protruding shelf when the world tilted, then dialed Christopher.

"Are you alright?" the Homeland agent demanded before Wyatt could speak up.

"I'm fine. How are Rufus and Lucy?" Then Wyatt paused, white hot fear shooting through his system. "You do know who Lucy Preston is, right?"

"I do. She's one-third of our time travelling team, currently back in 1973 with pilot Rufus Carlin."

That was good enough for Wyatt. "How long have they been gone?" he asked, accepting the bottle of water the EMT held out and downing half of it in one swig.

"Ten minutes. And, before you ask, we don't know when they'll be back."

Not ideal but he wasn't going to get a better answer in the near future. "Where is Emma?" he asked, switching subjects.

"There's an APB out on her SUV and all private planes in the San Diego area have been grounded until the passengers are searched."

A memory floated up through the light fog in Wyatt's brain. "I have the N-number," he said, immediately racking off the registration number of the plane he, Emma, Henry and Brock had taken to San Diego.

"Jiya?" Christopher asked.

"Searching it now," the female tech responded in the background.

"How—"

"We'll get Emma, Wyatt," Christopher gently interrupted. "Before she hurts Spitzer. I firmly believe that."

Then one of the EMTs was tugging on his sleeve. "Now that you've been assured your team is fine, we really need to check you out, Master Sergeant Logan."

"List to the poor woman," Christopher ordered. "And when you're done, you can catch the next flight out of SAN, any airline. Mason's already cleared you."

"You'll call me—"

"Of course." Then, she hung up.

Wyatt wiped off the EMT's phone on his shirt then handed it back. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the woman said, as she slid it into her pocket. "Now please sit down, so we can get going to the airport."

Smiling thankfully for the strings that were being pulled to get him back to San Francisco, Wyatt did as he was told.

When Wyatt walked out of the security checkpoint at SFO two hours later, Rufus and Lucy were waiting for him. He picked up the pace and pulled both Lucy and Rufus into a semi-awkward, but well-intentioned hug.

"You're okay," he breathed, in Lucy's general direction. Rufus had the foresight to slip out of the hug, allowing Wyatt and Lucy their pseudo-private moment, between the flight's other passengers who were pushing past them to get on the escalator.

"So are you," she replied, the pad of her thumb lightly brushing past the cut on his cheek.

"I'm fine," he said with a breathy laugh, catching her hand in his. "How's Spitzer?"

"Totally fine. At 10:13 AM, he walked into the police station, filed a report and even sat down with a sketch artist. Apparently he wasn't ever bothered again."

"So you're safe."

She nodded, then pulled him into another hug.

As much as Wyatt hated to ruin the moment, he had to find out what was happening with their search for Emma.

"Oh, she's in custody," Rufus said with a wide grin.

Wyatt stared at him blankly. "Whose custody?"

"Homeland."

Wyatt was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. "How?"

"They evaded the mandatory search but airport security and SDPD stopped their plane from taking off. They're at some black site now, being debriefed."

It took a minute for Wyatt's brain to process that statement. He would never have expected that their mission to stop Emma would have ended so quickly, in the present, no less.

"And the envelope?"

"Christopher has it." Rufus shook his head sadly. "I didn't even get to see what was in it."

"What are they going to do with it?"

"I don't think she's sure yet, but she and Mason are confident they'll come up with something."

Wyatt grinned so widely his injured cheekbone began to ache. "C'mon," he said, gently pushing Rufus and Lucy toward the escalator. "Let's get out of here."

Epilogue:

Emma Whitmore was sitting in a small metal room, chained to a small metal table, her ankles attached to a metal ring soldered into the floor. She tapped her fingers anxiously against the table, the reverb the only sound in an otherwise completely silent room.

Sometime later, she heard footsteps approaching but didn't look up, not interested in the agent-of-the-hour they had been sending in to interrogate her. She knew she'd technically screwed up by allowing the package to get into Rufus and co.'s hands but she was banking her survival on her ability to pilot the Mothership. Anthony was dead and, last she'd heard, Rittenhouse hadn't had a chance to train anyone else. Rufus and his girlfriend were the only other viable options, if Rittenhouse left her here.

The door to the room opened and the footsteps entered.

She yawned, faking disinterest, cracking her jaw loudly in the process. She looked over at the newcomer then immediately straightened up when she recognized the elderly man standing in her cell.

"This was not the outcome we'd hoped for," the man began, looking disapprovingly at her.

"I know sir, and I'm sorry. But I had time with the package and I can tell you what was in it—"

The man held up a hand, silencing her plea. "For better or worse, you are irreplaceable," he said with a slight scowl. "And so you've been freed." He tossed her a ring of keys and she quickly opened the handcuffs connecting her to the table then the shackles securing her to the floor.

"Thank you sir."

"Don't thank me yet," the man said, motioning for them to start walking. "You have exactly one more chance to retrieve that package," he said as they entered the hallway. "Mess up and we don't care how capable of an agent you had been for us."

"I understand, sir," Emma said, sidestepping the body of a Homeland agent.

"And you will be training an understudy how to fly the Mothership," the man continued.

"Of course, sir."

They walked through the rest of the compound in silence, the elderly man only speaking again once they arrived at two identical, nondescript cars in a makeshift parking lot. Henry and Brock were standing in front of one, looking no worse for the wear than they'd been one day ago.

"Please do not make me regret this, Emma," the man said, climbing into the passenger's seat of one.

"No sir," she said, as the car pulled away, leaving a cloud of dirt in its wake. "I guarantee it."

And that's the end of A Matter of Time! Special thanks to you-cant-just-import-answer on Tumblr who storyboarded the whole idea with me and to MoparGirl1 on Fanfiction who cheerread a rough draft when I was struggling to get past the airplane scene.

I hope you enjoyed and sincerely can't wait until this show comes back in summer 2018!

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you thought!

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