So here it is—finally—my sequel to Somebody I Used to Know. You don't have to have read the first one to understand this one—but I hope you do! Just know that Jessica is unexpectedly back in the land of the living because of something that was changed by Emma in 1814….nobody on Time Team knows what changed, and to be honest, it doesn't really matter. Wyatt just found out about the change, after running into Jess while at a bar with the gang on his birthday. The interesting part? In this timeline, Jessica and Wyatt have been divorced for three years, and have had little to no contact during this time. Jessica has a new relationship that is quite serious, and Wyatt and Lucy? As far as Jiya and the rest of MI are concerned, Wyatt and Lucy's relationship is pretty much exactly what we know it to be in "our" timeline, at the end of season 1/beginning of season 2. Possibilities, with a side of overt flirting….and there is an office pool!

This story is pretty plot-thin compared to my other WIP. Wyatt POV again, so lots of rambling Wyatt thoughts. It's structured as a series of conversations….even when it's just Wyatt talking to himself—Conversations about fate and time and love and forgiveness….basically it's about friends desperately trying to help each other stay sane in crazy circumstances.

Rated "T" because of characters imbibing in alcohol and occasionally having potty-mouths….and if NBC is going to insist on putting it in the 10pm time-slot, it somehow seems appropriate.

I'm also not a big fan of the title….but couldn't come up with anything better.

As always, I own none of it….none at all! Hope you enjoy.

Prologue

Emma had jumped three times that next week, keeping him busy….offering some distraction. Thank goodness….because in-between those jumps….he was a mess.

Jess was alive….she was alive.

And they were divorced.

And what the hell was he supposed to do with any of that information? Yes, the turn of timeline events had….sent him for a bit of a loop. Any time it entered his mind….which was pretty much any time he wasn't dodging bullets from Emma's goons….he would become overwhelmed by a sea of confusion and emotion. And he had no idea how to even begin to process any of it.

His team mates—his friends—they were trying to help….even though they thought he didn't know what they were doing…. But he wasn't oblivious. He recognized that Rufus and Lucy seemed to be taking him in shifts—bringing him dinner, taking him out for drinks, coming up with inane reasons why they wanted his company on whatever errand they had to run.

He was thankful for their friendship….but, at the same time, they were driving him a little bit nutty. He was becoming frustrated, because he wasn't able to find any time to actually process his feelings—except at night. Which meant he wasn't sleeping. And then, damn, wouldn't Emma jump again? And, holy heck, how was anyone supposed to get their head straight this way? Would his head ever be straight again? It wasn't exactly straight before.

And so that was how, within the bounds of his 'new normal' that he'd found himself, at three in the morning, rifling through papers in his desk, trying to find hints to the life this timeline's version of him had lived. Car loans, television warrantees, a "thank you" card from Lucy, of all people, and so vaguely worded that he had no idea what it was about. And why had he saved it, shoved in with an old utility bill, anyway? Finally, he found it, paperwork that was from the divorce. Frustratingly, it revealed no helpful details at all, beyond the actual date—three years previously, just like Jess had said. And that was two years later than his most recent memories of her, in his timeline. In some crazed corner of his brain he realized he'd been expecting some kind of cosmic symmetry between their fates in the two timelines….in dates, in places, in….something. Yet, there was nothing. Not that there was any reason for there to be….unless you were really a big believer in fate or kismet or something being written in the stars…. Which he wasn't. So why did that lack of equivalence surprise him?

Two-and-a-half hours later, with absolutely no sleep under his belt, he was driving to work. Not that he needed to be there that early….but Mason had a pretty good gym….and a really comfy couch at the back of the wardrobe dock that he'd managed to fall asleep on a couple of times since….well, since he ran into her.

His mind drifted back to that thought later, as he stood staring at his locker. That couch was actually calling to him, and he figured that was a good sign. Perhaps he would forgo the workout? Just try and get some sleep? He figured that sleep would be better for him than exercise right now, anyway. Okay, so change of plans. He closed the locker, and instead of walking toward the gym area, he turned and started down the south stairwell.

There were only a few techs around, night staff—no one he knew well, so he managed to get to the south wing of the building and enter the wardrobe dock without anyone trying to strike up a conversation and preventing him from getting to that couch. Just as well. He suspected he wouldn't be very good company right now. Lately he'd taken to long and strange late-night texting stints with Lucy….when they both should have been sleeping. Usually at some point in those exchanges, Lucy would find some way to tell him that he was a grumpy bear when he was over-tired. He couldn't even really remember how the texting routine had started, but Lucy claimed that their texted banter helped her sleep. He supposed that it helped him relax too….for a bit, until he hung up his phone, and everything else would come rushing back. But it was yet another part of their relationship that he felt unable to examine...right now, at least.

Finally, he reached his goal—Mason's magic couch. He pulled his shoes off and stretched out on the couch, pulling the thin throw blanket over him, closing his eyes, and willing himself to sleep.

Except his brain wasn't following orders….and sleep wasn't coming. Instead he kept replaying that moment in that damn bar, on his birthday, when he saw her….and everything changed. Jessica….she wasn't all that different than he remembered, not really….and she seemed happy to see him. What had happened between them….the them in this timeline? He suspected it was his fault….it must have been. But, would he have ever wanted a divorce? Did he drive her to it? How had he made her so miserable? He wanted to give this timeline him a piece of his mind….maybe a punch in the nose. How had he missed what was right in front of him?

This wasn't making falling asleep any easier.

He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on the rack of 1930s dresses in front of him….he thought he spied the pink one Lucy had worn on the Arkansas mission…. He sighed, closing his eyes again, and covering his face with his arm for good measure.

That wasn't helping, either.

What are you doing, Logan?

He groaned, rolling over on the couch so that his back was to the offending clothing. What a good question that was. What was he doing? It wasn't that long ago that he and Lucy had had….the conversation….or whatever you could call it, where he'd managed to be so confounding she probably didn't even know what he was talking about. Possibilities? What the hell did that even mean?

A voice in a dark corner of his brain whispered back—it means everything. And he knew that, for him….it did. He was ready to move on….to keep living….or to start living again, more appropriately….and he wanted to do that with Lucy. And he knew….well, at least, he was pretty sure, that she maybe wanted that too….that she was at least interested in exploring said possibilities.

But then that business with her mother, and Emma….and he knew she needed a friend, more than a complication….so he had backed off. And yet, all the while, she kept seeming to move toward him. He wasn't blind to the things she said with just her eyes….he wasn't unfeeling to the touches, to the hugs…. And so he would tentatively start to move toward her again….usually just in time for her to step back after a particularly rough mission….and the dance they were doing was maddening. And he had just started coming to terms with the fact that they needed to change the steps of that dance….and they needed to do it soon. And maybe, that night….on his birthday, he had thought that, just maybe she was on the same page as him. There had been the touches….the standing closer than she needed to….and the fact that she hadn't clocked him, when he'd kissed her on the cheek. So he'd thought maybe….just maybe….things might go somewhere closer to those possibilities….finally….that night.

Until Jess had called his name. And then everything changed. Because she was alive. His wife was alive….

And there was no way he was getting any sleep right now.

His phone chimed. Which meant Emma hadn't jumped….they called when Emma jumped. But he still needed to check the message, it could be important. Blearily his eyes searched the screen. It was from Agent Christopher. Emma had most definitely not jumped….but Christopher was calling the team in, anyway. Wanted to go over the information from the previous mission….cross-reference it with known historical fact….and try to get ahead of….everything.

Well….at least he was already in the right place. Wyatt glanced at his watch. They thought he was at home….which meant he could probably try for another half-hour of sleep before reporting in….maybe even an hour, if he blamed it on heavy traffic….

His phone chimed again. Lucy. Saying she was stopping for coffee on the way in, and did he want anything? He texted her back—'The biggest coffee you can find please, ma'am.'

She texted him back a winking emoji.

He stretched, blinking his eyes, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. Okay….so there was no way this sleep thing was happening. He pulled himself upright, rubbing his hand across his face. Fine….let them just think that he had broken a land speed record to get to MI so quickly. He hauled himself to his feet, and began walking down the wardrobe dock aisle….preparing for whatever lay ahead.

Not surprisingly, he was the first of the team to get to the conference room. He figured he'd been sitting there alone….up to his eyeballs in his thoughts again, for about twenty minutes before the door swung open admitting Jiya. Now this was a first—Jiya always seemed to be the first team member to arrive….it was like she lived there, or something.

She nodded at him, "You got here fast….have you seen Rufus?"

He couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face. "Nope….did you misplace your boyfriend?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "No….he was visiting with his Mom and Kevin last night—"

The door swung open at that instant, admitting her missing boyfriend. He grinned at Jiya as he entered, bending down to kiss her on the cheek, then dropping into the chair beside her, and swinging it around to face Wyatt.

"You're here early."

"Seriously guys….it's not like I'm always late to work."

"No," agreed Rufus.

"But you're usually just a right-on-time kind of guy." Supplied Jiya.

"Why does Agent Christopher want us here so early anyway," grumbled Rufus, "I don't do well with history research before my first coffee."

"Is Lucy bringing you one?" Wyatt asked.

"Lucy? Why?"

"Cause….she was doing a coffee run?"

Rufus shook his head. "I didn't know that….why didn't I know that?"

Jiya sighed, "Because Lucy doesn't have a thing for you."

"A thing?" sputtered Wyatt.

"Jiya!" groaned Rufus. "Forgive my girlfriend….it's way too early in the morning to discuss—"

"Discuss what?"

The trio turned to see that Lucy had manoeuver the door open with her elbow, while balancing her purse, laptop bag, and two coffees….including one very large one….in her arms.

"Nothing," said Jiya quickly. "Just wondering what Emma is up to next."

Lucy raised an eyebrow at her. "Uh huh." She settled the coffees on the table top, and slid into the chair beside Wyatt. "I got you the largest one I could find, just like you ordered…." She trailed off as she turned to face him properly for the first time since entering the room. "Wyatt! You haven't slept!"

"What?" he asked, "I've slept!"

"Don't lie to me. I can tell you haven't….you have to sleep."

Bossy know-it-all…. "S'not a lie….I've slept before….maybe just not last night."

"Last night, or the night before….or the night before that."

"Wait," began Rufus, "How do you know so much about Wyatt's sleeping habits?"

She rolled her eyes at him, and then turned her exacting gaze back on Wyatt. "You look terrible."

"Thanks, for that." He flashed a smirk her way.

"Wyatt, it's not funny. You need to get some sleep."

He closed his eyes and counted to five….he really didn't need this this morning. He opened his eyes, seeking out hers, and said in a quieter voice, "I know….I'm trying."

He watched as her eyes softened. "I know….I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Okay," said Rufus, "Lucy's sorry, Wyatt's trying….so we're all good here, right? Can we just get back to the business of history-saving, now?"

Jiya pulled out her laptop, and started typing away, seeming as though she wanted to look anywhere but at where Wyatt and Lucy sat across the table. After a moment, Rufus joined suit.

Lucy stretched the giant coffee toward him, like a peace offering. He accepted it, smiling slightly as he took his first sip. "Thank you."

She nodded. "You're welcome." She grabbed her own laptop, and got to work.

Wyatt was about to do the same, when he felt her staring at him, over top of her screen.

"What?"

She sighed. "It's just that….no, it's nothing...never mind."

It was his turn to sigh. "Well it's definitely something….so you might as well tell me."

He noted that Jiya's typing had stilled, and she was staring expectantly at them from behind her screen.

Lucy rubbed her neck. "It's just that….it's been a week since….and I don't know….if you're…." she trailed off.

Wyatt felt a slight bout of irritation creep into him at her words. Was she really going to lecture him this morning? When they'd already established how little sleep he was working on? "Lucy….I don't want to talk about this, not right now."

She pushed her laptop away. "Well, maybe you should. If you would talk about it….well then maybe you would be able to get some—"

"—Please don't say the word sleep again." He shoved his laptop—that he hadn't even managed to open yet—away from him, until it struck Lucy's laptop with a metallic clank.

He saw the sudden surprise in her eyes, and was immediately sorry for his tone. He shook his head, meeting her eyes again. "I….I'm sorry Lucy…..I didn't mean to…I'm just not having a good morning."

She nodded slowly. "I shouldn't have nagged at you…..I just…."

"It's okay," he began, suddenly becoming very aware of the two sets of eyes peering at him from over their laptop screens. "What?" he asked.

"Nothin'" said Jiya, eyes quickly back on her screen.

"No," Rufus began, "It's not nothing. Lucy's right—you need to work through….this. It's going to make you sick if you don't. Or, at the very least, it's going to make you less safe."

He felt the heat rising in his face as his anger began climbing, "Less safe? What are you talking about?"

Jiya suddenly jumped to her feet. "You know what? I think I'll go find Agent Christopher….let her know we're all here."

Wyatt watched as she nearly sprinted out the door, letting it swing shut behind her.

He raised his eyebrow at Rufus, who shrugged.

"Okay," Wyatt began, pulling his laptop back toward him "So what are we researching—"

Rufus closed his laptop again. "No, you know what….we should talk about this, before Agent Christopher gets here. I mean—look at yourself this morning, do you really think you're working on all cylinders right now? And you haven't been, for days. You can't keep this up. "

Wyatt pinched his nose, closing his eyes. "Look, I know you're just trying to help me….and I'm thankful, I am…."

"Not just help you, buddy. We're a team, remember? Only as good as our weakest link. Not that you're a weak link….but seriously, you need to start dealing with this, so you can sleep….so you can be safe and ready for the mission—"

"What mission?" Wyatt cut in, "The Time Team field trip to the local library? Emma hasn't jumped today."

"But she will, sometime."

"And I'll be ready, then."

Rufus sighed, lowering his voice. "I don't doubt you mean to be…..but this whole thing…. I mean, I seriously can't imagine what you're going through….but to start with….well...aren't you happy about it?"

"Happy?" He pushed his chair back from the table and rose, beginning to pace along the outer window of the room, glancing down at the Lifeboat below him. "Of course I'm happy." He turned back to the table, recognizing that both Rufus and Lucy were staring at him. "She—she's alive. She's living her life….it's….unbelievable."

Lucy pushed her own chair back, stood, and moved to stand beside him. He stopped his pacing for a moment, and she put her hand on his arm. "But something is obviously making you feel….conflicted."

He jerked away from her touch, immediately feeling terrible for the flash of pain he saw in her eyes as he broke contact.

"Buddy," Rufus said, "You are wound so frickin' tight….this is what the whole problem is."

He laughed, mirthlessly. "And do you have a solution to that? Because, believe me….I am all ears!"

Rufus shook his head. "But isn't this supposed to be your whole thing, talk through your feelings to get over the hump….you know….so there's no cracking up?"

"What? How do you….?" He glanced toward Lucy.

"I told him about our talk in Germany—because it really helped me….I was thankful….that was it."

He turned back to Rufus. "So now you wanna use it against me?"

Rufus stood, running his hand across the back of his head. "You can be impossible—you know that? I'm not using it against you….I'm trying to help! Take your own advice—talk about how you're feeling."

"I'm not good at this, okay? I don't even know how I'm feeling about anything right now….makes it pretty hard to talk about it!"

Rufus shook his head, "But surely you can….."

"Don't. Not now. It's not like…." He pressed his palms to his face for a moment. He couldn't explain it to them….couldn't put it into words.

He glanced up at Lucy, who was looking at him with nothing but caring….nothing but support….and maybe knowing that he could try to figure this out.

"Look, for five years—five years!—all I've known is the sadness and the guilt….and I even tried to fix it…."

"We know that," Rufus said, "But now things are fixed…."

He shook his head, "But it's not just that….I was ready to start letting it….the guilt….go. Ready to start moving forward, instead of standing still….and then this happens and it just yanks me back to where I was…."

His anger flared again, as he saw Rufus role his eyes.

"You're not right back where you were….and the thing is, I think you know that. So what's going on?" he paused for a beat, then continued. "Lucy's right, it's like you're riddled with conflict, with doubt….but where is the doubt in this situation? How is anything about this a conflict? Explain it to me….to us."

He couldn't completely understand why every word Rufus said this morning was riling him….but that didn't change the fact that it was true. And he didn't want to argue. Except, without any sleep….he knew he was close to an edge. But he was not going to lose his temper….not here, not in front of Lucy. But if he was going to stay in control this morning, he really needed Rufus to Stop. Talking. Now.

He took in a breath, and decided to plunge ahead. "Just….stop, okay? This isn't easy for me. I know this seems clear to you guys….but it's not for me….and I just need….I don't know….but I know this isn't helping."

"We get it," said Rufus.

"No….you don't." he practically snarled at his friend, trying to keep the irrational anger and guilt at bay.

"Wyatt," Lucy began, "We understand it's not easy, and we're not trying to say that it should be….we're just worried….

He spun away from Rufus, back to face her, the heat rising quick and sharp within him. "Why would you be worried?"

"W-What?"

"Because this all just works out great for you, doesn't it?"

Well….that had certainly shut them up.

As his words seemed to continue ringing in the air, several thoughts pushed through Wyatt's sleep deprived brain all at once: His anger was suddenly gone….and a wave of shame and guilt and remorse was rushing in to fill the void; Rufus was staring at him, his mouth wide open in surprise; Agent Christopher and Jiya—ah crap, when had they gotten here?—were standing just at the door, both with a perplexed expression on their faces; and Lucy…..he couldn't even bare to look back in her direction.

What was wrong with him? He shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets, and glued his gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

He didn't get an immediate response. "Look, I'm just gonna…." He scooped up the laptop, moving toward the door, all the while doing his darnedest not to look at Lucy, "….I'm just gonna go sort through the latest changes to...to the algorithm using the data in the Lifeboat…."

He went out into the hallway, letting the door swing shut behind him. He paused for a moment, swiping his hand across his face, willing his hand to stop shaking, before realizing that—given the conference room was a ridiculous glass fish bowl—everyone was no doubt still staring at him. So, he forced himself to still, dropped his hand to his side, and squared his shoulders. He then kept walking, until he was able to start down the stairs. He stopped, when he knew he was beyond the sight lines of the curious group of onlookers, and leaned on the railing for support.

What had he just said to her?

He was officially an ass.

And now he had to find a way to process whatever was going on in his head with regard to Jess….and he had to apologise to Lucy….and find some way to make it up to her. He had to fix this….but he didn't even know where to start.

How do I even begin to work through what this all means?