So we start with season 2 being the same until the final minutes of episode 3 . . . No Jessica. Let's break Wyatt's heart instead. Not that I don't think he's suffering too, but he is kind of annoying me with his behavior thus far in his handling of the Jess-Lucy dynamic so I am messing with him a little here. Maybe more than a little. So obviously, things progress a little differently – I'm not going to retell the missions from 2x4 and 2x5. We'll pick up when the team returns from bringing JFK back. I have changed a few things from before then (other than the Lucy-Wyatt dynamic which would obviously be different), but most of those will be revealed as the story unfolds. One that is essential to understand right away though is that in this version they added the extra seat before this return mission and Agent Christopher insisted on going with them to 1934 to provide extra back-up.

Wyatt launched himself out of his seat and depressed the button for the door before any of the other occupants of the lifeboat had even registered the fact that they had landed back in the present. Not even waiting for the ladder to be put in to place, he jumped to the floor.

"Easy, Wyatt." Agent Christopher admonished from the doorway of the lifeboat. "I am sure Lucy is fine. Jiya will have taken good care of her. All she needed was rest and anti-biotics."

Jiya appeared then with the ladder for those not too impatient to wait. As the others filed down Wyatt headed toward the room he had left Lucy in only hours before, pale faced and in pain from a relapse of her fever and a tearing of her stitches thanks to their adventures with Emma on the hunt for JFK.

'How's Lucy? Has her fever broken?" he asked even as he was almost out of the room.

"Who's Lucy?"

Jiya's question bounced off the walls of the cavernous space as its meaning struggled to find purchase with the former occupants of the lifeboat. Wyatt stood frozen at the edge of the room, ready to go see her, to hold her and reassure himself of her health and vitality. This question put so much more than those things in jeopardy. He turned slowly and saw the rest of the team regarding Jiya with a mixture of shock, concern and disbelief. Finally, Agent Christopher spoke.

"Jiya, is there a historian on our team?"

"Before . . . but he was . . killed. You don't remember Martin?" Jiya asked. When they all continued to look at her with blank, worried expressions she continued. "After Martin died we decided to do things differently. We have a number of consultants who brief the team before missions, but they aren't read in to the whole time travel thing – they just think they are working on a government historical preservation project. Do you want their names?"

Even as she said this Jiya was tapping away on her tablet.

"So stuff changed huh? This was different in the timeline before you left?" She asked continuing to look at whatever her screen was telling her. "There was someone else here with us in the bunker? Someone who went on missions?"

Everyone looked to Wyatt, expecting him to answer. He hadn't moved from his spot by the door. His head was down so no one could read his expression, but his relationship with Lucy was no secret so while they all loved her in their own way everyone expected him to take the lead in unraveling this unexpected, unwanted and unbelievable predicament. But he remained silent, still.

"Yes." Flynn said at last. "Lucy Preston."

"Lucy Preston?" Jiya asked looking up from her tablet. Then a moment later. "Yes, she is one of our consultants. The one we use most often if these numbers are right."

There was a collective sigh of relief. She existed. She was alive. At this Wyatt moved toward the group.

"But why wouldn't she have been brought in? What changed?" Rufus asked.

"Since we know Lucy had been placed on the team because of her Rittenhouse connection maybe her family isn't Rittenhouse in this timeline?" Wyatt posed.

"One of our consultant's family is Rittenhouse?" Jiya asked with incredulity. "What if she's a spy for them?"

"She's not." Wyatt said with certainty. "I don't care what else has changed in this timeline Lucy would never."

"Why don't we move this conversation somewhere a little more . . ." Agent Christopher started to suggest. Perhaps she wanted to say comfortable but there was really no place in the bunker that deserved that description. Regardless, Wyatt was in no mood for a change of venue.

"No, we need to figure this out now." he bit out. Rufus laid a hand on his shoulder whether to restrain or comfort Wyatt wasn't sure. Maybe Rufus wasn't sure either.

"Is Carol Preston part of Rittenhouse?" Wyatt asked. "Benjamin Cahill?"

"Do you mean Carol and Benjamin Cahill – THE Cahills? They are Rittenhouse royalty. They are this person's, Lucy's, parents and you are saying you think she might not be Rittenhosue?" Jiya scoffed.

"They were her parents in our timeline too." Wyatt retorted. "Although apparently with a name change."

"How could we even know about them without Lucy?" was among the many questions the team had for Jiya.

In the end Agent Christopher did persuade them, really only Wyatt resisted any delay in gaining information that would lead to finding Lucy, to sit at the kitchen table. Connor joined them as soon as they sat down and was brought up to speed on the current situation.

Connor and Jiya knew nothing else about Lucy. Carol and Benjamin were a Rittenhouse leaders and had brought back Nicholas Keynes back from the early nineteenth century just like before. He was now, they all assumed, calling the shots. They had not been able to capture the hundreds of Rittenhouse agents and cripple their organization as in the other timeline because there was no Lucy to come up with the plan and convince her grandfather to participate. Instead Emma had double-crossed Flynn and taken the mothership after he blew up the Rittenhouse meeting in 1954. Flynn had then thrown himself on the mercy of Wyatt's team, whom he helped save from Emma and hers. Shortly thereafter Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries in an attempt to destroy the Lifeboat. And on and on with the differences, the similarities but Wyatt could only focus for so long. Agent Christopher was more interested in finding out the state of Rittenhouse than finding Lucy and while he could hardly blame her he had his own priorities. He stayed through the briefing only because he felt like any information would be helpful at this point. In addition, he had taken Rufus' tablet and while he half-listened to the conversation he googled Lucy.

He learned that she was a history professor at Stanford, had won a ton of awards whose names meant nothing to him, but still he was impressed and proud. She had still authored the book on Booth, but there was a new one on the suffragette movement. He hesitated to look at her social media. Knowing it would provide the most personal information, he was nevertheless afraid of what he would find. She was still everything to him, but to her he had never existed – he wasn't sure he could view that live and in color. Her life without him.

"She's at our bar."

"What?" Wyatt asked, not knowing who Rufus was talking about as he waved his phone at him.

"Lucy, she's at the bar we used to go to sometimes before we were quarantined in this charming facility." Rufus explained.

"How do you know?" The ever-practical Agent Christopher asked.

"Instagram."

"The place on Market?" Wyatt clarified already rising from his chair.

Rufus nodded, but before Wyatt could make good his escape Agent Christopher blocked his path.

"Wyatt, what do you think you're doing? What would you even say to her?"

Not interested in such concrete planning Wyatt brushed past the older woman.

"She hasn't experienced any of this. She doesn't know who you are." She continued. "She's not your Lucy."

Each word was like an armor piercing round, but he refused to let the pain, the truth stop him. He had to get to her, but Christopher was in front of him again.

"Don't try and stop me." He growled. "I have given you everything you asked. I have been a good soldier and I will come back, but you cannot ask me to stay away from her right now. Knowing she is out there, knowing . . . I can't. I won't. I have lost her before, but not like this. I don't know if I can handle this. I need to . . . I need to find out. And I can't do that here. I can't sit here . . . wondering."

Agent Christopher regarded him in silence for a moment.

"Be careful. Rittenhouse is still out there and possibly more powerful than in our timeline. Whatever happens, come back to us." She said at last. "We are the only ones who know, who can understand even a little." Her voice was gentle, but not, he noted, hopeful.

Twenty minutes later Wyatt exited his Uber two blocks from the bar. He made his way there, constantly checking behind him. Once inside he scanned the room. All thoughts of Rittenhouse and time travel left his mind. There she was. Sitting alone at the bar. She looked stunning. No remnants of a seventeenth century infection or of exhaustion from having run around town chased by a persistent would-be killer. Perhaps this life was better for her. He brushed that treasonous thought aside.

He watched her sip her beer. It was the same brand she always drank with him and Rufus. The same brand he begged Agent Christopher to get for the bunker. Her clothes he didn't recognize but the style was distinctly Lucy. He just have stood there watching for a half an hour as his thoughts closed in on themselves. Here she was – successful, safe from the crazy mixed up world he inhabited. Could this be a better way for Lucy? Then a good-looking guy came up to her and touched her arm. Wyatt's heart broke. His head dropped and he took a breath to steady himself. He couldn't take all of this from her. Not if she was happy. She deserved a life where she had all of things that everyone dreams of – a good career, someone to love and you know, nobody trying to kill you all the time.

When he looked up again, to get one last look before he left her, maybe for good, he saw she was alone again. He was so surprised he involuntarily stepped closer. Close enough to hear the bartender as he handed her another beer.

"Another one bites the dust." He laughed. "I think that makes 4 tonight alone, Luce. What was wrong with this one?"

"Nothing is wrong with any of them, Jim" she said. Wyatt wished he could see her face. Her voice sounded . . . hollow. "It's me, it's always me."

Without meaning to, without at all planning to, Wyatt found himself standing next to the empty seat beside Lucy. Standing so close to her he came back to his senses. Only because it took all of his will power not to reach out and touch the skin of her neck. It was one of his favorite spots. He knew how soft it was, knew how she would lean in to him when he kissed her there.

"Can I help you?" It wasn't her voice that broke through his thoughts, it was the bartender's. Jim. He was looking at Wyatt looking at Lucy likely expecting him to be another poor soul gently spurned by her, at least he hoped she was gentle.

Turning to Lucy he saw that she was watching him with wary curiosity. Her eyes, usually so expressive, showed only this mild interest. But of course what else could a stranger inspire? His heart lurched. He was a stranger to her. That he could not let stand.

"Is this seat taken," he asked with his best smile, his most charming voice and then hoping against hope that all Lucys had something in common added, "ma'am?"