EPILOGUE PART 5

Wyatt was having a hell of a time concentrating on the mission.

Flynn may have forced down Lindbergh's plane, kidnapped Lindbergh, and Ernest Hemingway himself, might now be acting as their personal tour guide around Paris, but none of that could hold a candle to Lucy prancing around France in a fringed flapper dress.

Hell, he had already been exercising a hell of a lot of self-control over the past several days.

After seeing Lucy with that fake engagement ring, it took everything he had not to just propose to her right then and there. But no…shehad said she wanted it to be perfect, and so he was bound and determined to give her "perfect" - which meant he was going to have catch her completely off-guard…which he realized was a hell of a lot harder now that she was expecting it at any moment.

So, he did what any good potential fiancé would do. He took a step back…threw himself into his post-surgery exercises, asked for extra work…anything to keep himself from completely blowing his chance to make this proposal one that Lucy would always remember. So, Wyatt worked to build up some space between them; he went to bed before she did, he was up before she woke and aside from a small kiss on the cheek here and there, he had scaled back his attentions to her considerably so that he would not be tempted to jump the gun.

As cliché as it was, Wyatt was dead set, especially after catching her wearing that phony ring at Christmas, on proposing on New Year's Eve. His plans for their date may have been set for months, but true to his word, he was holding back on everything in the marriage department until Lucy had given him a sign that she was ready…and now he had it. Since he already had a romantic venue all set up and an elaborate plan already in place, it would be the most natural thing in the world to get down on one knee in the midst of fireworks and champagne and ask her to marry him. He had been silently congratulating himself on how the timing for everything had worked out to his advantage…and then Garcia Flynn had to come along and blow it all to hell.

.

Wyatt had done his best to hide his disappointment when it was clear that all of his planning had essentially been a waste of time. He had to hold out that semblance of hope that he could salvage something from this night…if only just to be engaged to Lucy. He had waited for so damn long, had wanted nothing more than to have her back as his wife…and but damn it all if Garcia Flynn didn't seem to have it out for him and his chance for happiness. Still, it was Paris. How could he ever forget the disappointment on Lucy's face all those months ago when she was told she would not be going to save the Treaty of Versailles? That mission was the start of a change in their relationship, it was the mission that preceded the one that brought them together…

It was almost like fate.

Except Wyatt was not supposed to believe in that sort of thing. Now, however, he was thinking he had been a bit short-sighted about that…and he had never been happier to be wrong.

Of course, technically he wasn't supposed to be here…but Wyatt really didn't give a damn. Especially now that Lucy was laughing and dancing to the music of old jazz in a 1920s Paris speakeasy.

He wouldn't have missed this for the world.

Memorable setting? Check.

Romantic scenery? Check.

Celebratory atmosphere? Check.

All he needed was the chance to catch her off guard and pop the question and that, coupled with Lucy's maddening attire was enough to keep him plenty distracted.

Rufus, it seemed, was doing no better. It had been clear back at Mason that Rufus was a fan of Josephine Baker, despite his lame attempts at denying it. If he was a stammering fool back in the present over the soulful songstress, it was nothing to how he was now. Rufus was practically drooling into his club soda watching her perform onstage at the swanky little gin joint Ernest Hemingway had led them too.

Nudging him in the arm, Wyatt called him on it, "You might want to tone down that creep vibe you got going on there, Rufus." he said with a chuckle, "You're looking at her like you know what she looks like without her clothes on."

Rufus gave Wyatt a sidelong glance, "I kinda do." he admitted sheepishly. "I should have known about her being a big deal in Paris…I mean, she lived here…died here. That woman," he said as he pointed to her onstage, "was my first love."

"I had no idea you were such a fan of old jazz, Rufus." Lucy observed with a smirk.

"I wasn't…I was a fan of her album covers." he admitted unabashedly.

Lucy and Wyatt exchanged amused looks. "Yes," Lucy said with a wide grin, "Josephine Baker is known for her…well, let's just say she caused an international stir when she performed in nothing but a girdle covered in artificial bananas."

Wyatt choked on his drink, "What?"

"That was some vintage porn, my friend." Rufus sighed in remembrance. "That particular album cover got me through some lonely nights."

"I'm sure it did." Lucy said with a smirk towards Wyatt. "But you have Jiya now." she reminded him.

"And I'm pretty damn sure she wouldn't like to know you were ogling some chick who is old enough to be your grandmother." Wyatt added.

"Oh, you're both ones to talk. Kate Drummond?" Rufus asked Wyatt pointedly. "Yeah, pretty sure I remember you going on about wanting to buy her a drink or two back there on that first mission."

Wyatt's mouth hung open as he looked towards Lucy who had pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows in apparent agreement. "No…that was…that was different." Wyatt stammered. "I was just trying to get information."

"Whatever Wyatt, you hovered around her like she was honey to your bee." Rufus shot back as he mimicked with a roll of his eyes, "Hey Lucy and Rufus why don't you two figure out a way to land the damn Hindenburg, while Kate and I take care of a few things in the kitchen."

"There was a bomb in there, Rufus!" Wyatt spat out defensively, "Which I 'm pretty sure neither one of you knew how to diffuse."

"Pretty sure Kate didn't either" Rufus mumbled under his breath much to Wyatt's chagrin. He grumbled to himself, turning away from them as he folded his arms across the bar top.

Lucy however, found the whole situation highly amusing. Nudging Wyatt in the arm, she playfully added, "You did kinda have a thing for her."

"Just like you had a thing for Robert Todd Lincoln." Rufus quipped glibly as he sipped on his club soda.

"Wha…?" Lucy gasped out as her eyes darted from Rufus to Wyatt who now, instead of sulking sullenly, had the hint of a smile on his face as he brought his own drink to his lips looking every bit like he not only agreed with Rufus' observation, but that it was high time Lucy got called out for her past liaisons with the President's son. "I did not…he…he asked me to the play!"

"You could have said no." Wyatt muttered with a shrug, still not turning from the bar.

"And why would I do that? We were there to stop Flynn from murdering Grant. Grant was at the play…so I went."

"And bought a new dress." Wyatt reminded her.

"I couldn't go to a play in what I was wearing…that's not how things were done then." Lucy uttered defensively, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"I wasn't talking about the play, actually." Rufus said with a smack of his lips. "I was talking about after the play with all that hand holding and Robert, business." Rufus gave his head a little shake and sighed, "Deny it all you want, Lucy but Juliet Shakesman was a player…old Robert Todd Lincoln didn't know what hit him when he met you."

"His father had just been murdered right in front of him…I was merely trying to…I hardly think that after one night…" she tried to explain, but Wyatt and Rufus's faces broke out into knowing grins and Lucy had just about had enough of it. "What?" she scoffed irritably.

"Oh, it was more than just one night." Rufus stated matter of factly, a bemused expression on his face.

"C'mon, Rufus." Wyatt chided as he turned around on his bar stool and gave Lucy a small smirk, "That's not really fair."

"What's not really fair?" Lucy demanded as she looked between Rufus and Wyatt once more.

"She can't technically be held accountable for…"

"I can't be held accountable for what?" Lucy demanded as she folded her arms in front of her and narrowed her eyes at the two of them. "Spill it."

Wyatt groaned as he tried to explain, "It's just that…in the other timeline you sort of…"

"Robert Todd Lincoln saw you in your underwear." Rufus finished for him without hesitation or further explanation.

"WHAT?!" Lucy exclaimed a little louder than she intended. Flinching as the sound of her own voice resonated over even the band playing onstage, Lucy dropped her voice into a whisper as she hissed, "What do you mean he saw me in my underwear?!"

Wyatt rolled his eyes at Rufus and gave him a disapproving glare, "It wasn't as bad as all that." Wyatt assured, "He didn't know who you were…you were pretty adamant that he not see your face."

"Oh." Lucy breathed out in relief, grateful that at least some semblance of propriety existed for Juliet Shakesman. Still, she couldn't imagine under what circumstances she would be found by Robert Todd Lincoln in less than somewhat formal attire. "How on Earth did he see me in my underwear?" Lucy asked, before adding nervously, "Do I even want to know?"

"Relax." Wyatt assured, "You weren't doing anything…unladylike…despite what Rufus may think."

Rufus cast Wyatt a doubtful look and muttered, "Yeah…sure, she just happened to lose her dress in the middle of the damn Draft Riots."

"What is he talking about, Wyatt?" Lucy demanded.

"Nothing happened, Rufus." Wyatt argued as he turned in his chair to face him. "We had just run all over Manhattan, dodging rioters in the rain and Lucy…got hot."

"I'm sure she did." Rufus quipped.

Lucy covered her face with her hands as she gritted out to Wyatt, "Are you telling me that you and I were..." she lowered her voice to an almost inaudible whisper, "messing around in the middle of the New York City Draft Riots?!"

"No." Wyatt maintained with a stern look to a disbelieving Rufus. "Lucy, it was completely innocent…" but at her glare he amended, "okay, I might have been a little distracted by you in your underwear, but nothing happened. In fact, you kind of threw up."

"Why did I…?" but at the flicker of sadness in Wyatt's eyes, Lucy understood, "Oh…right."

Wyatt, not wanting Lucy to dwell on something that brought them both pain, quickly pressed on, "It was raining and we had just been chased into a barn by a bunch of racist assholes, you weren't feeling well, so I left to get us a hotel room…and that's when Flynn's guy nabbed you."

"In my underwear?" Lucy asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh yes…in the rain no less." Rufus said with a nod, "But I did my best to keep you decent when I found you."

"You found me?" she asked Rufus with a smirk.

"Yes, I did. Though sometimes I wish I would have just minded my own damn business. I don't know what was worse, the buggy ride from hell, the near lynching, or the after-action reports."

Wyatt chuckled to himself but Lucy, completely oblivious to what he meant, shook her head in confusion, "And how does Robert Todd Lincoln factor into all of this?"

"He saved you both from a bunch of rioters" Wyatt explained, "they attacked you right outside the hotel… he just happened to be staying there too."

"Of course, he was." Lucy muttered as she threw up her hands in exasperation. "And you're sure he didn't see my face?"

"Pretty sure." Rufus quipped. "You gave me one hell of a lecture as to why that would be a bad thing."

Lucy smiled at herself, hearing that no matter the timeline she was still very much her. "So," she maintained to Rufus, "He didn'tsee me, then that doesn't count."

"I wasn't finished." he replied with raised eyebrows. "He may have unknowingly saved your half-naked ass in New York during the Draft Riots, but youwere all cozy to him before that, if I remember correctly…well, I guess technically it was after 1863…but still."

Lucy stared at Rufus in utter disbelief, "What are you talking about? I already told you, there was no cozying up to him going on. I was doing my job. His father had just been murdered. What kind of person would I be if I had just left him there, without so much as a word? I was his datefor heaven's sakes."

"No, Lucy" Wyatt explained, "He's not talking about 1865, he's talking about 1869 when you and Robert Todd Lincoln ditched Rufus and I to go on an up close personal tour of Promontory Point…which, I might add, nearly got you killed."

Lucy gaped at him, hardly daring to believe that she had run into Robert Todd Lincoln, not one, not twice…but three times in history. "What?!" You've got to be kidding…I mean, what are the odds of that happening?"

"As it turns out, pretty good." Rufus muttered as he smacked his lips together. "One might even call it fate."

Lucy flushed violently beside Wyatt, remembering what Robert Todd Lincoln had said to her by the train station in Washington, DC. Rufus noting this pointed at her with a grin, "See…you're blushing. I knew you had a crush on that guy."

"I did not!" Lucy spat out indignantly, "He just…he's…

"He's old enough to be your great great grandpa." Rufus finished for her. "Say what you want about me, but you, especially, have no room to talk, Lucy Preston. Hell, other you was married to Wyatt and you still ran off with Robert Todd Lincoln like he was the be all, end all."

"To be fair," Wyatt admitted defensively, "I had been an ass that day…If I were Lucy, I probably would've walked off with Robert Todd Lincoln too."

"Uh-huh" Rufus said unconvinced. "Ass or no, I'm pretty sure, Juliet Shakesman holds a small candle for Robert Todd…and I wouldn't be surprised if the feeling was a bit mutual." Rufus took another drink of his club soda, "Didn't he name a school after you?"

Lucy flushed again, "I don't know that it was his idea, Rufus."

"Oh, I'm sure it was." Rufus quipped. Don't sell yourself short, Juliet. "

Lucy rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her own club soda as Wyatt chuckled into his own drink at the bar. They listened to Josephine Baker as she finished the final chorus of Lonesome Lovesick Blues; Rufus nearly mesmerized by whom he called the "Creole Goddess" before Ernest Hemingway made his way over to them and interrupted his inner musings. "Isn't she remarkable?" he said with a grin as he joined Wyatt, Lucy and Rufus at the bar. "If there's anyone who can help you find the folks you're looking for, Josie can."

Rufus' breath hitched in his throat, "Jo…Josie? You mean, you actually know her?"

"Of course!" Hemingway said a good-natured laugh, "Come on, I'll introduce you."

Wyatt had to bite back a laugh as Rufus, bug-eyed and almost catatonic, shook hands with Josephine Baker. She was stunning, no doubt, but the way Rufus stared at her with his mouth hanging slightly agape was truly something to behold.

"Lindy and me" she simpered as she settled herself on the barstool Rufus had just vacated, "we're both from St. Louis, so if there's any chance he survived, I want to help."

"I'm…I'm from the Midwest too." stammered Rufus, with a dopey grin on his face, "Chicago." he clarified. "So we're…ya know…practically neighbors."

"Mmmm…Windy City." Josephine Baker remarked with a quirked brow, "Tell me, how hard do you blow?"

If that wasn't enough to raise Wyatt's eyebrows through the roof, Rufus' response certainly was, "Um…su…super hard."

Lucy smacked Wyatt on the arm as he let out another chuckle, while Ernest Hemingway and Josephine Baker collected the antiqued photos they had made up of Garcia Flynn and his henchmen. "We'll ask around and see if any of our friends have seen them." Josephine assured.

She gave Rufus a smile and wink before she left, which made Rufus grip onto the barstool, apparently to keep from falling onto the floor. "Do me a favor," he murmured to Lucy as he watched her walk away, "don't tell Jiya about any of this."

Teaming up with Ernest Hemingway was not supposed to be part of the plan. He may have been awarded a Medal in World War I, but Lucy had told Wyatt on the side that he had just been an ambulance driver for the Red Cross and that he had gotten injured handing out cigarettes and chocolate on the front lines…and that he might possibly have been drunk.

He wasn't sure if she was talking about then or now, because now, he was most definitely wasted.

Hemingway had insisted that he was perfect for the job of tracking down Flynn and his band of assholes to the shabby palais they were supposedly holed up in. They hadn't a clue where they were going, they were trying to make this mission as short as possible, and Hemingway was not going to take no for an answer. He "smelled adventure" he said, and so Wyatt begrudgingly agreed to allow him to tag along…if anything, to help them navigate the streets of 1927 Paris.

The problem was that now he had another person to ditch while trying to salvage his night with Lucy. He knew, of course, that they were on a mission, and as such, they should stick to being professional…and by all outward appearances he was. Inwardly, however, he was fighting a losing battle with his self-control…especially now that Lucy was walking a few feet in front of him, the tassels of her dress swinging provocatively as she sashayed down the narrow Parisian lane talking animatedly with Ernest Hemingway.

"Wyatt!"

Startling suddenly, Wyatt's eyes darted up from Lucy's swaying hips to the accusing glare of Rufus. Narrowing his eyes, Wyatt shrugged, "What?"

"Don't give me that, what." Rufus accused. "You're gonna get us killed if you don't put your eyeballs back in your head where they belong."

"C'mon, Rufus." Wyatt groaned awkwardly, "we haven't even seen Flynn…I was just keeping an eye on Lucy…"

"Tell me about it." Rufus scoffed. "I'd appreciate you keeping an eye on all of us…some of us still want to make it home before midnight….and preferably all in one piece."

Huffing out a breath and determined to rid himself of distraction, Wyatt quickened his step so that he was walking alongside Lucy, rather than behind her, casting Rufus a quick sheepish glance as he did so.

"…oh, yes it's all the rage these days." Hemingway was saying to Lucy. "In fact, makes you almost want to get one yourself just to be part of the in-crowd."

"Get what?" Wyatt asked as he walked in time with Lucy, scanning the streets for any sign of Flynn or his henchman.

"A divorce." Lucy explained with a small chuckle. "Paris was…I mean…is known as the Reno of Europe. It became fashionable a few years ago to come here for a quickie divorce rather than go through the courts back in the States."

"And here I thought Paris was the city of love…" Wyatt said sardonically

"Oh, it is." Hemingway assured, "For some, they may only see it as a divorce mill…but for others," Hemingway remarked as he paused dramatically, "Well, if you are ever lucky enough to have lived in Paris, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you. Paris is a moveable feast."

Lucy made a little gasp and excitedly blurted out, "A Moveable Feast! Yes, I loved that memoi...I mean…"she flushed as she corrected herself, "what a great book title that would make someday."

"You think so?" Hemingway asked with a shrug. "I don't know…I've got an idea for one now…I always like to draw from my own experiences...you know? Make things more real. What about this, an American ambulance driver is wounded at the Italian Front and falls in love with a beautiful nurse in charge of his care?"

Isn't that the exact synopsis of In Love and War?Rufus asked before Lucy elbowed him in the ribs.

"In Love and War?" what's that? Ernest Hemingway asked, "a book?"

"No...it's uh…um…" Rufus stammered before Wyatt interrupted, "No, you're thinking of A Farewell t….ow!" Wyatt exclaimed as Lucy kicked him in the shin.

"It's nothing," Lucy spat out quickly, "just a movie that didn't really make a" she hesitated trying to fight the right word, "splash…but I think you have something there. A tale of star-crossed lovers, during the backdrop of the Great War? Instant classic."

"You really think so?" Hemingway asked.

"Absolutely." Lucy answered as she shot a nervous, yet meaningful glance towards Wyatt and Rufus, "I think we should keep moving, don't you?"

As Hemingway took the lead, Rufus hissed at Lucy, "What the hell was that about?"

"In Love and War? Rufus, that movie is based on Ernest Hemingway's real life love affair with Agnes von Kuroswky." Lucy whispered harshly. "And you! He was talking about that book." she hissed at Wyatt in frustration.

"And?" Wyatt asked her blankly.

"And it hasn't been published yet. He won't publish until two years from now!" Lucy explained. "So you aren't supposed to know about it yet." Lucy huffed out an exasperated breath, "What is with you tonight? You seem awfully…"

"Distracted?" Rufus finished for her as he cast a meaningful glance at Wyatt, "Yeah, I've noticed that too."

Wyatt rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh, "Alright, alright…I'll try to be a bit more focused." As Lucy nodded and sashayed away again, however, Wyatt's attention once more drifted to her swaying skirts…that is until Rufus loudly cleared his throat beside him. "Sorry." Wyatt muttered as he frowned and sped up to rejoin Lucy.

He tried to keep his mind on the mission, kept reminding himself that the faster they found Flynn, the sooner he and Lucy could be alone, but it was Paris…and Lucy…well, she was radiant. She was beautiful, of course, in any timeline, but tonight…the dress she was wearing sparkled in the moonlight, surrounding her in an almost ethereal glow as she pranced along chatting merrily with Ernest Hemingway about his experiences in World War I and his friendships with F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein and Pablo Picasso. She was positively glowing…and Wyatt couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

They were just crossing the Seine via the Pont Neuf, when Wyatt, had had just about all he could take. There she was, amid a backdrop of the Eiffel tower glittering off to the one side of them and Notre Dame Cathedral on the other…a picture-perfect setting in one of the most romantic cities in the world. It couldn't be more perfect if he had tried.

So, while Rufus was listening intently to Hemingway's admiration for the engineering marvel that was the medieval bridge they were crossing, Wyatt tugged at Lucy's arm and pulled to the far side of the nearby equestrian statue of Henry IV.

"Wyatt, what are you doing?" Lucy asked in confusion as she tripped along behind him, only to have him wrap her up in his arms and silence any further questions with a passionate kiss. Lucy whimpered slightly as Wyatt's hand drifted from the small of her back slowly up her spine, sending shivers throughout her body. Braced between him and the black iron fence surrounding the statue, she was grateful to have something solid to cling to as she was sure she was in danger of melting completely away. Breathless and panting she pulled away from him slightly and gasped, "What was that for?"

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself…ma'am." Wyatt said with a soft smile as he kissed her hand. Disarmed by the sweetness of his gaze, Lucy didn't object when Wyatt tugged her even closer and ghosted kisses across her face, "I've been wanting to get you alone all night." he muttered.

"We're on a mission, Wyatt." Lucy reminded him.

"I know…I know that." he nodded as he swallowed hard, suddenly overcome with nerves, "Lucy, it's just that…this isn't how I had imagined…I mean…tonight was...and it's ya know…Paris…"

"Lucy!? Wyatt!?" Rufus' concerned voice called out from the street.

Wyatt heaved out a sigh of frustration, but as Lucy moved to rejoin Rufus, he pulled her back desperately, "No…just…just...let Rufus keep Hemingway company for a little while longer, okay?"

"Okay…" Lucy said in confusion, "But, he's going to start worrying if we don't let him know where we are."

"Let him worry." Wyatt said determinedly, his hands gripping Lucy's as if for dear life, "Lucy…I just…I have to…"

"Lucy! Wyatt!" came Rufus' worried voice again, "Where are you guys?"

Lucy cast an "I told you so" look to Wyatt and turned to leave once more, "C'mon Wyatt, Rufus is worried…"

"He'll be fine." Wyatt argued as he tugged her back, much to her exasperation.

"Do you want to save Lindbergh or not?" she asked as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Wyatt asked with a devilish smirk.

"We have to save him…it's our job." Lucy reminded him. "We have to make sure this transatlantic flight is recorded. Besides," she added with a sigh, "Rufus is…."

"Lucy! Wyatt!" Rufus' voice rang out in panic.

Lucy quirked her brow at a crest-fallen Wyatt. "Right here, Rufus!" she called as she straightened her dress and stepped around the statue, Wyatt begrudgingly falling behind in her wake.

As they emerged from their hiding place, Hemingway raised his eyebrows knowingly, offering Wyatt a congratulatory wink as Rufus rounded on him. "What the hell were you two doing over there?" Rufus asked suspiciously.

"Nothing." Wyatt mumbled somewhat truthfully.

"Uh-huh…well, you make sure it stays nothing." Rufus reprimanded as Lucy left the two of them to join Hemingway. "I know your New Year's Eve plans got blown to all kinds of hell." Rufus whispered harshly to Wyatt, "but that doesn't mean you get to ditch me so you can make out with Lucy in every dark corner you see." Wyatt stared back at Rufus stoically who added, "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Wyatt rolled his eyes and followed the rest of the group, kicking at the pavement in frustration as the night grew later. Something that earned him reproving glares from both Lucy and Rufus as they tried to keep up with a very talkative Ernest Hemingway.

"Josie's friend is a prostitute…a good one." Wyatt heard him remark to Lucy and Rufus as they made their way into the abandoned old wreck of what looked to have been once a grand house in the heart of Paris. "And if I know anything about prostitutes…and believe me, I do," he said with a meaningful wink to Wyatt and Rufus, "they never forget a face. If Josie's friend says they were here…they were here."

Wyatt rolled his eyes at Hemingway as he stepped inside the darkened and dusty palais. Broken glass littered the floor, cobwebs hung in every corner, the bannister of the grand staircase was split and broken in several places. "Cozy." Rufus coughed out as he blew years' worth of dust off of the ornate mantel piece.

Cozy was right.

Coming up with a plan, Wyatt cleared his throat, "Um…why don't we split up? Search the house? Rufus…you and Hemingway can take that side of the house, Lucy and I will take this side."

Rufus stared at him, "You sure you don't think it's smarter if we stay together?"

"No." Wyatt maintained meaningfully, "If you want to make it back in time for…" he hesitated looking at Ernest Hemingway, "you know…midnight…then splitting up will make this go a hell of a lot faster. And, "he added with a significant nod, "Hemingway will make sure you won't get your ass kicked."

"Ha!" came the barking laugh of Ernest Hemingway not catching Wyatt's full meaning, "True, I have wrestled a few heathens in my day!" he took a swig from the bottle of brandy he had in his coat pocket before continuing, "but I hate to break it to you, it's already past midnight."

"Not by my watch." Wyatt muttered to himself as he tugged Lucy by the hand towards the far side of the house.

Wyatt pushed his way through rooms that were littered with debris and peeling wall paper. His eyes scanning the environs of each for only a moment, before pushing on to the next, finally finding themselves in a quaint room towards the rear of the house. The view from the window looked out to an overgrown garden, but it leant to a feeling of being a world away from the busy Parisian streets. Lucy searched the closets and shuffled through some of the paper that littered the floor, looking for any sign that someone had been using this house as a makeshift hideout. Wyatt, however, seemed to be more interested in the old Victrola that stood in the corner. Smiling to himself, he made his way over to the machine, blowing off an old vinyl record before attempting to get the machine started.

Curious, Lucy turned to see what he was up to, "Wyatt?" Lucy asked with a small laugh, "what on Earth are you doing?" Making her way over to him, she shook her head, "No…you have to wind it up, like this…" she demonstrated as he stood back and watched her as she gently placed the needle down on the old vinyl record. The soft sounds of "I Dream of Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair" began to echo throughout the near empty space and Lucy smiled triumphantly, "See, it's not so har…" she paused as her eyes met Wyatt's who was gazing at her intently. "Wyatt…?"

Pulling her close, Wyatt pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before taking her hand in his, his other hand gently splayed on her back, and began to dance with her. They swayed back and forth in time to the music, Wyatt resting his head against Lucy's as they carved out a small little piece of heaven amidst the hell of searching for Garcia Flynn. Lucy, completely bewildered by Wyatt's behavior finally pulled him to a stop. "Wyatt," she chuckled, "we're supposed to be looking for Lindbergh…if Flynn…"

"I don't want to talk about Flynn" Wyatt murmured as he brushed a hand across her cheek.

Lucy looked back at him in confusion and then stunned surprise as she noted that there was not the slightest hint of teasing in Wyatt's voice. The look of longing in his eyes had rendered her almost speechless, until a sudden movement outside one of the windows caught his attention.

'Shit." he hissed as he grabbed Lucy and pulled her down to the floor just as a spray of bullets came pelting through the windows filling the room with the sound of shattering glass. "Are you okay?" Wyatt asked as he ran his hands along Lucy's side.

Coughing from the upset of dust, Lucy nodded as Wyatt grabbed her hand and the two of them ducked out of the room, another spray of bullets following them as they left. Racing into the large foyer they nearly ran into Hemingway and Rufus as they came rushing from their side of the house wondering what was going on. Wyatt didn't even have a chance to explain, when he saw one of Flynn's henchman skulking around outside, "Everybody get down!" he gritted out as he drew his gun. More gunshots pierced the already broken windows as Lucy, Rufus and Ernest Hemingway hit the floor in a cloud of dust and shattered glass.

Peeking out of the now paneless window, Wyatt caught a glimpse of their attacker skirting around the side of the palais. "Stay here." he ordered as he took off after him, ignoring Lucy's pleas to stay.

Wyatt ran out into the warm, Parisian night, determined to end this damn goose chase once and for all, he was already mad as hell that Flynn had ruined his evening…now he had almost killed Lucy and well, to put it bluntly, Wyatt was tired of this bullshit. He wasn't going to lose her again…and he would be damned if he was about to let Flynn completely derail any more of his plans for the evening. Taking careful aim, he made two shots, both of which, hit their mark and landed the goon in an overgrown hedgerow in the garden. Wyatt realized as soon as he turned back to the house, that he made a mistake in killing the asshole who had shot at them. Flynn and Lindbergh could literally be anywhere…and quite possibly, aware of their presence now, after that little gunfight. Upon reentering the house however, he realized that he had made another mistake; he stupidly believed he could trust a drunken Ernest Hemingway and Rufus to keep an eye on Lucy while he ran in pursuit of one of Flynn's henchmen.

Obviously, he couldn't…because now she was missing.

"Not one of you saw what the hell happened to her?" he spat out angrily.

"I was…um…indisposed." Hemingway said in his defense as he pointed at Rufus who looked at Wyatt with such apologetic sorrow, it was almost hard to be mad at him.

Almost.

"What the hell, Rufus?" Wyatt shouted in frustration. "You let Flynn take off with her again?"

"She was here!" Rufus exclaimed defensively. "She was right here! I left to make sure Hemingway wasn't going to die…I swear, Wyatt…I left her alone for less than a minute…and she was just gone."

A litany of curse words escaped Wyatt as he fought hard to keep the mounting panic in his chest at bay. "Lucy!" he called, but it was no use…his voice echoed off the bare walls of the chateau only serving to reinforce the idea that she had essentially vanished into thin air.

Memories of 1780 came flooding back into his mind; of Flynn dragging Lucy through the New York wilderness and into the waiting Mothership. 1889 Johnstown, too, made an appearance, though Wyatt refused to dwell on those particular memories.

Lucy was fine.

She had to be.

"Hey, hey…calm down. It'll be okay." Hemingway said as he tried to dispel the tension. "How about a little medicine?" he offered as he pulled a bottle out of his pocket.

"Are you kidding me?" Rufus asked him incredulously, "Your drinking is what got us into this mess."

"Oh, stop sounding like a woman." Hemingway scoffed as he took a drink of alcohol completely missing Wyatt and Rufus exchanged looks, both men thinking the same thing; it was a good thing Lucy hadn't heard him say that. "Right now," he said with a dramatic flourish, "there are countless people buried in the catacombs below us. Death, my friends, is everywhere."

"What a happy thought." Rufus said sarcastically as he threw up his hands in exasperation. Wyatt, meanwhile, was breathing out curses and searching the perimeter for any sign of where Lucy might have been taken, not wanting to think about death at all.

"So, what are my choices?" Hemingway continued, undeterred by Rufus and Wyatt's seemingly lack of interest in his soliloquy. "Give up? Curl into a ball and die? Or live and drink and fight and screw on behalf of those who can't?"

"You are a world class jerk, Hemingway." Rufus spat back at him with a concerned look towards a near frantic Wyatt. "Do you even care that Lucy is missing?"

"Of course I do, but you can either stand there like a corpse or be a man and fight!"

"Fight?" Rufus asked incredulously, "fight who? Do you see anybody in this whole house that we can fight? Because I sure as hell don't!"

"Have either one of you ever been in a war?" Hemingway asked, "Because I have…"

"As an ambulance driver." Wyatt pointed out. "For the Red Cross."

"I took shrapnel." Hemingway said with a nod. "Earned myself the Bronze Star for bravery."

"Congratulations." Wyatt muttered as he went back to search for any sign of where Lucy could have gone, not desiring to waste any more time chatting with the self-important author.

Rufus, however, had had his fill. "I have fought the Germans, the Shawnee, the French, the British, cowboys, killers…people you couldn't even imagine. And no, I may not have fought in the Great War…which, by the way, sounds like the most pointless war in the history of wars, but I have fought!"

Far from being deterred by Rufus' speech, Hemingway grinned broadly and slapped him on the back, "That's the spirit, Rufus! Now how about a toast?"

Fed up with Hemingway's speeches and pissed as hell that he wanted to sit around and drink while Lucy was missing, Wyatt wrenched the bottle out of Hemingway's hand and smashed it to the floor. "Oops." he spat out sardonically as he rolled his eyes at Hemingway's affronted expression.

If Hemingway was offended, however, he did not stay so for long. With a sad look to the floor, he shook his head and muttered, "Well, that is unfortunate." Wyatt said nothing more. Instead, he stepped away, the crunch of broken glass under his feet and the distinct sound of wasted liquid trickling into the depth below them.

"The Catacombs." Rufus whispered as his eyes darted to Wyatt's. Turning once more to Hemingway he sought for confirmation, "You said there were catacombs below us?"

"Well, yes." Ernest Hemingway said with a shrug. "So?"

"So, what if Flynn isn't in any of these buildings?" Wyatt mumbled thoughtfully. "What if he's underneath us?"

Lucy was having a hell of a time. In the moment that Rufus had gone to check on a doubled over Ernest Hemingway, she had been assaulted from behind, hand over her mouth and carried from the palais in a matter of seconds. They hadn't gone very far, for right outside the ramshackle mansion, was the entrance to the catacombs where she was currently being pulled and dragged by not one, but two of Flynn's henchmen.

"Get your hands off me!" she gritted out angrily as she tried to wrench her arms out of their grips, but it was to no avail. They roughly led her through the twisting, turning labyrinth of tunnels until she was face to face with none other than Garcia Flynn, himself. "Will you tell them to let me go?" she spat out at Flynn.

"Let her go." he obliged lazily as he shook his head at her. "Come to wish me a Happy New Year, Lucy?"

"No." she replied shortly. She wanted to say he had ruined her New Year's, but she couldn't quite bring herself to complain about a trip to Paris, even if she was currently standing in the musty ancient burial ground that was the catacombs. "Your men nabbed me." She corrected as she stared daggers at him. "I had no choice in the matter."

"You always have a choice, Lucy." Flynn countered with a smug smile. "You could have stayed home and enjoyed your holiday...spent time with family."

Lucy's eyes darted to his, flashing in anger, "You knew…didn't you? You knew that my father was Rittenhouse. You told me at the Hindenburg they had chosen me for a reason…and that's why isn't it? Why didn't you just tell me?"

"Because some things you have to learn for yourself." Flynn said with a shrug. "You don't even want to believe that this journal" he said as he pulled it out of his coat pocket, "was written by you…that you gave it to me…what makes you think you would've believed me if I had told you the truth about your family?"

He had her there. There was no way in hell she would've believed anything Garcia Flynn had to say on that front…not at first, anyway...though she had to admit that now, more than ever, she was questioning what was right or wrong anymore. Rittenhouse…Garcia Flynn…which one posed the bigger threat?

It's like the swing of a pendulum, Lucy. Wyatt had said when she asked him the same question. Both of them were dangerous…both of them worked on the extremes. She had to somehow survive somewhere in the middle.

They all did.

Catching her hesitancy, Flynn pressed further, "You had to see with your own eyes who they are and why you will fight them."

"Because everybody knows my future except me." Lucy bit back indignantly. "Where's Lindbergh?" Flynn smirked as he indicated a small anteroom that was barred with a door. "What do you want with him? You've already ruined his historic flight."

"Yes, well…eventually we will kill him." Flynn said as if he were trying to assure her of his nefarious reputation. "Right now, however, I'm trying to convince him to give me the names of some of his father's Rittenhouse acquaintances in Congress." He chuckled dryly, "As you can imagine, that's not going so well."

"What if I talk to him?" Lucy offered. "Rittenhouse to Rittenhouse?" Claiming such a connection may have made her want to vomit, but she was determined. "He gives you the information you want…and you let him go? Deal?"

"You know in about a decade he becomes a monumental ass?" Flynn asked sardonically.

"So? What if I can convince him to…to…leave Rittenhouse? To…"

"To turn his back on all of that wealth, fame, power, notoriety?" Flynn finished for her doubtfully. "Do you honestly believe anyone would give all of that up?"

"Yes." Lucy said in a voice filled with emotion. "Because I would…I mean, I did."

Yet even as she said it, there was a small voice in the back of her head that haunted her…the voice of her newly discovered father, Benjamin Cahill, that told her she couldn't escape from her destiny, her legacy. She was Rittenhouse whether she liked it or not…and that was something she was going to have to come to grips with sooner or later.

Flynn nodded thoughtfully at her, looking more than a little impressed. "Alright, fine." He agreed. "I'll take that bet…it'll be entertaining to watch you lose anyway."

Feeling as if it were more than just Charles Lindbergh's life on the line, Lucy nodded at Flynn determinedly as he opened the door to the anteroom and ushered her in with a dramatic swoop of his arm. Lucy startled back in surprise as there before her was the man she had studied nearly all of her life, looking nothing like the proud hero she had seen in countless books. Instead, he looked broken, scared and in a considerable amount of pain.

"Are…are you alright?" Lucy asked in a trembling voice.

"Just a dislocated arm." Lindbergh replied casually, "What does that lunatic want with us anyway?"

"He knows we're both Rittenhouse." Lucy admitted quickly in a breathy voice.

Though Lindbergh tried to deny it at first, Lucy put him at ease, by revealing her own family connections and the little she knew of the organization. He may have been more aware of his Rittenhouse lineage than she did, but as she sat there looking at him, she felt at once, that he was really no different than she was. He had spent his entire life trying to please his father, being told that great things were expected of him, and feeling like he really had no choice in the matter. When he told her that his dream was to live on a small farm and raise a family, it made her heart ache for the simple life she also wanted for herself…a simple life with Wyatt.

Wyatt.

Lucy knew he was probably half way to insane with worry by now, but she also couldn't leave Lindbergh to die at Flynn's hands…even if he had already altered his historic flight. She wondered how that might affect the timeline. If Lindbergh didn't become the world's greatest aviator, would he get that first-hand look at the Luftwaffe? It was Lindbergh, after all, who recommended that Britain and France strengthen their air power to dissuade Hitler. Would he still be in the position to do that? Would he be called upon to lead the American First Committee? And if he wasn't...would that mean Rittenhouse lost?

Not that Lindbergh's efforts undermined the Allied efforts in the end…after Pearl Harbor even he couldn't deny the need to fight back. But still…they would have lost their "golden fly boy", their mouthpiece…that had to make some kind of negative impact on Rittenhouse, right?

Oh God…what if it didn't? What if it made things worse?

Lucy sat staring at Lindbergh as he spoke to her of his doubts, and the hopes and dreams he had had…and she suddenly became keenly aware that his story was not unlike her own. Her mother had plotted out a course for her life. Stanford. She had to teach at Stanford. Not the small-town college in Ohio she had had her heart set on. No. That was not what she had been brought up for. She wondered vaguely if Benjamin Cahill cared whether she taught in Ohio or California…until Flynn's words from 1937 came flooding back into her consciousness.

Ask them why they chose you.

It wouldn't have mattered. They would have come to get her in any corner of the world, because as Lucy thought again bitterly, Everybody knows my future except me. Her mother wanted her at Stanford, her father wanted her at Mason, Flynn wanted her to join him so they could fulfill whatever God-forsaken destiny was in that journal and become "quite the team."

It was times like these that Lucy missed Amy the most. How often had she told her to stop trying to please their mother and make her own future? How disappointed had she been when Lucy turned down that job in Ohio? What would she say now?

Lucy thought working for Mason was carving out her own future, going against her mother's wishes, but that too, had apparently been something carefully plotted out for her.

Suddenly, Lucy felt trapped. Panic rose in her chest as she realized she hadn't the foggiest idea of what to do anymore. Here she was, an unwitting pawn for Rittenhouse, trying to save the history…but a history they wanted protected…complete with people like her…like Lindbergh who they manipulated and bullied and coerced throughout the years to do their bidding. If Lindbergh had felt as she did and succumbed to the inevitable…what did that mean for her?

What was the alternative? Teaming up with Flynn? Murdering her way through history with no concern of what it might mean for the future? And if she helped him destroy Rittenhouse…what on Earth did that mean for her? At some point, he would inevitably kill someone connected to her, wouldn't he? And then what would happen? Would she just cease to exist? If Flynn killed off someone in the Cahill family while she was in the present…would she just disappear like Amy?

Who would remember her if that happened? Not Rufus…not Wyatt…they would be just as ignorant of her existence as anyone else. Why then would she give Flynn the means to her own destruction? Why would she help him? To escape her inevitable fall into Rittenhouse?

She felt damned any way she looked at the situation and the walls of the catacombs seemed to be closing in on her until a faint memory popped into her head.

If you don't like the future Flynn has predicted for you, then rewrite it.

Wyatt's admonition cut through the chaos of her mind like a finely-honed missile. Flynn, her mother, Rittenhouse…did it really matter? All of her life she had done what was expected of her; the honor roll, the student organizations, the clubs. When she got older, it was the colleges, the courses of study, her major…and later, the job she accepted. She kept thinking back to Amy's disappointed face…but Lucy wasn't a risk taker. Why would she be? Hadn't she learned her lesson? The one time she had tried to do something unexpected and spontaneous, she had nearly lost her life in a watery grave.

But she didn't.

Lucy gasped as that realization settled on her. Yes, it had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life, but she had been saved, someone was there to pull her out of the overwhelming depths of the dark and swirling current and carry her to safety. Her life for the past few weeks…well, if she were being quite honest…since that first trip to 1937, had spun completely out of control. Amy, her father…Noah…her life had been upended in so many ways, but someone had been there too, to offer a life line…even when she was too stubborn to see it.

There's always a mess. So, we make it up as we go.

Wyatt. Reckless, hotheaded and brave, Wyatt. He didn't care about the rules, he didn't obsess over details…he just acted. He could have taken the safe path…lived in a timeline where he may not have had Lucy, but at least, he had Jessica. Instead, he took a gamble…and saved her life in the process. He had jumped in head first, not because he didn't care about the consequences…but because he knew in his heart it was the right thing to do. How often had he made those decisions, time and time again…the ones she was too scared to make? And how many times had he been right?

She already knew she loved him, but now…she knew beyond a doubt that she needed him. He had saved her in the literal and figurative sense…and somehow, even though she felt overwhelmed by all of these forces pulling at her in opposite directions, she knew that with Wyatt at her side, she could brave the current. He would be her stay, her constant…the one who would protect her and fight alongside her through thick and thin.

"Family is family. Blood is blood." Lindbergh was saying, bringing Lucy out of her thoughts, "I can't even imagine what my father would say if I turned my back on Rittenhouse."

"Does your father care about what you want, Charles?" Lucy asked thoughtfully, "My father doesn't…my mother either, for that matter."

Lindbergh let out a small chuckle, "Well…we don't exactly have much of a choice."

She couldn't believe that…she wouldn't believe that.

"History is made up of choices." Lucy muttered as she bit her lip, remembering that conversation from so long ago. "So are small…inconsequential…some are big." Lindbergh looked up at her in interest as she continued, "If you want to buy a farm, get married…settled down…then do it."

"Disappear?" Lindbergh asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea how many people are probably out looking for me right now? My dad is a Congressman for crying out loud."

Lucy shook her head, "Your plane crashed…I'm sure after a while, they'll just assume…"

"That I died?" he asked skeptically.

"Why not?" Lucy said with a shrug. "You can choose the life you want" Lucy nodded determinedly, "we both can."

Lindbergh laughed, "You obviously don't know much about Rittenhouse. They're everywhere…you can't just disappear. Sooner or later…they'll find you."

"Then we need to find them first." came Garcia Flynn's voice from the open doorway.

Wyatt was getting anxious.

He thought he would have found her by now…yet each darkened pathway they traversed seemed to lead to a whole lot of nothing. Fighting hard to keep his mounting panic at bay, he took out his frustration on a very loud Ernest Hemingway who was rattling a stick against the grooves of the bone-filled walls surrounding them. "You know, this will be a hell of a lot easier if they don't hear us coming." Wyatt spat out. "Do you even know where the hell we are?"

"Of course!" exclaimed Hemingway with a smile. "We are underneath the streets of Paris."

Rufus raised his eyebrows, "I…um…think what Wyatt meant was do you know where we are going?"

"Oh God no." Hemingway responded with a shrug. "People get lost and die down here all the time."

"Oh, that's just great." Wyatt spat out as kicked at the wall. Of course, this is how his night would end up. Lucy kidnapped, possibly killed…and he was going to die in this hellhole because he trusted a drunk Ernest Hemingway to be his damn tour guide.

He deserved this. This was karma. He should have just proposed to Lucy when he had the chance.

Wyatt couldn't reflect on his regrets in peace, however, because Ernest Hemingway was now belting out a French tune at the top of his lungs. Irritated, Wyatt rushed over to him in an attempt to get him to shut the hell up. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Do you want them to…" suddenly Wyatt stopped, an idea popping into his head. "Rufus…make as much noise as you can."

"Wyatt…you just said…"

"I know what I said, Rufus" Wyatt said in a voice of forced calm. "What do you think Flynn's going to do if he hears us making all kinds of racket down here?"

"He'll send someone to kill us." Rufus said matter of factly, "So, forgive me if I'm not lining up for that option. Your New Year's might have gone up in flames, but I'm still holding out hope for mine. I'd rather not die in 1927 Paris if it's all the same to you."

"But it's May…" Hemingway remarked in confusion.

Ignoring him, Wyatt hissed, "Listen to me, Rufus…if Flynn sends someone to find us…"

'We'll be able to see which direction they're coming from." Hemingway finished with a smack of his lips, "I like this plan."

Setting straight to work, the trio ran through the endless passages of the Catacombs, calling for Lucy. As the minutes wore on, Wyatt felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that perhaps he was wrong…Flynn had either already left, or he was too well hidden, not giving a damn that anyone was looking for him. Just as that depressing thought came into his head, however, Wyatt heard the tale tell sound of a footfall from somewhere behind them. Shushing Rufus and Hemingway, Wyatt continued to call out for Lucy, motioning to the two of them to keep a look out. As they tucked themselves away in an alcove, the approaching footsteps slowed, until finally from the shadows, a man with a gun emerged, taking deadly aim at Wyatt's back.

"Surprise, you sonofabitch!" Hemingway yelled as he landed the goon on his ass. "That's what I call the Hemingway hook."

"He's completely knocked out." Wyatt observed with a huff, "How the hell are we supposed to find Lucy now?"

As if in answer to that question, a faint voice sounded somewhere down the darkened passage they had just passed. Frantic, Wyatt practically leaped over the sprawled figure of Flynn's henchman and raced down the darkened corridor, "Lucy?!" he called out stumbling slightly as he ran.

"Wyatt! Wait for us!" Rufus called out desperately as he stumbled over the prostrate man.

Searching the corridors desperately, Wyatt ran from one to the other until he found himself in a corridor that was flooded with water. Memories of Johnstown came hurtling back to him as he sought to stem the mounting panic building in his chest. He had lost her…again…and he didn't know what to do. "Lucy!" he bellowed as he kicked at the wall.

A faint cracking sound above him suddenly turned into an onslaught of falling rocks and debris. Leaping out of the way, Wyatt crashed to the floor with a grimace as a pile of stones amassed, completely blocking his only way out.

Shit.

In the pitch dark, he eased himself up feeling the barrier in front of him, looking for any type of opening. A few loose rocks clattered to the ground at his feet, but he was reluctant to begin moving the larger stones in the event a worse cave in might occur. Behind him, he knew that the corridor was flooded and he had no way of knowing if it even offered a way out. He sank to the floor, head in his hands, feeling like a complete failure. He had lost Lucy and now he was probably going to die down here…alone…

"Wyatt?" Rufus faint voice called from somewhere beyond the impenetrable barrier.

"Rufus!" Wyatt called out desperately. "Get me the hell out of here!"

"What the hell?" came Rufus' clearer voice, "Wyatt, how the hell did…"

"Wyatt!?" Lucy's panicked voice sounded over Rufus'

"Lucy?" Wyatt gasped out. "How…how….I looked everywhere…"

"Well, if you wouldn't have taken off like a bat out of hell," Rufus explained, "you would've found her…well, actually she found us…but my point is, if you wouldn't have abandoned my ass back there, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh, my." Hemingway sounded off, "Now this looks like an adventure!"

"Can we get him out of there?" Lucy breathed out.

"I think so." Lindbergh answered. "It doesn't look too bad. We just need to be careful…don't want to cause a bigger cave in, get us all trapped down here."

"Rufus?" Lucy asked, "You're an engineer…"

"Yeah…but…this…" Rufus shook his head uneasily.

"I believe in you, Rufus" Hemingway said as he clapped him on the back, "remember, we fight!"

"Yeah…we fight." Rufus said nervously. "Okay…give me that flashlight…"

On and on they worked, following Rufus' instructions, carefully removing each stone as if they were playing a life and death version of Jenga…not that Hemingway or Lindbergh knew what that was. Finally, after what felt like hours a small opening appeared at the top and got larger, until Wyatt, bloodied, dusty, and with a completely ruined suit came crawling out of the top and into Lucy's waiting arms. Kissing her soundly, Wyatt pulled back leaned his forehead against hers muttering, "Thanks for saving me, ma'am."

"I beg your pardon." Rufus admonished, "I think that was me."

"I'll kiss you later." Wyatt promised.

"Don't worry about it." Rufus said with a glare, "But if you don't mind, I'd like to get the hell out of this creepy ass place…like now."

Following Rufus' lead, Wyatt held onto Lucy as they made their way out of the catacombs and back onto the streets of Paris. When they were safely above ground, Wyatt pulled her to the side and whispered, "How the hell did you get away from Flynn?"

She smirked, "I convinced him to give me a chance to get Lindbergh to talk…Rittenhouse a Rittenhouse….and he did. Lindbergh gave him a few of his Rittenhouse contacts and he let us both go." She nodded towards Lindbergh, "We're going to see if we can't have Josephine Baker find him a place to hide out so Rittenhouse won't keep pursuing him." She swallowed hard as she continued, "Maybe he can lead a simple life away from all of that…"

"But if he goes into hiding, he won't get credit for this flight…are you sure you're okay with that?" Wyatt asked her tentatively.

Lucy sighed, "Am I ever okay with changing history? But in this case…"

Wyatt nodded at her in understanding, "Lucy…it's going to be okay. I know this isn't the way it's supposed to happen, but…"

"There's always a mess." she finished with a smile, "so we make it up as we go, right?"

He nodded at her with a smirk, "That's right."

Lucy sighed, "I guess this New Year's didn't turn out quite like we planned?"

Wyatt frowned as he tugged her by the hand, "C'mon," he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice, "let's catch up with the others."

Lucy, however, stood immoveable quirking her brow at him with a smile, "You have been trying to get me alone all night and now you want to catch up with everyone else?"

Wyatt threw his head back and sighed heavily, "Lucy…I think we can both agree that this night has been kind of a disaster."

"Oh I don't know about that…we're all still in one piece." she said as she wrapped her arms around him. Checking her watch, she announced, "And if we hurry, we can make it home by midnight...though I have to be honest," she said as she bit her lip, "I wasn't too excited about the James Bond marathon."

Wyatt chuckled as he pulled her closer, "Neither was I ma'am." Lucy offered him a sardonic grin, but Wyatt insisted, "Come on, Lucy…do you honestly believe that all I had planned for our first New Year's together was a lame ass James Bond marathon?"

"Mmmm what did you have planned?" Lucy asked with a quirked brow.

"Not that…and definitely not this." Wyatt sighed in frustration, 'I wanted tonight to be perfect, Lucy."

"Who says it isn't?" she asked as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

"You just pulled me out of a damn hole in the ground, Lucy…we've been shot at, you've been kidnapped…"

"Yeah…definitely some forgettable moments there." she agreed, "But that doesn't mean the entire night has to be a complete waste. We're together, at least...that's got to count for something."

Wyatt looked around. It wasn't the most romantic spot in the city…hell, they were literally standing in front of the dilapidated wreck of a house they had nearly been killed in earlier, but when had anything in their lives ever gone as they planned? He tugged at her hands and led her over to a small park across the street from where they had been standing. It wasn't particularly beautiful or memorable, but this wasn't about that…it was about them.

"You asked me what I had planned?" Wyatt sighed as he brushed a hand against her cheek and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Grimacing slightly, he knelt down, the cuts and bruises he had suffered making it an uncomfortable task. As a small groan escaped his lips, Lucy reached out for him to pull him back up, but he waved her away, "No ma'am...Flynn may have blown all the rest of our plans to hell, but he's not screwing this up."

Lucy shook her head at him and smiled, "Wyatt, you could propose to me standing up and I'd still say…"

He silenced her with a playful look, "No answers until I've asked you, ma'am." Wyatt teased, "I want to be surprised." He sighed as he dug around in his coat pocket, chuckling dryly, "You know, I've been carrying this around since…since…" a look of sheer panic stole across Wyatt's face.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asked in confusion.

Wyatt sprang to his feet and felt his pockets frantically before kicking at the grounding frustration. "Shit!" How could he have screwed this up so badly? Every day...he had carried that ring around every day just waiting for the opportunity to propose. After Christmas, however, he had tucked it away so that he wouldn't be tempted to jump the gun...but in that week he had grown accustomed to not obsessively checking his pockets for the small velvet box. Maybe that's why, on what was to be the most important night of his life, he had left it behind. "Bam Bam's suit." Wyatt explained weakly. "I forgot to grab it when I stole Bam Bam's suit."

"It's okay, Wyatt." Lucy offered as he paced in front of her in agitation. She was doing her best to stifle a laugh, but couldn't hide her amusement.

"No it's not okay, Lucy." Wyatt sighed out in frustration. "I had everything planned perfectly…we were going to go on that Speakeasy Cruise…until Flynn had to go and blow all of that to hell..."

"That…that was for us?" Lucy gasped.

Wyatt grunted in acknowledgement, "And then I thought, hey, at least it's Paris…" Wyatt continued as he paced in frustration, "but I had to kick Bam Bam's ass just to get here…probably going to have to answer for that when we get back." He scoffed, "Why is it that every time I think we catch a break, something comes along to screw it all up?"

"Wyatt..." Lucy consoled, but he wasn't listening.

"Every time I tried to get you alone, it was Rufus calling for us or Flynn shooting at us...and then after running around all night in the catacombs, I don't even have the damn ring."

Lucy smiled to herself as she reached out and grabbed Wyatt's arm, stilling him and drawing his attention back to her. "There's always a mess, right?" Wyatt huffed bitterly and nodded. "So..." Lucy encouraged, "we make it up as we go." Smiling, she worked off one of the shimmering tassels of her dress and handed it to him, "Here."

"What the hell is that?" Wyatt asked her blankly as he stared at the sparkly piece of fabric in her hand.

"We're improvising." she said with a determined nod as she held out the tassel to him.

Doubtful, Wyatt stared back her, "I thought you wanted this to be perfect?"

"It is perfect, Wyatt." she answered with a nod.

Wyatt rolled his eyes as he took the tassel from her, smirking as he knelt down again, gently pulling her hand closer to him as he began to tie the shimmering bit of fabric around her dainty finger, "You realize this is worse than that damn mood ring, right?" he asked.

"I don't care." Lucy murmured happily as he secured the tassel to her finger with a small bow. She knelt down before him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, "Now" she muttered with a smile, ".…was that so hard?"

"I still haven't asked you anything yet, ma'am." he murmured against her lips.

"Oh right." she said a bit flustered as she sat back in expectation, but Wyatt pulled her in for a desperate kiss, pulling her closer to him until he could feel her heart beating in time with his own. Breaking away from the kiss, only slightly, Wyatt nuzzled his face against hers and whispered, "Marry me?" Lucy answered by recapturing his lips with her own with such a force that it threw off his balance and had them both toppling onto the ground in a fit of giggles. "Is that a yes?" Wyatt chuckled.

Lucy nodded happily, her voice lost somewhere in the confines of her throat. When she finally managed to squeak out a "yes" Wyatt beamed and kissed her again, before pulling them both to their feet.

He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, holding her close, never wanting this moment to end. "You're right." Wyatt muttered, "this isperfect." He thought over everything he had been through over the past few months; stumbling into that new timeline, realizing his feelings for Lucy, losing Lucy…saving Lucy…and now…now he was going to have that back...he was going to have his wife back…but this time they were both going to remember their engagement, their wedding…this time they were on the same page...this time it was real.

"I hope you know you're stuck with me now." Lucy said as she flashed her tasseled finger at him. "This is a binding arrangement."

"That's just fine with me." Wyatt assured, "I told you Lucy, I would've married you the moment I came back from that other timeline."

Lucy moved her arms from around his back and instead, entwined them around his neck, "I'm sorry it took me so long," she smiled, "guess we'll just have to make up for lost time."

Wyatt offered her a devilish grin as he pulled her into another kiss, "I like the sound of that." he whispered against her lips.

Deliriously happy, they walked hand in hand towards the Pont Neuf, hardly caring about anything or anyone else in the world except each other. How many months had passed since Lucy had sat in her car wondering about the possibilities that could happen between two people in the City of Lights? If she had known then that the next time the team jumped to Paris she would be as good as married to Wyatt, she would have never believed it. Now, with the added stress of Rittenhouse looming over their lives like a dark cloud, Lucy was less inclined to believe that their road would be an easy one, but she knew that no matter what was thrown their way, she and Wyatt would brave it together.

As they made their way across the medieval bridge, the bells of Notre Dame Cathedral began to chime, prompting Wyatt to check his watch. "Would you look at that? It's midnight back home…" He pulled her over to the side of the bridge, taking in the beautiful Parisian skyline. There may not have been fireworks, but somehow, Wyatt thought Lucy didn't mind so much. She looked out at the city in breathless wonder, only dropping her gaze occasionally to admire her tasseled finger. Wrapping her up in his arms, Wyatt pressed a kiss to her lips and murmured, "Happy New Year, Lucy."

"Happy New Year, Wyatt." she returned with a smile, "guess your New Year's Eve plans turned out alright, after all."

Wyatt nodded with a smirk, tugging her along, "We may be in the wrong century and it may not even be the right month," he chuckled, "but this was definitely a New Year's Eve to remember."

"I'll say." said Lucy, wrapping her arm around his waist as they walked side by side. "I know you had the perfect evening planned, Wyatt...but I wouldn't trade this for the world." She leaned her head on his shoulder as she teased, "I mean, now I get to be engaged to you for 90 years."

"That's one hell of a long engagement" Wyatt agreed, "probably don't want to advertise that to your mom or Noah, though. They already think I'm an asshole...stringing you along for 90 years? That'll just seal the deal." Lucy laughed but stopped suddenly in the middle of the bridge and looked towards the Cathedral. "What's wrong?" Wyatt asked in sudden concern.

Lucy turned back to look at him, subdued excitement written all over her face as a world of possibilities suddenly seemed to open up before her. Taking his hands in hers, she tugged him along quickly as she impishly whispered, "I have an idea."

Four months and twenty-one days later….

Rufus sat alone at a table in the reception hall watching Wyatt and Lucy dance slowly with one another, completely oblivious to anyone else in the room. The two people he loved most in the world outside of his own family and Jiya, were married…finally…for real this time…and he couldn't be prouder. Despite what Wyatt had to say about it, Rufus knew that he played a part in making this happen…hell, he had been there to watch it all unfold…which is why he was not buying the crazy conspiracy theory Jiya and Bam Bam were trying to sell him.

"Alright," Jiya whispered as she slid into the vacant chair beside him, "I was just talking to the wedding planner and she told me that Wyatt and Lucy chose this venue because it was the only one open for this specific day."

Rufus frowned and nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense."he said matter-of-factly, "I told you, they wanted this day because they got engaged on this day. Nothing unusual about that."

Despite Rufus' assurances, the date for their wedding had been the one thing that Jiya was most suspicious about. No sooner had the two of them stumbled their way down the Lifeboat stairs completely wrapped up in one another than they had announced the date of their intended nuptials. It didn't matter that Bam Bam was sitting in the launch bay with a black eye or that Agent Christopher looked like she was about to skin Wyatt alive; he made no excuses for his rebellious act from earlier that day. Instead, he marched directly up to a fuming Agent Christopher and told her that under no circumstances would he and Lucy be traveling on May 22…because that was the day they were getting married.

"So soon?" Jiya had piped up.

"Well," Wyatt responded with a flush, "we've technically been engaged for 90 years now…why wait?"

"Do you think you'll be able to get a venue in that short amount of time?" Mason piped up, "I mean, I can pull a few strings here and there, but four months…and in the Spring, well, it's going to be quite a challenge."

Wyatt shrugged, "Doesn't matter. We don't need anything big." he said with a smile to a beaming Lucy, "This is more for you guys anyway."

Rufus thought it was cute; intending on getting married 90 years to the day they had gotten engaged in the past, but that one remark had set Jiya from mildly curious to straight up conspiracy theorist. "This is for us? A wedding is about them…why would he say that, Rufus? Why?" she asked, "Unless…; she had said with a gasp, "they're already married!"

Rufus laughed out loud at that. "And just when would they have been able to do that? Hell, forget about when…how?" he asked. "Did you see Lucy's finger? Wyatt didn't even have the damn ring, I highly doubt he went to Paris with a damn marriage certificate…and it's even more doubtful that anybody from 1927 would honor one from this century."

"Crazier things have happened, Rufus." Jiya reminded him. "Hello, you are literally a time traveler…according to the rest of the world, this isn't supposed to be possible."

"Yeah, but this? "Rufus countered as he shook his head. He thought over what had happened in the hours before they departed Paris. Wyatt and Lucy had come racing into the gin joint where Lindbergh was meeting with Josephine Baker. Lucy flashed her tasseled finger to Rufus with a giggle while she and Wyatt cornered Ernest Hemingway. After chatting with him animatedly for some time, they disappeared again and Hemingway merely returned to the table and commented that he "knew those two had it bad for each other."

Hours later they had come back, smiling, happy, and more than a little disheveled…which not only made for an uncomfortable trip back in the LifeBoat, it also made asking questions completely off-limits. Seeing that silly string tied to her finger and knowing what Wyatt's intentions for New Year's Eve had been, Rufus had had a pretty good idea of what had happened without needing to have it spelled out for him. Especially when he almost had to get out the hose to keep the two of them apart so they could make the jump back to the present.

Besides, it was none of his damn business, anyway.

Something he reminded Jiya on an almost daily basis.

She was not easily deterred, however, especially after Wyatt and Lucy disappeared for a whole week not long after they had gotten back from 1927. No one could get in touch with them, no one knew where they were, no one had seen them…in fact, Agent Christopher was about to put out an APB when they finally showed up at Mason, giggling, tanned, and sickeningly lovey dovey, completely surprised that they had been missed at all. "Did Flynn jump?" Wyatt asked as he looked at his phone.

"No, but…well, no one knew where you were." Rufus had explained. "We'd call you and it would go straight to voice mail. You weren't at your apartment…"

"Well…" Wyatt had said with a shrug, "Lucy and I just wanted some time away…is that a problem?"

"No." Rufus said with a frown as Jiya rolled her eyes, "Not at all…I was thinking about taking a trip myself." Rufus said with a nod, "Get away from the grind….take a few days to relax and unwind…nothing unusual about that at all."

"You should." Wyatt said with a broad grin as he stole a flirtatious glance at Lucy, "it was one of the best week we've had in a while."

"That's because it was a honeymoon" Jiya had muttered under her breath, but if Wyatt or Lucy heard her they gave no indication. Rufus, however, nudged her in the ribs as Wyatt winked at him and rejoined Lucy.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with taking some personal time away from their crazy lives at Mason…Rufus couldn't fault him there…but Jiya had a point…to not even tell anybody they were going to be gone for a whole week? Not even to pick up their mail? Water their plants?

Okay, he wasn't sure if they actually had plants that needed watering but still…that was a little weird, right?

And the next few weeks proved to be even weirder, with Wyatt and Lucy both slipping occasionally and referring to one another as their husband or wife. Rufus chocked it up to old habits…well, in Wyatt's case anyway. Wyatt had been married to other Lucy, after all, and he knew probably more than anyone how much Wyatt had wanted that life with her again. For Lucy, it was a little harder to explain away, but Rufus maintained to Jiya that "the two of them already acted like a damn married couple, so what they hell did it matter what they called each other?"

Jiya elbowed Rufus out of his reverie and pointed to Bam Bam who was motioning them over to the bar where he had been doing some reconnaissance of his own. Curious, Rufus and Jiya made their way over under the guise of ordering another drink, "What'd you find out?" Jiya asked him.

"Nothing much from the other guests…but the minister…" Bam Bam nodded meaningfully towards the man who officiated the wedding, "he told me he had never seen a groom as eager as Wyatt. Told me he kept referring to Lucy as his wife during all of their pre-wedding…ya know…stuff."

"See, Rufus? I'm telling you," Jiya said firmly, "they got married in Paris."

'And I'm telling you, it doesn't surprise me that Wyatt called Lucy his wife…she was once upon a time." Rufus countered, "It doesn't mean a damn thing."

Jiya, however, wasn't paying any attention, "Didn't you tell me that Ernest Hemingway said Paris was like the Las Vegas of Europe or something back in the day?"

"The Reno of Europe" Rufus corrected her, "And he was talking about it being a place for quickie divorces," Rufus reminded her, "not quickie marriages…though I guess if you really wanted one..."

"Exactly." Jiya said triumphantly. "If it was good for one thing, it was probably good for the other thing too."

"But I was there." Rufus reminded her, "I mean…granted they went off by themselves for a couple of hours, but they had just gotten engaged...what would you have done? Besides…they wouldn't have gotten married without telling me." Rufus looked into the doubtful faces of Jiya and Bam Bam and found that his confidence was beginning to slip. "No," Rufus maintained, "you are not dragging me down to your level of crazy. No…no…they would have told me."

"Would've told you what?" Wyatt's voice called from behind him. Rufus turned abruptly to see Wyatt and Lucy standing arm and arm, grinning at their friends innocently as the bar tender took their empty champagne glasses from them.

"Um…um…" Rufus stammered as he looked to Jiya and Bam Bam for help. Bam Bam merely shrugged at him and took a drink of his beer, but Jiya was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it all, "Oh, you know…that you two have been married since Paris, but haven't told anyone."

Lucy and Wyatt stared back at her stunned, "Wha…what?" Lucy asked as she flushed as she exchanged a nervous look with Wyatt, "We…don't….um…how…what?"

"I'm kidding." Jiya said with a satisfied smirk, grabbing Lucy's hand in an attempt to change the subject, "Where did you get this ring, Wyatt?" she asked smoothly as she admired the piece of jewelry. "I thought you were going to use the old one?"

Wyatt cleared his throat awkwardly, "I…I did." he said with a smirk, "We just…um…had it modified, a bit."

"I'll say." Jiya said with a low whistle. The ring was indeed, the same one he had been carrying since the other timeline; the ring that looked as though it were made for Lucy. Instead of just diamonds, however, the ring had been upgraded; the diamond in the middle was now flanked on both sides by two glistening emeralds. "That is so beautiful…and completely unique… why emeralds?"

Lucy flushed and shrugged, "Oh you know…it…um…symbolizes enduring love and that kind of thing." She cleared her throat uncomfortably as she nudged Wyatt, "Right, sweetheart?"

"That's right, baby doll." Wyatt said with a meaningful nod as he took the refilled champagne flutes from the bartender. "We…um…have to go make a few rounds...don't forget, Rufus…you've got to give a toast."

"Yeah." Rufus nodded as he patted his chest coat pocket, "I've got it all written out here."

Wyatt nodded to him and then led Lucy away again as Jiya scoffed and pulled out her phone, "Enduring love, my ass." she muttered as she began typing away. Rufus gaped as her as her eyes darted back and forth over the small screen until finally, she let out a triumphant laugh and slapped Rufus on the back, "Aha! Listen to this," she began reading, "The 90thanniversary is denoted by the use of diamonds and emeralds."

"Good sleuthing, Jiya." Bam Bam said with a wink. "I'm convinced."

"I'm not." Rufus said as he took her phone from her and read it himself, "Okay that makes sense…they got engaged 90 years ago, TODAY, Jiya. It is kind of their 90-year anniversary." Rufus continued reading, "What do you know? Emeralds are also the birthstone for May…this is May. Oh, and look at that, emeralds do stand for enduring love, just like Lucy said." he spat out as he tossed her phone back to her. "You two need to quit letting your imaginations run wild."

"It's not imagination if you've got very good reason to believe it." Jiya spat back at him. "Those two are totally married."

"We are literally at their wedding, Jiya…of course they're married." Rufus argued.

"No…I mean…they've been married." Jiya maintained as Bam Bam nodded in agreement, "Wyatt referring to Lucy as his wife? This wedding is for us? The emeralds? The secret trip? And when we asked them about it just now, they both looked like a deer caught in headlights."

"That's because they think you're crazy." Rufus argued…but as he watched Wyatt lead Lucy over to the dance floor, he couldn't help but wonder…what if. He watched as Wyatt whispered in Lucy's ear causing her to laugh brightly and whisper something back to him. Not wholly unusual for a couple of lovebirds, but Rufus suddenly realized they had only started doing that since the trip to Paris. Yes, they had been a couple before…but as much as he hated to admit it, Jiya was right…there was something different about Wyatt and Lucy. The whispered conversations, the knowing looks, the way they would smile as if they knew something everybody else didn't….

No. No. It was crazy. There was no way they could have pulled that off without him knowing, right? The judges in Paris might have been easily swayed for divorces in the 1920s….it didn't mean they were just as easily swayed for marriages. Those kinds of things required time…and paperwork. No, Rufus was convinced. It didn't happen. Bam Bam and Jiya just had overactive imaginations.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Probably not.

Notes:

This is it! You've made it to the absolute end.

Again, let me say how much I enjoyed writing this story. The epilogue, I know, turned out to be a beast, but I wanted it to feel more like a continuation rather than just a quick little blurb at the end of this massive piece of fiction. I wanted to bring it back full circle and i hope that you enjoyed the ride.

Thank you again and again for all the love you have shown this story and for sticking with it for so long.

A few things: Josephine Baker actually did wear a girdle made up of artificial bananas...that was not some kind of inside joke.

Here's a link to the video of her banana dance:

videos/search?q=Josephine+Baker+bananas&view=detail&mid=391C0B08F859BA734BF5391C0B08F859BA734BF5&FORM=VIRE

The other is just a link to the song Wyatt and Lucy dance to. I couldn't find a period appropriate version, but this one has a french accordion in it and so I thought it was better than nothing for those of you who are curious.

videos/search?q=I+dream+of+Jeannie+with+the+Light+Brown+hair&&view=detail&mid=D0EE7302D06956126CA0D0EE7302D06956126CA0&&FORM=VRDGAR

Thanks again for all the love you've shown this story. It would never have been what it became without you.