Inside the bunker's room there were books neatly stacked against the wall and a nightstand next to a small chair. A cot was pushed up on the wall just like everyone else's, but this one seemed untouched, like no one had slept in it at all. A lone, empty bottle of whiskey sat on the nightstand along with a number of glasses, which is where Lucy set the full bottle of vodka. When she looked back at Flynn he was leaning against the door with his arms crossed. For the first time she truly got a good look at him. Sure she'd been on missions with him for a while, they'd talked, but never once did Lucy get a clear look of him.
An ashen looked bestowed his face, sad but angry eyes filling staring curiously at her. Under them were bags identical to her own. Now the bed made sense. However, as Flynn looked at her, the all too familiar look of pain in his eyes seemed to fade away into the distance, replaced by a sense of peace and gentleness. Before Lucy knew it he had closed the distance between them.
The historian had to crane her neck to look into his looming gaze, head tilted down to meet her. Flynn stuck his tongue out, lightly brushing against his lips in unconscious motion.
Neither said anything; not verbally, at the very least. For a very long time the pair just stood and allowed their eyes to trace each other's every scar, every quirk and detail they might have missed before. Eventually though, they knew it had to be broken.
"Lucy." he said softly. She found herself enjoying his impossibly tall composure. All the sudden it seemed like the perfect height. Her petite arms wrapped around Flynn, moulding into his muscles and figure as though it was meant to be. Flynn exhaled and Lucy could feel him relax, squeezing her gently. His chin rested on the top of her black locks.
Flynn could smell the faint texture of strawberry in her hair, the same, he recalled, that Amy probably used. With a hint of sadness, Flynn sighed through his nose and closed his eyes.
They both needed it. A warm place, a safe place. Both knew it's all they wanted, and who better than each other to use do that?
Lucy pulled away a bit. She rested a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. Flynn smiled a little. Not a sad smile, not the smug one that he usually gave; this was a genuine smile. This was Garcia, not Flynn, Lucy noted.
Without even a word, Flynn took Lucy by the hand and dragged her over to the seat, sitting. She sat on his lap, resting her head on his chest while he poured each a glass of vodka.
"I miss her." Lucy muttered. "And I miss not knowing about...mother," she hissed. Her hand balled up in Flynn's shirt and he held her tightly.
"Iris would've loved you," Flynn smiled at her memory. Lucy felt as his heart pounded heavily against his suddenly tensed chest. He smiled brightly at a memory. "Your bravery most of all. You know, she was afraid there were monsters in her closet, so I got a tiny little water gun and..."
Lucy saw the look of pain flicker across his features as his face fell. She gulped, almost afraid to ask. "Was that...?"
Garcia flinched at the question but didn't push her away. In fact, he only seemed to cling to Lucy more. She took this as a yes and ran a hand through his hair to show her sympathy. Flynn looked at her gratefully.
The rest of the night was spent emptying the bottle of vodka as each spilled their guts out to one another. Eventually Lucy had fallen asleep. Of course Flynn had given her the bed, taking the chair for himself.
At about 6:30 he got some coffee for the both of them. As Lucy sat and sipped hers, her eyes flickered across the room to the smiling man. In the end she shifted awkwardly.
"I am going to remove myself," she informed as she stood. "From your...personal space."
Flynn nodded and gazed down at the floor, eyes flickering up to hers as she stumbled out of the room. He grinned at her adorable smile while she giggled, door clicking shut behind her.
It had been a few weeks since the night spent in Flynn's room. He and her had become close, that much was obvious to anyone paying attention. They had been sticking to one another's sides as much as they possibly could without it seeming too obvious. Currently everyone was back in 2018, spread throughout the entirety of the bunker.
Lucy and Flynn sat down in front of the tv, watching a black and white movie different from the one they had watched a few weeks prior. It was Flynn's pick. They had celebratory beers, laughing cheerfully.
Life seemed right at that moment. The wounded hearts of both Flynn and Lucy were mended when they were with each other. He smiled down at her lying on his shoulder. Something strange erupted in his gut everytime her eyes connected with his, ever since Chicago when Houdini had chosen her as his assistant.
But not like this. That night a few weeks ago had sent it skyrocketing. For the longest time Flynn excused it as a common need for someone to understand him and his pain, but when it didn't go away that night, when it got stronger, Flynn was certain that it was something else. Something he could never admit.
Lucy felt herself become a bit happier around Flynn, almost carefree. Blood would rush in her ears whenever he smiled at her like she was the only one in the room, and her heart would pound heavily against her chest everytime his eyes would glance in her direction. It seemed odd, the way it all happened. There was always something between Flynn and herself, but until he had hummed that tune back in the car, none of it had made sense. It did now. Everything did.
In the beginning she refused to admit to herself that Garcia Flynn made her heart flutter. That she depended on him, that she would crash and burn without his gentle touch or caring eyes. No, that was Wyatt, the soldier who never betrayed her. But Wyatt did betray her. And with Wyatt, Lucy realised, she had never felt those butterflies in her stomach as he entered the room, or the intoxicating dizziness she got whenever he looked at her. It was all intimacy, fake love that was only attracted to parts other than the love she got with Flynn.
Lucy nearly shot out of her chair as she went over her thoughts once more. Love? Where the hell did that come from?
The man she was lying against noticed her sudden jerk. Flynn narrowed his eyes, heart pounding with concern.
"Lucy?" he asked, accent thicker with her worry.
She looked up at him, gulping at the face that stared back at her. His lips seemed to real, so vibrant in the lighting of the flickering picture before them. All she had to do was-
Lucy cut herself short by smiling up at him in reassurance. She could feel the tense muscles in his body relax, and a mock smile flitted back at him.
Her face was pale and perfect in the shade of the bunker's living room. The television illuminated her complexion, especially against her lushes red lips. Flynn's heart skipped a beat, stomach twisting uncomfortablely. Maybe he should tell her. Maybe she would feel the same way. Maybe if he just leaned down a little bit, just enough to-
"Hey guys, what're you watching?" Rufus called out. Lucy and Flynn gasped slightly as they realised how long they had been staring at each other, how Flynn's hand had unconsciously curled into her's with a tenderness. They jumped back, facing the tv stiffly. Neither took notice to Rufus eyeing them suspiciously while he sat down next in the couch next to them.
Hours had passed since the movie had finished. Dinner had been served, Lucy and Flynn never once looking at each other, adding to an awkward silence. It didn't go unnoticed the way they avoided one another, how they sat on the opposite ends of the table. Afterwards everyone had went their seperate ways, whispering under their breath about what could've happened.
That didn't go unnoticed by Lucy or Flynn.
The door clicked shut behind Garcia and he leaned on it, running a hand through his hair. Everything seemed off. As soon as Lucy had left the bitter feeling of numbness and anger boiled over him again. Why was it so difficult without her?
Lucy stood in front of her bedroom door, listening to the constant click of Jiya's keyboard. An image of Flynn smiling down at her flashed through her brain. Even if it was only a few minutes before, the memory seemed distant, like it happened years ago. The hole in her chest swelled painfully, bringing that sense of crashing and burning. Despite the overwhelming urge to turn heel and run to him, to leap into Flynn's arms and kiss him, she couldn't find the power to do it. He didn't feel the same. He loved his wife still, more than anything from what it seemed. So Lucy breathed in deeply, ignoring the ache in her deepened wound and filed inside to her bed.
Inside his room, Flynn felt empty. Meaningless. He closed his eyes, imagining the face of his late wife. Her smile was vibrant and happy. She laughed, but there was no sound. And as Flynn took more notice, the face before him wasn't Lorena. Her face was blurry and out of focus, like faded memory. But she wasn't just a memory, she couldn't be just a memory. Panic arose in Flynn's chest. But he kept his eyes closed.
For some odd reason, the blurred face still made him calm, despite not being Lorena or Iris. At the last moment Flynn opened his eyes. It seemed wrong to just sit there, aching and hurting. He knew it wasn't right. Instead he took a long drink out of the whiskey bottle on his nightstand; before long he had fallen asleep.
"What's the date?" Wyatt asked as everyone ran into the makeshift controls room. Christopher looked up at him from the computer.
"April 10th, 1912."
Flynn laughed snidely from across the room, nodding. Lucy, although not looking at him, was smiling an unamused smile as well.
"What?" Rufus asked. "What's it mean?"
Flynn looked up. "It means," he said,"we know who they're going after."
Everyone furrowed their brows and looked to Lucy, who was already pacing towards the ship.
"On April 10, 1912, the Titanic sets sail with thousands of people on board. Rittenhouse must be trying to stop it from ever going out by killing the captain, Edward Smith."
Wyatt raised an eyebrow, making a confused noise. Rufus was climbing aboard, followed by Flynn.
"Isn't that a good thing? I mean, they all die, right? They could be saved." He climbed into the ship, however.
Flynn snorted in amusement, causing Lucy to smile a little. He didn't seem to notice.
"No, Wyatt, that is not a good thing," he replied, buckling himself in. "If Rittenhouse stops the Titanic from sinking and all those people survive-"
"Then who knows what could happen to the future," Lucy finished for him. They stared into each other's eyes awkwardly for a moment before pulling away to different directions.
Rufus eyed them, his figure on the last switch. He turned around, mouthing the word awkward.
When the ship landed and the four found clothes, they went straight to the port. It was a long walk over. A very awkward silence hung over the group throughout the time.
"Any plan as to how to find this guy?" Wyatt asked suddenly. The break in the silence was strange and left a buzz in the air.
"Smith is supposed to be here any minute now, from what I remember," Lucy replies smoothly. "He should be wearing a bowler hat and a long trench coat, with a scruffy white beard."
"Wait, really? I thought they only looked like that in the movies." Rufus teased, grinning. Flynn rolled her eyes, heart swelling as Lucy smiled.
"There!" Wyatt yelled, pointing to a man described just as Lucy said. The shout pulled Flynn out of his thoughts.
Lucy sighed, urging herself to go on, telling herself everything was fine. But she couldn't ignore the fact that Flynn was right behind her, probably having forgotten about the entire scenario in the long run, confused why she was acting to strangely around him. But she continued walking with that mock jump in her walk.
"Captain Smith!" Wyatt called, rushing over. The white bearded man stopped and raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"What is it?" he asked, seemingly uninterested. Wyatt attempted the best face of confusion he could.
"Don't you remember? Ford here and I were assigned to keep you safe until she sets sail."
The Captain looked taken aback for a moment, completely confused for a moment. He looked at Rufus and Lucy with a suspicious brow. Lucy stepped forward and smiled, curtseying.
"This is my wife, Rose," Wyatt confirmed. "And Luke here is my...slave."
Flynn felt a longing to hold Lucy tight to him as soon as Wyatt had said 'wife'. The pain evident on her face broke his heart. Her heart was shattered, broken at the seams. His was cold, in need of warmth, a thawing point. Flynn couldn't help but stare at her, a frown permanently etched into his expression.
"Come along, then," Edward said, walking onboard the Titanic.
Lucy leaned into the rest of them to whisper. "There's going to be a mishap going on for the rest of the day, causing people to move down in rank."
"We should split up. I'll go with Wyatt, you two stay together." Rufus said, pointing to Flynn and Lucy. "We'll follow Smith and-"
"Woah now, you think this is a good idea?" Wyatt whispered hurriedly, stopping in front of all of them. "You trust him with her?"
Rufus scoffed and shuffled a bit. "Absolutely not." He looked at Flynn, who was eyeing him suspiciously. "But I don't think Flynn would ever intentionally hurt Lucy. And I also think it would look better if the guards were actually guarding and not just following."
Wyatt stared at him for a few moments, then switched his gaze over to Flynn. His blue eyes burned into the other man's eyes, unfazed by his towering height.
"You hurt her...you die. Got that?"
Flynn huffed a laugh through his nose and gave a fake salute, much to Lucy's amusement. "Yes, sir! She if your wife after all."
Him and Wyatt watched each other for a long while, up until Rufus grabbed Wyatt by the arm and dragged him away.
"Okay! We'll just see you guys later. Find the sleeper, will you?" Flynn and Lucy ended up alone in the hall, standing in an uncomfortable silence.
Almost every cell in his body told Flynn to hold her in his arms, to smell the sweet scent of strawberries in her hair, to feel and hear and see every little detail that he absolutely adores, the small things that make him love-
Flynn inhaled deeply, walking past her and manoeuvring through the winding halls. She was calling his name, nearly hissing it through her teeth to get his attention, when at last he stopped and turned around.
"What, Lucy?" he grumbled, accent deep and husky. She stared at him, pent up anger and hurt almost vibrating off of her petite form.
"In about one minute David Blair will be storming down this hallway to get into that closet-" she pointed directly behind where Flynn was standing "-to take a key. And you just got us straight into the middle of it!"
Flynn's blood rushed in his ears and a grin slip across his face. This wasn't a laughing matter. In all honesty, it was probably the one time he should be keeping his usual composure. But he couldn't help it. Lucy's beautiful features were pulled into a strong glare, her fists balled up by her sides. She looked like she was about to punch him.
"What are you going to do? Hit me?"
Lucy felt like her heart was about to explode, not only from anger, but because of the cheeky grin on Flynn's face. The wound began to feel whole again, the ache in her soul subsiding. Her eyes once against traced the figure of his lips, the way they curved upwards and how his tongue stuck out to lick them lightly. Her stomach twisted a bit.
Everything seemed to stop as she just gazed up at him. Flynn could see her tracing his lips with her eyes, so he couldn't help but let his eyes flicker down to her's. The numbness stayed, however, for h knew it wouldn't last for long.
And then they heard it. The footsteps, stepping down the hall quickly. Lucy felt panic arise in her throat. There wasn't any way to close the distance between the two of them, to make room for the door to open.
She gulped, and in a rush of pure, highly intoxicating adrenaline, gripped onto Flynn's lapels and pulled him against her body.
Garcia didn't have time enough to react. In the split second he had time to think, all he felt was Lucy hugging tightly into his chest, yet again a perfect mould. His body tensed, as well as her's, but they soon found that the way they melted into each other felt natural, real. Flynn leaned down just and Lucy met him halfway, just as desperate for this moment as he was.
Garcia's hands slid gently down her sides, pulling her body closer to him. She smiled against his rough lips, running her hands up over his chest to have her fingers tangle through his hair. Flynn leaned further into it, placing one hand on the wall to corner her in. She bit at his bottom lip for access to which he allowed, kissing roughly until neither could breathe any longer. Lucy continued to leave ghosts of kisses along Flynn's, long after Blair had walked past the two, scoffing at best and into the storage area.
Flynn could feel how his heart pounded heatedly against his chest, how his blood boiled and rushed through his ears. But most importantly he noticed the way he felt whole, how the numbness of loss, anger, regret,guilt, sadness, all of it seemed to melt away into the safety of Lucy's arms. This was all he needed. It was all she needed too, a safe place, someone to hold and care for, not someone to fuel the pent up feelings with.
Lucy looked up into Flynn's eyes, smiling as her chest rose and fell erratically. And before she knew it, Garcia had her crushed against his chest, arms wrapped around her and his warm breath in her hair. Lucy felt the world tilt back to the way she'd always needed it to be.
They felt safe, standing there in each other's arms. Even if they were vulnerable, they weren't exactly the most stable people in the first place. It was good here.
And then it hit her. Her heart jump started and Lucy kicked into action, pulling away but never letting go of Garcia Flynn.
"Lucy, what's wrong?"
She looks at him with wide, panicked eyes. "They aren't after Smith, they're after-"
A loud, sudden bang comes from in the room directly behind Garcia. He draws his weapon on instinct, something Lucy now finds a lot more comforting, and kicks open the door. He winks at her before entering the small room to find David Blair, dead on the floor. Lucy stares in horror, eyes darting up to Flynn; who has his pistol raised at her forehead. She flinches as the click of a loaded gun snaps behind her.
"Step away from the keys and she lives," said a fairly unfamiliar voice. Lucy looks to Flynn desperately, who only slightly falters at her plead.
"Trust me," he said. His soothing accent rolls slickly off his tongue, which darts menacingly over his lips as he glares at her attacker. Lucy raises her hands to her head, eyes closing tightly and body going completely rigid. She's killed a man. She's seen things no one could ever imagine! She could handle this!
The gun's barrel pushed up against the back of her skull, cold and ready to release. Lucy was held back the urge to run, scream, hide, and instead trusted her life in the hands of Garcia Flynn. That was the one thing that she grasped on to, that he would save her, that everything would be alright. The pistol was forced harder unto her skull.
She could not handle this.
Flynn kept his gaze far from Lucy so he wouldn't lose control. Instead he stayed firm, at ready to blow the Rittenhouse agent to ruin at any given moment. Garcia sighed and tightened his finger around the trigger. And then he moved, took one step toward Lucy, pushing her out of the way and taking a scrape to the arm with minimal damage, but pulling the trigger and killing the agent any way.
Before he could do anything else he found Lucy cupping his face gently between her palms, kissing him gently and passionately. It was her kisses that were full of emotion. The last had been a lust, a wanting and a need for him to hold her, to show that each of them cared more than they would've been able to say. This time was different.
The kiss was packed with worry, fear, and care for each other. It showed her trust for him, despite everything they'd been through. Flynn smiled as they rested their foreheads together and she hugged around him again.
"I think I love you," she muttered into his chest. Flynn sighed, content with that.
"Well that's perfect now isn't it, Lucy?" He smiled and smelled her strawberry hair. "Because I'm sure I love you."
Lucy smiled large enough to cause his heart to rupture and he returned it. Flynn grabbed the keys from behind him and dangled them in the air.
"Let's finish this, shall we?"
After locking the bodies in the closet, taking the keys as well as debriefing Wyatt and Rufus, the 'team' went back to the life boat. Flynn and Lucy stuck to each other's sides, holding hands behind their back