You're spoiling me now Day! In all seriousness, thanks for this tag as well @darknightfrombeyond. Some of these are finished, some are from the last published chapters of the fic and the last one is a WIP from a completely different fandom that I'm not even sure I'll ever publish (though I'm leaning towards saying screw it and just doing it anyway).
Rule: Share the first line and the last line written for your fics. However many you want to share.
Carousel of Kings
First line: Lucy jolts awake, a whispery voice calling her name.
Last Line: She places the pitcher of wine on the table and follows her master out the front door.
Immortally Yours
First Line: Returning home as a conquering war hero never gets old.
Last Line: They are bound for eternity, in this life and the next.
Salem's Lot (Unfinished)
First Line: Being a vampire in Salem has never been easy for Lucy.
Last Line (published): Amy might need to get in line to kill Flynn if he keeps this up.
Untitled (Mandalorian/Book of Boba Fett/Star Wars fic featuring my first OC that's a major character).
First Line: You should have walked out of that garage the second you spotted him, but that would have drawn even more attention to yourself.
Last Line (currently written): “No…but considering that you dated that sleemo back there, I-”
Tagging @magnificentcowboypeanutpaper @ununpredictableme @lostworldminethy @nevada-b-1780 @battleshipgarcy @writtenwolves @shydragonrider @female-fogbank @katechaucer and anyone else who wants to do this!
Thank you for the tag @darknightfrombeyond! I truly want to thank you for including me, especially because I'm excited about this new chapter I'm in the middle of finishing.
Rules: Post the last line you wrote (from any wip) and tag the same number of people as there are words.
Salem's Lot Chapter 44 - Untitled as of now
“Maybe it’s some weird recessive gene that only the two of them possess."
Tagging @magnificentcowboypeanutpaper @ununpredictableme @battleshipgarcy @nevada-b-1780 @writtenwolves @shydragonrider @female-fogbank @lostworldminethy @katechaucer (can't think of anyone else right now, but if you weren't tagged and want to jump in feel free).
“Please don’t do this.” Garcy from the recent print list? If you’re so inclined? ;)
Hello Nonny! First, I want to thank you for this prompt. Secondly, I want to apologize for how long it took me to fill it. Because it took me forever to write it, I wrote a lot. I hope it's angsty enough and I hope you like it.
Also sharing it from AO3 in the post below.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Garcy graduate student (or just graduated college) modern meet cute, what's your head canon? Also, love the new blog look!
Thanks for the ask my dear friend! 💐
Glad you like the new blog look. I get bored and need to change it up periodically. Since I lost my Viking Queen/badass Shieldmaiden this season, I felt I needed to honor her. R.I.P Lagertha.
Now, onto the good stuff. I could probably come up with a dozen head canons for this.
I imagine that Flynn has noticed Lucy, either in class or at the library, but doesn't dare approach such a goddess. He thinks there's no way someone like her would be even remotely interested in him.
As they leave campus for the night, some punk tries to mug her and/or steal her purse. Regardless of his apprehension, he springs into action, tackling the guy and beating the crap out of him/holding him in place until the police arrive.
Lucy is understandably upset, but can't seem to take her eyes off of the tall, dark and handsome stranger who saved her. She insists she buy him a coffee/drink to say thank you.
He is internally freaking out, but agrees to go get a drink with her. They start talking and find they have a ton in common. The hours fly by and when they finally look away from each other, they notice they're the last ones there.
He insists he's walking her home that night, and since Lucy doesn't want the night to end, she gleefully accepts. At her front door, he gets up the courage to ask for her number. She enters her number in his phone, then sends herself a text from it. As she hands it back to him, she leans in and gives him a kiss on the cheek, thanking her hero once again.
The kiss floors him completely, and he can't seem to wipe the Cheshire cat grin from his face. He chickens out about kissing her more passionately, but confirms he'll text/call her.
He practically skips all the way home, beaming like a neon light in Times Square. He sends her a text that he made it home without further incident, more as a joke than anything else, and they wind up talking for the rest of the night.
As the sun begins to rise, he asks her to dinner the following night. He absolutely kisses the living daylights out of her when he takes her home and they become inseparable after that first date.
Manip by the fabulously talented @female-fogbank. (Sorry about that. I thought it was @x-voyevoda ). Please forgive me! You're both fantastically talented with these things.
College!au, meet messy and "I might be crazy, but did you just say that out loud?" ( au: 8, trope: 4, prompt: 14). My exams are about to start, so some college humor is welcome if you have time 😊
Thanks for the prompt. This screamed Lucy to me! And good luck on your exams.
Lucy is stressing more than she normally does right now. Her finals linger on the horizon, causing her stress level to become frankly unmanageable. To make matters even worse, she hasn’t been able to concentrate on her study notes for more than twenty minutes now. She’s reread the same page four times in a row, yet her mind is elsewhere. Specifically, it doesn’t want to stop fantasizing about the tall, dark and handsome classmate of hers sitting in the desk caddy-corner from hers. They’ve never met, officially anyway, but she knows they have a few of the same classes. Thankfully, he generally sits towards the back of the class, because heavens knows she’d never pay attention if he sat in front of her.
She doesn’t have that luxury in the library, however. She also does not want to attract attention to herself at the moment. She’s in leggings and her Stanford sweatshirt, her hair is in a messy bun, and there is not a lick of makeup on her face, save for the Chapstick currently gracing her lips.
She decides she needs to quit this charade and grab something to eat. Perhaps once she refuels, she can make another go at studying. So, she collects her things and heads out of the library. She makes her way to a local café down the street. It’s not very crowded at this hour, but she can at least get a decent cup of coffee and a sandwich there.
After devouring her turkey sandwich and a cup of Joe, Lucy makes considerable headway with her studying at the café table. When she glances back up at the clock on the wall, an entire hour has passed. She decides to head back to the library, since the café will be closing shortly, but not before ordering another cup of coffee to go.
She leaves the café and opts to cut through the park to get back to the library. She turns the corner and plows head on into another person. Her coffee flies through the air, then collides with the immovable object of the tall, handsome stranger standing before her. Of all the people.
“Whoa there!” he yells out, as he jumps back slightly after being doused in hot coffee.
“I’m-I’m so sorry,” she stammers.
She frantically digs through her purse in search of tissues or napkins and finds a few extra napkins from the café. She nervously wipes the front of his jacket, trying desperately to remove as much of the coffee as possible.
“It was an accident. I’ll live,” he informs her, as he takes hold of her hands.
Lucy pulls back in shame, her face beet red with embarrassment.
“I can’t believe you spilled coffee all over the hot guy from your history class!”
Oh, good grief. Could this get any worse or more embarrassing? She just said that out loud! Way to go, Lucy!
“Okay, maybe I’m crazy, but did I just hear you say that out loud?” he asked in amazement.
Crap. He heard her.
“Uh, yes-yes you did. And…I’m going to go play in traffic now,” she responds, as she turns to run away.
She doesn’t get far, because he reaches out with those long limbs of his and grabs her wrist.
“Hey, wait! Can I buy you another coffee?” he asks.
She turns back around to him and raises her eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t I be the one buying you one? After all, I spilled my last one all over you,” she chuckles, as she nervously bites her bottom lip.
“Can you promise not to spill the next one all over me?”
He’s smiling as he says it, which kills any embarrassment left inside her.
“I can promise to try. I’m very klutzy,” she answers, as she starts to blush.
“Good enough for me. I’m Garcia. Garcia Flynn,” he advises, as he extends his hand for her to shake.
“Lucy. Lucy Preston. Coffee spiller extraordinaire,” she replies, as she shakes his hand.
“Shall we?” he asks, as he waves his arm towards the café.
She nods her head and they walk together back towards the café.
Maybe she should blurt embarrassing feelings out loud more often, because this is shaping up to be a very interesting night.
AU 4 (Mafia AU), Trope 7 (Childhood friends) Prompt 6 (What is that?)
Thanks for this prompt! I went a little nuts, but in my defense, you know I love me some Arya, Gendry and Gendrya.
Just like her siblings, Arya Stark was born into “the Family.” But, unlike the rest of her brothers and her sister, she embraced it. Sure, Sansa loved being the typical “Mafia Princess,” but she never actively wanted to participate in the family business. Arya did though, and endeavored to learn as much as she could, even if she was constantly told she was too young or that girls didn’t “work” for the family.
Her father must have recognized something in her however, since he begrudgingly permitted her enrollment in a weapons class at the shooting range, under the guise of “dancing lessons.” Arya reveled in the experience, and quickly mastered the proper techniques and safe handling of a pistol and shotgun.
The hand-to-hand combat training was another story entirely. She paid attention and practiced as much as she could, but her small stature and young age proved to be an obstacle. It frustrated her to no end that the boys refused to hit or attack her in class, because she was a girl. She quit the class, but became more determined than ever and set a plan into motion.
She reenrolled in the class at the beginning of the year, but not as Arya Stark. Instead, she registered as Ary, cut her hair really short and wore boys’ clothing. She was still young enough that most of the boys didn’t even notice she was different than they were; that is, with the exception of one particular boy that had befriended her. His name was Gendry. He was older than she was, but not old enough to be in the next class’ yet and seemed to actively seek her out during sparring sessions. He encouraged her and helped her hone her skills, especially when it came to being able to fend off an attacker larger than oneself. They quickly became fast friends.
One night, after class, they snuck into the gym next door; the one they used to train some of the older boys.
“What are we doing in here, Ary? We’re going to get caught,” Gendry complained.
“I wanted to see what they had in here. I need to learn and master every single weapon if I’m going to be an enforcer someday,” she answered.
Gendry snickered at her and she whacked his arm extra hard.
“Ow! For someone so little, you hurt.”
“I’m not that little!” she yelled, as she opened up the cabinet the school kept the weapons in.
They both stood there and stared at the array of weaponry. Most of the items were the same they had in their own class, but a few were foreign to their eyes.
“What is that?” Arya asked, as she picked up a long piece of wire with handles on the ends.
“It’s a garrote. And, you are not going to practice on me with that thing girl!” Gendry exclaimed.
Arya was so enamored with the garrote, it took her brain a moment for her to process the fact he had just referred to her as a girl.
“I’m not a girl.”
“Yeah, okay,” Gendry laughed. “And, my father is the Don of the Five Families.”
Arya was frozen in terror. Did he truly know her secret?
“How-how did you know?” she gasped.
“I didn’t, but you just confirmed my suspicion for me,” he chuckled.
Arya cracked the garrote handle with a viper-like proficiency against his hand.
“Ow!”
“You deserved it. Sometimes, I really hate you,” Arya grumbled.
“But, most times you like me?” Gendry asked hesitantly.
Blue, here’s your Garcy Secret Santa fic! Hope you have a happy holiday and I hope you like your fic present. 🎁
July 3, 1863, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Leaving Flynn behind is the last thing Lucy wants to do, but neither he, nor Wyatt, give her much choice in the matter. Two Rittenhouse operatives are chasing them, shooting wildly in their general direction, as they sprint towards the Lifeboat’s hidden location. They’re able to successfully prevent and kill the first Rittenhouse sleeper, but they still have two more to deal with, not to mention the Confederate Army breathing down their neck.
They decide to split up to find the sleeper, with Lucy and Wyatt heading over to the Confederate side and Flynn and Jiya the Union. Normally, she would partner with Flynn, but given the circumstances of how Confederates feel about black and brown folk, they decide it’s best for Jiya to steer clear of them. Since Flynn isn’t able to find a Confederate uniform large enough for him, Wyatt gets to play rebel this time. It’s not an ideal situation, but when is it ever when it involves Rittenhouse?
After figuring out that Rittenhouse is planning to assassinate Major General George Meade, Lucy and Wyatt sneak their way back towards the Union lines. Wyatt steals the uniform of a dead Union solider and they creep back into the fray, searching through the billowing smoke for their teammates.
When they finally make their way towards Cemetery Ridge, they stumble upon a shocking site. As if the guns and cannons flying in every direction weren’t bad enough, she spots Flynn in the middle of the melee fighting with the Union soldiers. Her breath catches in horror, but reality sets in fast as a bullet whizzes past her ear. Lucy scans the area in search of Jiya, but can’t seem to find a trace of her.
It terrifies her to even think of something happening to him in general, but especially since she still hasn’t told him how she feels. She had finally worked up enough courage to do it, when the Mothership jumped to Gettysburg.
Her eyes flash back to Flynn, just in time to see the soldier next to him take a bullet to the leg and crumble to the ground. To her surprise, he drops down as well and pulls the wounded soldier back from the front line. It’s only then that she realizes what she’s just witnessed. Flynn wouldn’t have done that for any random solider. It was either someone vital to the battle, which she doubts since they were fighting in the vanguard, or it was…
Oh, no. What was Jiya thinking?
Wyatt yanks her wrist and they weave through the chaos until they finally come across their teammates. Flynn is compressing Jiya’s leg wound and it doesn’t look good. He lifts Jiya into his arms and begins to rush in the direction of the Lifeboat.
“We have to get her back to the present. There’s nothing they can do for her here and I’ll be damned if I let them amputate,” he spits with venom.
She loves that Flynn cares enough about Jiya to have such a visceral reaction. If it had been Flynn that was injured, Lucy knows she wouldn’t have been as calm. It must be serious if he’s acting this way, so she knows they need to get a move on.
Lucy tries her best to keep up with them, as Wyatt guards their backs. It’s during this retreat that the remaining Rittenhouse goons rain down a barrage of bullets upon them. They take cover behind a tree and Flynn sets Jiya down on the ground in order to return fire. Lucy kneels next to Jiya, rips a scrap of cloth from her dress and presses it onto the wound. Flynn covers Wyatt’s retreat to the tree, then they both return fire from their defensive positions on either side.
Suddenly, a group of Confederate soldiers join the Rittenhouse operatives. They are greatly outnumbered now and don’t have the proper defensive position or enough ammunition to stave off the assault.
“Get the girls to the Lifeboat!” Flynn shouts at Wyatt.
Wyatt nods, then leans down towards Jiya.
“Can you walk if Lucy and I help you?”
“I can make it,” Jiya declares stubbornly.
Lucy and Wyatt lift Jiya to her feet and begin the trek to the Lifeboat, as Flynn continues to fire from behind the tree. If she would’ve known what Flynn would do next, Lucy would have found some way to stop him. She thought he was only covering their retreat and would catch up shortly; and he did once or twice. The second time he did though, he whispered something to Wyatt that Lucy was unable to hear.
Once they get Jiya inside the Lifeboat, Wyatt orders Lucy aboard. She only obeys the order once he confirms Flynn is right behind them. As soon as she’s inside as well, he orders Jiya to jump.
“No, Flynn is still out there!” Lucy cries.
“He told me to get you two out of here and come back for him. Lucy, we need to leave now. Jiya has already lost too much blood.”
He slams the button to close the hatch door. Lucy looks to Jiya to back her up, but Jiya seems to be in her own world.
“Lucy, if Jiya loses any more blood, we could be stranded here. Permanently,” Wyatt whispers.
“We can’t just leave him here all alone. I’ll stay behind with him,” she suggests, as she begins to unbuckle her seatbelt.
It’s too late. Jiya has already initiated the jump sequence.
It takes four hours for the Lifeboat to recharge and even longer for Jiya to be even remotely ready to pilot again. Lucy paces the bunker, stares at the clock, taps her fingernails on the kitchen table; anything to keep her busy while they wait. Her brain can’t stop conjuring horrific scenarios of what could happen to Flynn, which is seriously unhelpful at the moment. If anything happens to him, she’ll never forgive herself.
Cemetery Ridge was the center of the Union line, the site of the infamous Pickett’s charge, where twelve thousand, five hundred members of the Confederate infantry commenced an assault. Later, it will be referred to as the “High-Water Mark of the Confederacy,” since the South never fully recovered militarily or psychologically from the battle’s aftermath. This, is where they have left Garcia Flynn to fend for himself.
By the time they climb back into the Lifeboat, she’s chewed her nails down to nubs. She anxiously awaits the jump, repeating over and over again in her head that he will be just fine. They will land and find Flynn and jump right home. Easy peasy.
Jiya has to stay with the Lifeboat, her ankle injury impairing her ability to walk, let alone run. That leaves just Lucy and Wyatt to wander the battlefield in search of Flynn. Night has fallen now, the dead littering the battlefield and the wounded still being brought in. They also have no idea if Flynn took care of the Rittenhouse sleepers or not, so they also need to confirm the mission has been completed.
They decide to split up to cover more ground. Lucy flits between the medical tents, desperately searching for Flynn under the guise of a wife looking for her husband. Wyatt is checking with the soldiers and combing through the piles of bodies on the battlefield. She’s grateful he volunteered to look there, because she doesn’t think she’d survive if she found Flynn dead.
The agonizing screams and moans of the wounded surround and fill her ears. The blood, gore and deprivation stain and mar her vision. Even she has to admit that she was not truly prepared for the horrific reality of the bloodiest battle of the Civil War. Lucy searches throughout the night, doubling back in case Flynn was brought into one of the medical tents while she was searching elsewhere.
As the morning sun breaks the horizon, she runs into Wyatt. She knew it was only a matter of time before Wyatt would want to abandon the search. It’s not exactly a secret to anyone that the two men don’t get along.
“Lucy!”
“Did you find him?” she asks with baited breath.
“No, but I found the Rittenhouse sleepers dead in the brush near the tree. Flynn managed to do his job. Meade is alive and well,” Wyatt responds.
“We need to find him!” Lucy exclaims.
“You lookin’ for someone ma’am?” a voice calls out from behind her.
She spins around frantically and finds a boy in his late teens with a bandage around his head.
“Yes. He’s about 6’4-”
“Ma’am, they’re still bringing the wounded down from Cemetery Ridge. The man you’re looking for could be among them. It was way too chaotic for me to know who I was even next to during the battle, so a description is really not going to help me know if I’ve seen him or not,” the boy answers honestly before walking away.
“Lucy…”
“We’re not leaving without him, Wyatt!”
“But, Lucy-”
“Don’t but Lucy me. You can leave if you want. I won’t until I find him. Dead or alive, I will find him!” she states vehemently.
Suddenly, a commotion at the top of the hill catches her attention. The wounded are being ferried down the hill to the medical tents on stretchers. She takes off running towards them, despite Wyatt’s protests.
As soon as she crests the hill, she gasps at the line of stretchers coming down the path. The sheer magnitude of war is on full display. She rushes down the path, glancing at each wounded soldier as she passes by. As she passes the fourth stretcher, she stops dead in her tracks. Is it? Oh, no!
She flies past the line of stretchers towards a group of men lying on the ground by the side of the path. She falls to her knees, tears streaming down her face, as she grabs ahold of his lifeless body.
“Flynn! Flynn!”
He moans loudly and her heart skips a beat. He’s still alive. Thank god.
“Don’t hurt me, please,” he mumbles deliriously.
“Flynn, it’s Lucy.”
“Don’t hurt me, please,” he echoes.
“I’ve got you. No one can hurt you now,” she answers, as she cradles his head gently.
Dirt, blood and grime cover his face, neck and hands. Blood oozes from his head and ears, as well as from the bullet wound to his left shoulder. He’s never seen him this pale, this weak, this helpless. Every fiber of her being wants to pull him into her arms and rock him gently, but she’s afraid moving him will hurt him even more. But, she needs to get him out of here. He’s been through enough, she can’t subject him to nineteenth century medicine as well.
Wyatt suddenly appears behind her gasping for breath.
“Wyatt, help me get him up,” Lucy orders.
It takes all of Wyatt’s strength to get him off the ground. Once he’s upright again, Lucy takes one side as Wyatt bears the brunt of Flynn’s dead weight. They cobble through the line of stretchers back to the camp.
“Lucy…”
“I’m right here, Flynn,” she reassures him, as they teeter from side to side.
It takes what feels like an eternity for the two of them to get Flynn back to the Lifeboat. Thankfully, Wyatt bears the brunt of his weight this entire time. There’s no way she could’ve done this on her own. It takes a herculean effort to get Flynn inside the ship. Wyatt and Lucy push his body, as Jiya pulls his arms from inside. Once they get him settled into his seat and harnessed, Jiya jumps back to the bunker.
It takes just as much effort to remove him from the Lifeboat, but the team manages to get him back into his cot. Agent Christopher brings in a doctor to tend to his wounds. Lucy has never seen him like this. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, which worries her more than the bullet wound currently is. Flynn’s taken his fair share of bullets over the years and even Lucy knows it’s not a lethal injury. Yet, he looks like death and hasn’t woken up. The blood on his head is only from a superficial cut, but the blood from his ears appears to have the doctor just as worried as Lucy. The doctor informs Lucy and Agent Christopher that he has to transfer Flynn to a hospital.
“His head injuries are consistent with the concussive force of an explosion, yet there are no other signs consistent with a bomb or IED. I need to do an MRI. None of this is making sense,” the doctor explains.
Lucy does not want him to leave her sight. She knows how much danger he’ll be in if they take him to a hospital where Rittenhouse could easily find him. He’s unresponsive and vulnerable and it’s tearing her heart in two. Agent Christopher agrees to the transfer, and to Lucy’s surprise, she allows her to accompany him.
The wait is agonizing as they run test after test. She needs to see him, needs to hear and know that he’ll be okay. She needs him.
Finally, they wheel him back into his hospital room. Lucy springs up from her seat, eager to hear his prognosis from the doctor. The doctor balks about Lucy hearing about his condition, HIPAA and such and such. Again, to her surprise, Agent Christopher informs the doctor that Lucy is actually Flynn’s next-of-kin. Lucy doesn’t argue, but instead doubles down.
“That’s-that’s right! Doctor, is he going to be okay?” she pleads.
“He’s got a pretty severe concussion, but luckily no brain hemorrhage or subdural hematoma. One of his ear drums was perforated as well, but that’s not life-threatening. He should wake up soon. With the concussion, the only way to tell if he’ll have long-term consequences is to wait and see,” the doctor advises.
Lucy breathes out heavily, the relief washing over her now. She won’t be able to completely relax until Flynn wakes up, but at least she’ll get the chance to tell him how she feels after all. If he had died…
She shakes the thought from her head, then slumps down in a chair next to his bed. Agent Christopher attempts to get her to come with her to get coffee, but Lucy staunchly refuses to leave his side for anything.
Once Agent Christopher leaves the room, Lucy brushes errant strands of hair from Flynn’s forehead, as she pleadingly whispers for him to come back to her. She grips his hand and squeezes every so often.
“Come on, Flynn. Wake up, please,” she begs.
Eventually, she falls asleep at his bedside, her hand still gripping his, as if her connection to him is a lifeline.
“Lucy.”
She smiles as she hears him call her name. She knows it’s just a dream, but she misses the way he says her name. She misses his voice in general.
“Lucy!”
She realizes a moment later that her hand is being squeezed and her eyes flash open in confusion. It takes her a second to recognize that he’s awake, but once she does, she flings herself at him with reckless abandon. He groans as their bodies collide and she pulls back and apologizes profusely.
“Lucy, it’s okay. I’m just glad to be waking up with all my limbs.”
“That’s not funny,” she scolds.
She’s so ecstatic that he’s awake, she just now notices he’s still holding her hand, his thumb drawing circles absentmindedly.
“What happened?” she asks with concern evident in her voice.
“The man next to me on the ridge was hit by a cannonball. I moved out of the way just in time or it would’ve killed me as well,” he explains. “That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Why were you fighting?”
“After I took out the two sleepers, I waited for you guys to come back. When you didn’t, I did what I do best. I fought,” he responds.
“But, you didn’t have to. Did you honestly believe we wouldn’t come back for you; that I wouldn’t come back for you?” Lucy asks incredulously.
“Maybe,” he answers hesitantly.
“Garcia Flynn!”
“I didn’t know you cared, Lucy,” he teases.
She pulls her hand free from his and cups his face gently.
“Well then…let me make it abundantly clear how much I care about you,” she whispers, as she kisses him softly.
He kisses her back with ardent fervor, threading his hand into her hair to pull her even closer. As they part, she whispers, “I won’t let that happen to you again. I will never leave you behind.”
“Lucy-”
“Never.”
He smiles shyly back at her and her heart skips a beat.
“And, if you ever even think of doing something stupid like that again, I’ll kill you myself,” she deadpans.
He laughs heartily and she breaks her stoicism a moment later. He takes her hand in his again, brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles.
“I promise that I will run ever stupid idea I have by you first. Deal?”
“Deal,” she answers with a huge grin before leaning in and kissing him again.
"just kiss me and act like you do it everyday" for Garcy, possibly undercover, idk, whatever inspires the muse!
Thanks for the prompt Nonny! I tried to make this as true to canon as possible. I chose this particular mission just because I wanted to do something different. I didn’t want to rehash other prominent figures in American history that other people have already done. If you don’t like this (I’m being dead serious right now), please let me know and I will come up with something else.
Flynn despises that infernal alarm. He swears Rittenhouse must have a crystal ball, because every single time he wants to sleep, take a shower, or more importantly, talk to Lucy, that damn thing blares across the bunker.
Lucy runs frantically in front of him towards the command center. It only takes him a couple of strides to catch up to her and take his position at her side.
“They jumped to August 4, 1961, Honolulu, Hawaii,” Jiya explains, as she peers at the readout on the console.
The wheels in Lucy’s brain are turning. He knows because he’s seen that look before, but she’s not coming up with anything. He’s seen that look before as well.
“Any ideas, Lucy?” Agent Christopher questions.
A few seconds later, an absolute look of horror spreads across her face.
