Work Text:
December 25, 1996
"Mommy! Daddy! We're starting!" A six-year-old with a mess of bed-tangled red hair bounces up and down in front of a stack of Christmas presents.
A woman's voice bellows from the top of the stairs. "Don't you dare! Lucy, keep your sister away from the tree."
Ignoring her mother, Amy reaches for a small box at the top of the pile.
Lucy swats her hand away. "Mom said not yet."
"It's just one." The younger girl rolls her eyes.
Henry laughs as he reaches the bottom step. "Girls, your mother will kill me if you don't wait for her to get the camera." He pads barefoot across the living room and sinks into the recliner next to the tree.
"Daddy, pleeeeease," Amy begs.
"And deprive your mother of recording that smiling face for posterity? No way."
Before Amy can object again, Carol descends the stairs, camera in hand. "Who's ready to open presents?"
A chorus of "me, me, me" erupts from two excited little girls. Henry grabs two elegantly wrapped boxes and hands one to each. In an instant, Amy tears away the paper. She squeals in delight at the sight of the doll she's begged her parents to buy. Beside her, Lucy carefully removes the tape from the corners of her gift. Pulling it from its silver wrapper reveals a hard-cover book sleeve with the photo of a bearded man in a top hat.
Lucy gasps and flips open the pages. "No way. It even has the Lyceum speech!"
Carol smiles. "Won't that be fun to recite later?"
Lucy grins, scrambles to her feet and rushes into the protective arms of her mother and father to offer hugs and thank yous.
###
December 25, 2013
The smell of peppermint and coffee arrives before Flynn opens his eyes. The floor creaks from that one spot near the door. A moment later, the bed next to him sinks. A weight drops onto his chest, and he peels his eyelids open to a spray of blond curls across his face.
"Daddy, rise and shine," the four-year-old orders, copying a phrase from her mother.
"Five more minutes," he jokes as he wraps an arm around his daughter. He tilts his head toward the other side of the bed and finds it empty.
"No way!" Iris grabs his hand as she scrambles to her feet. "I waited MONTHS!"
"Oh. In that case…" He rubs his eyes and swings his legs off the bed. Scooping her up, he flings her over his shoulder. "Where are we going?"
Her giggles fill the room. "Presents!"
"Oh. Okay. Are they this way?" He starts walking toward the closet.
She squeals and points to the door. "No! That way!"
With his daughter directing and Flynn pretending to take wrong turns, they make their way through the hall into the living room. He sits with her in his lap beside the Christmas tree as Lorena arrives with a smile and two peppermint coffees. Joining them on the floor, she hands him his steaming mug. He takes it and kisses his wife on the head.
###
December 25, 2014
Lucy Preston unlocks the door to her mother's house. Her brow wrinkles as she steps inside. The typical scent of Christmas dinner that she's grown accustomed to has been replaced by an appetizing but unusual odor. After putting her bag and coat in the closet, she makes her way to the living room. "What's that smell?"
Amy looks up from her spot on the sofa where she's flipping through channels. "Deer."
"What?"
"Ask mom."
"It's venison," Carol shouts from another room. "I thought it would be fun to have a theme this year."
Following her mother's voice, Lucy's eyes narrow as she scans the kitchen. "What's the theme?"
"Christmas on the American frontier." Carol reaches across the counter and snatches up a small book with a plain gray cover. "Here, Lucy. This is what inspired the idea. I thought you'd like to read up on it too."
"Mom," Amy shouts over her shoulder. "You are so weird! Even Lucy doesn't want to read about that."
Lucy hugs her mother as she accepts the gift. "But we both love you anyway, mom."
###
December 25, 2014
In the corner of a dark and musty bar, Garcia Flynn swallows a shot of burning liquid. The sting has already dulled by many before it. Still not enough to numb the pain. Never enough to fade the memory. Never enough to stop the guilt of not saving the two people he promised he would always protect.
Lights flicker. The bartender makes an announcement in Portuguese. Through his drunken haze, Flynn struggles to grasp the words. The bar is closing.
Lifting to his hood to cover his face, Flynn stumbles alone into the humid night.
###
December 25, 2018 (Mission to November 1, 1920)
"We're only here to help." Lucy begs, "Just let us go."
"You were helpin' somebody, but not us." An pale, aggressive man in a jacketless suit with his sleeves rolled up hisses as he squeezes her arm tighter. He smooths his tie and glares at Flynn. "Because I'm a gentleman, I'll take care of the dame, but you get the same treatment as the others."
Flynn struggles against his restraints. It's useless. With a firm grip on Lucy, the man in control nods and the two men flanking Flynn begin to drag him away.
Lucy calls Flynn's name and lunges, but her captor yanks her back.
"Please, don't kill him!"
###
December 28, 2018
The bunker is eerily silent. No shower running. No idle chit-chat. No voices from a TV show the team has watched half a dozen times filling the cavernous space. It's been at least an hour since Lucy last heard anyone
With Jessica's help, the team stopped Emma and arrested her remaining crew. Everyone started to clear out after Denise invited them to make the most of the remaining holiday season at her place; a dinner not only for the holidays but a celebration of their victory. Lucy had ducked out, turning off her phone and grabbing a book to find a secluded spot where no one would question why she didn't feel up to joining the party.
Assuming everyone has gone by now, Lucy folds closed her book. She makes her way into the main hallway, rubbing her arms at the slight chill that's started to creep into the air. Denise must have shut off the heat before she left. The warmth of that bottle of vodka under the sofa is calling her name. Thinking about nothing more than curling under a blanket with a hard drink, Lucy enters the common area.
One step through the entryway, she halts in her tracks. A surprised squeak escapes her mouth.
The tall figure in front of the open refrigerator whirls at the sound. His eyes dart over the room before he relaxes and lifts his arms in surrender, beer bottle clasped in one hand. "It's just me."
She clutches her hand to her chest and catches her breath. Registering that the man is Flynn, she laughs nervously. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone else was still here." Lucy bites her lip. Alone with Flynn. Just her luck. Not that it's the worst thing in the world. It's… it's… Well, she's been dodging him for three days while she tries to figure out exactly what it is.
"Me either." He offers the unopened beer bottle in her direction.
Her first inclination is to politely decline and avoid the inevitable conversation. Of course, she knows they should talk. She's a grown adult and adults talk to each other when— When things like what happened happen. But how could she explain when she's not even sure why she'd done it?
Watching him with his eyebrow raised and hopeful smile, Lucy can't bring herself to leave him standing there alone. She nods.
He turns to grab another beer. "I thought you left with the others."
As he closes the fridge door, Lucy crosses the room and takes the offered bottle. "I didn't feel up to it."
Flynn pries the lid off his beer before passing her the opener. "Christmas dinner with Wyatt and Jessica too awkward?"
Yanking the cool metal from his hands a bit too forcefully, Lucy bristles. The sincerity and concern in his voice doesn't take the sting out of his words. "It's December 28th," she replies, popping the lid off her bottle.
"The date doesn't matter." He casts his eyes downward and leans against the counter. "Christmas is when you're with the people you love."
"Wow." Lucy huffs. "You're awfully sentimental."
Staring at his beer bottle, he replies, "I used to be."
Lucy grimaces at her thoughtless statement. At a loss for words, she sips her beer in silence. Seconds pass before she reminds herself that the man next to her once stayed awake half the night listening to her vent. She may not have worked out how to explain what happened on that mission, but she could still confide in her friend.
Lucy lets out a sigh. "Wyatt isn't the reason I didn't go." When Flynn shoots a sideways glance at her, she concedes. "Okay, fine. It still stings a little. It's not exactly fun to watch your ex with his pregnant wife while you have no one." She shakes her head. "Not that we're even exes. That train derailed as it left the station." Taking a drink, she watches Flynn stare into his mostly-filled beer bottle. Maybe her judgement of him isn't as bad as the others think. "But I've um…" And maybe the best way for her to sort it out is to just say something. "I've moved on." She peeks at him for his reaction. He has none, and Lucy retreats from her implication. "I mean I'm over it. I can deal with seeing them together."
He rests his hand on the counter as he faces her. "So what can't you deal with?"
Lucy swigs her drink as she feels Flynn studying her. She returns a glance before her gaze retreats to a neutral place on the other side of the room. "It was when Denise invited us to dinner with Michelle and the kids. All I could think about was my own family. I'll never have another happy Christmas with any of them." She resumes tugging at her beer label. "And even the ones I remember are a lie. I can't help but wonder how much of my mother's affection was just her preparing me for the grand plan to change history." She shakes her head. "She was never who I thought she was."
The corner of Flynn's mouth ticks upward. "Nobody's parents are exactly who we think they were."
Lucy exhales sharply. "Yeah, but most people's mothers didn't lead a cult bent on world domination. Plus, with Amy gone… I can't handle the reminder of what I've lost." She takes another drink then tries to fake a smile. "Anyway, that's me. Why are you still here?" The second her eyes land on his face, she considers who she's venting to and curses how inconsiderate she's been. If she dreads the reminder of her lost family, Christmas without his wife and daughter must be debilitating. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about your—"
"It's okay. It's not that." When Lucy tilts her head, he turns to watch the same spot on the wall as she had. "Don't get me wrong. I've been there, but lately I've had some reminders that I uh… I wouldn't mind… um…" He ruffles his fingers through his hair and steals a glance at her. Looking at the rim of his half-empty bottle, he finishes, "I wouldn't mind some type of family dynamic now."
"Then you should have gone to dinner." Lucy leans in and nudges him with her shoulder.
He huffs a laugh and wraps both hands around his drink. "I have the feeling I wouldn't be very welcome."
"Of course you would. Denise invited everyone."
"I don't think that included me."
"What?" Lucy rests the bottle on the counter as she turns to face him. "Why wouldn't it?"
He raises a skeptical eyebrow that says, "You know why."
She scrunches her nose, conceding that the others really haven't warmed up to him as she has. Rufus and Jiya seem to be coming around, but everyone mostly sees him as the supposed terrorist willing to take out anyone in his way. She offers a lop-sided smile. "They'll see it eventually."
Flynn narrows his eyes in confusion with a hint of intrigue. "See what?"
"That you're a good person."
A sad smile tugs at one corner of his lips. "You don't have to say things like that anymore. The mission is over."
###
"Please, don't kill him," Lucy begs.
"You got a good reason why not?"
Eyes fixed solidly on Flynn's as the two men drag him out the door, Lucy doesn't think about her response. "Because I love him!"
For an instant, Flynn stops struggling and blinks in surprise.
###
Lucy's face flushes at the mention of the topic she's been avoiding. She peels the corner of the label from the bottle in her hand, forcing herself not to overthink the confession she's been trying to talk herself out of. "About that…"
He waves a hand at her. "Don't worry about it."
"No, I want to explain." She mindlessly tears the label further. "What I said at the… when they were about to—"
"Really, you don't have to explain anything, Lucy. Obviously, it was awkward for you." He bobs his head to the side. "I mean, you do keep running the other direction every time I try to talk to you…" His tongue brushes over his lips in the way Lucy has noticed it does when he's nervous or thinking. "But it's fine. We were pretending to be married, and you played your part. Lucky for us both, Rufus came to the rescue so we didn't have to find out if your plan actually would've worked." Hastily, he adds, "Anyway, don't worry. I never got the wrong impression."
"Oh." Lucy swallows. "Right. Of course." She relaxes against the counter. Relief comes over her even as she's disappointed with her fleeting courage. "So…" She escapes to a new topic. "What were your plans for tonight then?"
He holds up his bottle and waves it at her.
She laughs. "Festive. You know, you shouldn't be alone for Christmas."
"It's December 28th," he reminds her.
She grins and tilts her head. "It's not the date that matters." Lucy studies him, hesitating to finish her thought. He shifts his focus to her, scanning her face. A look in his eyes that might be hope fills her with a warmth that propels her. "It's spending the day with people you love."
The corner of his mouth lifts, and a spark lights his eyes.
She bites her lip then looks away to dismiss the rush his smile sends through her. She gestures toward the other side of the room. "I'm sure there are some lame Christmas movies over there…" She shrugs. "That is if you're willing to watch one with me."
"Sure." A warm smile brightens his face. "But only if it's a lame one."
"I'll find the lamest." Lucy beams and pushes off the counter to make her way to the pile of DVDs.
###
Flynn closes the microwave door, pulls out a bowl then settles on the sofa beside Lucy. From beneath a fleece blanket, she grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl between them. On the TV, the scene pans around a series of tree trunks painted with various holiday iconography. The camera enters the tree that's painted for Halloween. Out of blackness, a jack-o-lantern's face grows until it fills the screen to reveal its scarecrow body.
Flynn's forehead wrinkles as he looks back and forth between the TV and the woman next to him. "What is this?"
The camera soars over a graveyard of singing shadows and ghosts.
"The movie." She turns her head to see if he's kidding. Tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth, her eyes return to the screen. "Have you never seen it before?"
"No." The singing continues into the chorus, and his lines of confusion deepen. "Why did you pick a Halloween movie?"
"What!?" Indignant, Lucy nearly knocks the popcorn over as she reaches across him to grab the remote from the table. Popcorn spills onto the floor before he catches the bowl and moves it to the side. Lucy hits the pause button, freezing on the second round of the chorus. Returning to the sofa and facing him, her knee brushes his. "The Nightmare Before Christmas is a Christmas movie, not a Halloween movie."
"I heard them saying 'Halloween'… a lot."
Lucy shows the DVD cover in defense of her selection. "It says 'Christmas' in the title."
Watching her intently, he shifts and rests his arm on the back of the sofa. "Hmm…"
"What?" She looks him up and down, baffled by his lack of response. "You don't believe me?"
"I do." He tilts his head. "I'm just surprised by your choice. Given your reality TV taste, I thought you'd pick one of those Hallmark ones."
"Really? I've never watched one of those." She studies him for some hint he's joking, but his expression is genuine curiosity; maybe a bit of something else, possibly disappointment. "Is that what you wanted to watch?"
He tilts his head and lifts one shoulder. "I wouldn't mind."
Lucy's jaw drops. "Oh my God." She leans in as her hand lands on his arm. "Garcia Flynn likes Hallmark Christmas movies."
He laughs, shaking his head. "I'm not ashamed of that."
"That's okay." She grins. "I respect a man who's not afraid to admit he's a sucker for a cheesy movie." She swings her legs to the front of the sofa and picks up a small stack of movies from the coffee table. "Sorry, we have a limited selection here." Shuffling through them, she lists the titles. "The Breakfast Club, Dead Poet's Society, The Dark Knight, Ghost, The Godfather, Die Hard—"
He leans forward. "That's a Christmas one."
"What is? Die Hard ?"
"Yeah. You haven't seen it?"
"No. Isn't that an action movie?"
"Yeah, a Christmas one." When she squints skeptically, he adds, "Check the description."
Lucy turns over the case and reads. When she finishes, she looks at him with a scowl. "So Bruce Willis saves a Christmas party from terrorists?"
"Exactly."
"Doesn't sound like a Christmas movie. Sounds like an action movie that just happens to be set at Christmas."
He laughs. "No, it's a Christmas movie that happens to have action."
"I don't know." Lucy scrunches her nose. "We might as well watch Nightmare Before Christmas."
"But there's nothing Christmassy in it." He gestures at the motionless image on the TV. "That's a ghost."
"A Christmas Carol has ghosts."
He smothers a smile. "Does it also have pumpkins and skeletons?"
Lucy chuckles and rocks her head back. "I promise this gets more Christmassy."
"Hmm…" He pauses and narrows his eyes at her. "How much more?"
She grins. "If I told you, that would spoil it." When he doesn't immediately concede, she tilts her head and assumes her most persuasive voice. "I guarantee it's more Christmassy than Die Hard."
He sucks in an exaggerated breath. "Careful. That may be a bigger guarantee than you think."
"Fine." She smacks his leg and lets her hand linger for a moment. "If it's not, I owe you an invite for a Hallmark Christmas movie."
"Alright." He reaches for the remote on the coffee table. His arm brushes hers, and the scent of his cologne drifts by. "But there's one problem. How will we decide the winner if we only watch this one?"
"Hmm… Good point." Lucy makes a show of biting her lip. "I guess we watch both?"
His eyes sparkle as he settles into the sofa. "Both it is."
Flynn hits the play button on the remote. Lucy tucks her legs beneath her and pulls her blanket up to her chin. When Jack Skellington sings about Sandy Claws, Lucy's shoulder casually leans into Flynn's. As Sally jumps from the tower, Flynn curls his arm around Lucy; she snuggles into his chest. After switching the movie, Lucy returns to the sofa. Flynn softly says her name. She meets his eyes, and he leans forward and kisses her gently.
###
December 31, 2018
Standing in front of the TV screen in Lucy's living room, Rufus accepts two fizzing champagne flutes from Denise then hands one to Jiya. In turn, the agent's wife gives her a glass of her own. Wyatt puts his arm around Jessica. Flying solo for the evening, Connor leans against a recliner laughing at a joke Amy tells.
The countdown on-screen reaches thirty seconds.
Flynn leans against the wall at the back of the room, arms crossed, looking uncomfortable enough that he might sneak out while everyone is facing the other way. Lucy returns from the kitchen and hands him a glass. Her fingers graze his, and she notices his wedding ring is missing. When had he stopped wearing it?
She hesitates next to him. They hadn't really gotten the chance to talk about their brief kiss. After falling asleep on the sofa, Denise had woken them when she arrived in the morning with the okay to attempt to restore Amy to the timeline. Since then, things had been business as usual as they worked to bring Lucy's sister back. Without a moment alone, Lucy has been left to wonder what the kiss meant for them.
The countdown nears twenty. Lucy glances in Flynn's direction. With a hesitant half-smile, he glances back. She tucks her hair behind her ear. Lowering her hand, she brushes his.
10… 9…
His fingers follow hers.
8… 7…
Her pinky hooks around his.
6… 5…
He shifts closer.
4…
She weaves her fingers with his.
3…
He meets her eyes.
2…
She bites her lip.
1…
He kisses her.
Innocent and uncertain turns to the passion of two people who've forgotten the world around them.
Hearing the exaggerated sound of a clearing throat, Lucy reluctantly steps back. The whole group stares at them. Denise and Wyatt look horrified. Connor is confused. Jessica is amused and Michelle surprised. Jiya and Rufus exchange a questioning look, wordlessly asking each other, "Did you know about this?"
"So…" Amy blinks in disbelief. "Lucy, when were you going to mention Garcia is your boyfriend?"
###
December 25, 2019
Lucy wakes up to the sound of the door creaking open and the clinking of dishes. Groaning, she rubs her eyes. As she blinks away sleep, she feels the bed shift around her legs. She opens her eyes to a tray of breakfast, coffee, and orange juice.
Flynn smiles and slides into the bed next to her. "Merry Christmas."
She beams. "This is amazing. Thank you." She leans over and kisses him. "Are you just going to watch me eat?"
He props his head on his hand against the headboard. "Yep."
She laughs, stabs a piece of cantaloupe and holds it out for him before she digs into her waffles. When she's finished, he takes away the tray then pulls out a small white box with a red ribbon from under his pillow.
She raises an eyebrow. "I thought we were all opening presents at Rufus and Jiya's."
"Well, maybe you can cheat and open just this one."
She takes the box from him. "What about you?"
"That's okay. Just open yours."
Lucy pulls off the ribbon and lifts the lid to reveal a black velvet jewelry box. She glances at Flynn, and her breath catches. His expectant smile reveals the box's contents. Lucy stills her trembling hands and pries open the lid. Inside, a red gemstone sits on a simple band. Feeling tears threatening to escape, Lucy grabs Flynn and pulls him into a kiss.
When she pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers. "You didn't answer."
"You didn't ask."
"Lucy, will you marry me?"
Her eyes shine. "Absolutely."