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It was a scene which could easily have featured on a Christmas card, a woodland of dark fir trees, their branches heavily laden with thick snow glittering in the moonlight. Flurries of large snowflakes descended silently from the heavens, adding to the already considerable blanket of snow carpeting the ground between the trees.
Suddenly the peaceful scene was disturbed by the muffled sound of puffing and panting, the scrape-thump of a large, heavy object being dragged through the snow and voices raised in what could have been anger or concern.
A figure came into view, a man, very red in the face and dripping with sweat, even in the cold air. He moved backwards slowly, with jerky movements as he hauled something which was obviously very large and heavy through the forest.
“Goddammit Flynn! Could you be any more difficult to carry?” he swore, hauling a very tall, very unconscious man by the legs, letting his head thump to the ground each time he managed to get him over a tree root.
“WYATT! WILL YOU MIND HIS HEAD! For fuck’s sake, you’ll give him a concussion!”
A small, brunette woman appeared from the trees. She was rather pink in the face, this appeared to be from anger rather than physical exertion as she was yelling at the man who was doing all the carrying work rather than helping him.
“Y’know what Lucy, I really don’t care if he gets a concussion. At this rate he’ll be lucky if he gets home alive,” Wyatt spat back as he dropped the other man’s legs unceremoniously into the snow. “In fact, why the hell am I the only one dragging Flynn’s sorry ass back to the Lifeboat?”
Lucy had the grace to look away, embarrassed. “Because I couldn’t even lift him. Don’t get me wrong Wyatt, I’m grateful you are getting him there, but could you be a little more mindful of the possibility of giving him a head injury?”
Wyatt turned away, huffing to himself as he picked up Flynn’s legs and began dragging him along again.
“Head injury? I’ll give him a goddamn head injury alright, but I’ll wait till he’s conscious again,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“What was that, Wyatt?” Lucy demanded suspiciously.
“I said, why am I doing ALL the work? Why aren’t you helping Rufus?” he yelled back as another man appeared slowly, some way behind.
“Because I told him, I warned him, I said ‘Flynn don’t go into the experimental drugs lab on your own to confront Emma, that’s not going to end well and I am not dragging your giant redwood ass back to the Lifeboat’, that’s why!” Rufus explained sarcastically. “And now he’s high as a kite, off in la-la land and we are stuck with clearing up his mess again!”
“WE?” Wyatt and Lucy paused momentarily to turn and yell at Rufus.
“And I hurt my ankle getting us both out of there,” he added, quietly, under the pressure of their glares.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t get a horse and cart to carry him back?” Lucy complained, “It would have been easier on you Wyatt and definitely easier on Garcia’s head!”
“Yeah, great plan Lucy, getting a horse and cart from the village where Emma and her Rittengoons had a hideout? That would have ended so well!”
Wyatt was most definitely not having a good day.
As the partly bickering, partly limping and partly unconscious party began to disappear into the cover of the snow-laden trees, leaving the forest glade peaceful once again, none of them noticed the smile that flickered across the unconscious Flynn’s face. There was no doubt that a splitting headache awaited him later, but for now, in his drugged stupor, Flynn was dreaming of Lucy hauling him off to their room in the bunker and kissing him silly, and having the most fantastic day in her arms.