- Out of Time -

                                    

                                          
I have a really good idea for the back-end of S2, right before S3, hope you guys like it! My only warnings for this chapter is that there's some blood, and a conversation happens in German. I take German in school, but I trust any fluent speakers to point out any mistakes I make! ( ◜‿◝ )♡
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I had concluded that (Y/n) definitely got motion sickness from the briefcases - something I didn't know could occur beforehand. When we arrived back in the 60's, I was actually a bit worried that she would throw up as she had shoved the bag containing AJ into my hands and hunched over as she leaned against a nearby brick wall. 
Reaching over, I rubbed my hand in small circles between her shoulder blades. I almost pulled away when I realized I had gotten a bit of blood on her coat, but a sudden heave of her body made me think better of it. 
Oddly enough, my mind procured a very different setting: (Y/n) hunched over a sink or something, and I was beside her, rubbing her back and holding her hair while she threw up. We probably would have been at a party before, maybe she drank too much - though I figured that would probably be the other way around. Perhaps we had engaged in a drinking contest or something, and it turned out she didn't have as much of a tolerance as me.
I wondered if we could have done something like that if she hadn't been in that accident, and if I hadn't left. Maybe I could have done something different back then. Maybe this time . . . 
The sound of heels clicking against the pavement around the corner dragged me out of my thoughts, and I pulled my hand away from (Y/n)'s back.
"What's wrong with your little friend," the Handler asked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, "can't handle time travel too well?"
A quiet grumble resounded from the girl, and she stood upright beside me, "I guess I just got spoiled . . . traveling with Five."
I barely smothered a smile when the taller woman's lip curled in a forced smile. "Well? Where's my fish?" she queried, changing the subject - quite obviously  at that.
"Right here," I said flatly, holding out the plastic bag.
Delight spread across her face almost immediately as she took the bag from me, giddily watching her boss - former, I guess - anxiously swimming around the bag. Looking at me, her eyes darted to (Y/n) before remarking, "And you're still pulling off those tight shorts of yours." 
I nearly heard (Y/n) rolling her eyes.
"You've been quieter than usual," she noted. "After a slaughtering like that you're typically raring to go!"
I bit the inside of my cheek, figuring out the best way to respond. " . . . I'm done with this. The Commission life, I'm done."
The tall brunette threw me a fake pout. "You honestly think I'll believe that?" she questioned, pulling a handkerchief out of her shirt. Dabbing the white fabric with her tongue, she started wiping away the blood on my face - much to my disgruntlement. But I had to admit, it was a bit nice to see (Y/n) bristling in my peripheral.
"The only reason I killed those people was to help the people I care about."
"Oh, come on now, save your little 'Gold-Hearted Killer' act for someone who'll believe it. Now," she bent down a little to pick up a new briefcase, "as promised, this case will get you and your companions back to your original timeline." Turning away, she added, "You've got ninety minutes to activate it."
"Hey!" I called after her. "You never said anything about a time frame!"
"Well now I am, so you better get a move on . . . You're almost down a whole minute."