~ Chapter Five ~
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~ June 30, 2017, 2:47 a.m ~
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Henry
"Henry..." Barry sighed, rolling his head around on his shoulders for a moment. "We're all exhausted. We'd do well to take a break. A nap, if you will. There isn't much left to do, but what is left is critical... we should at least attempt to be rested."
"So rest," Henry snapped, rubbing her eyes and cursing when one of her contacts fell out, sticking to her hand. "But first, hand me my purse."
She had a contact case and saline solution in there somewhere. Not to mention a couple pairs of glasses.
He passed it to her and she got both of the contacts into the case with little trouble. She squinted over in his direction, expecting to find him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, or even with his head down on the desk. But he wasn't resting. He wasn't even moving. He was just staring at her expectantly.
"You can go, Barry. I'm fine."
"But you're not," he insisted, his tone taking on that of the Barry who had asked her out to coffee once. Not that they'd gone. He'd never followed through through with definitive plans. "Henry..."
She jammed her glasses onto her nose and ignored him.
"Henry, you can talk to me," Barry pushed, his hand reaching out and stopping just shy of hers.
"I'm losing this battle."
Saying the words felt freeing somehow. Yet she was still consumed by dread, which felt a lot like a stone in her stomach.
"No you're not, you're one of the smartest people I know, Henry. You're going to figure this out, just like you figure everything else out."
Henry shook her head. "Did you know, I didn't like her at first? Suzannah? But now... She's a friend. What if she's stuck in the past forever?"
"Phillip wouldn't be so blasé about it if she were." Barry's hand closed around Henry's, without the hesitation she usually came to expect from him. She never knew why he was so skittish around her. He had no need to be. His touch was warm and comforting. She twisted her wrist so her palm lay flat against his, lightly lacing their fingers.
"I suppose you're right. I just... I know what she's doing is important, but..." Henry took a deep breath. "I've been selfish. And... I'm still being selfish. I don't care about what she's doing, I just want her back here safe."
"Everyone wants her back safe," Barry assured her.
"Yeah, but if I could figure out a way to bring her back right now? I'd do it. That missing guy's antibodies be damned... What she wanted to accomplish be damned too." She shot him a knowing look. "See? I'm totally selfish."
"You can be worried about a friend, but still support a colleague's mission as well."
"That's what I'm trying to do here," she confessed. "I want to get her back, but I know she wants to find what she's looking for. So, I'm gonna do that."
"You will. And she will. I can tell, and if you weren't so stressed, so could you, just based on how Dr. Slone's reacting. But I think you do need to rest. So you don't miss any of my mistakes." Barry smiled, a soft sort of gesture, a wry attempt at a joke.
She nodded, standing up so she could go crash on the sofa in her office. As she made her way to the door, Barry dropped her hand and slipped from her fingers. She paused, turning to face him again.
"She's only getting a blood sample right? A week should be plenty of time for that. I wonder why her original mission was for a month?"
He looked down, brown eyes darting before he caught her gaze again. "Phillip only tells me what he thinks I should know."
It was a statement so vague that she couldn't find fault with it. Of course, it was also ambiguous enough it could mean anything. Was Phillip informing her assistant of anything before her? Did Barry know something she didn't, something he was purposefully avoiding talking about?
The wheels in Henry's head began turning, thinking about how his eyes had shifted and how his words seemed carefully chosen to be the complete truth without actually answering her question.
There was something Barry wasn't telling her. There was a lot he wasn't telling her.
So maybe it was time to ask someone else. She wondered if there was a way to wake up Phillip at this hour...
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~September 30, 1987, a little after 9 a.m ~
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Suzannah
Suzannah's stomach was full of butterflies, and not just because she'd fallen into bed with Matthew again, either. Even though it took her longer than she'd care to admit to shake off that feeling. Especially since it wasn't so much a fall as a very purposeful, running leap.
She lay face down on the bed, the sheets tangled around both of them as the afternoon sun streamed in through the window.
Matthew's hand on her back was nice. He ran his fingers through her hair. Seriously, everything he did was so nice and tender and just...
... Reminded her of the fact that she'd be leaving him forever in a few days' time.
This was the saddest fling she'd ever had.
She wished she could spare herself some of the pain she knew was coming. It should have been so easy to avoid, too, if she'd just stopped this thing before it started. But she couldn't stop. Not if her life depended on it.
He was a good kisser, what could she say? He was good at other things too, but holy hell, he gave excellent lip service. Her own mouth was even a little sore this morning. Turns out he was a nibbler. Not a bad trait at all, mind you. But ... this was a high school problem, wasn't it? Not a problem thirty-year-olds had, right?
She supposed thirty-year-olds who were time-travelling and didn't want the baggage that came with sleeping with someone in the past might possibly have this problem. No matter how much of it was piling up at the front door.
Even the thought of all that potential baggage wasn't really putting off her desire to jump his bones again. Repeatedly. As many times as they could before she had to leave.
Even now, when she was fairly certain her libido should had been satisfied enough to last her another couple of years' worth of a dry spell, she still kind of wanted to push him down in the sheets here and just... make him forget his name.
Was that gross, she wondered? This was just about sex, after all. This was lust. She was lusting after a guy who was technically thirty years older than her. He could for real be her father, if, you know, she didn't know who her father was and where he was at this precise moment.
But did it count if they were the same age currently? Because they totally were. Technically.
"You okay, gorgeous?" Matthew asked from his side of the bed. He rolled over to fold around her body, his leg hiking up over the swell of her buttocks. "You're awfully quiet."
She took a deep breath and turned over to better face him, straightening her back as she did. "I'm fine. Just definitely... definitely committing that last session to the permanent memory banks.."
He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist and leaned over to kiss her softly on the lips.
"Is it bad that I..." he trailed off. "I'm gonna miss you, Suze."
"It's not bad to miss someone. But you know that. Which tells me that you changed what you were going to say mid-sentence. And that's totally fine, sweet cheeks."
He smiled, a sort of half smile-half smirk sort of thing. "So it's okay for you to call me sweet cheeks, but I can't call you that?"
She felt a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "You can call me whatever you want, Matthew."
"How about I just call you mine and be done with it?" he asked, grinning before he nuzzled her neck.
His words made her ache. And not in the sexy, fun way, either. In the longing, pining, realizing-that-this-relationship-had-an-expiration-date kind of way.
"You can't keep saying stuff like that."
"Why not? It makes you blush. Which is mega cute."
"Because... It makes me not want to leave. And I definitely have to leave."
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, releasing after a few seconds with a soft pop. "I wish you didn't have to... that's what I was gonna say earlier."
She wanted to reciprocate the sentiment, but it made her have feelings. Deep feelings stirring up in her belly and she couldn't have those feelings. Not for Matthew. Not for him.
Plus, she couldn't stay here. She already existed here. As a baby, but still. There was too much of a chance that she'd run into her past self and rip a hole in the entire universe.
Sigh... semantics.
She inhaled sharply and allowed her head to loll back, giving him more access to the column of her throat, of which he readily took advantage. "What time is it?" she murmured.
He cleared his throat and glanced down at his watch. "Just after one p.m."
"Great. What time are we going to the movies, lover?"
He looked up at her, his brown eyes warm as he took in her flushed appearance. "Lover?"
Her heart beat loudly in her chest, her blood rushed in her head as she gulped. Nodded.
"Now you're the one who's saying things you shouldn't," he whispered, capturing her lips in a kiss so searing that it made her brain start to short circuit. Which was probably for the best. Nothing good was going to come of this conversation.
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"You okay? We don't have to go see a movie if you're not feeling up to it," Matthew jutted his thumb behind him towards the theater.
Suzannah smiled. "No, I actually want to. Been kind of looking forward to it all day."
Though she'd seen them many times, the movies, as it turned out, were actually better in the theater, if that was possible.
They didn't talk much during the first movie. Matthew was kind of enthralled, and far be it for Suzannah to mess up someone's first time with The Princess Bride. More conversation was had during Dirty Dancing, though.
"Oh my god, I used to watch this at all my sleepovers," Suzannah said, leaning over to whisper. "I had the soundtrack."
"It's a good soundtrack," Matthew admitted. "My mom had a lot of these records."
Suzannah quieted for a moment. It was the first time he'd ever mentioned his family. "Has your mom seen this movie?"
Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. She and dad passed away five years ago." He paused, as though thinking on them a moment. "She'd have liked it though."
"Sorry..." she said softly, reaching for his hand. He hesitated for a moment before he gave it to her, lacing their fingers.
"If it's cool with you, I'd rather not talk about it, okay?" he whispered softly, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. "We're gonna have enough sadness in our near future, we don't need this on top of it."
"Sure," she said, blinking back the hot tears that threatened to spill.
He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Don't think about that right now. Ask me something else."
She attempted a grin and asked him the first question she could think of. "You ever bring other girls to the movies?"
"No, Suzannah. You're my first one. Ever. Did I mention? I'm a virgin and I've never kissed anyone before you."
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I'm fishing for, smart ass."
"I haven't brought any other girls to this movie. This movie belongs to you, gorgeous. This one and the other one,too."
She didn't want to admit how much that nickname was growing on her. Or how much his telling her that Dirty Dancing was theirs was doing it for her.
"Ah. I guess I've just ruined you for other women," she teased.
"Actually, yes," he replied simply. "You have."
There were those pesky tears again.
"I know how this ends," she whispered. "Wanna sneak out?"
"And go where?"
"I have this thing in my room... flat, squishy, comfy. Big enough for two people. I wanna say you guys call them beds? Is that right?"
Grinning he looked down at their clasped hands. "You sure? You feel up for more spelunking?"
"Dude, it's not me who's doing the spelunking, I think the question is, are you up for more spelunking?"
He tugged her closer, arm around her back. "I'm always up for spelunking."
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It took them longer than she'd have liked to get back to Slone's house, but once they had, their desires were singular.
Suzannah took her bottom lip between her teeth, hooking her finger in the collar of his t-shirt as she led him back towards the bed. He slipped his arms around her waist and pressed his lips against hers, effectively sweeping her off her feet and onto the bed.
She broke off the kiss for just a moment. "Okay...just a second," she confessed."I have to say this, because I don't think I said it last night,but you are hella good at kissing me."
Grinning, he kissed her again. "Don't tell me that; I'll never stop kissing you."
"Maybe I don't want you to."
His lips trailed down her jaw, his fingers combing back strands of her hair as he peppered kisses down her neck. He sucked gently right where it turned into her shoulder. She melted back against the mattress.
Those lips were criminal, and she was on board with whatever they wanted to do.
Matthew's fingers played with the hem of her shirt, nudging it up far enough to expose some skin. "Ya know, every time you lift your arms in this shirt, it scoots up? Really distracting."
"I could just... take it off? Would that help with the distraction?"
He sighed. "Well, you know... you can try, I guess. Dunno if that'll help or not."
She giggled and crossed her arms over her waist, grabbing the bottom of her shirt and pulling it up over her head. She tossed it on the floor and basked in the way his eyes widened, just like they had the night before.
"Fuckin' A, these are nice..." His fingers traced along the bottom shelf of her bra and she was secretly happy that she'd worn her nice twenty-first century undergarments today instead of the boring, functional bra she'd purchased at the mall.
This one was lacey. And blue. And had demi cups that gave her that really nice amount of cleavage.
"Thanks? Grew them myself," she said with a soft chuckle.
He responded by tugging down on the cup of the bra and tracing his thumb over her now exposed nipple. She sucked in a breath and clenched a handful of the comforter in her hand. She practically quivered as he raked his thumb back and forth, flicking her stiff and apparently loving every second of it.
He was about to lower his mouth down to her when a sharp beeping sound pierced the silence. His pager, which he'd thunked down on her side table when they'd arrived. He stopped suddenly, sitting straight up. He reached over to pick up the pager, casting a glance back at her as she scrambled to tug down her shirt.
"Shit... sorry, Suze..."
"What?" she asked, reaching down to tug up the cup on her bra.
"I sort of forgot that I have something going on tonight. Just for a few hours. You gonna be okay without me?"
Her eyes widened before she made a grab for her shirt. "Dude. Of course. So sorry."
"I'm the one who's sorry." He sat back on the bed beside her as she tugged on her shirt. "Really sorry."
"It's fine," she leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Can I see you later on?"
"Absolutely."
"And we can discuss that dinosaur you keep clipped to your belt? Because I cannot believe we haven't discussed it before now."
He glanced down at the pager in his hand. "'Dinosaur', huh? I take it they don't have these in the magical future?"
Suzannah laughed. "They weigh too much for the hover cars, you know."
He rolled his eyes. "I know for a fact they don't have hover cars... do they?"
"Nah. No hover cars yet. We just moved on and everyone has smartphones now. Like those big bulky cell phones you guys have. Except better."
He chuckled and clipped said 'dinosaur' back to his belt. "Okay, I really do have to go now. But I want to hear more about smartphones later. Also, I figured I'd try to get in some spelunking." He winked.