How It's Done
Author's Notes: Please see notes at the end of the story for who and what the inspiration for this little ditty was! Hope to see you all tomorrow at the wondrous Timeless Reunion/Cast read of Hollywoodland!
"So that's how you do it…" he breathed.
Wyatt started, unaware he'd spoken out loud. Whoops. Busted. He pushed off the doorframe where he'd been leaning and straightened his stance, hastily replying "Uh, nothing."
Lucy pointedly laid the little tub of face mask she was holding down onto the bathroom counter and turned to face her husband. Face covered in a weird green tinged goo, draped in baggy pyjamas, she made quite the sight. But when a carefully shaped eyebrow rose up her forehead, Wyatt gulped. She could be fiercely intimidating in even the strangest of circumstances. He wasn't sure he was going to get out of this. He tried to shrug nonchalantly.
"Really, it's nothing."
She just kept looking at him.
"Just a random train of thought!"
A little crease appeared at the corner of her eyes, the skepticism rising. How could he boldface lie to presidents and criminals throughout history, but not to this one, wee professor? The pressure in the room was building to a palpable presence.
"Your face!" he finally blurted. Then clamped his mouth shut and said no more.
Lucy's brow sank down into a furrowed frown as her arms crossed across her pyjama clad chest. "My face?"
"I mean, well, I…" spluttered the man.
To his wife's amazement, his cheeks started to redden. Her hardened soldier was blushing.
Wyatt finally gave a self-deprecating laugh and scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck.
"Your face," he mumbled again.
"What about it?"
Her spine stiffened. "It's what?"
Lucy knew she wasn't getting any younger. And she'd been chronically sleep deprived since the girls had arrived, the bags measurably deepening by the week, but…
Her spiralling chain of thoughts stopped short. It was her turn to splutter. "It's what?"
"Perfect," Wyatt breathed again, a little haze softening his bright blue eyes.
It was Lucy's turn to blush, a tinge of pink visible even beneath the mask. "Oh…"
"I mean," he took a step towards her. "Your skin is so clear. Flawless."
As her blush deepened his confidence grew, and he further lessened the gap between them.
"I swear in certain light, you glow."
She had to break eye contact with him at that.
"And it's so soft," he proclaimed with wonder, moving right into her space, inches away. His hand rose up, as if of it's own volition. "Sometimes I can't help but need to touch you."
With a gentle reverence, his hand cupped the back of her neck, right under her ear, as his thumb swiped along her cheekbone.
Right through the green goo that covered it.
Unbidden, a giggle rose up Lucy's throat and broke free, half amusement, half a silly, love-struck sound. Wyatt responded instinctively, his own face breaking out with joy at the sight of Lucy's happiness. Before they knew it they were keeling over the counter with laughter.
"Oh Wyatt," she finally wheezed when she could breathe again. "How did I ever find you?"
"Find who? A broken soldier with a terrible past who can't flirt?"
She growled as she always did when he self-deprecated. "A man who can somehow find me, an emotional disaster of an exhausted, stressed, frumpy, PJ clad green goblin, anything close to, I quote, "flawless."
Wyatt shrugged, signature smirk adorning his own rather flawless features as his hands gathered up her waist. "I'm just a simple soldier. I call it as I see it, Ma'am."
She rolled her eyes as her arms gravitated to wrapping around his shoulders, hands playing with the short, fuzzy hair at the nape of his neck. The first few months after finally, finally getting together for good had been a whirlwind unlike any she'd ever experienced. The shock of finally having beaten Rittenhouse, of returning to the present day forever, of being free, of being with him… the time had passed in a glorious, mad haze of "making up for lost time." She'd never felt more beautiful, feminine, desired, confident. Then they'd found out about the girls, and time had flown by in a whole different way. And then the girls arrived and things were crazier than ever. The intimacy they'd been enjoying daily (several times) had dwindled and essentially stopped at a rapid pace. She could admit, only to herself, that she was no longer as confident with herself, and Wyatt's desire for her, post-twins.
She tried not to let the insecurity show as she asked, "Even the swamp witch I am right now?"
His head tilted back as he full on laughed out loud.
"Lucy… if you're a swamp witch then every other woman on earth is the ugly toad you cursed."
It seemed she hadn't had anything to worry about.
His voice softened. "Seriously. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever, and will ever, have laid eyes on in my life."
She blamed deep fatigue for the way her eyes misted over, just a little bit.
"Even if I now know it's all a lie, and only because of artificial facial products."
"Hey now!" she exclaimed, slapping him on the chest even as he laughed and assured her it was a joke.
"I rarely ever get the chance to do them."
"Yeah, we are rather busy these days."
"And I'll have you know this mask is all natural!" she harrumphed.
"Oh, Lucy," he smirked as the hands on her hips slipped down to her backside. "I know."
The hand slipped under the waistband to squeeze. She gasped.
"You, in your natural glory, is just fine by me."
Her heart rate started to speed as his hands started to move. Her eyelids fluttered as he leaned in, the scent of him pervading her senses and making her flush all over. But at the last second he pulled back.
"But to save the pillowcases, maybe you should wash that mask off first…"
The bathroom echoed with the peal of her laughter.
Inspired 100% by JessicaJohnso73 , and her wild world of being the multi-masking master. Abigail Spencer's face/skin really IS absolutely perfect, you have to admit. There's GOT to be some regime behind it. Maybe Lucy has a lil one too! You know though, no matter what she looks like, Wyatt is gonna looooove her no matter what. Sigh.
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