Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dylan… I will—I promise.”

Four years have passed since that horrendous incident.

Regina combed through her short red locks and fixed her brown eyes again on the multitude of documents before her. The research on Third Energy was thorough, but nearly impossible for her to understand.

After the events that took place near Edward City all those years ago, Regina was pulled away from any missions with S.O.R.T, having been asked to stay back and complete paperwork and essentially undertake a desk job. As much as she was itching to get back onto the field and complete operative assignments for the betterment of the world, she was also plagued with nightmares and night terrors about what she had witnessed and experienced.

Her employers knew about Dylan Morton, knew about what he had asked Regina to do, but they knew that continuing to tamper with time and its continuum would have drastic effects on the world as they knew it.

Regina understood that—or at least, wanted to.

But after all the paperwork was typed, filed, checked by Gail; she would linger in her office and sift through the research on Third Energy, hoping that one day the mass of numbers and formulas would click.

“I know you don’t want to, but you have to go back by yourself.”

“You still in here, Regina?” Rick walked through the door to her office with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He surveyed her desk and saw the maze of papers and her frantic handwriting in red ink. Her head was on the table, her arms being used as a makeshift pillow. Rick eyed the time on his watch and sighed.

He began thumbing through the paperwork on her desk, careful not to disturb her; however, nothing could slip past her. She jolted upright, hand immediately reaching for the ghost of where she once kept her pistol strapped to her thigh. Her fingers wiggled around aimlessly for the metallic feel of the weapon, for the familiar weight of its handle in her hand before she blinked up at her partner and furrowed her brow.

“Rick,” she huffed, sitting back down on the office chair and shaking her head. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He ran a hand through his braided hair, shrugging. “I had to come in early.”

She eyed the clock, realizing how late it was and how desperately she needed sleep. She stifled the yawn that was crawling up her throat. “It’s almost 3 AM. What do you mean early?”

“By early, I mean check on you.” He leaned over her desk and found her cellphone underneath a stack of papers. “I tried calling and texting and was worried you were probably working yourself sick.”

Regina bit her lip, knowing her unhealthy work habits.

“Any leads?”

She nodded her head to the stack of papers that were full of codes she hadn’t yet deciphered.

Rick pulled up another chair next to hers and the two began working together in silence. She trusted Rick the most out of any of her comrades. She enjoyed the banter, the way he looked after her during their mission on Ibis Island. Regina would never forget the lengths he went into making sure her and Gail were safe.

“I’m going to save him, y’know.”

He laughed. “Oh, I know.”

 “I don’t care how long it takes me.”

“Yes, Regina—you made a promise.”

“Just go, please. You have the Third Energy data, right? When you get back to our original time, use the data to learn about Third Energy, then build a perfect gate and come pick us up from the last time.”          

Regina could recall that look of pure dedication on Dylan’s face when she turned around one final time, a split-second decision on whether or not she herself should stay behind too. The sacrificial moment had left as quick as it came, and she understood what Dylan was asking of her. He trusted her, and she wouldn’t let anyone ever question their trust for the other.

At this current moment, however, she knew that Dylan and the young girl were dead. As time continued to push forward, Dylan Morton would cease to exist. Parts of Regina wished that she made Dylan’s persona up, that there was no T.R.A.T member that accompanied her through Edward City and helped her escape the land overran by dinosaurs.

But she held onto it.

A small necklace with a turquoise charm. Dylan had said the necklace belonged to his sister when they were on the brink of discovering the data disk. When they were defending themselves from the angry triceratops in the Jeep, and the car overturned, the necklace had once again slipped out and landed in the tall grass. She saw the glint of the metal fly past her vision, the sun hitting it just right. In any other instance, she would’ve ignored something like a piece of jewelry, but after hearing the backstory and sentiment it carried, she picked it up with every intention of giving it back to Dylan. But when the velociraptors ambushed them and David came to their rescue, Regina never found a time to fork over the necklace.

And now, she was lucky to have it in her possession. It was her reminder that Dylan was real, and that she had a promise to keep. He deserved to have the necklace back.

She closed the box that kept the necklace and pushed it back into her dresser’s drawer.

She heard faint knocking coming from the front door of her condo. She closed the drawer and tiptoed into her living room. People didn’t come over, and if they did, it was always planned. She was never into people coming into her space, not now and she didn’t think she ever would. Regina peered down at her loungewear, a grey t-shirt and a pair of black gym shorts hugging her athletic frame.

Without even getting the chance to fully disengage the locks, the front door was being pushed open and she was left in a state of vulnerability.

“Hell, Gail!” she threw her arms out, vestiges of her prior training still bubbling within her. They could take woman out of S.O.R.T, but they couldn’t take S.O.R.T out of the woman.

“What the hell are you doing snooping through the data on Third Energy?” Gail groaned, pushing past her. “You realize all of that information is classified, yes?”

“I can’t do this tonight,” she pinched her brow and lifted a wary eye to the buzzed headed blonde. “How did you find out?”

“Rick is a terrible liar.”

She huffed.

“I came in early and saw him working at your desk. It finally clicked why I’ve been seeing you two moseying around for the last few months.”

“Moseying around?”

“I got the impression you two were dating, but somehow, knowing what you really are doing would make me much more pleased to know if you two were seeing one another.”

She snorted. “Oh, you know I could never take away Rick from you like that.”

She watched as his ears turned pink. “Cut that out.”

Regina crossed over to her small kitchenette, leaning her elbows down on the countertop where a stack of papers sat. Untouched mail, unopened bills, countless magazines all thrown into a messy pile. With her eyes trained on the jumble of papers, she let out a breathless sigh. When she left things unattended, that’s when she knew she was getting restless. She should’ve known there was something up when Rick would catch her snoozing at her job when she wasn’t even on the clock.

“Look,” Gail warned, “These are our jobs we’re talking about.”

“I understand that—”

“No, Regina, you don’t.” Gail’s voice was thick with ice. “If the higherups end up finding out what you’re doing, you’ll be terminated. I’ll be terminated.”

The redhead combed through her short locks, pushing her bangs out of her face. “I’m the one who is doing the sneaking around.” She drummed her fingernails on the counter and shook her head. “I’m going to save him. When I finally save Dylan and that young girl, they’re going to know I was tampering with Third Energy. If they want to fire me after that, fine.”

“When you save him.” Gail muttered, repeating her. “It’s been four years, Regina.”

“Yeah, it has.”

She could see the gears turning in his head. “You won’t quit then.”

Regina looked annoyed. He knew her better than this.

Gail pressed his weight into the counter, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a hell of a solider, Regina.”

Something turned in her insides at the comment. She wasn’t sure if Gail had ever complimented her until now.

“I wish you were back on the frontlines with us.”

She eyed her teammate. Two compliments in one night was strange and she had the urge to tell him to shut it because the last thing she needed was to blush in front of her superior.

She pressed her lips together. “Not that you haven’t read that lengthy ass report I wrote about the incident, but Dylan had my back. We saved each other’s lives. David risked his life for the both of us. I’m going back in time for thirty seconds, if that, to save him and his future daughter. He would do the same for me.”

The lieutenant regarded her for a moment. Regina and Rick had always valued the lives of others—which he admired, but never could do for himself. Gail had always put the mission’s objective before anything else. The decisions he had made back on Ibis Island easily could’ve gotten himself killed—he didn’t want to go back to that time. He currently was standing where he was because of Regina and Rick. They went back for him, they saved him, too.

He knew better than to question the savior complex that plagued his two teammates, because part of that complex started staining him too.

Chapter Text

“The name’s Dylan! Call me that when you need some help, okay?”

Despite knowing that Dylan Morton ceased to exist in their current time and was relocated to a temporary desk job, Regina still hurled her fists into the punching bag as if she would engage in hand-to-hand combat with those that once lived in the cretaceous period.

The blip of time that she needed to return to should only take thirty seconds, but knowing her ridiculous luck, something out of the ordinary could happen and she would be transported back to her and Dylan’s first encounter with the tyrannosaurus rex after they fled camp and rolled down that steep hill that left one nasty bruise on her coccyx.

She raised a gloved hand to her tailbone, remembering the surge of pain that shot through her when they tumbled down that hill. Her other hand came toward her ribcage—when the plesiosaurus sent her flying off the platform in the underwater facility. How she never managed to become a dinosaur’s dinner on Ibis Island or in Edward City was beyond her, she knew she escaped by the skin of her teeth.

Regina unstrapped the boxing gloves from her hands and tossed them to the floor, sweat beading her brow as she reached for her water bottle.

There were nights when she would close her eyes and could still see that one-eyed t-rex crush David in one bite. The king of the dinosaurs enacted its revenge on her comrade when David previously blew out its eye with a rocket. She wished she could block out the sound of David’s bones crunching under the heavy mouth of that monster, but when the night went dark and she was alone in her condo, sometimes that was all she could hear.

The pleas of both her and Dylan reverberating through her skull.

But then the t-rex died too. She got some satisfaction watching that unfold before she herself had to face off against the giganotosaurus.

 “You still in here?”

Regina whirled her head around to find Rick dressed in his gym clothes. The black compression shirt hugged his torso, his dreads pulled back in a low pony.

“I thought I saw you come in here earlier.”

The redhead chugged her water.

Rick frowned, tugged his duffle bag closer to his chest and rummaged through it. He pulled out a protein bar, offering it to her.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Take it.” He urged, pushing the wrapper into her hands. “When was the last time you ate?”

She secured the bar in her hand, not feeling up for a fight and eyed the time on the clock in S.O.R.T’s gym. She recalled the last bit of food she had, which might’ve been over twenty-four hours ago, and she didn’t remember if it was macaroni and cheese or if it was the lone bag of chips she had laying around her condo.

She found herself peeling back the wrapper, grateful that there was someone in her life that was keeping an eye on her health.  She bit into the protein bar—it wasn’t any good, but she knew she was approaching hour three in the gym and nearly anything with calories would do her justice.

Despite the overpowering flavor of chalk and artificial chocolate coating her tongue, she couldn’t help but feel the tug of a smile at her mouth.

“How long has it been?” Rick asked again.

She chewed a little more. “Probably over twenty-four hours.”

“Regina—”

“Rick, stop.” She took another bite. “I know.”

“That’s it, I’m swinging by your place tonight with a hot meal.”

“You don’t know where I live.”

“My entire job is to hack databases,” he laughed, nearly sounding offended. “You don’t think I can find out where you live?”

“No, but that kinda seems against your principles.”

“We’ve been snooping through Third Energy data and committing a crime at our own job; you think me finding an address to your condo would be what crosses the line?”

He had a point.

“Besides,” he waved a hand. “I had a breakthrough.”

Her ears perked. “Yeah? Like what?”

“There was a hidden folder on the disk. It was tucked away deep in other files. Those codes and formulas we’ve been mulling over for the last year finally make a little sense.”

“None of those codes make fucking sense.” Regina pinched her brow, feeling the onset of the familiar headache that plagued her whenever she had to be reminded that she had to build a time gate to save her partner.

“And now they do. A little.”

“Anything promising?”

“I’ll show you later.” He grinned. “So, you’re either going to give me your address or I’m going to search the database for it. Your call.”

Regina frowned but ultimately gave him her address. Regina never confided to Rick about what she was doing until last year, and Rick always had her back.

They had that history. She was slowly starting to realize there were people who could care just as much as her.

That’s why she made that promise to Dylan, because she would hope that someone would come to her aid if everything went to hell and she would cease to exist too.

“Hey, what took you so long?”

“Gail knows, by the way.”

Rick lifted his fork mid-bite, his tikka masala dangling off the prongs. “He cornered you, too?”

Regina picked up the brown beer bottle and kept chugging down its contents until her throat began to burn from the carbonation. She set the bottle down, eyeing her yellow curry that was far too spicy for her to handle. “Last night. He came to my place, too.”

“Oh, so he can rifle through the data to find your address, but when I do, my integrity is questioned?”

She felt herself smile, a feeling that at one point was beginning to feel foreign to her.

The truth was, the three of them had all at one point been a strong unit. Their mission all those years ago gave them the ultimate rite of passage into being in each other’s lives forever. Despite them not all being as close as they once were, there was no denying the history between them all.

"Shut up and finish your beer. I’m getting another one.” She hiked herself off the barstool and walked over to her kitchen. She pried open the refrigerator door and winced at what was piled on the shelves, somewhat thankful that Rick hadn’t brought over groceries for him to see the state her fridge was in. Last week, she made the effort to finally throw away the molded produce in the bottom levels, but she hadn’t made a trip to the store since.

Besides the near empty six pack of beer laying idly on the shelf, all that was in the fridge were expired eggs and old boxes of takeout. She had an intense workout regimen, and she knew she was in great shape—being part of an espionage organization would do that to one’s body—but her body was being fueled by the bare minimum.

And it wasn’t like she was living like this for the past four years. Her edginess and uncaring nature only began a few months ago, but she knew the toll it was taking on her body was apparent.

Enough to have Rick shove protein bars in her face and bring Indian cuisine over.

She wondered if he saw the dark circles under her eyes, the sunken cheeks, the lifeless hair. She was a walking shell of herself.

Rick heeded her advice and downed his beer, shoving more mouthfuls of tikka masala into his face.

“What did Gail say to you?”

Rick laughed. “Say? Or yell?”

Regina plopped back down on the barstool, cracking open two more bottles and sliding one over to her former partner. “Whatever he did, what did he have to say?”

“That our jobs are at stake.”

“Already heard that one.”

“That he wants in.”

Regina lifted her eyebrow in contempt.

“He knows you and I aren’t going to quit.” He said. “Ever think that maybe he’s tired of seeing you be the way you are?”

“Being the way I am,” she muttered, “Like what?”

He gestured to her overall state. “Don’t make me answer that.”

Regina wasn’t going to deny anything that Rick said about her, but she was wondering if he would have the gall to say it to her face. And in typical Rick fashion—he didn’t.

“So, I’m just letting you know, he’s on his way.”

“Gail?” she asked. “You invited him over to my place?”

“Regina,” he groaned, “Listen, we were the best unit S.O.R.T ever had. I don’t agree with their new assignment for you behind that desk; you are the best soldier that has entered the program, don't tell Gail that. But let’s look at this logically, we escaped Ibis Island because of everything we contributed. You, me, and Gail. The three of us...” he trailed off, and she knew it was because Cooper was at one point added into their mix. He let out a long sigh. “Survived and conquered because of how we worked. We might’ve had our disagreements, but no one could’ve done what we did that night.”

“We’re a team. We’ve always been a team.” She stared at the rolling droplets of condensation on her beer bottle. She knew he was right. No trio could ever live up to what they had accomplished. The accolades for their bravery and courage earned them high honors—earned Regina a new title that she carried during her mission in Edward City.

“With Gail’s influence in S.O.R.T, imagine what he could help us with.”

And as if on cue, the door pounded.

“… don’t let me down. Over and out.”

Regina sprinted through the thick abyss of the jungle. She ducked behind a large barrel, pulling her knees to her chest and reloading the magazine into her handgun. She eyed the new cut on her arm, a pool of blood dripping down the length.

"God damn,” she hissed, turning over a health pack and emptying its contents. Regina peeked behind her, thanking the moon and stars the velociraptor was busy chomping on a dead body. She spritzed the medicinal spray over her cut and winced, the stinging sensation spreading over the exposed flesh and causing her to sink her teeth down into her bottom lip.

Regina kicked away the empty medicine kit and brought herself to stand, the fresh gauze wrapped tightly around her arm in a makeshift tourniquet. She surveyed the bridge that wobbled with each step she took, knowing the velociraptors that were hiding out and waiting to ambush her were bound to spring to life once they saw her dash across the structure.

“Dylan, come in! Over!” Regina said into the transceiver, holding her gun at a crook with it pointed toward the clear sky.

“Regina, where are you? Over.”

Regina sighed. Hearing his commanding voice over the line gave her imminent relief.

“What’s your status? Regina! Over!”

“I’m near the control ship, maybe ten minutes out from it. Over.”

“Me, too. But Paula’s been hurt. Over.”

Something sank in Regina’s stomach. They were constantly beaten and battered out here. So, when someone mentioned that someone was hurt, it typically meant that it was severe and required immediate medical attention.

She glanced at the bandage on her arm. “Where are you? Let me help. Over.”

“I don’t think she’s going to make it. Over.”

Regina shut her eyes—too many people have lost their lives out here. Lives that they were meant to save. She couldn’t bear to know there would be another casualty that could end up on their hands.

"That t-rex is back out here, too. I need you to go to the control ship, Regina. You need to get out. And look, I’m not taking no for an answer. Over.”

“Are you crazy?” she knew she sounded exasperated; that those three words might have been the most emotion Dylan would ever hear in her voice.

“Just go, please.”

Regina sprung up from her bed, sweat clinging to her skin and each breath stuttering out of her mouth. She reached for chest, tightening the fabric to her t-shirt in her hand and feeling the thrums of her beating heart. She familiarized herself with her surroundings in her bedroom, realizing that everything was exactly how she left it.

Out of habit, she looked down at her arm that she patched up in her dream. No cut, no tourniquet, no Dylan telling her to leave him again.

These dreams had plagued her for years. Each its own rendition of their time out in the jungle, in Edward City, in the habitat support facility. Despite there always being something wrong in her dreams, the worst ones were the ones where Dylan was rescued.

They came few and far between. Sometimes, they were in the gate development lab and the fixture hadn’t fallen onto Paula. Sometimes it was just Dylan and Regina, enjoying the company of one another without any of the guilt or the memories that inundated them.

She lowered herself back down onto the bed, ignoring the cold sweat that stuck to her skin with her soaked bedsheets.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this. She needed to save him.

Chapter Text

“Calm down, I’m here to help you—just, calm down.”

Regina stepped out of the four-story building with another breathing technique that she could’ve searched for online if she cared enough to invest more time into herself. However, four years in therapy probably was helping in more ways than she realized. It was funded by S.O.R.T, and they stuck her in a program once they realized Regina was becoming manic about leaving behind a comrade, even if that comrade was part of a completely different organization. At least she wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably anymore and haunted by the screams of those that fell in Edward City.

Now, the dreams—those were different.

She actually enjoyed the monthly one-hour sessions she had with her therapist. It served as a reminder that there was something stable in her life, and that there was someone who was willing to pick apart the part of her brain that she was too scared to pick apart herself.

She confessed to her therapist that she hadn’t been sleeping. Or at least, the sleep was piss poor. If she wasn’t woken up by a nightmare, she was falling into a panic about why she was incapable of learning about Third Energy despite having the entire study in front of her. Regina was always good at school; she graduated summa cum laude. But what she was studying now was different, it was vortexes and time continuums, it was a lengthy plot that required an inquisitive mind that Regina wasn’t sure she had.

Hence, the new breathing technique.

Her therapist called it dragon’s breath, and she was supposed to take a deep inhale through her nose, and then forcefully exhale. They practiced together during their session together, and now Regina felt herself completing the exercise as she paced back to her car that was parked at a metered spot that was sure to expire any minute.

She barreled into her car and sighed. Suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder was one thing because most of her teammates had it, finding coping mechanisms to aid the pain, but the onset of panic attacks was a new development.

Her phone began ringing and she mashed a few buttons to get the call transferred over to her car’s radio. “What?”

“I take it therapy went well.”

“What do you need, Rick?”

He tittered. “Are we not meeting up today?”

Regina sighed, wondering if she would use the dragon’s breath technique earlier than she anticipated.

“No?”

“When are you and Gail leaving?”

“Leaving for what?”

“Cut the shit, Rick.” She mumbled. “I know that you two are heading out to Vienna soon. What’s out there?”

“Regina—”

“It’s fine. I just—I just want to know.”

“Apparently that’s where the Kirk’s are hiding out.”

“Jesus,” she groaned, running a hand down her face. “When are you both stationed to leave?”

“Next month.”

Regina pulled her lips in and reclined her head back to fully rest against the headrest. Rumors had been running amuck about Edward Kirk and his wife being just as crazy as him. They had worked on Third Energy research together and that in itself was dangerous, knowing at one point the data was weaponized. It was no wonder that the best veteran spy and lead hacker in S.O.R.T were tasked to snuff out their whereabouts.

If only they wanted the weapons specialist back. Maybe it was good she wasn’t needed—it wasn’t like the dinosaurs were running rampant in Austria.

She knocked on the center console in her car. It had a small streak of wood paneling and she considered that to be good enough to not tempt fate.

“Gail and I are coming over.”

“Don’t.”

“Look, I can handle Gail being an asshole, but not you. You’re doing that thing where you shut us out again. If it’s because we’re going on a mission, it’s nothing to worry about. All we’re doing is scoping out the area because of some new intel.”

Even though she was on the phone and he couldn’t see her face, Rick was always good at picking up her voice’s inflection. She thought she was being deadpan, but nothing could get past Rick.

The truth was, the thought of them going out on a mission and her never seeing them again hung heavy in the air. The two were fantastic at their jobs, that much was evident. But so was she, so was Lieutenant Morton. And four years later she was still rifling through data on how to build the perfect gate to go in and rescue him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”

Regina’s condominium looked unrecognizable. The condo always looked a little, unlived. A couch that was rarely sat on, a kitchen that looked brand new and staged if it was still on the market, a guest bedroom with unused furniture that collected dust. She hadn’t remembered the last time she went into the guest bedroom; the door had been shut for over a year, but now, the door was wide open and Rick was emerging from it with a look of panic.

“Christ, woman.” He chastised, “When was the last time you been in here?”

Regina shrugged, glancing at the dead flowers sitting in the vase and wondering if that’s where the smell was coming from.

“You know, if you actually opened a window, it might not smell like an old woman lives here.”

Regina grabbed the vase and brought a cautious nose up to her line of scent. The smell was coming from the dead flowers. “I am.”

“We’re thirty, don’t you dare say that’s old.”

She pushed the withered flowers into the trash and started running the faucet.

Rick thought aloud. “Now, Gail, he looks older than his real age.”

“I look what?” the blonde emerged from the bathroom, wearing his stone-cold expression that could command entire rooms with a single once over.

It had been three weeks since Gail had interjected and wanted to be part of the project in rescuing both Dylan and Paula. During the beginning, it had been odd for the three of them to work together. After years of working for the same organization, years of building team chemistry, years of being known as the golden trio of varying ability—the true testament was them being able to sit for more than five minutes without yelling at one another.

It was clear Gail preferred working alone, and any instruction given by Regina or Rick would earn them grunts of disapproval. Gail was not book smart and Rick clearly had the upper hand, and he had no problem voicing the advantage. Regina could understand why Rick would tease, because years of their service in S.O.R.T was Gail leading the two of them, and often it wasn’t in the friendliest way.

She also never had seen Gail sit, or at least, sit still. He would sit on the stool for a moment, and then he would stand, rocking back and forth on his heels, and then he would pace around the kitchen island before settling into the same spot on the stool only to repeat the process fifteen more times.

There was something comforting in seeing Gail’s inability to sit. It took her back in time five years ago when they were about to deploy onto Ibis Island, and he couldn’t sit on the bench in the helicopter. He messed with his parachute, his gear; ensured that his comms was working and would radio in Regina despite the roaring winds of the outside when they were 15,000 feet in the sky. She remembered it all a little too fondly, and so did her heart.

Regina visibly shook her head at the thought. God, she hadn’t entertained that crush in years. She never came forward and confessed because it was inappropriate, and it was Gail. She would’ve rather pulled her teeth out with pliers or kick a door with a nail under her toenail than tell Gail she had a small crush on him.

And she was ridiculously good at hiding it.

“You look old.” Rick confirmed, moving toward the sink and opening the window, an immediate breeze entering the condo.

Watching Rick in action was a treasure. The clacking of keys on a keyboard became the normal sound in Regina’s home, and she would’ve been lying if she said that she began to hate the eeriness of the quiet when he wasn’t around. Despite his small frame, he took up a lot of space. His giant computer was perched at one end, but his notes were at another. He had a mountain of folders that were constantly rifled through, some on the dining table and some on the coffee table in the living room. Rick couldn’t command a room like Gail could, or even Regina, but Rick could analyze and hack just about anything if he wanted to—and that was easily more terrifying.

“I’m thirty-nine, I didn’t know that makes me old.”

“Well, you’re older than us.” Rick laughed, grabbing a pencil from the counter and sticking it behind his ear.

“If I’m such an old bastard then, then maybe you youngins don’t need any of this.” Gail rummaged through a reusable grocery bag that had a picture of a puppy on it; something out of character for him. But Regina was willing to bet he didn’t even look at the design and only thought about the practicality of having the bag itself.

“What you got there, ‘cap?” Rick wiggled his bushy eyebrows at him.

“Twenty-year-old whiskey.”

“Oh, lord.” He laughed. “He was tired of the Budlight, Regina.”

“Didn’t take you for a whiskey guy.” She surveyed. 

“Don’t think you take me for anything.” Gail said laconically.

But his eyes met hers for a split moment and there was a bit of humor behind the glance. The familiar warmth of their prior friendship bubbled within her.

Even though they were in Regina’s home, Rick helped himself to whatever. She liked it though; that someone else knew the layout of her home and felt comfortable enough to do as they pleased—like open windows and comment on the smells.

Maybe she wasn’t as cold as she convinced herself to be.

“Really? We are about to give up, where are you?”

The whiskey helped calm everyone down, helped get them through three hours of data mining, helped because both Regina and Rick didn’t think they had ever heard Gail laugh.

But then the whiskey was working against them, because Rick voiced he was bound to strategize better if he was horizontal. He took his bright manila folder over to the stiff, rarely been sat in sofa, plopped down, and instantly fell asleep. The light snores coming from Rick had Gail glowering, but Regina was feeling the effects of the liquor herself, so she was in no room to begin judging.

Gail swirled the dark liquor in his glass but never took a sip, his trained eyes scanning over a mess of numbers.

Regina stared back at her near-empty glass perched on the counter. She was unfocused, hardly giving any thought to Third Energy for the past thirty minutes. The leaves outside were beginning to change their colors, and a new season was upon them. It would only be a matter of time before they all fell off and the city would be overtaken by swarms of branches and cold chills.

As much as she appreciated the fact her and Gail weren’t in disagreement about something, the silence between them felt much odder. It was routine to be at each other’s throats, comments laced with quips and eyes that were sent to the backs of their heads. The stillness they shared now was unwelcome.

“Regina,” Gail didn’t bother lowering the volume of his voice despite Rick snoozing a mere ten feet away from them.

She lifted her tired eyes to acknowledge him.

“A lot of time has passed.”

She couldn’t miss the way some of those syllables slurred.

“We never addressed this.” He ran a scarred hand back and forth over his buzz cut.

“Addressed what?”

“Those romantic feelings you had.”

She blanched.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Gail,” she warned, “What are you doing right now?”

“It’s been a long time since Ibis Island.” Gail continued to swirl the liquor in his glass. “I felt similarly after the mission. I didn’t know how to address it.” He waved his hand in the air.  “Headstrong and all.”

She was confident that her face was rivaling the color of her hair.

“I’m only telling you this now because you know how these missions go. Guess I mean you know how they go when I’m at the head of them.”

“Are you talking about Vienna?” Regina asked, staring at her glass and wondering whether or not she should down it all in one gulp.

He nodded, leaning forward in the stool. “It didn’t feel right to leave here without you knowing that I felt it too.”

“What are you trying to accomplish here?”

“Because I can’t turn back time and tell you how I felt five years ago.”

She swallowed, hard.

“Back then it would’ve been inappropriate considering my rank. I was unofficially your superior.”

Regina grimaced. Of course, the one second she thought about her non-platonic feelings for the other, he comes out and says it was mutual. She had feelings for him during Ibis Island. She had them after Ibis Island. Despite the fact she exuded confidence and knew she was an attractive woman, she lacked the skills involving anything that revolved around romantic partnerships.

Even thinking about feelings that weren’t platonic made her squirm. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Gail immediately noticed the change in her demeanor. “Am I out of line?”

“No.”

Gail threw the rest of the liquor back without so much as a grimace, almost like the beverage wasn’t strong and didn’t taste like smoked oak.

“Junior and I are leaving for Vienna in two days.” He announced, lifting a finger to the raised scar that permanently was etched into his cheek. “Knowing we’re out tracking Kirk pisses me off. Knowing you won’t be with us pisses me off even more.”

Hearing the nickname Gail coined Rick with made her insides twist.

“When you go back and save Lieutenant Morton,” he affirmed with a nod of his head, sounding far too sure that would be the outcome. “You be sure that you understand the repercussions of what you’re doing.”

“You think I haven’t considered that?”

He let out a gruff laugh with no humor laced in it. “I’m sure you have. You’re going on your own mission too. Neither Rick or I are gonna be there to make sure you stay safe. If something happens to you on account of this Dylan guy, don’t think I won’t use that gate to come in there and kick his ass.”

“And potentially destroy humanity?” she asked, “Why are you worried about me right now? You two are the ones who are leaving.”

“Because we’re not messing with time. You are. You will be.” He grimaced. “Anything could happen to me on the Vienna mission, but there’s more at stake when you go back in time and save this guy. I’m not gonna have it on my conscience that I never told you how I felt.”

“God, Gail,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. “We had these feelings five years ago. You’re right, it would’ve been inappropriate.”

He nodded. “I agree. But if something happens to me, or Rick, or you—” he paused, pulling his thin lips in. “Well, I don’t want to entertain the thought, but I at least thought I owed it to you to know that I had seen you as something more than just another agent part of S.O.R.T.”

“I’m never letting you bring whiskey into my house again.”

He huffed. “Don’t be like that.”

“Gail—”

“Regina,” he interrupted, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. But you have it in your head that you are this untouchable and unlovable person and you’ve been acting this way for the past year. You’re a hell of an agent and a hell of a woman. I was stupid for not saying something back when I was thirty-four, and I would like to believe I’m a little wiser at thirty-nine. That’s all I’m trying to do here.”

Her cheeks warmed at the sentiment. “Gail—I, thank you.”

He offered her a tight-lipped smile.