Present Time

The Lifeboat returned to the padded landing room. Rufus was still enamored over the simple fact that the Lifeboat didn't make the clanking sound upon landing anymore. He was giddy with the idea of the Lifeboat finding a soft place to rest.

They climbed out of the Lifeboat, Flynn helping Wyatt. Denise eyed them. "What happened?"

Flynn led Wyatt toward the infirmary, brushing by Denise. "It's quite the story."

Denise followed the group across the large bunker to the infirmary, her dark eyes rolling slightly. "Well, I am on the edge of my seat."

Flynn helped Wyatt sit on the exam table, glancing around the room. "Where's Tenley?"

Jiya said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder, "She's in her room. She hasn't come out for a while."

Flynn's jaw tensed as he narrowed his eyes at her. "And no one thought to check on her?" He brushed by them toward Tenley's room, frustrated no one bothered to see if she was okay, to make sure she was still in this new bunker. Memories of her leaving to meet with his brother, Gabriel or Tim as she knew him by, came rushing back to him. He hoped she was okay.

He approached her bedroom door and knocked on it somewhat gently. "Nine?" He knocked again, this time, an urgency behind it. "Nine? Are you in there?" He heard subtle movements on the other side of the door before she opened it. His brows drew together as he stared deep into her dark eyes. His mouth parted on their own accord. There was a sense of familiarity behind her wide eyes as she stared up at him - a familiarity he hadn't seen in quite some time. "Nine?" he slowly started to ask, his eyes studying her expression. "Are you okay?"

Her dark eyes bounced around his face, examining him, almost taking in every detail of his being as if she hadn't seen him in years - like she was memorizing him. She seemed to be searching for something behind his stunned expression. Her mouth parted and her chest rose and fell in quick succession.

He opened his mouth to ask her another question but never got the chance - she jumped into his arms, lips crashing against his as she pulled him closer into her unexpected and unforeseen kiss.

He grabbed the doorframe with both hands to stabilize them before wrapping his long arms around her waist once he was firmly planted on his feet. His lips moved against hers with ease, relishing in the familiar feeling of her soft lips on his. She gripped the hair on the back of his head, pulling him closer to her.

Flynn's mind froze as he remembered Wyatt and his need for medical attention. He set her down on the ground, forcing himself to pull away from her. He sighed as they stared at one another, neither wanting to part. It killed him to end this encounter when he wanted nothing more than to reacquaint himself with her privately. "...Uh..." he swallowed, licking his lips and tasting her vanilla lip balm, "I...I want to talk about this later but..." he motioned with his hand toward the infirmary, "we need your help with Wyatt first."

Emotions washed over her from stunned to embarrassment, to seriousness. She closed her door behind her as she rushed toward the infirmary. Flynn stood there for a moment, watching her. He blinked away his confusion as he trailed behind her, gathering his composure as he walked.

When Flynn and Tenley entered the infirmary, Lucy had finished informing Agent Christopher about what took place in 1877. Denise asked, "So, do we know anything about the man who kidnapped the singer?"

Wyatt groaned. "Me." All eyes darted over to him, some shocked, others not. "It was me..."

Mason's mouth fell open as the realization struck him. "Then you're experiencing..."

Tenley's eyes darted over to him. "Experiencing what?"

Mason licked his lips. "We haven't been successful in traveling to a time where we already exist," he explained. "Every time we've tried, they came back...not themselves..." He saw the confusion on her face and tried to explain it a bit better. "Those who went back to a time where they exist experienced some catastrophic damage to their psyche. They never recovered."

Tenley's brows drew together. "You're saying he's not going to survive?"

"It depends on the length of exposure," he admitted. "Some who were only there for moments had... minimal damage."

Tenley nodded slowly. "Okay..." she said, blowing a sigh from her lips. "I need you guys to leave so we can get him into the MRI machine."

"Is that really necessary?" Wyatt groaned. He saw the look on her face, knowing she wouldn't relent, and added, "Never mind...I get it..."

Rufus turned to Jiya. "Do we have a copy of The Phantom of the Opera?"

Jiya cocked her head in thought. "I didn't peg you for a musical guy."

"I'm just curious as to how much has changed," he told her as they filed out of the infirmary. Mason and Denise left behind them but Flynn and Lucy stayed.

Tenley glanced over to them as Lucy asked, her dark eyes lingering on Wyatt with concern, "Can I stay?"

Tenley looked over to Wyatt, giving him the choice. "It's up to you."

"I don't care," he muttered, sidling onto the table for the MRI. Tenley offered a small smile to the worried Lucy as she began her examination of Wyatt.

Rufus and Jiya watched The Phantom of the Opera but found hardly any changes to the story which disappointed him. His disappointment was short-lived, however, when they watched Sherlock Holmes next and learned that Dr. Watson was a black man. Rufus noticed the character's appearance even looked like him. He laughed when Irene Adler looked like Lucy.

Mason brought a copy of his Phantom of the Opera novel as well as his Sherlock Holmes complete series out upon Rufus's request. Rufus thumbed through the pages and laughed when he noticed their likenesses were drawn in the pages with their alias' listed as characters.

Rufus was thrilled to discover how many amazing black actors got the chance to become Dr. Watson in the numerous renditions of the character. He felt proud to have created the inspiration for him - much like Bass Reeves should have been.

He read some of the inspirational clippings in the foreword of The Phantom of the Opera and despite them being interesting, he didn't see anything about the team and put it out of his memory.

Hours went by and the others returned to the infirmary to check on the progress on Wyatt. Tenley rubbed her temples, feeling the exhaustion washing over her. Wyatt asked, "So, what's the verdict, doc?"

She sighed, lifting her tired gaze to meet him. "I can't find anything wrong with you." She shrugged and added, "If what Connor says is true, then you better hope you don't run into yourself again because I don't know how much you could take of a repeat visit like that."

Mason crossed his arms over his chest. "Is this the extent of the damage from being around another version of himself for, what? A couple of hours?"

"There's no way of knowing," Flynn admitted. "He said he started having headaches during the performance and he finally collapsed when he was face to face with his future self."

Connor nodded. "There's no way of knowing if his future self experienced anything either..."

Rufus rubbed the back of his neck. "Time travel is giving me a headache."

Tenley sighed. "I think you should be careful from here on out." She glanced up to look at Jiya and Rufus. "Do you still have the transmitter pen?" They exchanged glances before nodding. She added, "I think you need to take it with you and keep an eye on it when it activates. If you start to feel any - and I mean any - headaches, you get out of there." Her eyes drifted to the others. "That goes for all of you."

The group nodded but glanced about each other before turning back to her. They noticed a difference with Tenley that they hadn't seen in a while. None of them spoke up about it.

She turned back to Wyatt. "You need to rest."

"I knew you were going to say that," he groaned. He stood up and sighed. "I agree with you. I'm beat." He nodded his thanks to her before crossing the room over to Lucy. Lucy helped Wyatt out of the infirmary toward their bedroom.

Rufus and Jiya left to watch another version of The Phantom of the Opera. Mason headed to the workshop to tinker with the items that were displayed there. Agent Christopher left to fill out reports to turn in when she was able.

Once everyone left the room, Flynn's eyes locked onto Tenley as she worked to clean up the infirmary. She glanced over her shoulder, catching him in the middle of his stare. "What?"

"We should talk," he told her. She nodded but he shook his head. "Not here. I'd rather we had this conversation privately."

Her eyes drifted to the floor as she thought over his request. "Your room or mine?"

"I'll come to find you after I get cleaned up," he told her. "I need to get out of these clothes." She nodded aimlessly, watching him slip out of the infirmary.

Forty minutes later, Tenley returned to her room. She felt nervous for some reason. There were butterflies in her stomach and she didn't know why. She bit her lip as she paced in her room, waiting for Flynn.

A small knock landed on her door, breaking her concentration. She approached it, swinging it open to see Flynn standing there, his eyes lifting to meet hers, a sparkle lingering behind them. He offered a warm smile as she opened the door wider for him.

He entered her room, his eyes drifting across the inside - it looked similar to his room - clean, simple, warm. He heard the door close behind him and he glanced over his shoulder to see Tenley approach him. She seemed a little on edge.

Flynn licked his lips as he turned to face her. "How are you doing?"

She blinked at him, almost stunned by the question. It had been a while since someone had asked her that in this manner. "I...I'm fine..."

He studied her for a moment before he braved his next question. "About earlier-"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," she quickly interjected. "I shouldn't have-"

He stepped closer. "No," he stopped her, "I'm not complaining...but I have to ask...What brought that on?" He stared deep into her eyes, seeing that sense of familiarity again. His heart slammed into his chest as he hoped her words were what he dreamt to hear for far too long.

She stared up at him. She licked her lips before whispering, "I remember..."

Flynn saw fear behind her brown eyes and didn't understand why. "You remember what?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. He felt his heart leap into his throat. He struggled to regain his composure, reminding himself to wait - to be certain.

She stood before him bravely, reaching up to touch his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath her fingertips. "Everything," she whispered, her voice sounding so small at the moment.

Flynn couldn't contain himself any longer. He scooped her up into his arms and kissed her as though his life depended on it. He felt her arms wrap around his neck again as he pulled her closer to his body. His lips moved expertly against hers, demanding her surrender as he sought to conquer her. She didn't put up any resistance.

He set her feet back to the floor, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of her head keeping her in place against his lips. His other hand remained on her hip, making sure she didn't pull away. As she returned his kiss, he realized she had no desire to withdraw.

Guiding her backward, he led her to the bed. He misjudged the location of it, causing her to back up into the foot of the bed, both collapsing on the top as the back of her knees slammed into it, buckling from the contact. He readjusted himself over her to keep from crushing her with his full weight as his tongue plunged into her mouth, earning a gentle moan against his lips.

Flynn broke the kiss, panting for air as a question popped into his mind. He stared down at her, taking in the sight of her slightly swollen lips. Her gaze turned into one of confusion as he halted his actions to stare at her. He sighed, voice barely a whisper. "I've missed you..."

She smiled softly up at him. "I missed you, too..." She leaned up to meet his lips again, barely kissing him. He melted into her again, lips rarely parting from each other.

His heart exploded in his chest. The happiness that caused his being to soar was unexpected but it brought him so much joy, it couldn't be contained. He had missed her and he had dreamed of this moment since he discovered she was alive.

Questions raced within the dark recesses of his mind as he wondered how long she would remember everything - let alone how she managed to recover her memories. At this very moment, he didn't care. He relished in the present - he had to - for he didn't know how much of this precious gifted time he would have with her and he didn't want to waste a second of it with seemingly meaningless questions. He would have time to ask his questions later - at least, he hoped he would.

He silenced the growing questions as he kissed her again. He felt her hands against his broad shoulders, the tips of her fingers digging slightly into them, almost like a cat kneading a blanket. Her legs bent to allow him better comfort and access to her. He inhaled her scent as their lips met once more.

It didn't take him long to realize how far gone in love he was with this woman.