90S Draft 1

 "A pity," the asshole says to Duke. "But that wasn't always the case."  

Mother-FUCKER. "Audrey! Grab my hand!" I'm already in motion, lunging towards her as the douchebag gestures, as she turns and reaches for me.

I can see it, the world washing out, Audrey being pulled away in a direction that's not distance, but I have her wrist and I'm being pulled, too...

And as things stretch out and dissolve in a way I've seen once before, I realize someone else has my wrist.

There are no words to describe what it's like, being punted through time. I wouldn't even know what was going on if I hadn't been through this once before, but it's different this time. We're not being sent to the Pearson timeline. We're not even staying in Haven. There's nearly nothing around us but I watch carefully. What he said...I don't want to think too hard, battle blindness kicking in, keeping my thoughts clear. I just watch and trust that I'll know what I'm looking for when I see it.

There! The Crocker sigil. And just like that I remember Duke won the Cape in a card game. My metaphoric hands tighten around Audrey and whoever has my left hand, and then two more metaphoric hands reach out to go SCREEEEEEEEEECH and slow our...descent? That's not the right word, but our passage through time comes to a hard, half-controlled deceleration and we arrive with a not-entirely-physical THUMP on a hard surface, in the dark, somewhere very close to where I saw the Crocker sigil.

Fuck. Simon would look like Duke this far back, in terms of Troubles taken in, and he sold the boat. Did I save us from the frying pan by tossing us directly into the fire?

"Where-"

"Quiet," I say sternly in an undertone.

That was Audrey Two. From my right, Audrey asks, "Julia?"

"Quiet," I repeat in the same iron undertone. Geez, doesn't the FBI teach people how to not get overheard?

"Where are we?" Audrey Two asks in a combat whisper.

That's better. Check the Lightscape; not like I can see anything else until my eyes adjust anyway. Everything is smoke and shadows except for me, Audrey, and the Crocker in the hold, but I've stared at the smoky shape of this ship in the small hours of way too many mornings. "I interfered. If we're lucky, we're on the Cape after Simon sold it and after Duke won it."

"What do you mean, if we're lucky?"

"Simon tried to kill me," Audrey chips in less-than-helpfully. "Can't you tell...?"

"I've never seen Simon," I point out. "There's a Crocker sigil nearby. I don't know if it's him or Duke. Stay here and stay quiet, I need to check something."

Audrey Two lets go of my wrist, but I grab hers. I tug Audrey's hand over and connect it with A2's, leaving them holding hands in the dark while I navigate, half-blindly, to the door.

It's overcast outside but still too bright. I peer through the cracks between my fingers, trying to identify the boat I'd seen as a smoke shape off to the side. It's the Ursa, and furthermore it's Duke's; I can see the bench. Thanking everything from the deepest part of my soul, I go back inside. Of course, what little my eyes had adjusted to the dark is ruined now.

"-leave us alone with a potential serial killer?" Audrey Two is accusing quietly.

Audrey replies with something I can't entirely make out, but I catch 'trust' and what's probably 'knows what she's doing'.

Before I can reassure them that it's not Simon, there's a loud clang of metal-on-metal that says Duke's come up out of the hold and a flurry of sound and motion that would be the Audreys reacting the way they were trained.

“What are you doing here?” Duke demands, flicking on a flashlight he's got over his head and blinding me again. Please don't let the Audreys have pulled the guns. “Did Fiegler have loser's regret?”

"He will in about sixteen years," I mutter under my breath.

The flashlight starts to swing in my direction but is intercepted by Audrey Two with her arms crossed. "What are we doing here?"

“This isn't what it looks like,” I blurt out, and then facepalm because really? Really? That has got to be the single lamest, most cliche thing I could have said. And the flashlight is solidly on me now.

“What is it then?” Duke asks in a I'm-humoring-you-but-I-still-have-a-pipe tone of voice.

Okay, tiny cowgirl. Showtime. “A long and complicated story that's not going to be easy to believe?” And with that, I pull my hand away from my face. Move quick, establish that you're not a threat while he's still momentarily in shock. “We're not here for the boat. We're not here for anything you may or may not be carrying. We just need a ride.” He's moving, looking at me. Trying to decide if I'm real or not. I give him a smile that says, I know how crazy this sounds, and lay on some authenticity. “I swear by the bug that crawled up Eleanor's ass and died.”

"Julia!" The flashlight swings away at Audrey's indignant protest.

“Hey, you didn't have to live under her roof and her rules,” I counter sharply.

I don't care if she thinks I shouldn't talk about Mom that way. She knows she wasn't my birth mother, she knows we didn't get along, and being dead is not protection from being held accountable for your flaws in life. And seriously, now I'm remembering all the times she kept me from visiting Duke at the last minute with bullshit chores, like somehow the fact that the kitchen floor hadn't been swept in a whole three days is going to be the end of the world if it doesn't get done right now instead of after dinner.

“You can't seriously be trying to say you're Julia Carr,” Duke says, pointing with the metal pole in his other hand.

“...I told you it would be hard to believe,” I tell him sheepishly.

“Uh-huh.”

Yup, he doesn't believe me. Probably wondering if he's hallucinating. “I can explain, I swear, but could we not do it in the dark?”

He points with the pole. “...the deck's that way, as I think you know.”

I do indeed, and he helpfully lights the way as I lead everyone out. We stand around blinking for a minute while he eyes us all warily, which gives me time to cobble together an explanation that's both true and simple enough to get out in one breath. Sadly, it's still going to make me sound like I should be up at the Freddy. Wait, is it the Freddy yet? No, yeah, it is. Deep breath. Showtime.

“Okay, so, long story short: an asshole chucked us back in time and I have a magic book that can get us back to the future, but we need to be in Haven for it to work.” I'm not even trying to pretend this isn't one of the most ridiculous things that's ever come out of my mouth.

Duke blinks for a second, and then he starts laughing like I've never actually seen, so hard that he's having to lean on the pole and he may be crying. Audrey Two is looking at him like he's nuts, and Audrey looks distracted. Guess I'm still up to bat.

I grin at the laughing gypsy-pirate. “If you think that's funny you should see the video of Nathan trying to dance.”

“Julia!” Audrey is paying attention enough to protest the slight against her boyfriend, at least. We won't be mentioning that tidbit, though. She relents after a moment. “Okay, yeah,” she admits, “that was pretty funny.”

The laughter trails off. “No, okay...time travel...if that's...that'd be a Trouble, so don't you just—but,” and he breaks off, rubbing at his head and looking slightly pained.

Wait. Fuck. I've seen that expression on Cam. He's- yeah, this would be between the New Orleans job mess and the Stomach Flu Of Doom. So he's probably starting to hurt.

Duke continues, “even if that's the thing, and it's not—because you're...” He waves at me. I'm guessing that was going to be 'you're not a hallucination' or 'you're not a Trouble'. “and you kinda look like Gar-” he breaks off and says instead, “this hippie chick that, but you; both of you...”

He remembers Lucy. So that 'both of you' is probably doubting his senses because, of course, I'm from the future but he thinks Audrey is from the past. But if I tell him that he's not hallucinating, that'll get his hackles up.

“The book isn't Troubled; it'll work even though the Troubles aren't due back for another fifteen years or so,” I tell him. “There actually isn't—it's complicated.”

“Of course,” he says with enough sarcasm to keep both uncles stocked for a week.

“It's actually not that complicated,” Audrey Two says, getting my hackles up because what the hell, I'm handling this! “You don't need to know what she has to do. We need to get to Haven, and you're going to take us there or we can call in the-”

Luckily for her, Duke cuts her off with a gesture of the pole which is definitely better for her than the way I would have cut her off. “I don't have to take you anywhere. I can drop you right here. I have no real proof you are who you say you are. Who's to say you're not just a Trouble that makes you seem like you're some future version of Julia...”

Pretty sure I could pass any test he puts me to. “What kind of proof do you need?” If I can convince him that I'm me, this will go a lot smoother.

Duke just snorts, and then Audrey decides to put put her foot in. “I know you're not going to throw us overboard,” she says, pushing away from the railing and trying to be non-threatening, “and I-"

"Fair enough," he cuts her off, which has me breathing a sigh of relief because that could have gone badly, “but I have to go to port for supplies and I can just drop you there if you still exist in the morning.”

My turn again. “So, we need to barter for passage from there to Haven, then."

He leans against the pole for a breath or two, and now I know he's hurting. Okay, need to go slow and gentle and-

“This is ridiculous!” Audrey Two snaps, earning her a glare from me which she's ignoring. “Why are we wasting time arguing with the pubescent unwashed junkie when we-?”

“I bathe, thank you!” Duke snaps.

On the heels of that is my angry “Because it's his boat!” She may not still exist in the morning if she keeps this up. But since the topic's been broached with all the delicacy of a drunken steer, I turn to Duke and say casually, “...and you should really get off heroin if you want to get anywhere with my past self without Garland getting involved."

Because let's face it, if I'd known at 16 why he was acting so laid-back, but also that he was interested in me, I wouldn't have cared in the slightest about the drugs. Duke gives me a look of utter affronted bafflement, but he's back into being In Charge and fuck, his hair's so long and he's so hot and he thinks I'm a hallucination.

Fuck.

“Okay, if you really are from the future - and I generally don't do favors for cops as is, no shit I know you're cops I'm not stupid even without the posturing you were going to start before I cut you off,” he tells Audrey Two. "You're supposedly from the future, so nothing is gonna be valid, and if you're from Haven, you're really far outside your jurisdiction right now, and your gun registration, bank account, credit cards, nope. I sure as shit doubt you have a passport...so...yes, good luck with Newfoundland. It's really pretty. They have good moose.”

I've moved to a position of support closer to Duke as he neatly filleted all possible threats. I didn't invite Audrey Two, and I sure as fuck have no reservations about getting on Duke's good side by hanging her out to dry. Audrey looks like a puppy who's been kicked as she's forcibly reminded that no, really, Duke doesn't talk to cops and she's not his friend yet or even a cop he likes. Audrey Two is realizing that her usual bluster-and-threat is useless and she's ticked at not being supported, but also that she's outflanked and outgunned and she needs to swallow her pride.

When it's clear there's no more argument forthcoming, I ask Duke, “How much to take us to Haven?”

“With your crazy future money?” He gives me a skeptical look and a sarcastic handwave.

“I have a college fund I'm not going to use.” That's safe enough; I still haven't used it. “I don't care if Mom wants me to go to medical school. I'm going to run away as soon as I graduate and I'm going to do it with the money I earned working for you.”

I don't remember right now if I'd stated my intent in as many words before Duke got the Cape, but I must not have because he holds one hand up like he's trying to ward off spoilers. “I don't- if you really are from the future I don't want to hear about it, and I just...”

But instead of finishing his thought, he drops the pole and goes for the crossing plank. Once he's got it set up, he runs over and then turns to look at us expectantly. I raise my eyebrows at the other two as they glance at me, and Audrey Two gives Audrey a slight nod. She makes her way across, slightly unsteadily and it's not just lack of sea legs because I've seen her at sea. Audrey Two follows, equally unsteadily but this more unfamiliarity with the procedure, and then there's an awkward pause.

Showtime.

"Permission to come aboard, Boss!"

It's as natural as breathing, especially looking at a younger Duke standing on the Ursa, a ritual that's uniquely mine. On the other boat, I can see Audrey looking disgusted at herself and hear Audrey Two express confusion and get no explanation.

The wind cuts through my clothes, making me shiver. Duke stares at me. I stare at him. Your move, Crocker. The kitchen wench doesn't board without permission.

"Alright, come over," he says at last, waving me aboard.

Crossing is nearly as natural as breathing.

Audrey clings to the railing as Duke unhooks the boats and puts the plank away, and I stick close as we go inside.

"What's wrong?" I ask in a no-nonsense undertone.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"It's nothing, okay?"

"You're remembering I was raised by a doctor?"

"I'm fine, really."

“If she's insisting she's okay,” Audrey Two interjects, “just let it alone.” She uncrosses her arms and holds her hands up defensively like it could protect her from my glare. “I wouldn't let you help me if I didn't want you to. That's all I'm saying.”

Audrey sighs. “It's probably just...whatever the equivalent of jet lag is, really...”

That's a lie, and we all know it, but Duke changes the subject before anyone can say anything further.

"So, what do I call you?" he asks, nodding at the Audreys. "Given-" nod at me "-apparently has a name."

Yeah, he's still not convinced I'm me. I don't see 'we're both named Audrey' doing much to convince him we're real and hurry to intercept whatever Audrey's about to say. “That's Audrey, and that's Agent Parker...” With the stick up her ass. I just barely don't say that.

The question of names was a lose-lose situation, though, because admitting that there's an agent on his boat was a bad move but it's not like we could have gone 'hold on a moment, let us discuss that before we tell you our names', and even if I wasn't thinking fast enough to pick a fake name for Audrey Two, pretty sure she would have opened her mouth and ruined the effort if I had. All I can do is wince as Duke looks angry and affronted

“No. Fuck. No! Newfoundland is generous. Find some other idiot to take you the rest of the way. I'm not going near Haven until you're done with whatever the hell it is!”

He turns away to check the radio, listen to the weather, but apparently it's not good because he looks like he wants to throw something overboard and he's not particularly picky about what it is.

Audrey Two apparently thinks she smells blood in the water because she starts back up, hard and arrogant. “Stop threatening-”

“I'm not threatening!” Duke shouts and oh fuck, he's hurting and he's got an agent on his boat, this is a very unhappy gypsy. “This is a promise!”

“Agent Parker," I jump in, using my best Bite Your Head Off voice, "I swear to God I will throw you overboard myself if you do not shut up.”

From the side, Audrey mutters, "I'll help."

“Leave the man alone,” I command. She tried to protest, but I didn't live with Eleanor for sixteen years without learning how to verbally overrule someone, and I utter Mom's best 'shut your trap' sounds until her mouth snaps shut with a glare. “Stop antagonizing him. This is his boat, we're the intruders and if we want his help we need to work out arrangements with him.” On that note, though, I need to put my money where my mouth is. Metaphorically. “I can give you information,” I offer Duke, “tell you about things to do with fixing up the Cape and salvaging things from the Ursa.” That's not going to be nearly enough even if he accepts it. “If I can use a phone, I can get money wired or arrange for a payment to be waiting...” Duke's giving me a Are You Shitting Me look and I raise my hands placatingly. “I understand. Just putting it out there. I do know the ways you usually get paid.”

“Oh? Do you?”

Okay, wow. Very cranky gypsy. Right up there with early-morning-pre-blowjob-detoxing Cam. I keep my voice light and innocent. “Cash, favors, information, sex. I've known that since I was fourteen, Boss.”

He looks like he wants to scrub everything out of his head, but I think I've defused him a little. And then Audrey Two opens her mouth again.

“I'm not paying someone like him in sex,” she says with affronted derision, “and I hope you two won't either and not,” her voice drops and she practically hisses at Audrey, "tell me you already did."

Audrey glares at her. If I weren't reminding myself firmly that bloodshed on someone else's boat is very rude, I'd be amused at Audrey getting a taste of her own horror at the thought of sleeping with Duke, and the knowledge that I'll probably be doing exactly that before we get back to Haven.

“Oh, don't worry, Agent Parker," Duke drawls, leaning against the wall, "It has to have value in trade to make it worth while. I barely trust your money to be good.” He starts tapping on the wall. He's getting twitchy, not just hurting.

“I'm not saying sex isn't an option," I say, partly to rub it in to Audrey Two but mostly because I can't not hit on my gypsy. "With me, anyway. But it's not a payment option.” Because that would imply that it's a commodity, and not his for the taking.

Well done, Julia, excellent choice of words. Because you're not worked up enough yet. But he's looking at me in a familiar way, the look that says he's afraid to accept that he can have what he wants because he's not used to not getting the football yanked away at the last second. Flirt with your gypsy, wench. Let him know you're interested, but don't be overpowering. Not hard; I'm a girl, so I give him a girly flirty smile.

He's still twitchy and hurting, but I think I'm getting there. He sits down and leans forward, massaging the back of his neck. I'm about to step forward to lend a hand when-

“This is really what we're relying on here?”

Oh my god. I am going to murder a federal agent on Duke's boat.

“I think your judgment is off,” she continues, over Audrey's protest of 'Hey!' “He's not exactly with it, is he? And don't think I didn't hear you talking about heroin just because you got quieter before-”

"Stop it!" I order, and for a miracle, she stops. I crouch down by Duke's leg so he can see me without moving. God, I'm such a girl, I'm more worried about him than I am angry at her. “Hey, maybe you should go lie down in the back room," I suggest gently.  "I can make sure they don't get into anything.”

“Lie down?” Audrey Two retorts, “You mean get high? How is this going to-"

“No one's going to be doing anything if you don't shut up!” I interrupt and seriously, I am going to throw her overboard. “We're going to be stuck in Newfoundland in the 1990s. If we wind up in jail or something and I have to live out twenty years before I get back to-" my gypsy. I can't say that. That's telling him about the future. Guiltily, I glance at him.

“You're being ridiculous and focusing on the wrong-"

Her voice cuts off, and when I look, Audrey's got her in the hold I taught her and is dragging her towards the door, whispering intently into her ear. As the door closes behind them, I resolve to get Audrey and Nathan on a date when we get back, even if I have to threaten him into it.

Duke stands up, looking like every motion is taking all his willpower, and takes two reluctant steps after them. Nothing good can come from that. I block his path.

“Please, go rest before you start hurting. I can-”

No, apparently, I can't, because all that dopesick irritation focuses on me. “It doesn't matter if you are who you say you are," he snarls, "you've clearly changed if you think bringing cops and Feds or whoever-” he points at me, “onto the boat is okay, and I'm not doing anything.”

Black rage, curdling on his face, coming off of him in waves. I'm a teenager again, frozen in fear, and Duke is glowering at me from the deck of the Ursa, a bottle in his hand, bruises and cuts on his face, his arms, his torso, and I can't hear what he's saying over the shards of my world falling down around me because he's so angry, angry at me, and I don't know what I'm going to do without the tiny breath of fresh air his friendship is in my otherwise-stifled life. But that time it wasn't my fault and this was, I did this, I brought cops on his boat and I can't breathe because he doesn't trust me, I did the impossible and I fucked up. I got Cam's trust three times but I never thought I'd ever lose Duke's and I'd give anything, anything, to make it right because I can't live like this, I can't go back if both my gypsies aren't there waiting for me.

I have to make it right. I brought cops. I can't actually get rid of them. Make them not cops? Disarm them. Handcuff them? They can pick cuffs. Can't pick locks with fingers taped together and thumbs taped down.

The door slams behind me, tiny furious dragon, pain bleeding from my eyes to cut searing tracks of ice into my cheeks, and the Audreys turn to look at me in shock.

"Julia, what-"

Audrey's concern is swept away by the heat of my pain, transmuted to rage. "GUNS! NOW!"

"I'm not giving you my gun," Audrey Two shoots back. "Hell no! Why should-"

"Because you cost me the thing I value most!" The voice I'm using isn't anything resembling an inside voice. "Duke's trust!"

"Just do as she says," Audrey sighs. "Julia runs a little short on logic where Duke is concerned."

I'd say something about how it's not illogical to value the trust of the man you love, who's only ever given his trust to you, but she's handing me her service weapon so I bite my tongue. Mostly. "Thigh gun too," I tell her, and she complies awkwardly. Yeah, bullshit she's fine. But that's not my concern right now. I tuck her guns into my waistband and turn to Audrey Two.

"Are you sure his trust is worth having?" she asks, like she thinks she could ever shake the loyalty of this cowgirl wench. "We should be focusing on getting back to the future."

She thinks...she doesn't realize...? It's going to be real hard to get back to Haven from Newfoundland without Duke's he- well, okay, I could manage it, but what's the point if it's a dystopian future where I live with my mother because I never left because I didn't have the money from working on the Cape because inexplicably... 

More droplets of pure, distilled rage slip down my cheeks. "I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK TO THE FUTURE IF IT'S ONE WHERE DUKE DOESN'T TRUST ME!"

"Really? Why do you care what some...junkie thinks?"

I'm about to pistolwhip her with Audrey's service weapon when Audrey bursts out with "What the hell is wrong with you?" Then she takes a breath and says, somewhat more calmly, "I know you're scared. You're all scared but-" she gestures emphatically "-I'm not! I don't have anything to be afraid of out here! So, trust me like you normally do, hand over your gun, and calm the fuck down already!"

"I'm not handing over my gun because-" a gesture at me replaces what was likely going to be an uncomplimentary term. "She has a crush on the heroin addict and is worried about one little breach of trust."

"You don't get it," I spit. "It'd be like you going back to find out your foster-dad pinned the abuse on you, and you could never serve in any way, and as for trust?" For a long moment, all I can do is laugh bitterly. "I don't expect you to understand that. I know exactly what trust means to you from watching her." Gesture to Audrey, who winces but doesn't say anything. "Nathan understands the sanctity of trust. You just have to keep your mouth shut and listen to the expert on this little mission," I tell her venomously. "Or did the FBI not teach you that?"

Something I've said must have penetrated, because a white-faced Agent Parker is actually handing me her service weapon.

"Thigh gun too," I say pointedly, the rage three-fourths appeased.

"I don't have a-"

"The one in your ankle holster," Audrey says tiredly.

Audrey Two glares at her, but lifts her pants leg and hands it to me. "How did you know...?"

"She had one, so you have one." And now I'm remembering chameleon-Audrey in the killer dress, and the heart-pounding feeling of wondering if Duke sees me as a woman, or as the skinny little girl I was when he told me gently he wasn't interested.

What if he's never interested again?

Fighting back more tears, I storm back into the cabin and over to the table so I have a place to put things. Duke's lying on the couch, looking miserable.

"These are Audrey's," I tell him firmly as I pull them out and start disassembling them. "These are Agent Parker's." Then I pull mine out one at a time and give them the same treatment while he watches in confusion. "This is mine. And this is also mine. All our guns. Get up."

His eyebrows draw together. "What?"

"Get up," I repeat, keeping my voice hard so it doesn't break, pointing behind the couch with a clip. “I'll put the guns in the panel back there, and then the only ones available on the boat will be yours.”

He does actually stand up and move the couch to expose the panel, then opens it and leans against the wall while I fill my arms with guns and clips and pile them all inside. When everything's in there he closes it back up, and I help him move the couch back.

“They have no idea that's there,” I tell him, waving at the Audreys still out on the deck. Deep breath to steady my voice because I have to confess, and lay everything out for judgment. "I know you have- I know you have a gun under the bench. I know where your shotgun is. And if you don't trust me to not shoot you with your own guns, then you should just handcuff us all and tape our fingers together until we..."

My throat closes on the rest of the sentence as I wait for him to pass judgment.

"I'm not going to..."

His voice is warm and gentle and I can't take it anymore, I lunge and wrap my arms around him, face buried in his chest, pressing him against the wall while I hug him like I can keep the tears inside if I just squeeze tight enough, and he doesn't tell me to let go. He doesn't pull away. One arm curls around my waist, holding me gently, while the other rests hesitantly on my hair.

It's okay. He doesn't hate me. It's okay. All the fear and pain bubble up and leave through my shaky breaths.

My gypsy is holding me and everything is perfect.

Once equilibrium has been reached again, I pull back enough to wipe my face with one sleeve. "I'm sorry," I say softly. “I'm sorry for bringing the law onto your boat, but things-" Yeah, not going to explain what was going on even if there were words for it. "It was either that or reenact the ending of Titanic.”

The arms don't move, but he says, "What?"

I'm not sure if he even knows what happened to the ship itself, much less the movie that...hasn't come out yet. Whoops. “Shit. Um. Giant boat that sank? People freezing to death in the ocean. They made a movie - a stupid, sappy, love story masquerading as historical fact - but the point was,” reluctantly, I take myself out of his embrace and give him space. “When we landed here- there, on the Cape, she was...not fixed. I was afraid you hadn't won her yet, and-" Nope, not mentioning Simon. "-but you- I looked and saw the Ursa towing her so that was kinda reassuring.”

"Kinda?"

I press my lips together for a moment, sorting through words. “It meant we wouldn't be camping out in the dark, waiting for you to win her, but...” Gesture at the closed door. “...that still happened." Fuck, does he think...better clear that up. "I'm not a cop. Wouldn't work for the government if you paid me.” If the government would even have me, and not just have me arrested. And now he's wondering who and what I am that I can yell at a federal agent with impunity. “Military-trained assassin," I say crisply. "I won't tell you anything else.”

It's the 17th of Never in the rest of the world, but Tuesday on Duke's boat, when 'I'm an international assassin' is more reassuring than 'I work for the government'.

He looks like he'd be doing the 'no sex' headshake if he weren't feeling like crap. “Why would you tell me...future things...?” For a second it looks like he's going to push away from the wall but thinks better of it. “I mean damn, that's bad-ass, but...”

Tiny badass wench is now a girl, thank you Dread Pirate Crocker. “Because there's not that many other professions that use firearms and you deserve to know why your kitchen wench is able to separate a hostile federal agent from her gun,” I say, fighting a blush. “Won't you sleep better knowing that if she tries to kill you in your sleep, I can kill her first? O-or incapacitate her and keep her secured," I correct myself hurriedly. Rein in the homicidal impulses there, wench. "Because even if she's from the future, you don't need a crime scene on your boat.”

“I was just going to ask if they were okay out there, and no one had actually been thrown overboard...though I would have thought we'd have heard the splash...” The little half-smile he'd been wearing fades as he looks annoyed with himself. “But, I...suppose...would she really try to kill me in my sleep? Future box not opening and all, I seem to be around...aren't there issues with paradoxes?”

I roll my eyes and huff out an exasperated sigh. “Not if she's smart. Hopefully Audrey's talked some sense into her. As for paradoxes..." That's something I've been avoiding thinking about, and I'll continue to ignore it because hey, it's not like either Uncle Dave or I can't give Duke false memories. Luckily, I don't have to get into it. "Do you really want to talk time travel with your head like that?”

That gets me a very disgruntled look.

“I'm not happy about the heroin, but I understand why...” Whoah, don't say anything about the skinflayer, keep that can of worms shut. I gesture to mean 'why you're on it'. And then fuck, need to address the issue of how and why I know enough to understand. “I'm sorry, I know you don't want to know. I'm just trying to answer your questions or explain myself in the most noncommittal way possible.”

Disgruntled wordless grumble, and a weak glower. “I get it, kinda. I just...people showing up knowing all this stuff about me is...”

“Cheating,” I say sympathetically, “We're dirty cheaters from the future, and the only thing I can do to even the odds for you is make sure you know I'm on your side.”

That gets another grumble, but it's the one that's agreeing without wanting to say so out loud.

“So...” I ask in a small voice, “will you take us to Haven?”

Duke scratches absently at his scalp. “I'm kinda going there anyway...”

The smile I give him says, I knew that, but you knew I knew that. “Is there anything you'll trust as payment?”

“I don't...” But whatever it is he doesn't, he apparently reconsiders and weighs and argues with himself with before saying, “I do prefer cash...but emptying your college fund...”

One eyebrow arches. “Were you really going to charge us fifty grand?”

I think I broke the gypsy, because he's giving me a stunned look. “That's what...”

“College is expensive, Boss," I say lightly. "Especially medical school.”

“I see...” Although he's still looking a bit dazed. “So...no...I...not that much...”

Poor overwhelmed gypsy. “Five thousand?” I offer.

That's the calculating look; good, he's still up enough to think clearly. “Sounds reasonable, considering you guys will need to eat and everything. You might not like what I have in stock...” His eyebrows knit together as he likely tries to remember what he has for food. At least he never got as bad as Cam for forgetting to eat.

“Plus bonus for cops being on your boat," I say, only half teasing.

“Should we let them back in?" he says, smirking, and I smirk back. "Let them know you've won over the obnoxious gypsy?”

Then his balance goes piff and he nearly falls over, like he's distracted enough by trying to think that he's forgotten how to stand. Not good. But now that he knows I'm me, and trustworthy, maybe I can get him to stop being stubborn before he's in bone-wracking pain. Okay, tiny wench. Keep it concerned but not bossy.

“...Boss, you need to take something. Even if it's just a little. You're not doing well.”

Duke leans forward to rub at his head, which has my fingers twitching and the rest of me holding rigidly still so I don't just throw him over my shoulder and haul him off, plunk him down in bed and sit on him while I cook his dope and hold his hand steady around the needle. Thankfully, he straightens back up.

“You'll keep them occupied?" He asks, although it's more confirming than inquiring. "And out of trouble?”

“Even if I have to tie them up and sit on them,” I promise, fighting giddy relief.

He nods. “Okay, well...I imagine you know where things are given you've bought access to the kitchen. I'll be in the bedroom if something catches fire.”

I catch myself from kissing him tenderly to express my support. Down, wench! “...you got it, Boss.”

The look he gives me is self-denial and bafflement and more self-denial, which doesn't help. I watch with wistful longing as he drags himself into the bedroom and closes - but does not lock - the door.

He trusts me. God, I'm a girl.

The Audreys look up like startled deer when I open the door, even though I've done it gently. "Come on back in," I tell them. "It's safe."

Audrey Two looks at me warily. "Is it?"

"The guns are hidden and the gypsy's in his room relaxing." I shrug. "Not sure what else you'd be worried about."

"See?" Audrey tells her. "I told you." Then she turns to me. "Are things okay between you two again?"

"He knows I'm me." I wave her inside. "Come on, out of the cold."

Audrey nods and files past me, Audrey Two following.

"I successfully negotiated our passage to Haven," I tell them as they sit down, rubbing their hands. "Food and drink included."

"How much?" Audrey asks, half cutting Audrey Two off as she asks, "How?"

"Five grand out of my college fund." I know he's got to have some coffee, and we can all use a hot cup right about now. I can't resist adding, "If it'd been just me, I probably could have paid my way in sex." My back is turned as I rummage through the cabinets, but I can hear choked back reactions.

"I don't want to know," Audrey says sharply. "You don't want to know," she tells the other Audrey. "Trust me on that."

"What I want to know," she counters, "is how she got him to cooperate, and why she had to confiscate our firearms."

Found the coffee; I start it brewing while waiting to see if Audrey's going to answer, but all she says is, "Julia has ways. She's done this before, but I have no idea how. I thought I'd get to see her in action this time," she jokes weakly, "but I still have no idea how she does it."

"It's easy," I tell them, turning my attention to the fridge. Woo, that's cold. Right, this was the Antarctica Fridge. "Duke trusts me.  I'm the only one he trusts."

"The only one," Audrey Two says doubtfully.

"He grew up half gypsy and half Hispanic in a small, almost completely white town." Okay, that's fish...frozen fish. Probably for the best that it's frozen. "That wouldn't be so bad, but his dad, Simon? Multi-state serial killer and all around asshole. Best thing he ever did for Duke was get himself killed." There's some vegetables, mostly root. I can work with that. "Then there's his mom, the literal crack whore. You can imagine the town didn't look kindly on him. And that was before he started doing unsavory things to survive."

"Unsavory how?" she asks, still wary.

I turn to look at her. "Not killing. But he stole, he scammed, he sold pot and moonshine, and he conned his way into a variety of places, trading sex for food, for a place to sleep, for not getting in trouble, you name it."

She looks like she's trying not to judge, but she can't help it. "And your parents let you hang out with him?"

Turn back to the fridge. Don't get into town politics. Don't mention your father. "Never knew my birth parents. I was raised by a very strict, controlling woman. It's not that she let me, she just couldn't stop me. Not without fighting me every day." Beer. Bread. Cheese. Yeah, I can work with that. "I was the only one in town who didn't treat him like shit. He was the only one who didn't treat me like a child. So yeah," I say angrily to the inside of the fridge, "he trusts me, and his trust is important to me." Deep breaths, Julia. Calm down. Turn around. Close the fridge. "Once I proved I was really me, there was never a question that he'd help."

"And for that," she says skeptically, "you needed our guns."

"We're cops," Audrey sighs. She's really not doing well. "Duke doesn't talk to cops, even cops that he likes. He's been arrested enough that he knows police procedure as well as we do, and he can't be intimidated. As you learned. He's tolerating us because he trusts Julia, and she demonstrated that she has his back by taking our guns. If she hadn't been with us, he probably would have left us in the hold of the other ship. Am I right?" she asks me.

"With blankets," I clarify. "He's not a killer. He might have tied you up, blindfolded you, and sat you in the corner until he got to Newfoundland, then left you in a bathroom somewhere or something. At least, that's what I would have done in his shoes." Audrey Two's staring at me. "Oh, and I'd have taken your guns and IDs and probably wrapped them in an old shirt or something and either pitched them overboard, or left them in a trash can across town from where I left you. All prints wiped off, of course, assuming I wasn't wearing gloves in the first place."

"Julia knows how to properly kidnap someone," Audrey says with a small smile for me.

"Why...?"

"I've had a very exciting career in creative conflict resolution," I tell Audrey Two cheerfully.

"How exciting?"

"Thirty-seven confirmed kills over the span of a decade."

After a long moment of staring at me, she turns and stares at Audrey.

"Don't ask her about the money," Audrey says. "It'll make you feel like we went into the wrong profession."

"We did alright," Audrey Two protests. "Paid off our student loans..."

"I have a fifty-thousand-dollar college fund," I say, leaning against the counter. "And I haven't touched it. Never went to college. Don't need it. Figure I'll save it for my future kid."

"But you work in a bar," she says, slightly bewildered.

"I own half of that bar."

"You live on a boat."

I point in the direction of the Cape. "That boat."

"Don't question the boat," Audrey warns her. "The boat is sacred. We're landlubbers, we don't understand. Wait, you own half of the...?" My expression answers for me. "Aww, Julia, I'm so happy for you! When did that happen?"

"After New York." Hmm. I should take things out to thaw if I want to have hot food by the time we're hungry. Several assorted hard lumps go into a pan where they can defrost without dripping everywhere, and then I pour coffee and distribute it before joining the Audreys at the table, because I'm pretty sure there's going to need to be more explanations.

Sure enough, Audrey Two takes her mug with a murmur of thanks, and then asks, "What happened in New York?"

Oh boy. What didn't happen in New York? Where to start with the explanations? To explain the abduction I have to explain the herion, and that means I have to explain the skinflayer...and at some point I'll have to explain Cam.

"The easy explanation is that some dumbshits from Duke's past had the brilliant idea to get revenge by luring him to another state, pumping him full of heroin, and leaving him to twist. Unfortunately for them, they didn't do their research to know he had people willing to go ninety down the highway for six hours to rescue him before they got to stage three. Unfortunately for him, that left him shot full of heroin. But when he got clean again, he decided that I'd earned an equal share in his bar for my timely rescue and putting up with him through detox."

Audrey Two glances at the bedroom door. "But that means he got off heroin at some point before that."

"About four months from now," I confirm. "Helped him through it then, too, even though I thought he just had the worst stomach flu ever. That's when I really earned his trust."

"So wait, you only partially have his trust now? How much more can he trust you?"

Instead of answering, I reach for my purse and dig out my keychain. "See this?" I ask, holding the appropriate one up. "I've had it for sixteen years. It unlocks that door over there." Then I hold up the Cape's key. "This one is to the boat we landed on. Had it since the day after I first set foot back in Haven after fourteen years of being out in the world."

"You just showed back up and he gave you a key." Her skepticism is almost palpable.

"There was a Trouble...thing...the first day she was back," Audrey says. "I was kind of unconscious for most of it, but I saw them meet again for the first time in fourteen years and they were as awkward as you'd expect. Then I got knocked out, and when I woke up again, her...adoptive...mother had died and Julia was really shaken up. Duke looked shaken, too, but he was practically glued to her the whole way back. Held her as she slept. It was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen him do."

"Comforting you in your time of grief," Audrey Two practically coos. "Okay, now I can believe he just gave you the key."

My hands are very tight around the keys and I can feel the panic screaming at the back of my head. "Not grief," I say tightly, staring into the table's surface. "Duke and I both have...skin-related PTSD."

"Skin-related?"

Audrey gives a little gasp. "Oh my god, the..." Her voice drops to a whisper. "...skinflayer?"

"For him," I say curtly, ignoring Audrey Two asking, "The what?"

"She was..." Audrey sounds distinctly unhappy. "Her Trouble made her like a...lizard. She had a tongue...ripped people's skin off. It's more horrifying than it sounds."

"He ran into her a few months back. In New Orleans. Was supposed to be the last job for the drug runners, paying off his mom's debts. Instead, he barely made it out alive, got on heroin, and kept working for them to support that."

There's silence for a long minute. Slowly, keeping my eyes down, I pry my hands off the keys and put them away, then wrap my hands around my mug and sip slowly.

"Did you...?" Audrey Two asks gingerly.

"I never saw her. Mine was something different." No, no, force the memories away. "Don't ask me. Don't make me remember. Don't mention any of this to Duke."

Audrey gasps again. "Oh my god. Julia...Claire...you?"

A brief nod is all I can manage.

"Okay," she says briskly. "Audrey, why don't we...go over to the couch. I'll tell you about Cam. Julia, if anyone can make something edible with whatever's in that fridge, it's you. Duke's counting on you. Hop to it, wench," she says in an unconvincingly firm voice, but it makes me laugh a little.

They stand and take their mugs to the couch. Slowly, I stand and turn my attention to the kitchen. Duke's counting on me. Showtime, kitchen wench.