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Chapter Text

Michael kept her gaze set on the floor while she followed the guard through the corridors.

She had learned early on that it was better not to look the other prisoners in the eyes. Especially when you're on the way to meet a visitor.

Michael was very lucky in this regard. Her family hadn't turned their backs on her after she had been arrested and Spock and Amanda visited her frequently.

The guard stopped as they reached the visiting room. Michael took two more steps, before stopping as well.

Now she could see five other prisoners in orange suits talking to their visitors.

Spock sat at another table, tapping his fingers against his thighs while waiting.

The guard nodded to her. "You know the rules."

Michael gave a confirming nod before stepping to Spock's desk. "Hey."

"Michael", he greeted her as she sat down in front of him, "it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too. How have you been? Have you talked to Jim again?" Michael took great pleasure in teasing her little brother about his first crush.

Spock lowered his gaze to the table. "I have not. I was too busy with other things."

"Such as?", Michael pressed.

"I've started my internship at Pike Industries. I really like it, so I want to make a good impression."

"Wow, that's amazing", Michael called out, "my little brother's working for the most famous billionaire in the US."

"That wasn't the reason why I applied", Spock corrected her. "His technological visions are really fascinating."

"I know", Michael smiled, "I was just teasing."

They talked for the entirety of Spock's visit and when Michael was returned to her cell, she was already looking forward to his next visit.

It was the only thing breaking through the monotonous life in prison.

----------

Paul opened his laptop the moment he sat down in front of his desk.

He had to get this right. They have been working on this problem for weeks now and it was bordering on pathetic that he wasn't able to solve it.

Chris was nothing but understanding but Paul knew that even he was just a gear inside a bigger mechanism.

Paul didn't look up when he heard footsteps approaching and two hands fell onto his shoulders.

"Are you working on the navigation controls?", Paul's best friend Justin asked.

"Yup."

"When you get that thing to do the damn calculations instead of me, I'll marry you."

That made Paul look up at him. "What does Amelia say about that plan?"

Justin shrugged, grinning. "That'll be her problem. She just can't compare against the man who does all the work so I can relax at work."

He leaned against Paul's desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "But seriously, Paul, that would make it so much easier for me. Let me take you out as a thank you. Amelia and I are planning on going to the opera on Saturday. You could join us."

Paul shook his head vehemently and went back to his work.

"Oh come on, Paul", Justin closed Paul's Laptop, forcing him to look at him, "you can't spend all your time here, y'know? You have to go out and enjoy your life."

"I can't, Justin", Paul shot back, louder than intended. He flinched slightly as some heads turned their way.

"I can't", he repeated more quietly. "Not to the opera."

The teasing look disappeared from Justin's face. Instead, his eyes were full of pity.

"Listen, Paul, I know you miss him. But you can't hide in here forever. Think about it. We'd enjoy the company."

Paul nodded briefly. He already knew that he wouldn't change his mind. Until two years ago, Hugh had been the one to invite him to an opera. Paul had said yes instantly to make him happy. But now Hugh was gone and Paul couldn't bear to sit alone in another opera, while Justin and his wife were happy beside him.

Justin didn't wait for a reply. Instead, he clapped loudly, again attracting the attention of the people near them.

"Well, I'm gonna go get the Taccos then. Chris will be mad if we forget Tacco Tuesday again."

He made his way towards the elevator, and Paul turned towards his trainee Tilly. "Hey Tilly, can you send me the ..."

Boom!

Paul spun around, scanning the room for the cause of the gun shot.

A man was standing in front of the Mothership, gun pointed to the ceiling. He shot a few more times and everyone started to move.

Paul ducked behind a desk, Tilly behind him. Everyone else was also seeking shelter as one of the intruders demanded: "Everyone on the ground! Now!"

From his position behind the desk Paul watched the chaos. The intruders were screaming orders at the employees who were screaming in fear. People who didn't follow the order and were still working were pushed to the ground. All the while gun shots still echoed through the air.

Then Paul locked eyes with Justin. His friend was standing in the middle of the intruders, looking terrified. Paul's first impulse was to get to him, but he stayed where he was. He didn't want to risk getting himself or Justin killed.

A woman with a long dark brown ponytail had a gun pointed at Justin's head and shoved him towards the Mothership.

Paul had to watch helplessly as Justin and the four intruders climbed into the Mothership and it disappeared.

He slowly came to his feet, still staring at the empty space where the Mothership had been.

He could hear Tilly talking, but he couldn't make out the words over the pounding in his ears.

A group of terrorists had just broken into the headquarters of Pike Industries, kidnapped his best friend, and stolen his life's work. It seemed too surreal to be true.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. Tilly was looking at him concerned, three police officers expectantly.

Paul shook his head to clear it from the manic thoughts circling in his mind. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"What happened and where are they?"

Chapter Text

It was 9:37 PM.

Michael was already laying in bed, staring at the glowing digits of her digital clock. She didn't like falling asleep. It was the only time during the day when she had time to think. When the memories would come back.

Michael knew that she deserved to be in prison. She was content with spending the next few years there. After all she had been driving while being drunk and that had cost a young man's life.

Sighing, Michael turned to lie on her back and rubbed her eyes. Great. Now she was thinking again.

Another glance at the clock told her it was 9:49 PM.

That was the moment the door opened und the light went on.

Michael sat up, blinking against the sudden light. A guard was standing in her doorway. "Michael Burnham, please follow me. You are being released."

Michael didn't move a bit. "That has to be a mistake. I was sentenced for ten years and I've only served nine months."

"Please follow me. You are being released", the guard repeated. She sounded really bored.

Still suspicious, Michael got up and followed the guard.

Even when she left the prison, dressed in her own clothes and backpack in hand, she couldn't really believe it.

A single car was parked in the parking lot. The driver got out the moment he spotted Michael and went to meet her.

"Michael Burnham?"

"Uhh, yeah?"

"I'm Agent April from Homeland Security", he held out a badge that shone in the beam of the street lights, "you need to come with me. We need your help." He gestured towards his car.

Still hesitant Michael got into the car.

They remained silent for the entire ride. Michael tried to figure out where they were headed, but it was too dark to see much.

Eventually they parked next to a police car. This day was getting curiouser and curiouser.

Michael got out and looked around, still trying to figure out what was going on. Because of that she almost missed April's "Follow me."

He walked towards the building, not even looking behind to check if she really was following him. Well, as a government agent he probably was used to everyone doing what he wanted them to.

Michael followed April through the brightly lit corridors of a huge building. It looked familiar to her, but she couldn't figure out why.

Eventually April opened a door and Michael entered the room behind it. The very moment she crossed the threshold, he closed the door behind her without another word.

Michael wanted to protest, but let it be. Instead, she took in the room she was in.

It looked to be some kind of waiting area, with four armchairs and three coffee tables between them. The furniture looked expensive and sterile, everything was black. On one wall a plaque read "Pike Industries" in giant letters.

But the most interesting part was the man sitting in one of the armchairs. He seemed to be her age and he had black hair and a faint beard. He was quite handsome, Michael had to admit. He didn't look at her, staring straight ahead.

Michael sat down in an armchair across from him and cleared her throat. "Do you know why we're here?"

The man turned to look at her, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry, no idea."

She was about to ask something different when the door opened.

A middle aged woman with reddish-brown hair entered, speaking as she walked: "Michael Burnham, I'm Agent Katrina Cornwell from Homeland Security", she held out a hand and Michael took it. "You have quite the reputation."

Michael raised an eyebrow.

"History, anthropology, you're world class", Cornwell clarified.

"I also have been charged with involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to ten years in prison."

"I know", Cornwell smiled, "I'm the one who got you out of there."

Even though Michael had already suspected that, hearing it out loud was something different. "But ... why?"

"Like I said, we need your help."

With that she turned to the man. "Master Sergeant Ash Tyler. Delta Force?" The two also shook hands while Ash nodded. "Speaking of reputation", Cornwell added.

Then she turned to Michael. "Now, we don't have much time, so follow me please. And hold on to your asses."

Michael exchanged a brief glance with Ash, before they hurried after Cornwell.

They were led down the same corridors as before. Was Cornwell really just leading them out of the building again? Was this some kind of prank?

When they entered the elevator that brought Michael there, she was just about to ask, when Cornwell pressed the 2.

So at least they weren't just sent back. But the entire situation was still very weird. Michael just wanted to go back to prison and serve her more than deserved ten years. She didn't want to get involved in whatever it was the government needed her help with.

Eventually they arrived at their destination. The same black armchairs as before stood on two of the three glass walls, another coffee table between them.

Ash sat down in one of the armchairs while Michael went over to one of the glass walls. Yellow barrier tape was stuck to it.

She looked down at some kind of working area with lots of desks and technical equipment. Some people were working, while others seemed to be freaked out about something that probably also was the reason for the police car outside.

"Philippa Georgiou", Cornwell started and Michael turned around. The other woman had opened a personal file on a computer screen.

"She used to be NSA-Agent for southern Asia."

"What happened?", Ash asked.

"She killed her husband and daughter", Cornwell explained and Michael flinched. She was living with the guilt of having ended someone's life. To do something like that willingly and to your own family ... she couldn't even imagine that.

"That was a year ago", Cornwell continued, "we thought she was hiding in Chechnya but apparently not."

The screen now showed security footage of the same woman from the file stepping into a weird looking machine.

Ash apparently thought the same thing. "What's she doing in that Star Tours ride?"

The video continued and the machine disappeared. Michael's eyes widened. "What the hell happened there?"

"Ever heard of a closed time-like curve?", another voice asked.

Michael looked over to see Christopher Pike himself entering the room. Interesting. Michael had learned some things about the space-time continuum in school and it had always fascinated her. Despite that, she still had now idea what was going on.

Ash seemed to be stuck at awe. "You're Christopher Pike", he exclaimed, "my brother's a big fan of your cars."

Michael really couldn't care less about Pike's success. "Excuse me, what is a time-like curve?", she interrupted.

"Okay. Say, this", Pike picked up a sheet of paper, "is the fabric of space time. Now, if you get a powerful enough gravitational field, you could actually bend it back on itself", he demonstrated it by rolling up the paper, "creating a kind of loop that would allow you to cross over to an earlier point."

"Like, time travel, you mean?"

"Correct", Cornwell answered, "Mr Pike invented a time machine. And he only chose to tell the government about it once it was stolen by terrorists."

"Because the government is so great at keeping stuff like that a secret. You saw what happens when the public finds out about something like this", Pike shot back.

"Well, you want our help now."

"Hold on a second", Ash interrupted them, "this is all a joke right? Just some sort of test by the government?"

Micheal nodded. The suspicion she'd had since the prison was getting stronger. "This is simply impossible."

"That's what they said about space travel too", Pike reminded her, "until someone with enough imagination made it possible."

Chapter Text

When Paul came back from the debriefing with Chris and Agent Cornwell, Tilly awaited him.

"Isn't your shift over already?", he asked and she just grinned at him.

"It is. But I thought you might need my help. You know, with what happened ..."

"I know what happened", he snapped, but immediately felt guilty. It wasn't Tilly's fault that this woman had kidnapped Justin. "I'm sorry."

Somehow, she was still smiling. "You don't have to be. I understand that it's hard for you. What do you think will happen now?"

Paul shrugged. "Chris probably will send someone after them. If Agent Cornwell doesn't confiscate our entire research."

Tilly's eyes widened. "She could do that?"

Paul scoffed. "Of course she could. She's working for the government, they can do anything. And it's not like they care much about scientific breakthroughs."

They were interrupted by Airiam. She, like Paul, had lost her husband to their research, but was still here. She and Paul had become good friends because of that.

"Chris wants us to bring down the Lifeboat", she informed them. "I'll coordinate it upstairs, if you can stay here?"

Paul nodded and made his way over to the place where the Lifeboat would land, where the Mothership had stood until an hour ago.

Paul stopped and simply stared. He could still see Justin standing there, while Georgiou held a gun to his head.

"Um, Sir?"

Tilly was looking at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Let's start."

"Ready?", Airiam called from the upper floor.

Paul gave her a thumbs up and the floor opened to reveal the Lifeboat. It was slowly lowered and Paul, Tilly and two others took their positions on each side of the Lifeboat.

This way they made sure it landed evenly in front of them. It sat down with a soft thud and the safety harnesses loosened.

"Good work", Paul praised the others.

Tilly beamed at him.

----------

"Our earliest prototype", Pike explained, as they stood in front of the time machine.

"She isn't fancy but works, usually. We kept her operational in case the crew of the Mothership ever needed a rescue. We call this one the Lifeboat. Their CPUs are linked, but unfortunately she can't tell us exactly where the Mothership has gone. But she can tell us when."

"Of course", Ash remarked, "it only tells you when. Time machine problems."

"We're working on it, but for now it has to be enough", Pike replied.

Michael went over to the computer Pike was working on. A date was written at the bottom.

3:30 PM - May 6th, 1937

She recognized that date. In college she had written a report on the tragic fate of the Hindenburg once, and had never forgotten it since then. After that report she had suffered from a fear of flying for months.

Cornwell pulled Michael out of her thoughts. "We found this on the dead shooter." She held out a small piece of paper. "It's an address of a tavern in Manchester, New Jersey."

That also proofed that the destination was, in fact, the Hindenburg. She told the others as much.

Ash spoke up again: "So you're telling me that this woman actually went back in time. Like, for real?"

Pike didn't look at him. Instead, he was focused on Michael. "Michael, if Georgiou kills people in '37 who aren't supposed to die, that could change history. And with it the reality we live in today changes."

Michael returned his gaze steadfastly. "So why the hell did you invent something so dangerous? Not just invent it but built two time machines? I thought you were supposed to be smart."

Pike ducked his head. "I didn't think something like this would happen."

"Why would Gorgiou do it?", Ash asked Cornwell.

"I don't know. She's completely lost her mind. But there's room in the Lifeboat for three passengers."

"To do what?", Michael asked, "go after her?"

"Why else would we tell you all of this?", Cornwell countered.

Michael shook her head. "No." She turned around and walked towards the door. "Never."

Cornwell ran after her, and caught up with her in the corridor.

"You're insane!", Michael called out. "Even if I believed you, I'm not traveling back in time to stop some terrorists. I'm a convicted prisoner myself."

"Not anymore", Cornwell reminded her "and we need a historian. Someone who knows about the customs and can help us keep a low profile. And don't you think our history is worth fighting for?"

Michael stopped and turned to look at her.

"I read your books", Cornwell continued, "you clearly love your job, you love history. So, don't you want to save it?"

----------

"Paul, do you have a minute?"

Cornwell had run after the woman, after she had walked out and Tilly was talking to the man, so Chris didn't have to look after any of them.

"Sure. What's up?"

"I want you to accompany Michael and Ash."

Paul hadn't stepped into a time machine since they finished the first tests. He never wanted to be the one to travel, he just wanted to make it work.

"I can't do that. Justin was the pilot, I just coordinate him from here. You know that."

Chris opened his mouth to protest, but Paul didn't let him.

"The last time I was in contact with history was in High School. I also have severe anxiety, which means I'd rather travel to hell than to what, the early 1900s? Oh, and while we're at it, did you look at us? Michael is black, Ash is middle Eastern and I'm gay. We won't be very welcome in a time full of Nazis."

Chris didn't bat an eye. "Are you finished?"

Paul nodded.

"I know, that you'll probably face some difficulties because of your identity. But you're also the best people for the job. And we both know why I want you to accompany them."

Paul returned Chris's penetrating gaze. It took him a moment to get, what his boss was getting at. When he realized, he felt sick. "Fine, I'll do it."

----------

Michael looked down at the clothes she had been given. To an outsider they may look like clothes from the 1930s, but she knew better.

If everything they did was based on this shallow knowledge, the mission was already doomed.

Agent April knocked against her door. "Are you finished? We need to hurry."

"Give me a minute", Michael called back. She picked up the blouse and started getting dressed.

When she left the changing room Agents April and Cornwell were waiting for her.

"These clothes are so inappropriate", Michael complained. "The brand of this jacket was founded in the '40s and the fabric of this skirt didn't exist back then. Just like underwire bras."

"Are you planning on showing anyone your bra?", Ash asked. He himself was wearing a fitting suit, but the hat he was holding was also from the '40s.

"It's the best we could do now", Cornwell apologized. She handed Michael several pieces of paper. "The address for the tavern and some money. Let's go."

Michael and Ash were lead to the Lifeboat, where some engineers were finishing the last tests. Cornwell instructed them: "Don't be noticed. Don't change anything. Do you understand?"

Michael nodded and Ash muttered: "Understood." Then they climbed into the Lifeboat.

It felt just like in one of those Science Fiction movies. The walls were full of displays and controls and the machines were beeping loudly. In the middle were three seats, in one of them already sat a man.

Michael and Ash sat down on the other two. "I'm Michael", she introduced herself to the other guy.

"Paul", he answered, "I'm the pilot."

"Ash."

Michael watched as Ash put on his safety belts and did the same. The belts were heavy against her chest. "Are these seat belts really necessary?", she asked Paul.

"Hell yeah", he answered. "You don't wanna know about our first trip without them."

Michael shifted slightly in her seat as she looked around. This dark, small space reminded her too much of the moments after the car crash.

Ash seemed to be perfectly relaxed. A bit too relaxed. "Have you been drinking?"

Ash smiled at her. "Well, they didn't exactly give me a day's notice."

The door of the Lifeboat closed with a soft whirring. They would start soon.

Michael stared at a point above Ash's shoulder. She had never liked roller-coasters much and this already felt like the worst roller-coaster on this planet.

"We're gonna start now", Paul announced. "You might wanna hold onto something."

Michael grabbed the armrest, while Ash gave her a reassuring smile.

The Lifeboat shook and everything shifted as they traveled through time.

Chapter Text

The moment was over rather quickly. The Lifeboat stopped shaking and Michael closed her eyes for a minute. She was feeling nauseous. A look at Ash told her that he was probably feeling the same. "Are you okay?"

Ash nodded, but he still stared at a point on the wall as if to keep his stomach under control. "Totally."

Michael loosened her safety belts and turned to Paul. "Should we get out?"

"Yeah, it should be safe to go out."

"Should be?", Michael echoed.

Paul turned to her with a lopsided smile. "It's been a while since I piloted one of those. We could have landed in a tree or a lake or something like that." He opened the door. "Time to find out."

Michael leaned out of the door. They had landed on a clearing in a forest. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's safe", she informed the two men.

They all climbed out of the Lifeboat. Ash was still slightly swaying on his feet and leaned against the hull. "Are we really here?"

"It seems like it", Michael answered. She couldn't belive it herself. But above the trees hovered the Hindenburg.

----------

Ash fell behind Michael and Paul as they walked towards the city. He was still a bit nauseous and overwhelmed.

They had really traveled to the past. He was standing in the year 1937. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

As Michael and Paul disappeared around a corner, Ash started to run to catch up to them.

"There's one thing I don't get", he started. "If this time machine really works - which apparently it does - why don't we just go back a few hours and stop Georgiou from stealing your time machine in the first place."

"Because you can't go back to a time you already exist in", Paul explained. "The possibility of you meeting yourself is really bad for the fabric of reality."

"What is 'bad' exactly?"

"We tried it once. The pilot slowly lost his mind and even-" Paul swallowed hard, "he even killed the doctor, who was taking care of him." He trailed of and sniffled quietly.

"I'm sorry." Ash dropped the topic. "How long does it take 'til we reach the city?"

"It'll be quicker if we take that bus", Michael suggests, waving at something behind her.

There was in fact a bus coming up behind them. "Perfect", Paul remarked, "let's get in contact with people earlier than necessary."

"We'll have to start somewhere", Michael replied, "and I don't want to walk an hour. This way we have more time to find Georgiou."

They got in the bus. Michael had to go to the back of the bus, where the seats for the black people were, but Ash and Paul sat down beside her.

Ash looked around at the other people. "This is so crazy", he whispered, "I still can't really believe it."

"What happens when something changes?", Michael asked Paul. "When will we know?"

"When we notice when something happens differently or when we come back to a different present."

"I read somewhere about the Butterfly Effect", Ash remembered, "couldn't we change something just by being on this bus?"

Paul nodded. "Yeah. Everything we do could have an effect on our present. But it won't be that bad if we simply are here. We just shouldn't get involved too much."

Michael shook her head. "Why would anyone want to invent that?"

"For science", Paul exclaimed. He guickly lowered his voice again. "First we wanted to know if it was possible. Then, we wanted to use it for research. Wouldn't it be cool if we could study history by experiencing it?"

The last question was directed at Michael. She nodded. "Sure, that'd be amazing. But the dangers outweigh the advantages. Especially if you travel to important events in history. It's simply not acceptable."

"Well the time machines are here now, aren't they? We have to make the best of it. And that involves making sure Georgiou doesn't wrack havoc here."

Ash zoned out of their discussion as he noticed the suspicious looks some other people were giving them. They probably thought they were insane. Or not and they'd do damage to the timeline.

"Uhh guys", he interjected, "maybe we shouldn't discuss that here."

"You're right", Paul agreed, "let's continue this later. Then Chris can say something about this too."

The bus stopped and Michael stood up. "That's our stop."

----------

They exited the bus onto an inner city street. Michael stopped dead in her tracks, looking around awestruck. "Wow", she whispered.

Ash nudged her forward. "C'mon, we gotta get to that tavern. And you could tell us something about the current situation."

"Okay." Michael made her way through the crowd, Paul and Ash following behind her. "The Hindenburg is just reaching the airfield, but she won't be able to land right away."

She paused as thunder echoed through the air. "Because of that. Light rain and high winds. So she'll make a bunch of turns, causing the air friction, building up static electricity.

"Then, at exactly 7:25 PM, the Hindenburg will throw down the mooring ropes, but the ground crew will drag the ropes through the grass and they get soaked."

"Which electrically grounds the ship, causing a spark in the metal hull", Paul concluded.

"Exactly. The spark ignites a leaking hydrogen balloon, burning 2 000 cubic liters and 36 people alive."

"So, why is Georgiou here?", Paul asked.

"Maybe she wants to kill all 97 people on bread?", Michael speculated, "make a bad thing worse?"

"Well, whatever it is, we have to find her first, as fast as possible", Ash interjected.

"And what if we do find her?"

Ash smiled at Paul. "When we find her, I'll take care of it."

Michael pointed at a building in front of them. "That's the tavern."

Ash and Michael went to open the door, but Paul held out a hand to stop them. "Michael, you should wait outside."

"But I'm the historian", she protested, "you need me."

Paul shook his head. "Black people probably aren't very welcome in there. And we don't need a fight. Ash and I will manage." Paul turned to the other man. "You look white enough if you keep your hat on."

"Good thing I'm half Scottish", Ash laughed, "but you should do the talking."

Paul sighed internally. This was exactly what he had warned Chris about. Michael and Ash would have problems with racists and Paul would have to do everything. His palms were sweaty from the thought of talking to the people in there alone. But he nodded. "Let's go."

The tavern looked exactly like Paul had imagined. Loud music and drunk people. The voices of the people mixed with the music was already starting to give him a headache. "It might be the '30s but Jersey is Jersey", Ash remarked.

"Do you see Georgiou?", Paul asked him. The sooner they could leave, the better.

"Nah. But let's start with the barkeeper. Maybe he has seen her."

"Do you really think Georgiou went here to get a drink?"

Ash shrugged. "Who knows?"

Paul rolled his eyes, but made his way over to the bar. "Uh, excuse me?"

The man didn't look up from the glass he was cleaning. "What do you want?"

Paul laid the photo of Georgiou down on the counter. "Have you seen this woman?"

The man finally stopped to look at the picture. "I haven't seen any Asians in here recently", he scoffed, "and why's she wearing pajamas?"

"Thanks for your help." Paul took the photo back and turned to Ash. "Maybe Georgiou didn't even go here", he suggested. "You heard the man. Asians aren't very welcome in here either. We should continue our search somewhere else."

Ash was looking at something behind Paul's back. "Are you even listening to me?" Now his eyes focused back on Paul.

"Mhm?"

"I asked if you were listening." Paul turned around and searched the tavern. "What's so interesting over there?"

Ash nodded towards one corner. "That woman over there. The blonde one. That's Kate Drummond. She wrote about the wars in Manchuria and Ethiopia. Let's go talk to her." With that he made his way through the crowd.

Paul had no choice but to go after him. When he reached the two Ash was already talking to Drummond. Perfect. The one thing we said he shouldn't do. Paul moved between the two and extended a hand to Drummond. "Miss Drummond, it's so nice to meet you."

Drummond shook his hand and Paul really hoped she couldn't feel how sweaty it was. "This is my cousin, Paul", Ash introduced him.

"Are you here to cover the Hindenburg's landing?", Paul asked.

Drummond nodded. "Yes, and then I'm riding her back to Europe for the coronation. There's nothing like a tight, enclosed space full of wealthy men."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't go to the Hindenburg today", Ash suggested.

Drummond raised her eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Paul interrupted the situation holding up Georgiou's picture. "Have you seen this woman?"

"Who is she? And why's she wearing pajamas?"

"She's a friend of ours."

"Yeah, I've seen her. About two hours ago. Waited outside while her friends came in here."

"What were they doing?", Ash asked. Paul didn't know how to feel about his interferences. On one hand he was glad he didn't have to do the talking on his own. On the other hand he didn't really want to get in trouble with some Nazis.

But Drummond didn't seem to have a problem with Ash. Maybe because she was focused on the game in front of her. "When the officers at the airfield need some extra hands, this is where they pick them up", she answered. "Your friend's friends are working as ground crew to help bring down the Hindenburg."

Paul and Ash exchanged a worried look. That was the perfect opportunity to sabotage the landing. Paul nodded towards the door. "We need to go now."

Chapter Text

Michael let out a sigh of relief when Paul and Ash exited the tavern again. She had been attracting stares despite her efforts not to look anyone in the eyes.

Paul and Ash were arguing. "You can't just change history just because you want to", Paul exclaimed as they came into earshot.

"But we can't just let her die. She's the reason we know where to look for Georgiou", Ash shot back.

Michael fell in beside them as they made their way down the street. "What happened?"

"Kate Drummond told us Georgiou's lackeys are part of the ground crew", Ash explained with a side eye to Paul.

"And Ash wanted to convince her not to come to the Hindenburg because she'll die there", Paul added. Michael had to agree with him.

"We can't change the past. No matter how much we might want to. Who knows what Drummond will do, if she survives this."

"But I can't just talk to her, knowing that she'll be dead in two hours!", Ash exclaimed.

"Why do you care so much about her?", Paul asked, "she's just another person from the 1930s. Everyone here is dead anyway."

"She reminds me of someone", Ash answered, before changing the subject, "when we get to the landing field, we'll split up. When one of you finds Georgiou, you'll call me, okay?"

Michael and Paul nodded. "And we will try not to change the past too much", she reminded them, "that includes not saving anyone who's dying." She waited until Ash gave in and nodded.

They reached the landing field and saw the Hindenburg hovering above them. "Wow, she is gorgeous", Paul exclaimed.

"We only have five more minutes", Michael urged, "let's go."

They split up and made their way through the crowd of spectators who had come to witness the landing. A small part of Michael wanted to tell them what was about to happen, but she didn't. History wasn't always pretty.

The Hindenburg already threw down the mooring ropes as Michael spotted Georgiou at the edge of the crowd.

She looked around to find Ash, but he was nowhere to be seen. Georgiou was already walking away, Michael had to act now. She decided to ran after Georgiou, Ash be damned.

She followed her until they reached a hangar.

Inside stood a few airplanes, but Georgiou had disappeared. That was impossible; she had-

A hand covered her mouth and an arm grabbed her from behind. Before Michael could summon the skills she'd attained during her High School martial arts club, the man behind her shoved her against a wall. Her whole body ached as it collided with the metal.

The hand over her mouth didn't disappear as the man leaned against her. "Georgiou wants to talk to you."

Suddenly another person threw themselves against the man and the two of them stumbled a few feet away.

Now Michael could identify her savior as Ash. He knocked the man to the ground and shot him in the chest.

Michael watched wide-eyed as the man fell to the ground. Paul seemed to feel similarly because he started to argue with Ash again, but Michael didn't listen.

She took a step out of the hangar to see the Hindenburg standing in the grass in front of it. They had failed. Georgiou had changed the past, not by killing people, but by saving them.

Ash stepped next to her. "Are you okay?"

"Georgiou just saved the Hindenburg", Michael replied, "so no, I'm definitely not okay."

"That's insane! How'd Georgiou do that?"

Paul looked up from where he was kneeling next to the dead man. "Her guys made sure the crewmen wrapped up the mooring ropes. This way they didn't touch the wet grass."

"Who cares about how she did it?", Michael interjected, "the important question is why she did it."

"Is it really a bad thing to save 36 people?", Ash asked.

"Did you not listen to what we've been saying since we came here? It is very bad. I don't know about you, but I'd like to return to the present we came from."

Michael knew that it was in the wrong to raise her voice like that, but she was slowly losing her nerve.

"Uh, guys", Paul spoke up. He held up a walkie-talkie. "I could rewire that to track the other walkie's signal and with that, find Georgiou."

Ash nodded. "Excellent. Do that."

While Paul worked, Ash and Michael stood silently in the doorway, watching the sunset. After a while Michael cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you. This whole thing just really stresses me out."

Ash smiles at her. "Realx, Michael, it's alright. It has been one hell of a day."

"Yeah, you can say that."

They fall silent again, before Michael spoke up again. "But you shouldn't have brought that gun."

Ash's smile didn't fall. "The one I saved you with?"

"The one from 2016. This place is full of Nazis. If they find your gun, they'll bring it to Berlin. We are only a few years away from World War 2. A weapon from the future could have devastating consequences."

"I'm sorry. I know that it is your job to protect history. But it is my job to protect you and also eliminate Georgiou. And I can do that best with my gun. I promise I'll be careful."

Michael rolled her eyes but didn't answer. This job would be hard, especially considering the zeppelin standing in front of them. And Ash was definitely making it harder for her.

She could understand him. He was a soldier, he probably had seen enough people die and he just wanted to get the job done. But she just couldn't ignore all the years of history that could be destroyed with a single wrong step.

Paul interrupted their discussion. "Hey, guys?"

They go back to the desk Paul was working on. "Turns out I can't track Georgiou, as this", Paul held up the walkie-talkie, "isn't actually a walkie anymore. Someone modified it into a detonator."

"You mean for a bomb?", Michael asked.

Ash took the walkie-talkie out of Paul's hands and studied it. "He's right. But where would Georgiou set up a bomb?"

Michael felt the blood drain from her face as a terrifying thought came to her. "The Hindenburg", she exclaimed, "she will carry all sorts of important people back to Europe for the coronation. What if Georgiou saved her, to blow her up later on her way back?"

Silence was her answer as the two men considered what she'd said. Finally Paul spoke up: "Well, then we'll have to find a way to-"

"Hands up!"

All three of them flinched as a commanding voice cut through the air. They turned around, hands up, and came face to face with two policemen. A third one lifted the cloth they'd covered the corpse with.

"You'll have to come with me", one of the men said.

---

They were shoved into cells, Ash and Michael in one, Paul in a separate one. He guessed Ash didn't look white enough for the police.

"Please, just call the airfield and tell them that the Hindenburg is in danger!", Michael tried, but of course she was ignored.

Instead, one of the guards came up to Paul. "Listen here", he said quietly, "I can't imagine you cooperating with those two." He nodded towards the other cell and it was clear what he meant. "If you tell us why they shot that poor man, we'll let you go", he suggested.

Paul shook his head. "No, thank you."

"Oh come on. You can't seriously be more loyal to them than to your own people."

Paul didn't reply to this. He just sat down on the bunk and hoped the guard would go away. Luckily he did.

Ash leaned against the bars. "I can't believe this counted as a lock back then."

Michael perked up. "You can open it? I already started this day in prison, I don't want to end it there too."

"I mean, I could. If I had a hairpin, which I'm guessing you don't have."

Michael sat down on the bunk as well. "Great. The Hindenburg will leave just before dawn, so we don't have much time."

"So we just rot in here, while all these people die. While ...", he trailed off.

"Kate dies?", Michael finished for him.

Paul sighed silently. They really weren't a good team. At every opportunity they started to argue. Maybe Chris had been wrong. Maybe them being good at their job was irrelevant, if they couldn't work together. If they could've done that, maybe they wouldn't have this problem now.

"Why do you care so much about her?", he asked Ash, before he and Michael could start another argument.

Ash sighed heavily. "Like I said, she reminds me of someone. My mother. She was a fan of hers and they even look alike."

"You were close?", Michael asked.

Ash nodded. "Yeah. But she died when I was in college. That's the reason I went to the army. I wanted to run away from the memories."

Paul nodded slowly. He could understand the feeling of wanting to run away. He himself still struggled with Hugh's ghost. He didn't know what he would do, would he be in Ash's situation. "I'm sorry."

Michael stood up and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Me too. I can understand why you want to save her. And now that history is already trashed, what does one person matter?"

Ash seemed to be surprised at that and Paul had to admit that he was too. But Michael was right. Their history already didn't exist anymore. "Thank you", Ash smiled.

Then the door opened again and the guard came back. He sat down behind the desk and started to look through the stuff they'd taken from Ash, Michael and Paul.

Paul didn't pay much attention to him or Ash and Michael, who had started to talk quietly.

What should they do now? There was no way Michael or Ash would get out of here. Even if the police would be convinced they didn't shoot the man, they were people of color. They probably wouldn't come very far.

And Paul wasn't a fighter. Even if they'd let him go, there's no way in hell he'd be able to rescue them, let alone stop Georgiou. No matter what, there was no way out.

Then Ash hissed in his direction. Paul couldn't hear what he was saying, but luckily he was decent at lip reading. "Make a distraction."

Paul looked over to the guard, who was still holding Ash's gun, than back at Ash. Even though his mouth had gone dry, he nodded.

"Um, excuse me?" The guard looked up. "I thought about your offer."

The man came over to him and leaned against the bars. "Yeah? You decided to choose the right side of history?"

Paul resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Suddenly doing this guy a favor, even just as a distraction, was really unappealing.

"The incident in the hangar is a nice propaganda story for you, isn't it? A poor white man, shot by two people of color. But you know what? It isn't that easy. You can't base someone's identity on the way they look. I'm probably not someone you'd want in your team, despite being the palest person in the city. Because I'm gay. And you guys really want to discriminate against people for all the things they cannot change. But you're wrong. One day we'll win and I really hope that you'll live long enough to witness that. I hope you'll see the Stonewall riots or Martin Luther King or Obama being the fucking president of your country. I hope you see it because then you'll have enough time to realize that in reality you are on the wrong side of history."

Some part of Paul was surprised at what he'd just said and the guard seemed to be as well. He turned on his heels and left.

Paul had just enough time to hear Ash order Michael to take off her bra - What the fuck? - before the guard returned with a baton.

Paul stepped back until he hit the wall, while the guard opened his cell. He looked over to Ash who was trying to pick their lock. He wouldn't make it on time.

Paul looked the guard in the eye as he raised the baton. He wouldn't do him the favor to be scared.

The moment before the baton hit Paul, Ash threw himself against the guard. Paul could only watch as Ash knocked him out. "Thanks."

"Come on, quick!", Michael urged them.

Chapter Text

At the time they reached the Hindenburg all passengers were already on board and she would start any moment now.

Ash, Michael and Paul hurried through the corridors, looking for Georgiou, one of her people, or the bomb itself.

The happy atmosphere on board felt suffocating to Michael. Everything was so wrong.

They turned around a corner and a woman ran right into Ash. Michael recognized her immediately. Kate Drummond. The woman Ash was so keen on saving.

"Now, that is a surprise", Drummond called out. "I didn't expect you here."

"We need your help", Ash began, "the ship is in danger. Someone planted a bomb and we're trying to find it. The woman on the picture we showed you, she planted the bomb. Please, help us."

Drummond thought about it for a moment, before nodding. "I saw them. Follow me."

Drummond led them to the kitchen. "One of her friends came out of here in a hurry", she explained.

"Michael, look over there, Paul, you over there", Ash instructed.

Michael began looking through boxes full of vegetables and fruits. It reminded her that it had been an eternity since she'd last eaten, but she didn't find a bomb anywhere.

She stopped when Ash called: "Hey! I found it!" He detached the bomb from under a table. The countdown was at a little over five minutes. "We have to get it off the ship now!"

"Uh, that might be a problem", Paul interjected. Michael spun around. Paul pointed out a window that only showed the dark sky. The Hindenburg had started. "What do we do now?"

Ash exhaled loudly. "I've got it." He set the bomb down on the table and started to work on it.

Michael looked over his shoulder. The countdown had gone down to four minutes. Time was running out. "You've defused a bomb before, right?", she asked Ash.

He shook his head. "I've seen it done and had some training in Afghanistan."

"Since when were we fighting in Afghanistan?", Drummond asked. Michael had totally forgotten her, but she didn't have the nerve to answer the other woman. Her focus was on Ash and the bomb.

He turned to her. "You and Paul need to get the ship to land again. If I can't defuse the bomb in time, the people need to get off."

"How do we do that?", Paul wanted to know.

Ash shrugged. "Improvise. You were pretty good earlier in prison."

Paul wanted to object but Michael grabbed his arm and dragged him along. She had an idea. "Take a knife." She grabbed a paring knife and Paul, while confused, did the same.

"Why do we need knives?", he asked as Michael led them towards the bridge.

"Ever heard of the Anarchist Black Cross?" Paul shook his head.

"They're an anarchistic organization, founded in the early 1900s. They might want to sabotage a zeppelin full off Nazis, what do you think?"

Paul nodded slowly. "So we're going to pretend to be the terrorists who planted the bomb? I'd rather not go back to that prison, y'know?"

"That's a risk we have to take", Michael smiled apologetically.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "Chris owes me something after this", he murmured, before looking back to Michael. "Let's go."

----------

After Michael and Paul had gone, Ash went back to the bomb. The countdown now was at three minutes and the glowing digits screaming it at his face weren't exactly helpful.

Neither was Kate, who was silently looking over his shoulder, undoubtedly trying to make sense of that futuristic technology.

When the countdown went down to 1:36 Ash couldn't bear the silence anymore. "Ask me something."

"What?"

"Ask me something, anything. It relaxes me to talk."

"Well, where the hell did this glowing clock come from?", Kate asked.

Trying to preserve history while simultaneously trying to defuse a bomb wasn't exactly relaxing, but Ash answered regardless.

"Okay, so, I know this is hard to believe, but I'm gonna tell you the truth." He looked up at Kate, but struggled to maintain a serious face, so he quickly looked back down. "My name is Buck Roger's and this thing here came from outer space."

Kate smiled at him, but he could see the slight annoyance behind it. Then it morphed into panic, as a big knife was rammed into the table in front of her.

Ash flinched as Georgiou's lackey punched him in the face. He quickly recovered, though, and his army training took over.

The man was an equal opponent and the fight could go on forever, without one of them winning.

That's his plan, Ash realized, he's trying to distract me, until the bomb goes off.

Luckily the man hadn't expected Kate. While the man pushed Ash down on the ground, she hit him hard on the head with a pan. He collapsed onto Ash.

He quickly pushed the man off him and stumbled back to the bomb. Only 17 seconds left. He cut through the last wires and the clock went out. "Yes!"

He was alarmed as Kate screamed: "Don't shoot, you idiot!" Georgiou's man stood again, his gun pointed at Ash.

Kate reacted quickly. She grabbed the man's arm and yanked it upwards. The shot went straight through the ceiling and a loud bang could be heard as something exploded.

Ash froze. History was repeating itself. The shot had ignited the hydrogen, like it was supposed to have happened the day before.

He recovered quickly and he and Kate hurried back through the corridors. A tremble sent them both to the ground. The Hindenburg had crashed.

Georgiou's man hurried after them, gun again pointed at Ash. But before he could pull the trigger, the flames overcame him.

Ash watched in horror as the man burned to death. That would be their fate as well, if they didn't get out of there quickly.

He climbed up to a window and smashed it. He sent Kate out first and followed behind her.

The moment his feet touched the grass a massive fragment of the Hindenburg's hull crashed down next to him.

He shielded his face against the debris and when he looked again he was met with a nightmare.

Kate laid on the ground, half buried by the metal. Ash fell on his knees next to her. "Kate! Kate, can you hear me?"

She didn't react. He pressed his fingers against her throat, but there was no pulse.

Ash closed his eyes, as tears spilled out from under his lashes. This situation was way too familiar. When he opened his eyes again, the woman in front of him wasn't Kate anymore, it was his mom, crushed by the debris of a crashed plane.

The tears blurred his vision and his mother's face faded, morphed back into Kate's.

He had failed. He hadn't managed to save the people on board of the Hindenburg, hadn't managed to save Kate. He had even managed to loose Michael and Paul. He had failed.

Ash buried his face in his hands as sobs wracked his body. He didn't care about the burning debris and screaming people around him.

It didn't matter if he died now. Without Paul, he wouldn't be able to return to the present anyway. And Paul was dead because of him. Michael was dead because of him. Kate was dead because of him.

Chapter Text

Michael watched as Paul ran off to a crying girl standing alone in the middle of the chaos.

She turned around to look for Ash, but stopped dead in her tracks. In front of her stood Georgiou. "It's time we talked."

Michael's gaze darted to the gun in Georgiou's hand and back to her face. "Is that an invitation or an order?"

Georgiou grinned at her. "Consider it a forced invitation."

"What do you want?

"You need to understand who and what you're dealing with."

"I understand", Michael scoffed, "that you're a psychopath trying to destroy everything."

Georgiou was still smiling and it was slowly driving Michael insane. She didn't seem like someone threatening, but the fact remained that she had killed her family, and destroyed history. "That completely depends on your point of view, Michael."

Michael took a step back, as if Georgiou had physically punched her. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, I know everything about you", Georgiou responded, as if it wasn't a big deal, "even things you don't even know about yourself. Your parents died because of an armed robbery. You still miss them, but you feel guilt for it, because it feels like you're betraying your adopted family."

Michael took another step back. That was impossible. There was now way this woman she'd never met before could know all of this. Admittedly, she also thought time travel to be impossible before today. "How ...?"

Georgiou took two steps towards Michael until they were again standing face to face. "You wanna know how I know all that?" Michael nodded silently.

Georgiou took out a book. When she opened it, Michael realized it was a diary.

Georgiou flipped to a random page and held it, so Michael could read it. Michael's breath caught as she read her own handwriting, detailing the moon landing. She shook her head. "That can't be. I didn't write that."

"Not yet", Georgiou replied, closing the diary again, "but you will." Suddenly, her tone became more serious. "I know what you're really meant to be, Michael. And it isn't to spend ten years in prison."

"Why would I believe anything you told me? You killed your own family!" She was screaming now, but she didn't care. This woman was intimidating in a way she couldn't quite grasp and this whole situation was making her really uncomfortable.

Her last words seemed to do something with Georgio. Her face went cold. "Listen here, Michael. Ask them why they really chose you for this mission. And ask them what Rittenhouse is."

----------

Ash didn't know how long he sat there, until a hand fell onto his shoulder. He looked up to see Paul crouching in front of him. He shook his head to clear it, but after that, Paul was still there. And then he started to talk.

"C'mon, Ash, we gotta go!"

"Paul? You ... you're alive?" Paul nodded and Ash looked around for Michael. He couldn't see her. "Where's Michael?"

"Over there. We split up to better help the passengers and now she's talking to Georgiou. I'm sorry about Kate and I know you probably don't feel too good but we still have to complete our mission."

Ash scrambled to his feet, a burning rage at Georgiou filling his entire body. She was responsible for all of this. Because of her Kate had died. Ash wouldn't let her hurt his ... friend? coworker? He wasn't sure.

Paul led him to the two women, who seemed to only be talking, although Ash could see the gun pointed at Michael. "Get away!", he called to Paul, before running towards Georgiou and Michael.

When Georgiou saw him coming, she grabbed Michael and pressed the gun against her forehead. Ash winced slightly at Michael's surprised scream, but kept his gun aimed at Georgiou.

She only scoffed. "I know for a fact that you're not gonna shoot." She now pointed her gun at him and Ash saw his chance.

He aimed at Georgiou's shoulder above Michael's head and shot. The bullet hit and Georgio shoved Michael away while simultaneously shooting at Ash. He easily dodged, before kneeling down next to Michael. He didn't care that Georgiou used this opportunity to flee.

"Are you okay?"

"My hand hurts a bit, but it's not bad. Where's Georgiou?"

"She escaped", Paul informed them. "I tried to follow her, but I lost her. She'll most likely go back to the present now that the Hindenburg is destroyed."

Michael nodded, while Ash pulled her to her feet. "You're right. We should go back too. We can't do anything here anymore."

"Do you know where we parked?", Ash asked. He didn't have a great sense of direction and he doubted they'd find any busses now.

"Yeah, of course I do, I had to calculate the coordinates manually", Paul snapped. Ash could've sworn that he saw sadness in Paul's expression, before he turned away, but it was too quick to be sure. "Let's go."

----------

Michael couldn't get Georgiou's words out of her head. Ask them what Rittenhouse is. She didn't know whether she should belive her or not. On one hand she was a lunatic psychopath, but on the other she had sounded genuine. The diary had been written with Michael's handwriting, even though she couldn't imagine how.

Had it something to do with time travel? She didn't know enough about it to answer that. Maybe she could ask Paul.

"Ready?" Paul's voice interrupted Michael's thoughts. She hadn't even realized they'd entered the Lifeboat.

"Yeah."

"Mhm."

This time the flight was slightly less overwhelming and Michael didn't feel as nauseous anymore. But maybe that was because Georgiou's words were distracting her so much.

Would she even have the opportunity to ask anyone about Rittenhouse? They'd failed their mission, surely the government would look for someone more capable. She would be brought back to her cell and forced to forget about today.

Even though Michael had wanted nothing more than to return to prison and serve her sentence as soon as possible, she didn't want that anymore. She wanted to find out what Georgiou had meant and she also wanted to stop her.

If she returned to prison, she wouldn't know if Georgiou or the team sent to stop her would change the past. She could wake up remembering something that didn't happen. As a historian, that thought hurt a lot.

The door of the Lifeboat opened and Paul sighed. "Home, sweet home."

Michael exited the Lifeboat to be met with countless expectant stares.

She made her way over to Pike and Cornwell, Ash and Paul following behind. "What do you know about the Hindenburg?"

"Not much I'm afraid", Pike answered. "I'm not too good in history."

"Can we check some reports on it, maybe?"

"Sure." Pike quickly searched for something about the Hindenburg on a computer. "I found something", he announced not long after.

"The Hindenburg exploded early in the morning of May the 7th, 1937", Pike read the newspaper article on his screen, "it was bombed by the Anarchist Black Cross. There were only two casualties. Journalist Kate Drummond and a man, whose body couldn't be identified."

"So to you, this is how it went down? This is now our history?", Ash asked.

"That's definitely how I learned it in High School", a young woman with bright red hair answered.

"That's not how it happened to us", Michael explained. "Before we went back the Hindenburg exploded on May 6th because of an accident. Georgiou planted the bomb and the Anarchist Black Cross ... that was us." She didn't dare looking into Pike's eyes.

But Cornwell was the one to speak next: "What?"

"We had some problems", Paul admitted.

"Georgiou wanted a lot more than two deaths. She wanted to blow the Hindenburg up with everyone on board. We managed to stop her but meanwhile we messed up the past too." She looked over at Pike's computer screen. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"Did you see her?", Cornwell asked.

"Yes. I even spoke to her", Michael told her.

Cornwell's eyes widened. "Really? What did she say?"

"She said I should ask you why you really chose me. And what Rittenhouse means."

She hoped to finally get some answers and still her thoughts, but Cornwell looked just as confused as her. "I have no idea what she means. I really don't." It was possible that she was lying, but Michael didn't think so. From what she knew Cornwell had been just as surprised as she had been about this time travel.

"Paul, can you find out where Georgiou is now?", Pike asked.

"The Lifeboat's CPU says that she's back in the present but we still don't know where."

"Why don't we just go back to '37? Try again?", Ash asked.

"Don't you remember what I told you about existing twice in a time?", Paul snapped, "I don't know about you, but I'm not really keen on losing my mind to the point where I attack my friends."

If they couldn't go back and try again, they'd have to find out what Georgiou would do next. If they could anticipate her next move, then they'd have better chances at stopping her. What was her plan? She had wanted to kill the people on board the Hindenburg. John D. Rockefeller Jr., Omar Bradley, Igor Sikorsky, Franklin D. Roosevelt. Roosevelt ... "I have a theory."

They all turned to look at her. "Any anti-goverment wack-job can get a few barrels of fertilizer and blow up a federal building. That won't change anything, except for their life planning. Our institutions are too established, but in the past they weren't. I'm afraid Georgiou is trying to destroy the US before it existed. Rewrite history before it's even written."

She was met with silence, as the others considered her words.

Cornwell was the first to speak again: "None of you are to say a word about any of this, under penalty of treason. You're dismissed for now. If we need you, we'll call you."

"Wait", Michael called out at the same time as Paul echoed: "For now?"

"Nothing has changed", Cornwell explained, "Georgiou still has the Mothership and if Michael's theory is correct we need someone to stop her. You are those people. When she uses it again, we will call you. Understood?"

Michael could only nod.

----------

Paul watched as Ash and Michael got ready to leave.

He could still see the impact Kate's death had had on Ash. He had also seen the hope in Ash's eyes as he asked about a second try. He had still hoped to get her back somehow.

That was a feeling Paul new all too well. He had managed to live with it and it had even became less during the last two years. But Ash was still just at the beginning of this journey.

As he turned to leave, Paul ran after him. "Ash, wait!"

Ash turned around. "What do you want?" Paul winced at the rough tone. Maybe Ash hadn't forgiven him for his impatience earlier.

"I'm sorry about being so rude", he began. "This whole thing is just ... a touchy subject for me."

He stared at Ash's feet but could still hear him exhale. "It's okay. I'm sorry too. All this stuff with time travel and Kate is just a lot."

Now Paul met the other man's gaze. "I actually wanted to say that I'm sorry about Kate's death. I can understand what you feel now. The hardest lesson I ever had to learn about working with a time machine is that sometimes you can't save those you love. No matter how much you might want to."

Ash nodded slowly as Paul's words registered in his brain. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Take care."

"You too." With that Ash stepped into the elevator. Paul stood there for another moment, staring at the closed doors, processing this conversation.

He was surprised by himself. Normally he didn't open up to strangers that quickly. But then again, normally he didn't travel to the 1930s with those strangers. Maybe that experience binds you.

"Paul, can we talk?", he heard Chris's voice from behind and froze.

He had always liked his boss, he had always tried to be a friend to his employees and Paul had worked with him from the very start. Over the years Chris had become something like a brother to him. But now he was afraid of this conversation.

What Chris had asked him to do, what he had done, that wasn't acceptable. No matter how much Chris's superiors had pressured him.

Paul took a deep breath and turned around. "Yeah."

"You have something for me?"

Paul took the voice recorder out of his pocket and handed it to Chris without looking him in the eyes. "I didn't get everything. Sometimes they were out of earshot."

Chris activated the recorder and Michael's voice sounded: "Who cares about how she did it? The important question is why she did it."

Paul swallowed hard. "I'm not at all comfortable with this", he informed Chris.

Chris turned around to meet his gaze and something dark laid in his eyes. "Do you think I'm comfortable with any of this?"

Without waiting for a reply he left.

Paul again just stood there, not knowing what to do. Normally he'd talk about this with Justin, but he wasn't there anymore and the other friends Paul had just made were the ones he had to spy on.

He'd joined Pike Industries on this project because science had always fascinated him. He hadn't intended to get involved in government drama. Let alone with Chris being the one to theaten him.

The sound of approaching footsteps made him turn around again. Tilly stood in front of him, smiling nervously.

"Why are you still here, Tilly? You should really go home."

"I, uhm, I was planning on going home, but I was wondering, if you ... if you wanted to go eat something with me? Not as a date of course", she hurried to add, "I'm just worried about you."

Paul couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. Tilly might only be his trainee, but she was quickly starting to grow on him. He could really use a distraction right now and he was starving. "Yeah, let's go."

Her expression told him she hadn't expected a yes.

----------

Michael noticed rather quickly that April wasn't driving her back to the prison. "Where are you taking me?"

"Your house."

Michael didn't have a problem with that anymore. She still thought it was important to serve her sentence, but their mission was more important for now. Maybe it was too complicated to get her out of there each time they needed her help.

What she had a problem with though was the house April stopped in front of. That wasn't the house of her family. In fact, she didn't know that house at all.

"Didn't you say you'd drive me to my house?"

"This is your house?", April answered, sounding slightly confused, "at least that's the house I picked you up at and it's your address."

Michael's blood ran cold. Was this another change caused by their time travel? Did it impact her personally now?

She nodded to April and scrambled out of the car and up the stairs. Luckily she found the keys in her pocket and managed to open the door after the third try.

She entered her house, not knowing what to expect. The first thing she saw was a commode in the hallway. A commode she recognized. In the house of her biological family the same commode had stood. It had belonged to her mother. Could it be ...

"Mom?"

A few seconds passed and Michael waited on bated breath, until she heard her mother's reply: "Yeah?"

In that moment Michael forgot all precautions. She practically ran through the door down the hall and found herself in the living room.

Her mother was there, cutting vegetables in the joined kitchen. "Hi, sweetheart", she greeted Michael, "how was your day?"

Michael just stared. As she stood in front of her mother, who she'd last seen twenty years ago, she suddenly forgot how to speak.

Her mom seemed to notice that something was wrong. "Is everything okay, Michael?"

She laid down the knife and came over to her. Michael's body operated on autopilot and she wrapped her mom in a tight embrace. Her perfume was still the same as Michael remembered and she was warm and soft and alive.

"Oh mom", Michael whispered, as she finally regained control over her body at the same time as tears started to pool in her eyes. "I missed you."

"We just saw each other this morning. What happened to you?"

Michael stept back and shook her head, trying to get her emotions under control. "Nothing. Just ... a stressful day at work."

Her mom laughed. "I can imagine. Now with all the exams, I'm sure your students aren't the easiest."

So she was a college professor here as well. At least something stayed the same.

"Come on, let's sit down." Michael's mom took her hand and stopped. "What happened to your ring?"

"My what?"

Now her mother was staring at her. Great. "Your engagement ring. Don't tell me you've forgotten?"

"No, of course not", Michael laughed, although she started to feel nauseous again. Apparently her whole life had changed because of the Hindenburg. Her mom was alive, she was engaged, Spock ...

If my mom's still lives, Amanda and Sarek never adopted me, Michael realized with horror. This day had given her her mother back, but it had also taken her adoptive family.

She had to admit to herself, that she didn't think this was an improvement.

Chapter Text

Michael had to admit that she was glad when her phone rang and she had to excuse herself from her mom.

"Hello?"

"We need you to come in again", Cornwell's voice sounded. Michael really shouldn't be surprised that she had her number. "April will pick you up again."

"When did she go?"

"We'll brief you once you get here."

"Understood", Michael hung up to look into her mom's confused expression. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. There's an emergency at work."

"Now? What happened?"

"I'm sorry mom, I can't tell you now, I really need to go."

"Okay then, when will you be back?"

Michael stopped mid putting on her jacket to look at her mother briefly. "I don't know."

Her mom seemed to give up, she backed off a few steps. "Fine. Just ... don't forget about tomorrow night, okay?"

Michael nodded, even though she had no idea what her mom was talking about. Then she left the house and it somehow felt like she was fleeing.

April's car was already waiting outside her door. He drove way past the speed limit through the empty streets. Michael wasn't sure why he was in such a hurry. It didn't matter how long they took now, when they could choose the point in time they'd travel back to, right? Maybe she just didn't understand time travels well enough to know that. But then, she doubted April knew that much about it either.

When they entered the hangar, Pike and Cornwell were already waiting. Ash, Paul and the red-haired woman arrived at the same time as Michael and April.

Michael hurried towards them. "Hey! What changed in your lives?"

"What do you mean?", Ash asked.

"Since we got back, what has changed for you?"

"I just had to tell the wife of my best friend that he was kidnapped without being able to tell her why", Paul remarked, "so, sadly, nothing."

"For me nothing as well", Ash answered more kindly, "why?"

"My whole family's gone!", Michael exclaimed. "When I was ten my parents were killed and I was adopted", she explained further, "but now my mom is back and therefore I never met my family."

"Something that Georgiou or we did to the Hindenburg must've had a bigger impact on the timeline than just changed history books", Paul thought out loud.

"This isn't one of your scientific experiments", Michael called out, "my whole life has changed because of that."

"Michael", Cornwell interrupted, "we have a dossier on you, and it doesn't say anything about a death of one of your parents."

Michael spun around to look at her. "I just told you that that's what happened to me. It just hasn't happened to anyone else."

She grabbed her necklace and showed it to the others. "Look. This is my adopted brother, Spock."

Pike grabbed the necklace to inspect the picture. "You wore this on the trip back to 1937?" Michael nodded. "That is incredible. You took it from a different timeline into ours."

Michael ripped the necklace out of his hands. "Can you all just stop acting like this is just the next discovery in your research? This is my life, we're talking about!"

"Uhh, I'm sorry to interrupt, but don't we have a mission to do?", the red-haired woman interjected.

"You're right", Cornwell nodded, "we can talk about this after you come back, but you have to go after Georgiou now."

"I won't go anywhere until we've figured this out", Michael protested.

"Michael ..."

"Hey!", Ash interrupted her, "You dragged her into all this. She just lost her family, give her a damn minute."

Michael gave him a thankful look, he nodded back.

Cornwell exhaled audibly. "Michael, Georgiou went back to April 14th, 1865. You need to get moving and you", she turned to Ash, "need to eliminate Philippa Georgiou. Are we clear?"

Ash looked to Michael for approval. It was nice to see that he cared about her a little. Maybe they could become friends after all. She nodded back at him. Cornwell was right in this. If Georgiou managed to sabotage the assassination of Abraham Lincoln her family problems wouldn't matter anymore. "We're going to talk about this when we get back", she demanded.

"Fine", Cornwell gave in, "but now go. Tilly will assist you while dressing."

With that she and Pike left. Michael turned to the red-haired woman, Tilly, who smiled widely at her. "Come on. Let's get this done."

The two woman turned to leave, but Ash called out after them: "Wait! What's so important about April 14th, 1865?"

"The assassination of Abraham Lincoln", Michael responded. The shocked faces of Paul and Ash told her that they understood the importance of their current mission as well. "Okay, we'll better hurry", Paul decided.

Ash nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

----------

Tilly led Michael to one of the dressing rooms.

She could barely hold back the questions burning on her tongue. She had already peppered Paul with questions during dinner, but she still had so many more.

Time travel fascinated her and she was so lucky Paul had chosen her. But the downsides of their research never really occurred to her. Michael had just lost her whole life because of it and Tilly didn't know how to act.

It took her quite some time to tie Michael's dress because her hands shook with nervousness.

While taking a pause to rub her sweaty hands on her jeans, she noticed Michael was staring down at her necklace.

Tilly opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself. She doesn't need you to tell them your feelings, her mother had told her when her aunt had had a miscarriage, it won't change anything anyway. Talk again when you have a plan to help her. Eight year old Sylvia hadn't spoken to her aunt for the rest of that week.

Now she felt the same helplessness as back then. She hated seeing other people hurt, but she couldn't do anything to help them feel better. Or could she?

"I, uhm, I could try to figure out what happened to your family, if you want", she suggested.

Michael perked up. "What?"

"Y'know, I could try to find out why your mom's still alive or what your adopted family is up to in this timeline. If you want."

Michael turned her head as far as she could to try to look at Tilly. "You could do that?"

"Yeah, it's not like we have much to do while you're gone. You'd just have to tell me some things about your family, biological or adopted, that I can search for."

Michael turned around completely now, causing Tilly to let go of her dress. "You would do that for me?"

Tilly nodded, not meeting Michael's eyes. "I'm glad if I can help." She gestured vaguely at Michael's chest. "Let's just finish this first."

----------

When Paul entered Chris's office, he was watching the security footage of Georgiou stealing the Mothership on loop.

"Philippa Georgiou", he began, as Paul stepped beside him, "she went straight for Justin. She knew he was the best pilot, even though you're the project leader."

Paul watched on the screen as Georgiou shoved Justin inside the Mothership. Even in the recording he could see his best friend's fear.

Paul wondered how Justin was doing right now. Did his friend have to fear for his life? Probably not, he had to be alive to pilot the Mothership. But would that stop Georgiou from torturing him to get what she wanted? He clenched his hands into fists and shut his eyes closed, as tears threatened to fall. I wish they'd taken me instead.

"How did Georgiou know so much about us?", Chris's voice set a stop to Paul's panicked thoughts.

He held out a recording device, but Paul hesitated. Chris noticed that too.

"Is there a problem?" He sounded annoyed.

During all these years working together, Paul had never seen this side of him before. He'd been angry before, disappointed, and he'd push Paul past his limits sometimes, but he'd never been threatening. It made Paul wonder what Rittenhouse had said to him to force him to act so much unlike himself. And what Georgiou knew about them to tell Michael about.

"What do they do with these recordings?", he asked, "why does Rittenhouse even need them?"

Chris spun around to face him. "Don't ever mention that name again", he growled, but Paul could see that his anger was only masking his fear.

Wordlessly Paul took the recorder and left.

He knew what Rittenhouse could do and he didn't want to draw their attention to himself or Chris. If that meant recording his mission with Ash and Michael, he'd do it. That didn't mean he was comfortable with it, though.

----------

Ash climbed into the Lifeboat, where Paul was already starting the engines - or whatever it was they needed to travel. Like himself Paul was wearing a military uniform of that time. Or at least a very bad replica of those uniforms.

"Trick or treat", Ash joked as he sat down.

Paul sighed. "Trust me, I'm more than aware that I'm not a real soldier."

"Where did these costumes even come from?", Ash asked.

"Civil War re-enactors club."

Ash stopped and looked up at Paul's back. "You're joking."

"I wish I was. It'd be a lot easier if we were better prepared for each time Georgiou might decide to jump to."

Ash turned around as Michael's head appeared in front of the door, before disappearing again. Then she swung her leg inside the Lifeboat and pulled herself up.

As she stood up, Ash realized why she'd had sich trouble getting in. Her dress was twice as big as he was and Michael apparently had problems moving in it.

That thought was confirmed when a part of said dress hit Ash in the face.

"Sorry", Michael apologized, while she finally sat down, "I have no idea how anyone managed to move in these things."

"You should probably be glad that you can wear this and not some sort of slave outfit."

"You're right. Lincoln really did a lot for black people."

They fell silent, waiting for Paul to finish the preparations. It took him longer than the last time.

After a while Ash spoke again: "I'm really sorry about your family, Michael."

"Thank you", she smiled slightly, "for backing me up with Agent Cornwell as well."

"No problem", he paused, "we're gonna fix this, I promise. We're gonna fix everything."

Her smile grew some more and it seemed like she wanted to say something, but Paul interrupted them: "Sorry to interrupt you, but we're ready to start."

Michael exhaled slowly and nodded. "Okay."

Ash nodded as well and closed his eyes, determined not to give his stomach another reason to protest. He'd like to keep his dinner.

He vaguely registered the whirring of the closing door, then the Lifeboat shook as they were pulled through time and space.

Chapter Text

Traveling back in time was even harder than the last time.

Paul started to regret always procrastinating instead of doing the monthly navigation practice. He'd never really thought it necessary, seeing as they had had four other pilots. He never thought he'd be the only pilot left to save their timeline.

He landed the Lifeboat in a forest again. It was less likely to be noticed this way and he couldn't accidentally crush someone or something.

"Please tell me this gets easier", Ash groaned.

"The nausea gets better once you get used to it."

"Oh thank god", Michael murmured.

He waited until the shaking had stopped, before opening the door. They could see fireworks exploding in the dark sky.

"What's that for?", Ash asked.

"The Civil War just ended", Michael sounded in awe, "they're celebrating the peace."

----------

This time they walked to the city in silence. Michael was watching the fireworks. The people were so happy and hopeful for a better future, now that the North had won. But the assassination of Abraham Lincoln would destroy all of that. Tomorrow night he would be dead.

Michael wondered briefly if they could prevent John Wilkes Booth from killing Lincoln, but she dismissed the thought immediately.

She had said to Ash that he couldn't change the past no matter how much he might want to and the same applied to her.

She had to admit that it had been easier to say it to someone else.

When they arrive in the City it's already morning. The people who celebrated the night before had all gone home by now.

A group of black soldiers passed them, one of them nodded to Michael. Her heart ached knowing that their happiness wouldn't last very long.

"Poor guys", Paul remarked, "they think everything will get better now. Which it won't after Lincoln's shot."

Michael knew that he was also thinking about preventing this outcome. She was glad when Ash changed the subject.

"What do you think Georgiou's up to?"

"She's got to be here to change the assassination."

"But how?", Ash asked, "it can't get worse than it already is, can it?"

"I don't know. But I do know where John Wilkes Booth is going to be in a few. Let's wait for him and hope he takes us to Georgiou."

"Okay. Lead the way."

Michael lead them to Ford's Theatre. It felt so surreal, standing here in the midst of history she'd read so much about. She could cite the course of events on that day in her sleep and now she'd be able to witness it.

"So, Booth walks into Ford's Theatre at exactly 10 AM?", Paul wanted to know.

"Yeah."

"You sure?", Ash added, "not 9:56 or 10:07?"

"Hundrets of books have been written about Booth's movements today, so yeah, I am sure."

"And surely you read all of them."

Michael raised her eyebrows. "Of course. I even wrote one of them myself."

She ignored Ash's disbelieving scoff. Instead she turned to Paul as he asked: "So, why is Booth coming here now? Is he preparing for tonight?" It was very clear, that he hadn't read any of said history books.

"No, he's an actor. He knew Ford's Theatre like the back of his hand. He used it as his mailing adress and picked up his mail at exactly 10 AM."

"An actor", Ash echoed, "really?"

"Pretty well known too. But his brother, Edwin, was literally the most famous actor in America. John never quite measured up."

"So this is like if Donnie Wahlberg shot the president?", Paul asked.

It took Michael a few moments to figure out who he was talking about, but then she nodded. "That's actually a very good parallel. I should include that in my next class."

After they waited for a while longer, Ash became restless. "Come on, let's go inside", he suggested. "Paul, you wait outside, okay? If you find Booth or Georgiou, come get us fast."

Paul nodded. "Okay."

Michael and Ash entered the Theatre. It was dark and they both stopped for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the lights.

"Hello?", Ash shouted, as they made their way to the stage. They didn't get a response. "Did any of your books tell you where the mailboxes were?"

Michael shook her head. "They were more focused on Booth and Lincoln than on the Ford's Theatre."

"Okay then. Let's split up. If you find anything, come get me."

"Okay." Michael turned left, while Ash went to the right.

She wandered aimlessly through a couple of doors and after a while she honestly didn't know if she could find her way back. But she did find the mailboxes.

Booth's mail was still there. Good, so they hadn't missed him.

"Oh, pardon me, miss." Michael spun around at the voice. "I'm General Grant's aide", a man introduced himself.

As he took of his hat Michael recognized him. "You're Robert Todd Lincoln."

"Have we met before?"

"No! No, I'm just ... I admire your father." She cursed herself for stuttering; she really wasn't good with people.

Robert Lincoln extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss ..."

Michael's eyes darted through the room as her mind blanked on any fake name she could give herself. Finally she saw a poster of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. "Juliet Shakes...man." She took Robert's hand and he kissed the back of her hand. It felt like a dream.

"Are you an actress?", Robert asked as he let go of her hand.

"No. Yes. Not a very good one. I'm hoping to get started now that the Civil War's over."

"Something rarer than an actress. A modest one", Robert joked.

Michael felt her cheeks burning and laughed to escape the awkward moment. Luckily Robert changed the subject: "General Grant was supposed to attend tonight's play, but he can't make it and I have to return his tickets."

"I can take the tickets to the box office for you", Michael offered.

"Thanks. I'd like to leave a note too with the general's apologies."

Michael gestured towards a desk. "Of course. Take your time."

Robert sat down at the desk and started to write. Michael heard the clock ticking. Soon it would be 10 AM. What would she do if Robert hadn't left until then?

"You know, my father's coming to the play tonight", Robert told her, "Have you seen it?"

That was her chance. Maybe she could convince Robert not to go. "It's ... not very good."

"No?" Robert looked up from the desk. "Should I tell him not to come?"

Michael just laughed at that. It just felt wrong to change this. She had just lost her sister because of a change in history, she couldn't do something like this again. Even if that meant loosing President Lincoln.

Paul had said that they wanted to use the time machine to study history. Maybe she could do just that, now that Robert Lincoln was sitting in front of her. "Having President Lincoln as a father, what is that like for you?"

Robert stopped again to think for a moment. "He casts a long shadow, but it's ... not one I mind living in." He smiled at Michael. "I'm proud of him, he's done some great things."

"I agree", she blinked some tears out of her eyes.

Suddenly he wasn't the son of President Lincoln anymore. He was just a son who loved his father. Who would loose his father very soon.

Robert's smile grew. "And he's just getting started."

It tore Michael apart, the emotional side of her wanting to save Lincoln, the rational side of her wanting to save history. She didn't know which side would end up winning.

A glance at the clock told Michael that it was 9:59.

Robert had just finished his apology and stood up. "Miss Shakesman? It has been a pleasure." He handed Michael the tickets and the apology.

"I'll see they get it right away", she promised.

"Please do, yes."

In that moment another man entered the room. Michael and Robert turned to see who it was, even though she knew that exactly.

John Wilkes Booth stood in front of her.

Chapter Text

Michael couldn't help but stare as Booth took the last few stairs into the room. She quickly caught herself, however, just as Robert greeted him: "John Wilkes Booth, Robert Lincoln. I saw you on stage here last month."

Booth seemed to be surprised to see him, but he managed a smile as Robert shook his hand. "Of course. Why are you here?"

"My father invited General Grant to see tonight's play and I'm helping him escape it." He turned towards Michael. "I'm assuming you have met Miss Shakesman before?"

Now her cover would blow. Booth would tell Robert that she didn't actually work in the Ford's Theatre. But to Michael's surprise, that didn't happen. Booth just nodded politely, muttering "John Booth." Michael suspected he was just as uncomfortable in this situation as she was. Maybe he wasn't very happy about her skin color.

"She's an actress", Robert explained. Michael's smile became a bit forced. Couldn't they stop discussing her? She needed to go back to Ash and Paul.

"Really?", now Booth sounded interested, "what do you perform?"

"I'm new to the profession", she gestured towards her face, "as you can probably see."

"And very humble", Robert added. The constant compliments made her cheeks burn.

But just as the times before, Robert immediately changed tye subject: "Mr Shakesman, did you know that Mr Booth's brother saved my life on a train platform just last year?"

Of course Michael knew that, but she faked surprise. "Oh?"

Robert nodded. "He pulled me out of the path of an oncoming train, true story."

Michael turned to Booth, who didn't seem happy with the praise his brother got. "That's amazing."

"That's Edwin", Booth replied, now again with a smile on his face, "always the hero."

"Yes sir", Robert agreed, "the Lincolns owe the Booths a great debt."

Michael felt her smile falter a little bit. Not for long. Of course, she didn't say that out loud.

Booth seemed to grow tired of the situation as well, probably because he planned to meet his co-conspirator very soon. He took a step forwards. "I'm only here to collect my mail. Could you give them to me, Miss Shakesman?"

"Of course."

Michael quickly took his mail out of the box and gave it to him. After that he left with a last nod to Robert.

"I should go too", Michael held up the note Robert had written, "I need to make sure they get this."

Robert nodded. "Of course. It has been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Shakesman."

For the second time this hour - has it really been only an hour? - Michael fled from a situation.

----------

Paul watched as Booth left the Ford's Theatre again. He debated whether he should follow him or look for Ash and Michael, when they came out of a back door.

They followed Booth and Paul quickly caught up to them. "So, we're a thousand percent sure we can't just shoot this asshead and save Lincoln?"

Michael shook her head. "Believe me, I want to, but it might change things too much."

"Yeah, maybe it will save a lot of people of color. How horrible."

Michael raised her eyebrows, but Paul shook his head. "I'm serious! I talked to some black soldiers while you were in there and they deserve better. Lincoln's death is going to be a disaster for them."

Michael turned to Ash for support, but he raised his hands defensively. "Don't look at me, I'm with him."

Michael sighed heavily. "Look, I understand. But we don't know the consequences. It's just too dangerous. It's our job to protect history from Georgiou, not to destroy it ourselves."

"Yeah, rich white cis straight guy's history. A lot of my history sucks and I'm sure your great-great-grandparents would benefit from Lincoln's survival as well."

Ash set a stop to their discussion. "Quiet. Booth's over there."

They glanced around a corner and saw Booth entering a dilapidated building. Paul was sure that this wasn't Booth's house.

"This is the Herndon House", Michael whispered, "where Booth meets with his co-conspirators."

Ash turned to look at her. "What co-conspirators?"

The next moment three things happened at once. Georgiou walked past a window in the house, Michael called: "Ash!" and bullets cut through the air.

Michael and Paul pressed against the wall while Ash drew his gun. "When I shoot, you run. Stay low, don't stop for anything."

"But what about you?", Michael asked.

"I'll be right behind you."

With that he ducked behind a keg and shot back. "Go!"

Michael and Paul scrambled to their feet and ran as fast as they could. Paul wasn't sure if what he was hearing was the gunshots or his own heartbeat. He only vaguely registered Michael stopping. When he came to a halt, she was already running again. "What happened?", he gasped.

"Ash was shot", she responded, just as out of breath.

"I'm fine", Ash called. "Keep going."

Luckily Georgiou's men didn't follow them onto the main street. Ash was the first one to stop, he leaned against a building while he holstered his gun.

Paul fell down onto his knees, desperately gasping for air. Doing sports was apparently another thing he should've done more often. Even Ash was in a better state than him and he had a bleeding wound in his side.

"I know a hotel where we can stay", Michael suggested. "You can stay there."

Ash groaned as he came back onto his feet. Michael steadied him. "That's a good idea. Paul and I will go there, you go and buy something to fix this up, okay?"

Michael didn't protest. After she showed them the hotel she left.

Paul hesitated before entering. "Are you sure? Maybe you should go to a doctor."

Ash scoffed. "It's 1865. I don't think the doctors here are more qualified than we are. Come on." He opened the door and stept inside.

Reluctantly Paul followed him. "Hi. Um, I'd like to book a room for myself and my ... cousin."

The man behind the reception smiled at him. "Sure. How long would you like to stay?"

"Just for the night."

"Okay. If you'd follow me."

As the man led them to their room, Paul noticed the looks he was giving Ash. He didn't know if it was because of his injury or because of his ethnicity and honestly, he couldn't tell which one was worse.

He was very glad when they were alone in their room.

Ash fell down onto the bed and slowly took off his shirt. A badly bleeding wound came to light. Paul looked away as Ash started to inspect the wound. He hated this so much.

"Where's Michael with the supplies?"

Paul still didn't look back to him. "I really think you should go to a doctor."

"They wouldn't be able to do anything." He hissed in pain and Paul closed his eyes, even though he was already staring in the opposite direction. "In our time I'd only need a few stitches", Ash complained, "but here I'll die of sepsis."

Paul didn't know how to respond to that. He was already feeling nauseous just imagining it.

Justin had always joked about how sensitive Paul was when it came to other's injuries, but how reckless he was with himself.

But when someone else had the injury Paul's mind was really good at making it worse than it really was. And in this case there wasn't much to make worse.

He only opened his eyes again when Michael came in. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah."

"Great", Ash groaned, "Paul, my knife is in my pocket, you have to sterilize it over the lamp."

Paul stopped dead in his tracks. "What. Why?"

"The bullet's still in the wound. You have to take it out."

Paul blinked a few times trying to process what Ash wanted him to do. "Why me?"

"Because you're good with your hands."

"Yeah, on circuit boards."

"Well then think of me as a circuit board that will die if you don't help."

Paul's mouth had gone dry and he already felt a little lightheaded. "I ... I can't do that. Last time I was in a hospital I fainted. Can't Michael do it?"

"Sorry, but look at my hands." Michael held her hands out in front of her and the shivering became very obvious.

Paul closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten. He had to do this. If he wouldn't, then Ash would die.

You can do it, honey, Hugh's voice sounded in Paul's head, I'll stay with you the entire time okay? Just close your eyes and listen to my voice. Breath in ... and out. In ... and out.

Paul still vividly remembered his panic about getting his blood tested. Hugh's soothing words had helped a lot back then and they did it again this time.

He slowly opened his eyes again. "Okay, I'll do it."

Chapter Text

Ash watched as Paul sterilized the knife. He looked even paler than before and Ash felt a little bad about having him do this. But then, when his only alternative was dying, Paul would have to deal with this.

Ash tried to distract himself from the throbbing wound in his side. Considering they had a mission to do, that was really easy. "Why does Georgiou need this many men? Lincoln gets killed anyway."

"I don't think it's just about Lincoln", Michael replied. "His death was part of a much larger conspiracy to kill the four most powerful men in government in one night. Lincoln, vice president Johnson, secretary of state Seward, and General Grant. It would've been devastating, but the other attacks didn't work out."

"But that was before they had semiautomatic weapons", Ash concluded.

Michael nodded. "Exactly. If Georgiou helps Booth succeed, they would cripple the union, maybe revive the confederacy. America would become unrecognizable."

Paul looked up from Ash's knife. "And how do we stop all that?"

"One problem at a time. Grant takes a train out of town at six. I'll go and make sure he's actually on it. You take care of Ash. Then we'll talk again, okay?"

Paul sighed. "Okay. But I can't promise that I'll do it good."

"Doesn't matter. As long as I don't die", Ash only half joked, "you have a doctor in Pike Industries who can take care of me, right?"

"Of course."

Michael sat down on the other side of the bed. "It's 11:30 now. I think I'll go at 4 PM."

Paul looked down at the knife in his hands and sighed. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with."

----------

After a little over an hour Paul still wasn't finished with Ash. He had to take a break every couple of minutes in order not to faint or throw up and he didn't really know what to do.

Ash was very patient but Paul could imagine that the situation wasn't much better for him.

Michael had left a while ago to get something to eat.

Paul took another shaky breath before continuing with the surgery. He tried his best to ignore the fact that he was working on a human, rather than a machine. But Ash's blood stained the bed and Paul's hands and made that rather difficult.

"Hey, Ash?" Ash opened his eyes to look at him. "If you had the opportunity to go back to a time you already exist in, what would you change?"

"What makes you think I would change something?" Ash's voice was strained from pain, but he didn't complain. Paul wondered if he was helping or making it worse.

"Because I would do it too and I saw you both times we discussed traveling back."

"Really? What would you change?"

Paul paused to rub the blood off his knife. "I asked first."

"I would try to save my ex-wife", Ash responded. The pain was less obvious in his voice now. Maybe this conversation didn't only benefit Paul.

"What happened to her?"

"She suffered from a drug addiction. One day she had a bad LSD trip and got a psychosis from it. After that she was a completely new person and our relationship became ... abusive. I tried to get her back, but nothing we tried worked out. So I divorced her and she was sent to a rehab center. I would do everything to prevent her from taking that one trip," Ash narrated the situation as if it was a fairy tale, rather than his own life.

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Now, what about you? It has something to do with the other guy who tried it, doesn't ist?"

"Yeah, it does. I told you about him killing a doctor, right? That doctor was my partner."

"I'm sorry."

Paul got up to get a bandage to avoid having to answer. "I only need to bandage the wound and you'll be good to go until we get back."

"Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. I probably only made it worse."

"Yes I do. You saved my life, despite never having done it and being afraid of it. That's very impressive. A lot of my fellow soldiers wouldn't have done it."

Suddenly the conversation felt too personal. That's stupid, Paul reminded himself, we just told each other about our lost partners. More personal than that is hardly possible.

But Paul had always had problems accepting compliments, especially from people that weren't Hugh.

"I didn't really have a choice, did I?", he retorted.

"Okay, you're right. But I can still thank you for saving my life. I'd like to live for a few more years," he paused shortly, "just like Lincoln, probably."

----------

When Michael arrived at the train station, multiple engineers were working on the train. This didn't look good. The train was supposed to leave in ten minutes, with General Grant savely on board. Instead, all passengers were leaving the train and station.

"Miss Shakesman?"

Michael spun around. For the second time today she stood in front of Robert Lincoln. "Mister Lincoln", she greeted him.

"What are you doing here?"

Michael shook her head, searching for an excuse. When she didn't find one and the silence threatened to become awkward, she went with a joke. "Following you, apparently." It made him laugh, so Michael counted it as a win.

"I'm a lucky man, then."

A man carrying a case passed by them, reminding Michael of the problem on hand. "What happened to the train?"

"Technically speaking, it broke. Much to General Grant's dismay, he and I will be seeing the play tonight."

"No!", Michael burst out, before her brain caught up. "I ... I mean ... like I said, it's a terrible play. The General will hate it."

To Michael's surprise Robert laughed out loud. "Maybe. But the General and I are already committed."

What could she do now? If there was no way to stop Grant from going, how could she possibly save his life? She couldn't just walk in, could she?

"But is there any chance you'd like to see a terrible play?"

Michael stared at him. Surely she had misheard him. This was just wishful thinking. "What?"

"Excuse me if I'm being too forward, but would you come as my guest? You'd improve the evening a great deal."

Now this couldn't be more clear. Robert Todd Lincoln had invited Michael to a date.

"We've met twice in one day, that can't just be a coincidence", he continued, "do you believe in faith?"

She didn't know what to say. Her first instinct was to decline, because she really wasn't interested in something like this. But then she had to remind herself that this wasn't just a guy asking her out. This was Robert Lincoln providing her with a chance to save Grant. ... and maybe President Lincoln?

"I'm at the National", she told him.

"The National", he confirmed, "great, I'll come by at 7." He seemed excited that Michael had agreed to come with him. She could almost forget that he was the son of Abraham Lincoln and not just some guy in the year 2015. It felt wrong to use him to save Grant and not his father, but she couldn't do it. She just couldn't. Who knew what terrible consequences it might have.

She started to walk towards the exit, when she heard a new voice behind her. "We really have to stop meeting like this, Michael."

Michael froze. Why was Georgiou always trying to talk to her? The other woman scared her and she couldn't really tell why. The rage about her current familial situation only added onto that. Michael slowly turned around.

"You really have the audacity to just show up here? My family is gone because of what you did to the Hindenburg!"

"I lost my whole family too!", Georgiou protested.

"Because you murdered them!"

"No, because Rittenhouse murdered them", Georgiou corrected. Michael saw actual hurt in her eyes.

"I asked about Rittenhouse, nobody knows about him."

"Rittenhouse isn't a he, it's a they. And that's why I'm here, to right some wrongs."

Michael couldn't care less about the gender of this Rittenhouse and she didn't know how it could possibly be relevant to Georgiou. "By shooting a path through Washington? By trying to destroy America outright?"

"I'm not trying to destroy America, I'm trying to save it!"

There really was no point in trying to argue with Georgiou. She had completely lost her mind.

"Michael", Georgiou continued in a more even voice. Somehow it sounded more scary than her shouting, "one day you're going to help me."

For someone with such a threatening aura, Georgiou's threats weren't very intimidating.

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

Georgiou shook her head. "That's not a threat. That's your future. So accept it and stop trying to interfere."

"What are you trying to do? And what does this have to do with Rittenhouse? Tell me!"

Georgiou grabbed Michael's hand. She tried to yank it away, but her grip was too tight. She came close enough for Michael to feel her breath on her face. "Don't get in my way again."

Suddenly all the anger and determination drained from her face and she just looked tired. Michael opened her mouth to say something, but Georgiou just turned around and left.

Michael was left with more questions than before.

Chapter Text

Ash opened his eyes when he heard the door open. Paul shifted as well in the chair beside the bed, yawning and stretching.

Michael was carrying two large bags she certainly hadn't had when she'd left. "You ... went shopping?"

"Robert Lincoln invited me to a play", Michael explained.

"A play?", Paul echoed, "you mean the play."

"General Grant will be there tonight", Michael sounded defeated, "Georgiou sabotaged his train."

Ash slowly rose into a sitting position, despite his aching side. "You saw Georgiou?"

"I saw her leaving the train station. But the point is, Grant's going to be there tonight and I have to save him."

"How exactly?"

"I don't know yet. I'll get Grant out of the balcony before Booth shows up ... somehow?"

Ash grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head. "I'm pretty sure we can come up with a better plan than that."

"Would these help?", Michael asked and held up two guns. They weren't as good as his, but that'd be the best they could do in the 19th century. He nodded and Michael laid the guns down on the desk.

"And with all of that we're gonna save everyone except for Lincoln?", Paul spoke up. Ash wholeheartedly agreed with that. When they were already there they could easily make the future for these people a little more bright.

"Paul ..."

"All you have to do is say something to save him. You have a date with Robert Lincoln and you just want to sit there and let Booth shoot his father in the head?"

"Do you think any of this is easy for me?", Michael exclaimed, "my whole life I've idolized Lincoln. When I was little I would let my mom read his speeches to me and memorize them."

"Well, then do something."

"Then we'll come back to an entirely different world. Who knows if it would be better? Or if there would he anything left to come back to at all? The present isn't perfect, but it's our life. How awful it might sound, what happens to Lincoln is meant to be."

"I wouldn't complain about my life being different from what it is right now. And after what happened to your family, I'm sure you wouldn't either."

Ash thought about what Paul had told him about his partner. Is he thinking about him right now? Ash could absolutely understand the pain of losing your parent. If he could do anything to save Lincoln, he would do it, history be damned. But he wasn't the one to make that choice.

If Michael really thought that everything that had happened was meant to be, would she even be willing to do anything? If she would be able to save his mom, L'Rell or Paul's partner, would she also just sit there and watch? "What about our losses?", he asked out loud. "You're saying that bad things, like that are supposed to happen. So if you could use the time machine to save our loved ones, would you not do that either?"

Michael didn't respond to that, but she lowered her gaze and that was answer enough. Ash shook his head. "Wow. You wouldn't do it." He got up and took a step towards her.

"But your family, that's a mistake, because Georgiou caused it. You want us to accept our losses, but can't even accept your own."

"That's not fair", Michael protested.

"You just lost your family. And now you're gonna sit next to Robert Lincoln and watch him loose his father?"

Michael's gaze darted between Ash and Paul, but she didn't say anything. "In the end it's your choice. But we all have to live with it." With that Ash went back to getting dressed. They couldn't do more than trying to convince her.

----------

At exactly 7 PM someone knocked on the door. "Mister Robert Todd Lincoln is downstairs for Miss Shakesman."

Michael left the changing room in the dress she'd bought for tonight. "I'll be there in a minute."

She turned around to Ash and Paul, who were watching her from the other side of the room. They hadn't talked since their argument and she really hoped they wouldn't stay upset about it. She really needed their help.

Ash smiled at her, but Paul wouldn't meet her gaze.

Sighing internally she went over to Ash and held out her hand. He gave her the gun. It felt heavier than it had earlier, but that was due to her nerves. Ash gently pushed against the gun and Michael pocketed it. "Now please save secretary of state Seward?"

She turned to Paul. "And you save Vice president Johnson?"

He still didn't look at her but nodded.

"We got 'em", Ash promised, "you go and save General Grant."

Michael picked up her jacket and opened the door when Paul finally spoke: "Michael, just ... think about who you save."

Michael just closed the door behind her. She could understand Paul and if this was happening in the present she wouldn't hesitate saving Lincoln. But her mind only jumped to all the worst case scenarios that could result in.

She had to force a smile on her face when she saw Robert. He on the other hand was visibly excited. It only made her feelings of guilt and regret worse.

"Miss Shakesman, you look incredible tonight", he greeted her.

"Thank you."

"If you may follow me." He helped Michael into a wagon before sitting down himself.

General Grant and his wife were already there when Michael and Robert arrived at the Ford's Theatre. Robert introduced them to Michael, but she couldn't pay any attention to it. Her heart and mind were racing.

Would she be ready to use the gun to save Grant if she needed to? Would she even have a choice? Could she really save Grant and let Lincoln die?

At the moment she didn't have answers for these questions, but it was really difficult not to worry about them.

They sat down and the play began shortly after. Despite what she'd told Robert, Michael was actually interested in it, but she couldn't concentrate on it.

Instead she watched Grant, who seemed to enjoy the show. After about ten minutes Lincoln still hadn't arrived. That meant she had some time left to think about a plan. She needed to get Grant out of here or she would have to shoot Booth. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest, loudly enough to block out the voices of the actor.

Michael had once had a panic attack and she felt that she would get another one, if she'd have to wait much longer.

Robert seemed to notice her anxiety, but luckily he misinterpreted it. He leaned over to her and whispered: "He is always late."

Michael met his warm gaze to smile at him. She could tell that he really liked her and she felt sad about just using him for her mission. And about letting his father die.

Michael was pulled from her thoughts when the orchestra started to play "Hail to the Chief" and everyone around her stood up.

This was it. The start of the end. Of Lincoln's end.

Chapter Text

"Miss Shakesman. May I introduce my mother, Mary, and my father, the president. Father, please meet Juliet Shakesman."

Michael couldn't move, all her strength went into the struggle not to stare. President Lincoln stood in front of her. Until now he had always been a historical figure. Someone she'd looked up to, but someone historical none the less. History tended to dehumanize its heroes. But now he was standing right in front of her and Paul's voice sounded in her head. Think about who you save.

"Miss Shakesman, how do you do? It's a great pleasure to meet you", Lincoln greeted her. Michael took his offered hand and bowed slightly. She could feel a wide smile spreading on her face. In this short moment she could almost forget what was about to happen.

Everyone sat down again and the play continued. And with it the countdown of Lincoln's life.

----------

After Michael had left, Ash started to put on his uniform. "You know, you'll have to forgive her for what she does now. We have to work together as a team."

"I know. And I know that I'll forgive her ... eventually."

They fell back into silence. Paul picks up the gun Ash had given him. He never before even touched a gun, let alone used one. He didn't know how he was supposed to save Johnson with it. But he needed to succeed or it would have devastating consequences.

He had suffered from thoughts like this through all his childhood but right now it was actually true. And he felt like the least competent person to do it. Tilly would probably be better suited for the job than he was.

Ash seemed to notice his discomfort. "Everything okay?"

Paul sighed. "Yeah sure. I mean, all I have to do is save the vice president of the United States. What could go wrong there?" He tried to aim the gun at Ash, who smiled at him.

"Relax. When Georgiou's guy shows up, all you gotta do is point him out to the vice president's bodyguards. They'll take care of it. The gun's just in case."

The reassuring words eased some of Paul's worrying but not nearly all of it. Talking to the vice president's bodyguards seemed like a just as hard task as shooting the assassin on his own. "What if I freeze?"

"You won't, trust me."

Paul sat back down and fiddled with the gun in his hands. He had the urge to tell Ash about what's bothering him, but he also didn't want to traumadump on someone he just met. "I ...", he stopped and started the sentence over, "growing up, my dad always expected me to be perfect at everything I do. He didn't hit me or anything, but he would make his disappointment known when I failed. So I developed these obsessive thoughts, where something bad happens if I don't perform perfectly. And I can't think properly under stress. It was this circle, where I'd be anxious about being perfect and then I'd fail because I was too anxious to do anything. I hadn't had that in a long time, but now it's actually the case. If I fail here, we don't know what happens when we get back. If we even can get back."

Ash slowly sat down next to him. "Paul ... I don't know you that well. But in the last two days you helped us break out of jail, you threatened a Nazi with a knife and you pulled a bullet out of my side without fainting. You can do it."

"I'm scared."

"I wouldn't want to go to battle with you if you weren't."

----------

"A woman of my age ..."

"Be you a woman of your age?"

Michael actually laughed at that, but her laugh quickly turned into a cough. She had difficulty breathing, was extremely nauseous and overall felt very miserable.

Robert leaned over, a concerned expression on his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm just a little nervous." That had to be the understatement of the century.

"Would you like some water?", Robert pointed at a jug of water, on a table not far away from General Grant. An idea formed in her head.

If she could pour the water over the General, he'd have to leave and wouldn't be in danger anymore.

Robert started to get up. "Let me ..."

"No, no. I'll get it."

Michael actually took a few sips from her glass and the water really did feel good. On her way back to her seat, she bumped against Grant's chair and the water spilled over his clothes. He jumped up in surprise.

"General Grant, please forgive me. Are you alright?"

"I'm alright", he nodded, before leaving the balcony. Perfect. Now Booth only needed to come before Grant had dried himself off again.

When she returned to her seat, Robert gave her a sympathetic smile. She smiled back.

----------

When Ash arrived at Seward's house, he could see a shadowy figure sneaking onto the balcony. This had to be his assassin.

Ash slowly crept closer and jumped at him before the other man could open the door. In one quick motion he disarmed the man and held a knife to his throat. "The man who gave you the gun, where is he?"

The man got away from Ash's grip and he realized only know that the man was a head taller than him.

Great. Why do I always get the big ones?

The man shoved Ash backwards and the door broke open under the impact. Before Ash could react, the man kicked him in the side and stepped over him.

But he quickly came to his feet again and punched the man in the head.

Despite the big height difference the two of them were equal opponents. If neither of them could grab their gun, there wouldn't be a winner any time soon.

Ash was distracted when a woman on the staircase above them called out to someone. This was a mistake. The man shoved him onto a chair and Ash's gun fell to the ground. Immediately the guy was over him and his hands closed around Ash's throat.

The woman's calls became louder and more panicked and Ash's punches became more weak as he struggled to breath.

His right hand searched the ground for his gun, but he couldn't feel it.

He had been too busy encouraging Paul to think about the possibility that he'd fail. But now, as black dots danced around his vision, he couldn't help but to wonder what they'll do. Will the woman and Seward be able to fight the man off alone? Will Michael and Paul be able to end their mission alone?"

He could feel himself drifting into unconsciousness when his fingers finally collided with cold metal. He grabbed his gun and shot. The man fell to the ground and Ash took some deep breaths to get the much needed air into his lungs.

When he didn't feel like fainting anymore, he looked up to the woman, who was still watching from the staircase. A man had appeared next to her. "What's going on?", he demanded.

"Mister Secretary", Ash greeted him, before leaving the house as fast as he could.

His lungs hurt from both the choking and running, but he'd been successful. Now he could only hope that Michael and Paul would succeed as well.

----------

Michael felt a little more relaxed, now that Grant was gone. It led to her quite enjoying the play, but also to notice the signs of affection between Robert and his father.

"Robert ...", she started.

"Yes?"

The warning didn't pass her lips, however. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't get the words out. Her logical side was still too much against it.

They were interrupted by the door opening. Michael expected to see Booth, but it was General Grant. Of course. It would have been way too easy this way.

Michael forced her way through another apology, even though she felt like crying.

Robert chose this moment to lean over to her again to whisper: "That's not such a bad play." Maybe he had noticed her mood change.

"They must have revised it."

----------

Paul hesitantly opened the door to the hotel Johnson was staying in.

He chose a corner near the door to wait for either the vice president or the assassin to arrive.

While he waited, Paul watched the people. It was what he always did when he had been forced to attend a social gathering.

This didn't feel that much different. Of course with the exception that the future of the entire country depended on him.

But it was better not to think of it. Ash was right, he had done some things in the past days that he hadn't imagined ever doing. He could do this too.

Then he saw the man Michael had described passing him. Paul watched as the man sat down in one of the chairs and took out a gun.

No doubts, this was the assassin. But what should he do now? Could he get to Johnson's bodyguards before the man could kill him? Would it be enought to simply call out to them? Or should he use the gun that laid heavily in his pocket?

His mind told him that that was the most logical choice, but his anxiety disagreed with that assessment.

Paul closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He'd wasted enough time listening to his anxiety. He'd do it. For Johnson, for America, for Michael, for Ash, for ... himself.

Determined he made his way over to the man, but he was stopped after four steps. "Well, if that isn't our Seargent", a familiar voice called.

Behind him stood the black soldiers he'd met while waiting for Michael and Ash. They hadn't been pleased to notice that he wasn't a real soldier. Paul needed to get rid of them as soon as possible if he wanted to have any chance at saving Johnson.

"Excuse me, but I have something to do."

One of the soldiers - Nicholas - shoved him against the wall and pulled the gun out of his pocket. "What do you want in the vice president's hotel with this?"

"Listen to me, Nicholas. I just need to speak to his bodyguards. I'm not trying to hurt the vice president, I'm trying to save him."

"Oh yeah, and from what?"

"There is a man in here who is going to kill him."

Nicholas turned to his fellow soldiers. "Did you here that, guys? The fake Seargent is trying to stop a man from killing the vice president."

Paul tried to move past them, but Nicholas pinned him back against the wall again.

Paul could only watch as Johnson and his bodyguard came down the stairs and the assassin walked towards him.

In a last desperate attempt, Paul threw himself forward and managed to escape the soldiers' grip.

He grabbed the assassin's arm at the same moment he fired his gun. The bullet didn't hit the vice president but one of his bodyguards.

Paul and the man fell to the ground, but the assassin recovered more quickly. He aimed his gun at Paul.

Before he could shoot, three other guns were pointed at his head. "I wouldn't do that", Nicholas warned.

Paul used the distraction to take the assassin's gun from him. He couldn't quite believe what had just happened. I did it. I saved the vice president.

----------

The moment when Booth was supposed to come in came and went.

With each passing second Michael became more and more anxious. Something wasn't right. Georgiou must have done something to cause this delay. It sure as hell wasn't something positive.

Michael didn't even try to act like everything was fine. Every ten second she turned around to glance at the door, which remained closed.

When she'd finally managed to convince herself that maybe Booth wouldn't come anymore, that Georgiou had prevented him from killing Lincoln and Grant, the door opened.

Michael turned around and met Georgiou's gaze.

The other woman stopped dead in her tracks, apparently just as surprised as Michael. For a moment they just stared at each other and time seemed to freeze.

Then Georgiou raised her gun.

"No! Mister President!"

Chapter Text

But her warning came too late.

The bullet hit Lincoln in the head and blood splattered everywhere.

Michael could only stare at her blood stained dress, while Robert rushed to his father's side. He was dying because of her. Robert was hurting because of her. Because she had been too afraid to save this man. Because she had made up her mind a little too late.

Michael had failed. She hadn't been able to stand up to her believes in preserving history and she also hadn't been able to save Lincoln. She was just standing in some sort of middle ground, watching the broken pieces.

Then Georgiou stepped in front of Michael, raising her gun a second time. Michael didn't know what to do, only that she had to do something.

Her body moved almost like on autopilot as she grabbed Georgiou's arm before she could shoot.

The next thing Michael knew she was on the ground and Robert and Grant were wrestling with Georgiou, both unharmed.

Somehow Georgiou managed to get free from both of them. She jumped onto the stage and disappeared.

Michael got up and moved out of the way of the people gathering around Lincoln. A doctor was called, but Michael didn't pay attention to it.

Her senses were overwhelming her. She heard the frantic voices of Grant, Robert and the doctor and the crying of Lincoln's wife. The scent of blood stung in her nose and she could taste bile. Her gaze could only focus on Lincoln's lifeless body.

----------

When Paul and Ash arrived at the Ford's Theatre a huge crowd had gathered in front of the building.

Michael was talking to a police officer, but she quickly excused herself when she spotted them.

"How are Johnson and Seward?"

"Both okay", Paul informed her. "What about ..."

"Grant's safe", Michael interrupted him, "but Lincoln ..." She blinked tears out of her eyes. Paul couldn't help but feel angry at her. She shouldn't be standing here grieving, when she could have prevented all of this. You're being irrational, a voice that sounded way to similar to Hugh's told him.

I know that, he shot back. I don't need you policing my feelings.

Just as Michael doesn't need you policing hers.

Everyone fell silent as Robert Lincoln exited the Ford's Theatre. Then he was bombarded with questions from the waiting people. He didn't respond though, but made his way toward Michael.

Paul could see the love Robert had for Michael and it broke his heart a little bit more for this man. He didn't know anything about Robert, but he deserved better than to lose his father and the woman he fell in love with.

"He's gone", Robert told Michael when he reached her.

"I'm so sorry."

"Thank you for ... for saving General Grant. The whole country thanks you."

"I wish I could have saved your father."

Paul scoffed at that and Ash shot him a warning glance. "What?", Paul whispered back. Ash only rolled his eyes and turned around again.

"There was nothing you could have done."

Paul had to admit that it was satisfying to see the guilt in Michael's face, even though he felt guilty for that.

Paul was distracted from their conversation when he saw Nicholas. The soldier stood alone away from the crowd and Paul could imagine what he was feeling right now.

It wasn't fair that these people had to suffer now that Lincoln was dead.

"Listen, Nicholas." He looked up and his gaze was empty and hopeless. "Don't go south. Find your family and go up north. It's gonna be alright."

"Alright? That man fought for us, freed us, and that cost him his life. It'll never get better."

"It does, I promise you. It might not seem like it but there are still people out there who are willing to fight for you. It won't be easy, but it does get better."

"How can you be so sure about that?"

"I just know it."

For a long moment Nicholas stared into Paul's eyes. Then he nodded. "I believe you, Seargent. Good luck."

"Good luck to you too."

----------

They didn't talk during their walk back to the Lifeboat. On Ash's part because his wound had started to hurt badly again and all his strength went into keeping going.

Michael, however, was worrying him a little. She just stared at nothing while Ash helped her with her seat belt. She had witnessed Lincoln's assassination, something that could undoubtedly traumatize someone.

"I decided I was gonna let it happen", Michael finally spoke, "but then I tried to warn him. It was too late. It's one thing to talk about history like it's this abstract thing. But when a man gets shot right in front of you ..." She trailed off, but then she spoke up again. "Paul, I tried. I really did."

"I believe you. I'm sorry for being angry at you. It couldn't have been easy to be there." They smiled at each other, before Paul turned around again. "Let's go home."

This time Ash didn't feel nauseous anymore. Maybe he was actually getting used to this, or maybe he was already feeling so bad it couldn't get any worse.

When he tried to climb down the Lifeboat, he slipped and fell to the ground. He didn't even try to push himself up again. Paul knelt down beside him. "Ash needs medical attention."

Paul tried to help Ash up again and Ash struggled to remain standing, even if he was mostly leaning on Paul's side.

After what felt like an eternity, a doctor arrived. She grabbed Ash's other arm and Paul reluctantly let go. "I'll take him", the doctor promised, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Me too", Michael ran her hands down her bloody dress, "this isn't my blood."

Ash didn't know how but he managed to reach the sickbay without fainting. He gladly sat down on the examination table and took off his shirt.

He almost missed the outstretched hand the doctor was offering. "I'm Doctor Pollard, by the way."

"Ash Tyler."

"Can you tell me what happened to you, Ash?", she asked while she started to examine the wound.

Ash hissed at her touch. "I was shot by one of Georgiou's men."

"And what kind of doctor treated you afterwards?"

"It ... wasn't a doctor", Ash admitted, "I didn't want to go to a hospital, so Paul took care of it."

He decided to ignore the disbelief in her face. "Can you please just patch me up?"

----------

After the doctor and Ash had left, Cornwell and Pike rushed to Michael and Paul. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Who shot Lincoln?"

Pike raised an eyebrow. "Lincoln was assassinated by an unknown woman using an unknown gun."

Paul shook his head. "It's all changed."

"The gunner used to be John Wilkes Booth", Michael explained, "now it's Philippa Georgiou."

"Well, the assassination was planned by John Wilkes Booth", Cornwell chimed in, "he was hunted down and killed."

"The gunner also attempted to kill General Grant, but he was saved by an obscure actress named Juliet Shakesman", Tilly called over from her computer. Michael didn't miss the pointed look she was giving her. "Never seen again after that."

"Besides the fact that Georgiou managed to escape, it's good work", Cornwell told them.

"But history changed", Michael protested, "that's not how it's supposed to be!"

"It's close enough."

"But is it really? What if something changed because of what we did? And if it's only another changed family."

Cornwell shot her a warning look. "Georgiou didn't destroy America or the world. Count that as a win."

Michael watched as Cornwell and Pike left. They really shouldn't be taking this as lightly as they did.

Paul placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, at least if something else changed, the people involved won't know it, right?"

Michael wasn't so sure if that was a good thing.

"Hey!", Tilly called over to her, "we need to talk."

Michael said goodbye to Paul and followed Tilly to one of the offices. She was nervous. What had Tilly found out? Could she try to get her family back when they traveled back in time again? Would she be willing to sacrifice her mother for that?

Tilly sat down in front of a computer, Michael moved to stand behind her. "You told me that your parents died in a car crash in 1996. I looked for that, but couldn't find it. Because your parents weren't together anymore at that point. Your dad divorced your mom in 1994, because he met the granddaughter of Irene Doehner, a child who should've died in the Hindenburg."

"So we weren't involved in that car crash, because my dad wasn't there." That actually made sense. They had been on the way to the cinema to watch a movie Michael wanted to see. Her mom had said no, but her dad had convinced her to go. If he hadn't done that, they would've stayed at home.

"I also looked into your adoptive family", Tilly continued, "Your parents still live here in San Francisco, but they don't have any children."

Michael stared at the pictures of her parents on Tilly's screen. Spock was gone. He didn't exist anymore. The fact that she hadn't been adopted cost Spock his life. And she was the only one who remembered him.

"You ... you don't know why my brother doesn't exist, do you?"

Tilly shook her head. "I'm sorry, that's all I could find out. I could find out the adress of your dad and your adoptive parents though?"

"No thanks. You already did enough for me. Thank you."

"I'm sorry you lost so much, Michael. Tell me if you need anything, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you again."

----------

Paul laid the recorder down hard on Chris's desk. The loud sound startled the other man.

"I'm not recording them anymore", he announced. Chris raised an eyebrow, but Paul didn't give him the chance to answer. "I don't care who Rittenhouse is. Michael and Ash trust me, and I'm not spying on them."

Chris remained calm and this behavior scared Paul. It was getting more and more apparent that this man wasn't his friend anymore. Something had changed him into a threatening authoritarian figure.

"Paul. Who took you in after you lost your apartment and helped you go to MIT? Who paid, so that your sister could go to school? Who hired Hugh after he'd been fired, so that he didn't have to move. Oh, and who brought you into one of the most important scientific projects of all time?"

Paul took a step back as if Chris had physically punched him. He knew that Chris had helped him and his family a lot, but Chris had always said that he didn't expect them to pay him back in any way. And now he was using those things to blackmail Paul.

"And I'm grateful for all of that. I really am. But ..."

"But nothing, Paul. Gratitude doesn't repay your debt. Those recordings do."

Paul stared at the man who used to be his best friend and felt tears burn in his eyes. He hadn't only lost Justin on the day Georgiou stole the Mothership. He'd lost Chris as well.

Chris held the recorder out in front of him. "You're dismissed."

Paul silently grabbed the recorder and left. On his way out he almost crashed into Tracy. "Oh, sorry!"

"Do you come from Chris?"

Paul nodded. "I don't think you want to talk to him right now. He's in a bad mood."

"Oh, okay then, I'll come back later. I wanted to talk to you anyway."

Paul could imagine a few topics Tracy could want to talk to him about. Most of them involved his well-being and one of them being Ash. He chose this one. "Is it about Ash?"

"It's one of the things. What you did was really impressive."

"Thanks. But I don't plan on doing it a second time."

"I can imagine." Tracy turned in the corridor leading toward sickbay. Paul stopped. He hadn't stepped into that room since Hugh had died there. The image of Hugh's dead body lying on the floor was still too present in his mind.

Tracy gently placed a hand on his arm. "I know it's hard. But you can't hide from it forever, Paul. I'd like to do a check-up after your experiences during the last two days."

"I can't go in there, Tracy. He ..."

"I know, believe me. I miss him too. But your health is important. It's been two years, don't you think we could do this together?"

Paul shook his head. "I think it's getting better", he admitted, "today, I heard him in my head and I didn't feel like crying anymore. But to go in there ... I can't do that."

Tracy exhaled loudly. "Okay. Then wait here. I need to do the check-up regardless. Because if your body fails, we won't have anyone left to stop Georgiou. Than Justin will be lost too."

"Okay. I'll wait."

Paul slowly sat down on the ground and leaned his head back against the wall. He was so pathetic. Tracy had started working in sickbay again a few hours after Hugh's death, even working with the man who killed him. And Paul couldn't even enter sickbay two whole years after Hugh's death. It was stupid. Yet he felt an invisible wall in his chest, stopping him from going one step further.

Maybe Tracy had been right. Maybe he should start seeing a therapist. When this whole mess was sorted out he'd try to work past his grief. But for now he had more important things to do.

----------

Michael heard the sounds of the party, even before she entered the living room. But when she did she was met with deafening applause.

Suddenly she remembered her mother's words. Just ... don't forget about tomorrow night, okay?

What was the reason for this party? Apparently she was, but she couldn't imagine why. Her birthday wasn't for another four month.

Her mom put an end to her thoughts. "Hey! You're late to your own engagement party."

Michael quickly covered her surprise with a fake cough. She was sure it wasn't the tiniest bit convincing. "Yeah, right. My engagement party."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Michael, what's going on with you? First you just ran out yesterday, now this. And I'm not supposed to worry."

"I'm sorry, but I'm fine. It's just been a little ... hectic."

"I see", it didn't sound like she did, but at least she stopped asking questions. "Now go freshen up and please your engagement ring."

That was her chance. She could go to the bathroom and try to figure some things out before returning to this crowd of people she didn't recognize.

But as she turned to leave, two hands wrapped around her wrists. An unknown man stood in front of her. "Hello, beautiful. I missed you."

He leaned for a kiss, but Michael quickly took a step back. She smiled up at him awkwardly. "Hello."

Chapter Text

This night Michael didn't go to bed. She couldn't bring herself to sleep next to a man she didn't know.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew some things about her fiancé. His name was Book, he worked as a vet, had a cat named Grudge, and their wedding was supposed to be in three months.

All of that didn't make her love him any more.

So she spent most of the night lying on the couch, trying to sleep and thinking about the life she had to call her own now.

At 7 AM she started looking through photo albums. In it she could see the proof of their love.

Apparently Book liked to travel. A lot of photos were taken in front of tourist attractions in different countries. Michael almost didn't recognize herself in the pictures. She looked so different. Carefree, happy, in love.

"Good morning."

Michael flinched at the sudden voice. She hadn't noticed Book sitting down next to her.

"You didn't come to bed last night. Are you okay?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah. I was just feeling a little ill and didn't want you to catch it."

Book seemed to believe her. Unfortunately that only made him more worried. "What is it? Do you need to see a doctor?"

Michael has to admit that it was nice how much he cared about her. "No, it's all good. I think it was just my nerves. I mean, an engagement is a big step, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you're right. I'm excited too." He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. Before Michael had to push him away, he stopped on his own.

"Oh hey! I was just looking at these pictures yesterday. What a perfect day that was."

Michael turned her gaze back toward the photo album. The picture Book was pointing to showed both of them at the beach in front of the setting sun.

Micheal never enjoyed the beach much, but maybe Book had made her appreciate it more. "Yeah. The beach was amazing."

Book turned to look at her again, a teasing smile on his lips. "And it was the day we got engaged."

"Yeah of course. That too."

"Don't tell me you forgot this little detail?"

"No, of course not. I just ..."

Her ringing phone saved her from having to think of an excuse. She already had to do this way too many times during the past two days.

Cornwell was calling again. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this. It's work."

Book already moved away to give her some privacy. "Of course."

Michael picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"What happened on September 1st, 1962?", Cornwell asked. That probably meant Georgiou jumped to that time.

"Um, I don't know. Nothing really significant. The Cuban missile crisis was a month later."

"Come here asap and figure it out on the way. We're already hours behind Georgiou."

"I'm on my way."

-----------

Paul leaned against Tilly's desk and was too aware of Chris's presence next to him. They hadn't talked since Chris's threats the day before and Paul wanted to keep it this way. The lesser he had to think about Chris hurting his family, the better.

But now Chris was annoyed with Tilly and this new Chris didn't hesitate to let her know. "It's been three hours since Georgiou jumped and you still don't know where she went?"

Tilly sounded stressed as she pulled up another calculation on her computer. "Well, we know when. When's easy. Where is much harder. She could be anywhere. But I almost cracked it."

"Crack harder." Even Paul flinched at his raised voice. Tilly clenched her jaws and pulled up another line of coding.

She didn't deserve any of this. Chris himself had said that it was too hard to figure out where and that they should focus on the when.

"Paul, can you come with me for a minute?"

Paul closed his eyes to brace himself and when he followed Chris, he didn't miss Tilly's pitying glance.

"What is it?", Paul asked, once the doors to Chris's office closed behind them.

"It's about Justin. On the night Georgiou stole the Mothership, did he say anything to you that seemed strange?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"We've taken a look at Justin's phone records. Half an hour before Georgiou stormed the place, Justin called an unknown number, that's disconnected since then."

"Okay."

"We've been wondering why Georgiou was able to outsmart our security so easily. It makes a lot more sense if she had inside assistance."

"From Justin?" Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing, even though he shouldn't be surprised by now. It seemed as if Chris was willing to betray all of his old friends for his new Rittenhouse friends. "You can't be serious!"

"We've just suffered a devastating attack. We need to consider all possibilities."

"Well, consider some others", Paul snapped, "Justin is the victim in this situation. He was kidnapped. He doesn't need us questioning his loyalty, he needs us to save him."

"That's what you'll try once Tilly finds out where Georgiou went. But if you think of something more, please tell me."

----------

When Ash arrived at Pike Industries he heard Tilly call out: "I got it! I know where they are."

He hurried over to her desk, Paul, Michael, Pike and Cornwell did the same. Tilly seemed to be intimidated by so many people, but it only lasted a moment. "Um, okay, so it turns out that the negative-mass kinetic energy given off by the Mothership actually leaves behind a trace of ..."

Ash didn't understand a word of what she was saying and Pike apparently wasn't interested in her explanation. "Tilly. Get to the point."

"Yeah, sorry. They're in Nevada," she pulled up a map of Nevada and zoomed in on the area around Las Vegas, "somewhere in this 50-mile radius to be exact."

"Can you do any better than 50 miles?", Pike asked. Tilly stiffened slightly. Something must have happened between the two while Ash was at home.

"Sorry, no."

Ash saw Pike open his mouth and decided to save Tilly from his comment: "Well, it's either the desert or Vegas, so ... Vegas."

"But why would Georgiou go there?", Cornwell asked.

"I'm looking", Michael moved to another computer, "so, September 21, Vegas, 1962. President Kennedy was in town for a DNC fundraiser at the Sands hotel. Sinatra headlining."

Ash crossed his arms. "So what are you thinking? Is Georgiou gonna "JFK" JFK one year early?"

Michael shrugged. "Maybe. The city was filled with celebrities, politicians, the mafia ... If Georgiou killed any of them it would be a disaster."

"Well, then we need to get there first."

Pike nodded. "Correct. We already set up your changing rooms. Please hurry, we don't have much time left."

----------

Ash and Paul were already in the Lifeboat when Michael climbed in. Both of them were wearing suits, while Michael had to wear a dress that made her look something between a waitress and a server. Their trips made her appreciate being born in the 21st century even more than being a historian.

As Michael fastened her seatbelts, Ash leaned forward. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

"What?"

"That ring. Is it part of the costume?"

Michael looked down at the engagement ring Book had given her. She had forgotten to take it off in her hurry to get to work. "Uh, no. Apparently, I'm engaged."

"Congratulations?", Paul called without turning away from the controls.

"To who?", Ash asked.

"Um, his name is Book. I don't think that's his real name, though. More like a nickname or something probably. I've never met him before, but apparently we've been together a long time. There are all these pictures of us that I don't remember."

"Are you gonna take his name or keep yours?", Ash definitely was teasing her now.

"I don't even know his last name", Michael protested.

"You should look on the bright side", Ash suggested.

"There's a bright side? Because I spent the night looking for one."

"You got the honeymoon to look forward to", Ash teased with a grin on his face.

"And you get to go to Vegas", Paul called to them, "ready for take off?"

"Ready."

"Let's go."

Chapter Text

Paul landed them in the middle of the dessert, a few miles outside of Vegas. He hoped that no one would come out this far and see the Lifeboat, since they couldn't hide it in any bushes this time.

"You couldn't land any more out of the way?", Ash asked while they climbed out of the Lifeboat.

"You rather I park on the Strip?", Paul shot back, "we need to-"

He was interrupted by an explosion coming from Vegas.

"We're too late", Michael whispered.

"That's not Georgiou", Ash calmed her, "there's a nuclear test site about 60 miles on the other side if town."

"Who's crazy enough to test a nuclear bomb outside of Vegas?", Paul asked.

"Says the man who developed a time machine in the middle of San Francisco", Ash joked, but he quickly became serious again, "the US Department of Energy. During the 50s and 60s, they tested over 1000 nuclear weapons in the Nevada desert. They set them off a couple of times a week."

Michael stared at him wide eyed. "What?"

Ash shrugged. "I know my military history. Before Vegas was known as Sin City, they called it Atomic City."

Ash nodded toward the city. "Let's go. Did anyone remember to pack sunscreen?"

Paul knew that Ash meant it as a joke, but he suddenly became very aware of the burning sun. For the first time ever he forgot to take sunscreen with him before going somewhere hot. "Fuck. I should've thought of that."

Ash shot him a sympathetic glance, before starting their walk toward Vegas. "Where exactly should we start to look for Georgiou?"

"I'd say the hotel JFK is staying in", Michael suggested, "it's a more expensive one, so most of the celebrities are staying there too. Plus, it shows a popular show tonight."

"If so many important people are staying in this hotel, can we just walk in there?", Paul asked. He really didn't want to go alone inside of a hotel with mafia bosses.

"Yeah, that should be no problem. In the casino are a lot of guests who aren't actually staying in the hotel."

----------

They immediately were embraced by the casino atmosphere, the moment they entered.

Ash had read so many thrillers with this setting, being actually here was really exciting. He wondered if he'd ever get used to traveling to the past.

He turned to Michael. "There's 54 years worth of baseball games we can bet on in here."

Michael only raised her eyebrows before turning back to the other people.

"What? Don't you like money?"

That only got him a head shake. Grinning, Ash also turned his attention back to the room. "See anyone important?"

"Not yet."

"Security's pretty tight", Ash noticed.

"Tickets are sold out", Paul reported, after a short conversation with the man behind the reception.

"So how are we gonna get into the show without them?", Ash asked.

Michael excused herself and made a beeline through the casino. Ash followed her with his eyes until she disappeared through another door. They really had great communication skills in their team.

Paul looked just as confused as Ash felt, but then he just shrugged. "I thought that maybe we could call in a bomb threat?", he returned to their conversation, "they'll shut it down and clear out JFK."

Ash shook his head. "No. For once I know where Georgiou's gonna be. I'm taking her out at the show tonight."

"Okay, and how are you planning on keeping the President and a dozen other celebrities save?"

"Saving history is Michael's job. Mine's Georgiou. And apparently the mission isn't very high on Michael's priorities."

"So you're just going to make this call?", Paul crossed his arms in front of his chest, "no debate?"

"No, in this there's no debate."

"Guys, I got uniforms." Ash turned around at Michael's voice. She really held three hotel uniforms out to them.

"How did you ...", Paul trailed off, unsure.

"Because in '62 black people are pretty much invisible. It's my superpower."

----------

Paul and Ash got a pair of suits, while Michael herself got dressed in a waitress uniform.

They split up to look for Georgiou, so that Ash wouldn't have to take her out at the show. Although Michael doubted that Georgiou would show up in a casino.

She set down a glass in front of a man. The man next to him touched Michael's arm. "Hey sweetie!"

Michael resisted the urge to flinch back, instead she smiled at him. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort, or maybe he just ignored it. "How about a martini and a few hours of you?"

Michael froze while her brain frantically searched for an appropriate response. The only answer it could come up with was Run!

Luckily, she was saved by the woman sitting next to the man. She turned around and grabbed the man by the shoulder. "Really, Joey? If that's how you talk to a lady, it's no wonder you never get one."

The other men laughed and Joey seemed to sink into his chair in embarrassment. Michael felt oddly satisfied at that.

The woman now turned to Michael and her expression softened. "Excuse my friend. He's terrible after his second martini and even worse after his third." She held out a $10 bill.

Michael took it and nodded at her. She couldn't bring herself to smile. "Thank you."

On her way back to Ash and Paul, she recognized some of the people sitting at the desks. It seemed like half of the mafia had gathered here. That didn't necessarily helped Michael feel saver.

"You found someone?", Ash asked.

"Yeah, some gangsters but not really anyone important. Except one. Do you see that guy up there in the dark glasses?", Ash nodded, "that's Sam Giancana. He's the biggest mobster in the country, worked with both the CIA and JFK to try and assassinate Fidel Castro."

"But he's probably not Georgiou's target, is he? Let's just find her."

----------

Paul could feel his skin crawl as he made his way through the crowd of dangerous looking men. He had never been to a casino before and now he remembered why.

He hated social interactions and he especially hated social interactions with people who could and would beat him up if they knew he was gay.

He knew that he was lucky because he could hide that part of himself, unlike Michael, but it still made him afraid.

He almost didn't notice Justin sitting at the bar on the other side of the room. For a short moment he just stared, before hurrying over to his friend.

Paul couldn't really believe it. He was here. Justin was mere feet away from him. He was alive and well enough to be sitting here. Paul could take him home to Amelia and wouldn't have to worry about losing the only person he had left. And he could prove to Chris that Justin wasn't responsible for any of this.

"Justin!", Justin turned around, the surprise obvious on his face, "I can't belive I found you. Come on, let's go. We can get you home. Amelia was so worried about you, we all were."

Justin held up a hand to quiet him. "Paul, you can't be here, you have to go."

Paul shook his head. "Not without you. Let's go."

"If Georgiou comes back and sees you, she'll kill you", Justin urged, "she won't listen to me."

"Why would she? You're her prisoner ..." Paul trailed off as he noticed something. Justin was sitting here, on his own, without any visible security. "Who's completely unsupervised", he added.

A cold feeling ran through his body and he had to think back to Chris's words. Had he been right? Had Justin really betrayed them?

"Justin, what's going on here?"

Chapter Text

Justin lowered his gaze onto the glass in his hands. "I'm sorry, Paul."

"You're helping Georgiou?" A part of him hoped that this was just one big misunderstanding. That there was an explanation for all of this that didn't involve Justin willingly betraying them. "What does she have on you?"

"Nothing", Justin replied calmly, "she doesn't have anything."

"Then why?" Paul hated how desperate he sounded.

Justin just shook his head.

"People are dying because of Georgiou, Justin!"

"Don't you think I know that?", Justin snapped, "all a means to an end, right?"

He raised his half empty glass. "To the amazing Christy Pitt. You'll be with us soon."

What is he talking about? Maybe that was the explanation Paul had been looking for. Maybe Justin had simply lost his mind.

"Justin, you're not making any sense", he pleaded despite the feeling that he was talking to a wall.

"Get out of here, Paul, before it's too late!", Justin urged again, the strange behavior gone again, as quickly as it had started.

Paul didn't move. He couldn't leave Justin behind. Despite everything he just learned, Justin was still his friend. "Justin, please just come with us."

Justin grabbed Paul's arms to look directly into his eyes. "Go! She's on her way and she'll kill you!"

Paul sighed silently. He had tried everything. He couldn't force Justin to go with him if he didn't want to. There was nothing more he could do here, but Michael and Ash still needed his help.

Without another word he left Justin and went back into the crowd, looking for Michael, Ash or Georgiou.

----------

Ash was busy placing several types of alcoholic beverages in front of a group of men, when he spotted Georgiou doing the same a few tables over.

Ash had to admit that it was brave to show up here. After all, the people here could become a danger to her.

He drew his gun and slowly moved closer to Georgiou, who herself was moving through the crowd. Eventually she stopped to talk to a woman, before leaving the room with said woman.

Ash stopped, but only for a short moment. Had they been wrong? Was not JFK Georgiou's target, but this woman here?

Ash didn't recognized her and he had no time to ask Michael. He had to stop Georgiou now.

Ash followed the women through a storeroom and stopped in front of another door. Through the glass he could only see an empty room.

Carefully he pushed the door open and stepped through it.

Immediately a body slammed against his and Georgiou grabbed his gun. She slammed Ash's hand against the wall until he had to let go of the gun.

Once it fell to the ground, Georgiou lessened her grip and drew her own gun. Ash grabbed her hand and janked it upwards. A shot was fired, but it hit the ceiling.

Great. That definitely alerted the guards.

Ash shoved Georgiou to the ground and her gun fell down beside her. Ash kicked it under a nearby shelf.

Now a fistfight started. Ash was trained in hand to hand combat, but Georgiou, as a former NSA agent could keep up with him.

It was a stalemate.

But then Georgiou landed a hit. Her fist hit Ash in the face and for a moment he was too dizzy to act.

Georgiou used this moment to grab a chair. With it she forced Ash out of the storeroom. She blocked the door with the chair and Ash could only watch as she grabbed her gun and fled through another door.

When he turned around he was met with Paul, Michael and the woman.

"Are you okay?", Michael asked him. Ash wiped the blood from his face.

"Fine", he turned to the woman, "why was she after you?"

The woman shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are you Christy Pitt, by any chance?", Paul asked.

Everyone turned to look at him, confused. "What, no. I'm Judith Campbell."

That made Michael gasp. "You're Judith Campbell?", she echoed.

Now it was Ash and Paul's turn to be confused. "Who's Judith Campbell?", Paul whispered.

Michael shook her head. "I'll tell you later. First we have to get out of here."

----------

"I don't think this is a good idea", Paul called out.

He and Michael hurried after Ash who was dragging Campbell through the corridors.

"Me neither", Michael agreed.

Campbell obviously also didn't like being grabbed and dragged around without her consent. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Shut up, we're here to help you!"

"Well, then help me by letting me go!"

Ash definitely was way more aggressive in trying to solve their mission and Paul had no idea why that was. Maybe Chris had threatened him too. Or maybe he was just having a bad day. Paul really hoped it was the latter.

Finally Ash opened a door and shoved Campbell into it. He only released her once he'd locked the door.

The moment he let go of her arm Campbell started to hammer against the door. "Let me out of here!"

"I'm trying to protect you", Ash almost growled.

Campbell spun around. "By kidnapping me from another kidnapper?"

They needed to do something before Ash and Campbell would kill each other. Paul nudged Michael forward. "Do something."

"Me? I'm not very good at ... people."

"You know her. Do something, anything, before she rips his head off."

Michael looked very desperate, but then she stepped between Ash and Campbell. "We're Vegas PD."

Luckily Campbell turned to her and the fighting stopped. "Yeah? Then let's see some badges."

Michael shot Paul a helpless glance. They couldn't fool Campbell as easy as other people. Normally Paul liked people who didn't just belive everything, but now it could get them all killed.

He stepped forward as well. "We're undercover. We don't have our badges with us."

Now Campbell's disbelieving gaze turned to him. "If you're cops, then I'm Princess Grace."

"Okay, we're not cops", Michael admitted.

"What? Really?", Campbell remarked.

"The truth is we do work for the government. We're trying to get the woman who grabbed you. Her name is Philippa Georgiou and she's dangerous. If she wants you, she's not gonna stop coming for you."

Campbell raised her eyebrows and her gaze moved from Michael, to Paul, before settling on Ash. "I should've known that your polite friend is a government agent. You guys really think you can do everything."

Ash opened his mouth to protest, but Paul held up a hand to keep him quiet. "Do you know why Georgiou wants you?"

Campbell shrugged. "Maybe she's jealous. Happens a lot when so many men want you."

Paul had a really hard time with social cues, but even he could see that Campbell was lying. Michael had to see it too, but she didn't say anything. "Okay. Would you be willing to figure this out with us? We're really just trying to keep you safe."

Campbell sighed. "Okay, fine. Can I go to the bathroom first or will your friend throw himself on me again?"

"Of course you can go to the bathroom."

----------

When Campbell was done Ash turned to Michael and Paul. "She's hiding something."

"Yeah. What she's hiding is that she's Kennedy's lover."

"Seriously?", Ash gaped. Maybe it did make sense for Georgiou to target Campbell. It would probably be easier to get to her than to the president of the United States.

"Has been for the last two years. She's also Sam Giancana's lover."

"The mob boss?"

"Yeah. Remember the plot to kill Castro I told you about?"

Ash nodded. This situation was getting more complex by the minute. Luckily Michael had to take care of the history aspect of this all, not him.

"Campbell is the one that delivers messages from JFK to the mob. Not a lot of people know her name, but she is at the dead center of 1960s politics."

"Wow, this is some real Oliver Stone stuff right here", Paul huffed.

"She has some of the most powerful men in the world wrapped around her finger", Michael sounded almost admiring.

"So she's an operator", Ash summarized, "what does Georgiou want with her?"

Michael couldn't answer him anymore. A loud thud from the bathroom startled them all.

Ash went to open the door, but it was locked. He threw himself against it and the door immediately gave in.

Campbell was currently stuck halfway through the window.

Ash only took a moment to calm down a little bit, before grabbing her and pulling her back into the room.

Every minute he spent more time with Campbell the woman became more and more annoying. Why can't she just work with us? It's not that difficult! "I'm tying you up to keep you save", he threatened.

"He's not going to do that", Michael reassured Campbell.

"Oh, the hell I won't!"

He could feel Paul and Michael's judging gazes burn into his back, but he didn't care. This woman was making his job a hundred times more difficult. He wouldn't let her ruin it completely.

Campbell focused on Michael. "Look, I don't know what Georgiou wants, okay? But she threatened me."

"With what?", Ash asked.

Campbell turned to him and she looked as annoyed with him as she was with her. "Personal things that are none of your damn business."

"What, like that you're fucking JFK?"

"Ash!", Michael called out.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot play coy anymore."

"Stop it!"

Campbell seemed to be completely unfazed by their argument, she was still staring at Ash wide-eyed. "How did you know that?"

"Not important. Does Georgiou have something against you?"

Campbell nodded. "She has pictures, okay? How she got them, I don't know, but if I don't do whatever it is she wants, she could ruin me. And cost John the next election." She sounded so small, Ash felt sorry for her.

He softened his voice. "Trust me, we won't say anything."

Suddenly all of the vulnerability was gone and she glared at him again. "Oh, so I should trust you? Before or after you tie me up?"

----------

Georgiou was furious when she got into the car. "You told me they could only see what date we're traveling to. Not where."

Justin kept his eyes on the street. He'd already learned that keeping calm was the best way to deal with Georgiou's anger. "That's right."

"So how did they follow us here?"

"Paul and Tilly are smart. They must've figured out a way."

"I've had enough of Paul."

Justin hit the brakes and turned to Georgiou, ignoring the honking cars driving past them. "Hold on. Paul is just a civilian. He's not a part of this."

"Not a part of this? He's their pilot. He's literally the biggest part of this. If I take him out, they can't chase us at all."

"He's my friend. You're not going to touch him."

Georgiou's features softened. "I'm sorry, Justin, but I told you there's gonna be casualties. If you can't handle that ..."

"Don't give me that", Justin interrupted. He wasn't afraid of Georgiou's threats. She needed him as much as the others needed Paul. "I've given up everything for this. My wife. My family." Paul. But he didn't say that out loud.

"And I haven't given up mine?"

For a moment they just stared at each other, breathing heavily, as Justin resisted the urge to hit her in the face. "I'm not like you. I don't enjoy watching people die."

"If you that's what it takes to wipe Rittenhouse from history, then that's what we have to do. Do you understand that?"

"So it's all a means to an end, huh?"

Georgiou focused back on the road. "Keep driving. We need to get that woman back."

Chapter Text

Michael was very glad that Paul offered to calm down Ash. She didn't have the nerve to deal with him at the moment.

Instead she tried to get on Campbell's good side. "You want water?", Michael asked while pouring herself a glass.

"If you sprinkle it on top of a glass of gin."

Michael smiled at her to acknowledge her joke, even though she didn't particularly feel like laughing. She had to seem accessible to Campbell, so that she could trust her.

For a while they sat in front of each other in silence. But then Campbell spoke up: "So, you and brooding brown eyes in the next room; are you sleeping with him?"

Michael almost choked on her water and spit it back into the glass. "What? No!"

Campbell just shrugged. "He could use it. He's wound up pretty tight."

"Okay ... And how do you know that?"

"I've had experience with men like him." For a moment it seemed like she was looking for the right words. When she spoke again she sounded much more vulnerable again. "So, how'd you know? Did Georgiou tell you?"

"It doesn't matter. Your secret is safe with us. As soon as we find Georgiou, you can go back to ..." Michael stopped. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know anything Campbell could go back to, other than her affairs, but defining her through this felt wrong.

Campbell seemed to guess her thoughts. She scoffed. "Go ahead, say it. You think I'm a tramp."

"No, I think you're interesting." Michael thought back to the moment she first read about Judith Campbell in college. This had been her exact thoughts and she had even told her mother about it.

"No other woman has ever called me that before", Campbell retorted. It was supposed to sound snappy, but it sounded more sad than anything.

"I mean it", Michael assured her. "A woman, especially in this day and age, living the life that you're living. The people that you know, the things that you've seen. It's impressive."

Campbell smiled sadly. "Honestly, I ... I felt like a nobody. And then one night I met Jack and the next morning, it was all different. Like a roller coaster. Did you ever wake up one day and not recognize your own life?"

Michael thought back to Book, and her mom, and Spock. She grabbed her necklace and nodded slowly. "Yes actually. A lot lately."

Campbell nodded in understanding.

Michael doubted that she could even begin to understand her life.

"And now I never know what's going to happen next. I really don't."

"Isn't that terrifying?" Michael liked order. She liked to be able to plan ahead. Surprises were usually bad.

"Some of the time", Campbell admitted.

"Do you ever wish that you could go back to your old life?"

"Never", Campbell shook her head, "It'd be easier, I quess, but if I did, I'd always wonder if I was missing out on something better."

----------

"You said that name before. Who the hell is Christy Pitt?"

Ash was starting to lose his patience with Paul. He apparently was on Michael's side and couldn't understand why Ash wanted to get this mission over with. Additionally he was also repeating himself in his rambling.b

"I don't know. But Justin said that's why they were here."

"And Justin's not a hostage? He's working with Georgiou?"

Paul nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but you don't understand", he hurried to add, "Justin would never hurt anyone. I don't get it. I just don't understand."

A few days ago Ash would've felt pity for Paul who had been betrayed by his best friend. He still kind of did. But his growing frustration overrode every other feeling.

"From the first jump Georgiou has been five steps ahead of us. I'm sick of it. Let's get ahead of her for once."

Paul nodded.

"The name Christy Pitt. Does it mean anything to you?"

"Like I said, I've never heard of her."

"Okay, you find out who she is, I'll take care of Georgiou."

----------

Ash didn't seem much calmer when he and Paul emerged from the bathroom, but at least he was more friendly when talking to Campbell.

"I have a plan", he announced, "but for that I need your help."

Campbell seemed to be just as skeptical as Michael felt. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'll take you back to your hotel room and when Georgiou shows up, which she will, because she wants something from you, I'll take her out."

"You want to use her as bait?", Michael protested.

"Georgiou's not going to hurt her. She needs her for whatever she needs her for."

"Are we a hundred percent sure this is our best plan?", Michael insisted. If something went wrong and Campbell was injured or even killed, it could destroy the timeline.

She looked around to get Paul to back her up, be he had apparently left. Great. We'll just do whatever we want and see whose plan is the best.

"Will you get the pictures back?", Campbell asked.

"Sure. When it's all over, they're yours."

Campbell seemed to be content with that deal, but Michael couldn't risk it. "I need a word."

They entered the bathroom and Michael locked the door.

"We can't risk it. She's too important to JFK and to history."

Ash scoffed. "I cannot do my job boxed in like this, worried about knocking over a salt shaker and somehow changing history."

"This. Is not. A game", Michael hissed. It took her great willpower to keep her voice down.

"I agree. Georgiou wants to wipe out everything, so if we have a shot at her, we take it. I'll so it by myself if I have to."

"You don't give the orders."

"If you've got a problem, take it up with Agent Cornwell."

"I am not a soldier. I don't take orders and you are not taking her. End of discussion."

Ash cocked his head to the side. "Try and stop me."

----------

Not even ten minutes later Campbell and Ash were in her room. Luckily Michael hadn't actually tried to stop him, she had just excused herself to go and find Paul.

Ash wasn't sure if he'd be able to fight her should it come to it.

"So, how long do I have to stand here?", Campbell complained from the window.

"Until Georgiou sees you."

"And you're sure this is safe?"

"Absolutely." Actually, he wasn't so sure. He had no idea for what Georgiou needed Campbell. Maybe having her dead would be enough. But he didn't want to scare her away.

"I've been around long enough to know when a man is lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Tell me something. You got a girl? Someone you love? Would you risk her life? Is that how sure you are?"

Ash didn't know why his mind jumped to Michael, before settling on L'Rell. He also didn't know how to answer the question. "Just trust me."

"If I had a nickel for every time a guy told me that ...", she stopped mid-sentence. "She's coming."

Chapter Text

"Are you sure there's no Christy Pitt here?" Paul asked for the third time. He was sure the man behind the reception would throw him out any minute. "I have this bottle of champagne I'm supposed to deliver to her."

The man shook his head again. "I'm sorry, man. No one by that name."

"Thanks."

He turned around to Michael, but stopped when he saw something else.

Georgiou and one of her men made their way across the room toward the elevators. Georgiou still wore her uniform, so no one cared to stop them.

"I hope Ash knows what he's doing", he murmured.

Michael turned around as well. "I wouldn't count on that", she scoffed. "Come on. I'm not going to stand here and do nothing."

----------

Ash waited behind a corner for Georgiou to enter Campbell's room.

He had told the woman to wait in the bathroom, but he could hear that she wasn't listening.

Then, something hard hit him in the head and he fell to the ground.

Through the heavy fog clouding his vision he could see Campbell hurrying through the door, but as he tried to sit up, a burning headache forced him back to the ground.

----------

Michael and Paul arrived to see Ash standing in front of the elevator, Georgiou and Campbell nowhere to be seen.

Ash spun around, gun pointed toward them.

Michael raised her hands as Paul called out: "It's just us!"

Ash lowered the gun, but he didn't look pleased. "I told you to wait downstairs."

"Yeah, because you had it well in hand", Ash's eyes bored into hers, but she didn't look away. "It's the truth. What happened anyway?"

"She double-crossed us. Went right to Georgiou."

Michael sighed. "Of course she did. Georgiou still has the pictures and she's still afraid that she's going to use them. She has the upper hand." After a pause she added: "Plus, you could've been a little nicer to her."

Ash sighed heavily. "Okay, you're right. I was wrong, my plan failed. But what now?"

"We don't know where Georgiou might take her. So our best shot is to stay here and try to find this mysterious Christy Pitt", Paul suggested.

"Okay", Michael agreed, even though she was still mad that Ash had let Campbell escape. But she could deal with this later. "Let's split up again."

----------

It was the third time today that Ash saw the man sending telegrams. Suddenly a strange idea popped into his head.

Were telegrams still used in 2012?

It was a far stretch, but maybe it could work. He made his way over to the booth.

"Hey man, is it possible to have a telegram delivered in 2012?"

The man stared at him as if he had grown a second head. "2012?", he repeated, "you want this telegram delivered 50 years from now?"

"Look, your slogan says you can do it anytime, anywhere. So can you do it or not?"

The man shrugged. "It's your money. What do you want the message to say?"

"Hello L'Rell.

"I know this might be hard to understand, but whatever happens on Saturday, February 11th, 2012, do not take LSD. Take any other drug if you have to, or maybe let Ash help you for once. Please listen to him, just this once. He only wants the best for you. Because he loves you, more than you'll ever know."

During his message tears had started to pool in his eyes and Ash blinked them away. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's it. Thanks."

He payed the man the seven dollars and turned around to leave.

Michael was standing behind him, watching him intently.

Shit.

Ash had wanted to apologize to her about his earlier behavior but surely she wouldn't want to hear it now.

He tried to calm her down by joking: "It worked in Back to the Future II ."

Michael shook her head. "Ash ..."

He interrupted her by raising his hands. "I know what you're going to say."

"No, you don't. Just listen, please. I understand. I would do anything to get my brother, my family back."

This was surprising. Ash had never expected her to apologize. But maybe they could make up now.

"Look, I'm sorry about before. I get that it's your job to keep history the way it's meant to be. I don't believe in "meant to be", though", he gestured the quotation marks in the air, "or fate or anything like that. And if you knew what happened to L'Rell you wouldn't either. It's all just dumb luck and random chance. It's just a roll of the dice."

----------

After Paul had spent close to two hours walking aimlessly through the casino, listening to the people there, and ignoring his growing anxiety, he decided to take a break.

He moved back into the lobby, leaned back against a wall and closed his eyes.

Their missions somehow managed to get worse and worse. Sure, the previous two had been hard, but at least they'd known what to do.

As he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell onto a poster advertising the atomic bomb tests as a great spectacle.

Suddenly he remembered something from a guest lecture about the development of the atomic bomb at MIT.

"Christy proposed the idea to compress sub-critical plutonium into supercriticality. Because of this, some call the plutonium core of an A-bomb as the 'Christy pit'."

That's what Justin had meant. Of course it had been. He had always been fond of the old, outdated slang of scientific processes. He'd joked that it made him seem smarter. Why had it taken Paul this long to figure it out? It was so obvious.

Georgiou wasn't looking for a person, she was looking for an atomic bomb.

I need to tell Michael and Ash about this.

He found both of them talking in front of a telegrapher.

"Guys, guys, guys!", he interrupted them. He didn't care if their conversation had been important, this was more important. "I know why Georgiou is here. It was staring me right in the face. I'm sorry I didn't get it earlier."

Michael held her hands up in front of him. "Slow down."

Paul nodded and actually paused to breathe, before speaking again. "Christy Pitt. It's not a person. It's slang for an A-bomb's plutonium core. But it's such an outdated phrase. I've only heard it once at ..."

He noticed that he was starting to ramble and trailed off.

Ash raised his eyebrows, already sounding stressed again. Paul couldn't blame him. "Georgiou's looking for a nuke?"

"Seems like it."

"How in the world could she possibly steal an atom bomb without anyone noticing? Even fifty years in the past."

"She doesn't have to steal the whole bomb, just the plutonium core", Paul explained. "Once the pit's removed, it's actually quite small."

Ash scoffed. "What, so Georgiou is suddenly an expert at dismantling an atomic bomb?"

"She doesn't have to be", Michael chimed in. Paul nodded.

"She's got Justin."

He didn't miss the pointed look Ash gave him, before asking: "Could they take the core to the Mothership?"

"I don't know", Paul admitted. "It's not exactly something we ever tried before. But if it explodes during a jump, who knows what it'll do? To the past or the present."

Ash shook his head. "And Georgiou's just crazy enough to try it. We have to stop her. Does anyone have an idea how to.get to the test site fast?"

"I might have an idea", Michael moved toward the entrance, "follow me."

----------

Still in her stolen work uniform Michael managed to get the keys to a car. She turned to Ash and Paul. "See? Invisible."

For a moment they stood in front of the car, nobody moved. Then Ash broke the silence. "So, are you going to drive?"

Michael's blood ran cold. She hadn't even sat behind the wheel since the accident. She couldn't do it. Not when the stakes were this high. If she panicked, that would blow everything up. She shook her head. "I can't."

She held the keys out to Paul, but he pushed them back. "I also can't drive. I don't even have a license."

Ash raised his eyebrows. "You can pilot a time machine but you can't drive a fucking car?"

When Paul just shrugged he sighed and grabbed the keys. "Fine, I'll drive."

----------

The road to the test site was completely empty except for a pair of headlights heading their direction. They were too late, Georgiou already had the plutonium core.

Ash voiced Paul's concerns. "I think that's them."

The other car came closer and closer, but Ash made no move to move out of the way.

"Ash, what are you doing? They're going to hit us!", Michael protested.

Ash shook his head. "No, they won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"If they have the bomb, we'd all blow up."

Ash proved to be right. In the moment before they'd crash both Georgiou and Ash moved out of the way. Both cars came to a stop next to the road.

Ash immediately opened the door. "Stay inside."

Paul met Michael's gaze and knew that they were thinking the same thing. They would never wait in the car.

"Ash, you cannot do this alone", Michael protested, "let us help."

Ash hesitated before nodding. "Fine."

"I'll get the bomb." And Justin.

Michael nodded. "I'll get Judith."

They opened their doors at the same time, but didn't yet leave the car.

That was the right decision as bullets shot through the air.

Ash was already busy shooting back. "Go! I'll cover you."

Paul and Michael nodded at each other and started running at the same time.

Paul opened the door to Georgiou's car, Michael behind him.

Justin was curled up on the backseat, the suitcase with the core hugged to his chest. Campbell was nowhere to be seen.

Michael laid a hand on Paul's shoulder. "I'll look for her. Good luck."

Paul acknowledged her with a short nod, before climbing into the car.

"Justin, give me the suitcase."

"I can't."

"You can't give Georgiou an atomic bomb. There is no means to an end that justifies this." Paul laid a hand on his best friend's arm. "I know you, Justin. This isn't you."

Chapter Text

Michael eventually found Campbell covering behind a rock. She knelt down next to her. "Judith! Are you okay?"

Campbell raised her head and Michael could see that she was crying. "I didn't know", she whispered, "I wouldn't have helped her if I knew about the bomb."

"I believe you", Michael reassured her. That earned her a small smile. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now.

"I'm here to get you out of here, okay? Come on."

----------

Ash fired his last shot at the same time that Georgiou hit their car's tire.

She used the moment of Ash reloading his gun to get to her car and start the engine.

"Fuck!"

Ash ran after them, aiming at Justin's head, that was visible through the window.

This was his chance to end this chase for good.

Justin was no longer a hostage, he was working for the enemy. If Ash took him out now Georgiou could no longer navigate the Mothership.

Paul seemed to guess what Ash planned to do, he jumped in front of him, his arms held out in front of him. "No!"

Georgiou was driving fast, Ash couldn't get a clean shot for much longer.

"Get out of the way, Paul!"

Paul shook his head. "No! Justin gave us the bomb!"

"That's not good enough!"

"He's my friend. The only person I have left. I won't let you kill him."

Ash couldn't hold Paul's pleading gaze any longer. He lowered his eyes as well as his gun.

Georgiou's car moved around a corner and out of sight.

"Thank you."

----------

Michael watched while Ash and Paul tried to get their car working again. Walking back to the Lifeboat, through the desert in the dark wasn't appealing to any of them.

But judging by Ash's swearing and Paul's snapping it wasn't working.

Sighing, Michael returned to Campbell, who was watching the men from farther away, leaning against a rock. "So, was it worth it? Protecting John?"

Campbell didn't turn her eyes away from the car. "I didn't do it for John. I did it for me. I mean, at the end of the day, that's all I have, right?"

She pushed herself off the rock. "I should get going. I don't think your friends are going to fix that car soon."

Michael nodded silently, watching Campbell leave. She realized that she had become attached to someone who was long dead. Again.

Despite only knowing Campbell through historic texts and now for a little over a day, she cared about the other woman.

"Hey!", Campbell turned around again, eyebrows raised in question. "Are you gonna be okay?"

Campbell smiled softly at her, before nodding. "Always am."

For a moment they watched each other silently, before Campbell turned around again.

She stopped when she passed Ash. "Oh, hey. Sorry about the crack on the head, gorgeous. Don't take it personal."

And with those words she disappeared into the night.

----------

With a sigh Ash gave up on the car and stepped back to Michael, who was still looking into the dark where Campbell had left.

"What happens to her?"

Michael sighed before turning to look at him. "Eventually her secrets come out anyway. She's vilified by the public, and she dies of cancer."

"Damn. She seems like she had it all together."

"No one's got it all together."

They were interrupted by Paul's uncertain voice. "Uh, guys?"

He kneeled over the open suitcase with the atomic bomb inside. Ash opened his mouth to ask why Paul had opened it, when he saw it.

The suitcase was empty.

Michael gasped beside him and Paul looked up from the ground with horror written all over his face.

"Paul ... Does this mean that Georgiou has the nuke?"

----------

Paul sat on a rock, listening to Ash and Michael arguing in the distance.

He knew that he fucked it up. He should've let Ash shoot Justin. After all he was helping Georgiou destroy America and had just given her an atomic bomb.

But he was still Paul's friend. And he couldn't bear to lose someone else.

His mind kept replaying the last times he had spoken to Justin before his 'kidnapping'. He hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Hell, in their very last conversation Justin had invited Paul to the opera.

So why was he helping Georgiou? Was it some sort of Stockholm-Syndrom? Or did Georgiou blackmail him to help her, just like she did with Campbell?

It just didn't make any sense for Justin to help her voluntarily. But then, why had he tricked Paul? Why had he not given him the bomb?

Paul looked up when he heard approaching footsteps. Michael stood in front of him.

"We should get going. The car is a hopeless cause and we need to get back asap."

Paul nodded and pushed himself off the rock. "I'm sorry", he mumbled, not meeting Michael's gaze.

"It's not your fault for trusting your friend. Ash should understand this. Given he has any friends."

----------

Michael exited the Lifeboat first and looked around. Everything seemed to be normal. At least the bomb didn't completely destroy the timeline.

Pike and Cornwell were already rushing towards them. "Did you find Georgiou?", Pike asked.

"Yeah", Ash jumped to the ground beside Michael, "we found her."

Pike raised his eyebrows. "And? What did she want in Las Vegas?"

Michael glanced over at Ash, who was looking at Paul expectantly. Paul swallowed thickly. "You're gonna want to sit down for this."

Pike and Cornwell were still curious, but they led the way into Pike's office. The moment the door closed they turned to them. "So?"

Michael decided to sit down herself, Ash and Paul following her lead.

When everyone was sitting down, Paul began to speak: "Georgiou blackmailed Judith Campbell into helping her get an atomic bomb. She threatened to expose her relationship with JFK. When we tried to stop them, it came to a gun battle. We managed to save Campbell in the chaos. However, Justin and Georgiou were able to get the bomb."

Silence followed his words while Pike and Cornwell processed what he had said.

"Georgiou has a fucking nuke?", Pike asked eventually. Michael didn't miss the way Paul flinched at his loud words. "You can't be serious!"

"We saved Judith Campbell", Michael intervened, "and kept history the same."

Pike turned to face her. "But Philippa Georgiou is still alive, and she got away with an atomic bomb."

"The situation was chaotic", Ash defended them.

Cornwell decided to partake in the conversation. "And you think that Justin Straal is working with Georgiou?"

Everyone turned to Paul. His gaze was cold and determined. "I think it's complicated. There has to be an explanation as to why. Justin's not the type of guy that would do something like that."

Cornwell smiled at him, it was warm and full of pity. "They never are on the surface."

"Well, that makes one part of our job easier", Pike spoke up again, "we don't have to rescue Justin anymore. We just need to eliminate him, leave Georgiou without anyone to pilot the Mothership."

Ash nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"And in this gun battle, did you ever get a shot at Justin?"

Ash thought for a short second, before shaking his head. "Never a clean shot."

"Next time, make sure you do."

----------

"Tilly?"

Tilly startled at Pike's voice. She had been so focused on her work that she hadn't heard him return from the debriefing.

"Yeah?"

"You found the Mothership in Vegas in the past. Do you think you might be able to track her down in the present?"

Tilly looked over at her computer, where the calculations from earlier were still open. She could probably use the same algorithm if she adjusted it a bit.

"Probably, but it'll take some time."

"Great. Then get started."

Really? I've been here for over 14 hours!

But she didn't speak her thought out loud. She knew that Pike had been in a bad mood lately and she didn't see a reason to provoke him.

Instead, she just nodded and went back to work.

----------

Michael was already halfway through the door, when she realized she had forgotten her handbag in Pike's office.

She turned on her heels and made her way back into the building.

If she was being honest with herself, she didn't mind staying for a while longer. She wasn't looking forward to going home to a fiancé she didn't know.

Through the glass wall she could see Ash still sitting at the table. He was looking at something on a laptop.

If Michael had to guess she'd say it has something to do with the telegram he had sent to 2012.

She slowly opened the door and grabbed her bag. "Sorry, I forgot my ..."

She stopped when she saw his face. Ash closed his eyes in pain and quickly shut off his laptop.

"It didn't work?"

Ash shook his head without opening his eyes.

"I'm so sorry." She was kind of surprised that she really meant it. For once she didn't care about the timeline. Ash and Paul had suffered terrible losses and they deserved to get their loved ones back. Just as much as she wanted her family back.

"It was a long shot anyway." Ash opened his eyes and moved to stand up. "I'm gonna change out of these clothes."

Michael decided to walk back home. She didn't trust herself to get back to driving again and she didn't want to ask somebody to drive her.

Additionally, it would give her time to think.

It was crazy how much her life had changed in just a few days.

Three days ago she had been in jail for voluntary manslaughter, getting visits from her adoptive mother and brother.

Now she was a free woman, nobody even remembered her crime and the man she'd killed still lived.

At home her biological mother and fiance would be waiting for her, excited to spend more time with a woman Michael didn't know how to be.

Knowing her mom would be there had been strange, it still was sometimes, but she was also happy to have her mother back.

She didn't have such feelings about Book. Sure, he was nice and maybe Michael could grow to like him, but she didn't know how she could possibly marry him.

Maybe they could talk. Could she convince him to postpone the wedding by a few months? By then she could have changed the past enough for her and Book to no longer be a thing.

Michael definitely needed to have a talk with Book.

When she returned home, Book was expecting her with a warm smile. "Hey. How was work?"

"I met this woman today", Michael told him, "and she seemed like she had it all together, but the truth is that she didn't. No one has it all together. Least of all me."

Book raised his arms for an embrace, but Michael took a step back, so he dropped them again. "I know. And it's okay."

Michael took a deep breath and decided to get to the point. "A lot has changed recently at work and I need to get my head straight. I don't know if I can do that while I'm living here. With you."

She didn't sound as confident as she had hoped and she couldn't meet Book's gaze. Still she could hear the concern in his voice as he asked: "Is this about the wedding? We can elope, if that's what you want."

Michael shook her head, eyes fixed on the red carpet. "It's not that. I'm going to stay with my mom for a few days or weeks. I'm not really sure how long. I'm sorry."

While she said it, Michael realized that she had no idea about her mother's living arrangements. When she had first arrived here she had thought it to be her mom's house. Maybe her mom couldn't handle another person living with her.

But it didn't matter. Everything would be better than staying here with Book. She would survive a few weeks on the streets or she could ask someone at work for help.

Book didn't answer her for quite some time. But when he did, it wasn't what she had expected. "Okay."

Surprised, Michael looked up at him. "Really?"

Book raised his hands as if he intended to touch her, but he let them fall again. "Michael, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so if you need to spend some time, figuring things out first ... Do it. I'll still be here when you're ready."

Michael had to admit that her other self was really lucky. Book was a very considerate, nice man, so unlike most men Michael had met.

But she wasn't sure if she could ever feel such love for Book and she definitely wasn't feeling it right now.

"Thank you. I'll just grab a few things first."

----------

Paul had spent the whole evening sitting at his desk, pretending to be working while he was watching Ash through the glass of Chris's office.

He wanted to talk to him, but Ash didn't seem to be in the mood for talking and Michael had confirmed as much.

But now Ash was leaving and Paul took the opportunity to catch up to him. "Hey!"

Ash turned around but didn't say anything.

"Thanks for not ... throwing me under the bus in the debriefing. Justin's a good guy. I know you don't know him, but trust me, I do. There is something going on, and I am not going to let my friend die without knowing the truth. And I'd so the same for you and Michael."

Would you do the same for Chris? Three days ago the answer would have been an immediate yes. But now Paul wasn't sure anymore.

Ash simply nodded. "Thanks."

"Aren't you at all curious as to why all of this is happening?" Paul couldn't really believe this. But then again, he had always been told that he was too curious for his own good. Maybe this was just one of those instances.

"I don't get trained to why. Just the who, what, where and when."

"Yeah, but without the why, how can we be sure we're on the right side of things?"

The question had been in Paul's mind ever since Chris had started to act like a controlling asshole and Justin had started working with the enemy. But he'd never really given it much thought. Now though, it was all he could think about.

----------

"I found it!"

Tilly looked around the room to see if anyone was still there to hear her.

Paul was still sitting next to her, but he had fallen asleep on the desk about an hour ago and everyone else has long gone home.

Other than Pike apparently. He exited his office and made his way over to them.

"Where?", he called over, not caring about waking Paul up.

Tilly kept her voice low to an almost-whisper, not sure if Paul was even still asleep. But, different than Pike, Tilly couldn't afford to get on Paul's bad side. "I've got it to a 50-mile radius", she announced proudly.

"We need to do better than that." With just that one sentence Tilly felt extremely discouraged. She had spend five hours trying to figure something out that had previously been thought to be impossible. Couldn't Pike see that she was trying her best?

"That will be extremely difficult, Sir", she dared to protest. She just wanted to go home, crawl into bed and cuddle her dog.

"You still have four hours before work starts again. We need to find the Mothership. When we find it, we find Georgiou.

Tilly could only nod and watch her boss return to his office. Does he ever even leave?

"Don't listen to him, you did a great job."

Tilly startled at the sound of Paul's voice. He was sitting up now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Paul waved her off. "It's fine and it was Chris anyway. He might be in a bad mood right now but that doesn't make what you did any less impressive. Justin and I couldn't do it in ten years and you did it in five hours."

Tilly felt tears forming in her eyes at the praise, but she fought them back. Don't make this awkward, Sylvia.

Nevertheless, she thought that she had a right to be proud. The others had told her many times that Paul was very hard to impress. He must really think what he was saying.

----------

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

Justin turned around to Georgiou, who was carrying the shovel over her shoulders.

"Of course I'm sure. Do you think I wouldn't document anywhere were I buried the plutonium core of an atomic bomb? This is the right place."

Georgiou just shrugged and turned to adress the other men who had never bothered to introduce themselves to Justin.

"Well then, let's get started, we don't have all night."

Chapter Text

"I got it."

Paul startled awake at Tilly's words. Did I fall asleep again?

He really needed to go home more often after work. If he wasn't awake enough they wouldn't be able to save Justin and stop Georgiou.

Paul shook his head to clear it from these thoughts, as well as the sleepiness. He focused on Tilly, who was beaming at him. "I got it!", she repeated.

"Got what?", Chris, who was sitting down at Tilly's other side, asked.

"Okay, when the Mothership returned to the present, I tracked it down to this 50-mile area of Oakland, right?"

Chris nodded. "None of this is news."

"Well, I accessed the city power grid's computers, and this electrical substation here has massive power drains. Like, enough power to either stage Lollapalooza ..."

"... or recharge the Mothership", Paul continued her thoughts. He couldn't adequately express how proud he was of Tilly, who had grown so much since she'd first started her internship.

Chris circled an area on Tilly's screen with his finger. "You're saying you've narrowed its location down to this neighborhood?"

"No. I'm saying I've narrowed it to this ...", she zoomed in even more on the map on her screen, "... block."

----------

Justin blinked five times to get his vision to focus again. This was a bad time for his sleep deprivation to catch up to him.

This being the moment he was busy with stabilizing the plutonium core of an A-bomb.

He quietly hummed along to the Opera that was playing in hopes that it would keep him relaxed and focused.

"Hey, how about we put on some Black Sabbath?"

Justin quickly glanced up to Georgiou before turning his attention back to the core.

"My music relaxes me. You want me relaxed."

Both of them startled as the sound of an explosion shook the building.

Georgiou pushed herself off the table. "We got company. You need to hurry."

Justin just rolled his eyes. He needed the energy he'd have to spend on talking for his work.

He heard some gun shots, before Georgiou came rushing back. "How much longer?"

Justin glanced over at the screen.

89%

"Thirty seconds."

"We need to go now!"

Justin didn't take the time to look up to Georgiou. "If you want to take this thing on board without it exploding, it's thirty seconds."

He slowly pushed another wire into the core to stabilize it.

92%

One of the wires shot an electrical shock up Justin's arm.

95%

A bullet shot into the wall right next to Justin.

99%

"I got it! Move! Move! Go, go, go!"

Georgiou gave him cover while Justin carried the core to the Mothership. "Grab what you can!", she ordered.

----------

Michael, Paul, Tilly, Pike and Cornwell were watching the raid on the warehouse on the screen in Pike's office.

They watched through Ash's body cam as the Mothership jumped away.

Pike hit on the glass wall behind him, which made Paul and Tilly flinch. "Fuck!"

"The techs are combing through everything now", Ash reported, "Georgiou left a lot behind, but there's no sign of the nuke."

"Do we have a lock on where she went?"

"On it." Tilly pulled up a program on the computer on the table. Michael could see her freeze the moment she had the answer.

"December 9, 1944. Germany."

Michael could understand Tilly's terror and she knew that everyone else was thinking the same.

"The US didn't have a working A-bomb until 1945", Paul spoke eventually, "if Georgiou gives one to the nazis before the war is over ..."

"... the war is over", Pike finished grimly.

He leaned forward to adress Ash. "You need to get back here asap."

----------

When Ash returned to Pike Industries the others were no longer sitting inside of Pike's office. Instead they stood around Tilly's desk.

"Georgiou is somewhere inside this 50 square mile area in northwest Germany, 1944", Tilly reported when Ash joined them.

"What's so special about there?", he asked.

Tilly sighed. "That's the thing. Not much. Lots of forest, farmland, a local castle."

"What about the date. Any significance?"

Michael shook her head. "There's one thing. There was a tavern called 'Das Stein Haus' there. It may have been a rendezvous place for the Allied Resistance. But it's not 100%. The accounts are spotty, but someone there can point us in the right direction."

"Just so we're clear, you want us to drop into nazi territory, roll up blind to some bar, and just convince someone there that we don't know to help us?", Ash summarized, "by the way, we should do that?" He gestured between himself and Michael. He might've been able to blend in in a bar full of nazis in 1937's New Jersey, but that wouldn't work in Nazi Germany.

Michael shrugged. "It's either that or give the nazis a nuclear weapon."

"Um, not to interrupt but does any of you speak German?", Tilly asked.

Ash nodded. "I do."

Everyone turned to look at him. "Really?", Michael sounded surprised, "you do?"

"Yeah, four languages actually. Being in the army does that. But I don't speak it fluently. Native speakers will definitely notice my accent."

"That's not enough", Pike decided. "With your appearance you'll only end up in a Konzentration Camp. Paul, didn't you grow up speaking German?"

Paul visibly stiffened as everyone's eyes turned to him.

"Uh, yeah. But I really don't think that's a good idea."

"You heard what Burnham said. Either that or leave the nazis with an atomic bomb. You have a responsibility to the whole world now. I know that you have problems with social interactions. But you can do it. I believe in you."

Paul seemed surprised by Pike's reassuring words. But he swallowed thickly and nodded. "Okay. Fine."

Pike clapped loudly. "Great. Now, if you would please follow me?"

He lead Michael, Ash and Paul through a door Ash hadn't even noticed before. They were met by rows upon rows of clothes.

"This is the wardrobe dock", Pike explained proudly. "Hundrets of expertly-crafted outfits suitable for any era, sorted by geographic area, then by year. Germany's this way."

As they walked past all those clothes, Ash felt a little bit like traveling through time all over again. But this type of time travel was much more enjoyable.

"Isn't that all a bit much?", Michael asked.

"Well, it's better to have and not need, than need and not have. And it doesn't seem like these missions are ending any time soon, so ..." Ash winced at the obvious stab at their success rate.

They passed a sign that read Germany 1940s and Pike turned around. "You can choose pretty much everything in here. But remember who you would be in the 40s." His gaze lingered on Michael for a moment, before he continued speaking. "Changing rooms are over there. Please hurry, we're waiting outside."

Ash and Paul chose dark pants with a white shirt and a coat, while Michael wore a plaid dress with a coat.

"It'd be fantastic if Georgiou jumped to a time where women wore pants", Michael commented on her clothes.

Ash gave her a reassuring smile. "I bet. But you always look stunning."

He only received an eye roll in return and decided to change the subject. "So, when we get to this tavern, how do we let them know we're friendly?"

Back in her element Michael immediately looked more comfortable. "Uh, well, the accounts that I've read said that you have to order a specific Cognac at the bar. A '23 Remy Martin."

"Are these the spotty, unreliable accounts?", Paul chimed in. He still looked really nervous.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Sighing, Paul ran a hand through his hair. "Great. That's just great."

Hoping to distract the other man from their dangerous mission, Ash asked: "So, how come you speak German? Pike said you grew up speaking it?"

"I did. My grandparents fled to the US during the war and my mom was always very proud of her German heritage. We've been to Germany many times when I was a kid."

Pike and Cornwell had heard the last part of their conversation, as the three caught up to them.

"I bet you've never seen Germany like this", Pike joked.

"You're right. And I would be more than happy to keep it that way."

"Unfortunately, that's not a possibility. Are you guys ready?"

Michael nodded, Ash answered with a "Ready" and Paul, while hesitantly, nodded as well.

"Great. Then let's get started."

Chapter Text

While concentrating on navigating the Lifeboat Paul managed to ignore the anxiety churning in his stomach.

He had always been good at burrowing his worries in work.

They landed in a forest not too far away from the tavern.

When Paul turned around to exit the Lifeboat, Ash and Michael were still sitting in their seats. Ash was pale and breathing heavily, while Michael looked a bit better, but not by much.

"We really need to start bringing some Dramamine", Ash complained.

"Like I already said, you'll get-"

Paul stopped mid-sentence when he saw movements from outside the Lifeboat.

A German soldier staggered out of the bushes and stared at them wide-eyed.

Before Paul could even formulate a coherent thought, Ash grabbed his gun and shot. The soldier fell to the ground.

"Fuck!", Ash groaned, his nausea already forgotten. "We have to do something about that", he gestured to the body, "there's no way he's out here alone."

Michael was already climbing outside, Ash following. Paul shut off the Lifeboat, instead of putting it on standby, and jumped out as well.

"Let's take him further into the forest, away from the Lifeboat. This way his friends shouldn't find her when they come looking for him", Paul suggested.

"No, we need to get rid of the body", Ash decided, "we can't let the nazis find a bullet from a 2015's gun in him."

Ash grabbed the soldier's feet and started pulling him through the brambles. Paul and Michael hurried behind him.

"You couldn't have, I don't know, tied him up or something?", Michael asked.

"Yeah, I could have, but he might've escaped", Ash shot back, but it didn't sound as angry as a few days ago.

"Okay, I get that you didn't really have a choice with this one, but if you don't have to kill someone again, you shouldn't. We should at least try to protect history."

Ash turned around to stare at Michael. "Protect nazis?"

"No, I'm just saying there is a bigger picture here."

They pushed the body down a ravine and it disappeared into the bushes. "That should work."

Paul looked around him. They were surrounded on all sides by trees and brambles. "So, how do we find the tavern from here?"

Michael started to walk again. "Let's see if we can find a road or something. From there it should be easier to orientate ourselves."

They found the tavern soon enough and ducked behind a fallen tree.

"All right, Paul heads in, orders the drink, hopefully gets some help."

"Or at least not die", Paul interrupted.

"Paul ..."

"I'm walking into a tavern full of nazis, not dying is my highest priority right now."

"That's fair", Michael gave in.

Ash sighed and continue. "Okay, so, while Paul goes in there and tries not to die and maybe get some help, Michael, you and I will get us one of those cars over there."

Paul followed Ash's finger with his eyes to a row of cars parking outside the tavern.

"We don't know who or what is in there, and if things go south, we need a car with the engine running. I can hot-wire one."

Paul ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It didn't work at all.

His grandmother had told him a lot of stories about the horrors of the nazi regime. Paul really wasn't looking forward to seeing it for himself.

When all of this was over Chris owed him a lot of therapy.

"Okay, let's get this over with."

They split up and Paul entered the tavern. The moment he stepped across the doorway two dozen people in nazi uniforms turned to look at him. Paul froze. For a moment he forgot every single word in the German language, so he just nodded awkwardly and turned to walk to the counter.

He could feel the eyes of the German officers as he ordered the '23 Remy Martin.

"We don't serve that here", the barkeeper told him, "do you want something else?"

Fuck. What do we do now? The Cognac had been their only lead in finding Georgiou.

"A beer, please."

He decided to sit down and wait. Maybe someone from the Resistance had overheard him.

He tried not to look too nervous while also subtly taking in his surroundings. He was the only civilian here, as far as he could tell. It didn't look very well for him.

"Good morning."

Paul flinched when the man spoke up. He hadn't heard him approach.

He forced himself to smile up at the German officer. "Good morning, Captain."

The man's eyes seemed to look right into Paul's soul. For a moment he wondered if nazis were able to detect Jewish people by their scent.

That's ridiculous. He's just cautious.

"I've never seen you before. Are you from around here?"

"Just passing through, Sir", Paul explained, "I'm on my way to Antwerp."

The Captain raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Are you?" He still sounded suspicious.

Paul started to regret not asking Ash for a gun. But then again, even a gun from the 21st century wouldn't be of much use against two dozen German soldiers.

"Exit through the back door, please", the Captain requested, still sounding cautiously polite.

This is it. He would be shot the moment he stepped through that door. Michael and Ash would be stuck in Nazi Germany and they would become three more casualties of World War II.

Still, Paul obeyed and stood.

----------

Ash and Michael climbed into one of the cars. "Do you know how these cars work?", Michael asked.

Ash shook his head. "It can't be too hard. Just give me a moment."

He pulled a lever and a horn sounded. Michael and Ash flinched. "Sorry", he whispered.

After a few more minutes he started to work on the cables. Michael stared out the window at the tavern.

She didn't feel the same excitement she had felt during their last few trips. She had always been horrified by the actions of the nazis and wanted to stay as far away from them as possible, even in her lectures.

Now she was sitting fifty feet away from some of the most dangerous men in history and Paul was alone in there.

"Hurry up. We don't know how much time we have", she urged Ash.

"Just one more second."

He touched two cables and the engine came to life.

Michael took a relieved breath. At least something was going according to plan.

Then she looked up and saw Paul walking through the back door, escorted by a German officer.

A curse from Ash told her that he had also seen it.

"Paul needs our help", he decided, "come on."

----------

The Captain led Paul into a shed behind the tavern.

As expected he pointed a weapon at Paul the moment they stepped inside. But to Paul's surprise the man didn't shoot.

"What are you doing here?", he asked instead, in English this time, "you're going to get us all killed."

Paul just stared at him. Had he really found a Resistance fighter? But they didn't really have people posing as German captains, did they?

The man seemed to understand the doubt in Paul's eyes. He lowered his weapon. "Maybe you can tell by my accent, but I'm not German."

"So... you're-"

"Allied Resistance", the man confirmed, "I was in the middle of gathering intel until you waltzed in. I swear, you Americans. You couldn't stand out more if you tried."

Paul made a mental note to let Ash or Michael do the undercover work next time they had to walk into a tavern full of nazis.

"Look, I'm so-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence.

The door flew open, Michael and Ash stormed in, pointing a gun at the Captain's head. "Don't move!"

The Captain briefly glanced at the two of them before turning back to Paul. "I stand corrected."

Paul raised his hands again. "Ash, it's okay. He's okay."

Ash slowly lowered his gun and he and Michael stepped beside Paul.

Luckily, their distraction had given him some moments to think, so he could think of a story to tell the Captain. "We work with the OSS. I'm Paul Stamets, those are my colleagues Michael Burnham and Ash Tyler."

"Okay, so what are you lot doing here, besides cocking up my operation?", the Captain asked.

Luckily for Paul, Ash decided to take over the conversation. "If it's all the same, I'd love to take this conversation someplace a little bit more nazi free."

"We got a car", Michael offered.

The Captain nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait", Michael called after him, "what's your name?"

The Captain turned around again. "Fleming. Ian Fleming. MI6"

Paul briefly wondered if he had misheard. Surely this couldn't be true. But when he looked at Michael and Ash, they were staring at Fleming just as wide-eyed.

"Wait a minute. You're Ian Fleming?", Ash repeated.

Fleming nodded slowly. "Have we met?"

Ash shook his head. "No. It's just ... No."

"Right." Fleming turned to the door a second time. "Shall we?"