Chapter 14: August 10, 2006

The Saturday after Megan told him the code phrase, Rory asked her to go on a walk, just the two of them. They went down to a nearby park, talking about all sorts of things. They explored the gazebo, and while there, he got down on one knee and proposed to her.

She said “Yes”—unsurprisingly—but indicated that he would need a vasectomy first, while she planned the wedding. They wanted a small ceremony, but it would still take time, and she had a sparkle in her eye as she suggested it.

So Rory called a local urologist to make an appointment. They met once to go over the details of the procedure, and to make sure it was a good thing for Rory to do. This mostly came through every nurse and the doctor asking him how many children he had—to which he would say four, including a batch of twins, which garnered much sympathy, though he tried to change the topic quickly as soon as their ages were asked. Time travel made a lot of details complicated!

And it gnawed at him. He didn’t track her every appearance, after all, but he had a good idea of the times they’d tried for which kids. The twins only had one that he knew of, but Heather had apparently taken several tries, though he’d lost track of which time had actually done it. It was possible that the third pregnancy—the first pregnancy—was somewhere in there where he was unaware, but he felt like that was unlikely. And Megan would only tell him that it was spoilers and refused to answer any questions about how she had gotten pregnant with Xavier to begin with. But she insisted he keep the date.

The procedure itself was scheduled for the Friday following the consultation appointment.

On that Thursday, Megan wasn’t home when he got home from work, though the door was unlocked. A recipe hadn’t even been gotten out, and the chalkboard on the wall she wrote planned meals on had the Thursday selection obviously wiped with a hand, with just “Bamboo Wok” scrawled on it. When he looked in the fridge, he realized the problem: they didn’t have the things for the meal she’d had written there originally.

She had probably gotten unstuck with Xavier.

Thankful that he knew what she would want—he could at least stick it in the fridge for leftovers whenever she popped back—he turned right around, keys in hand, to head back out to his car.

And right outside of the door he almost careened right into someone.

Megan, looking almost lost in an orange shirt and blue jean shorts. No wedding ring. Younger than she’d been in a while. “Whoa!” she said, stepping back as he stopped his momentum.

His fiancée had known. Had planned this, most likely. Of course. “Hey,” he said. “August 2006.”

“September 2005,” she replied. “That means Xavier’s born now, right?”

“Yep, though he’s not around. I think he got unstuck with your future self.” He flipped his keys in his hand, a little anxious to get food on the table.

“And were you ... going somewhere?”

“Getting dinner,” he said. “Wanna ride with me? Or just wait around?”

She looked down at her wrist as though there was a watch there, then back up at him. “I think I’ll just stay here, if you don’t mind. Reduces the chance I run into someone who recognizes me or something like that.” She tilted her head. “And I don’t know how much I’m really feeling it today, anyway, so I might be gone when you get back.”

“Sure,” he said, a little sad. That seemed to happen more often when her younger selves would stop by: like she still wasn’t sure how much she wanted to commit to the relationship. Her older selves always treasured cuddling and sex. “I’ll still pick something up for you.”

“I’m sure it won’t go to waste,” she replied, stepping into the house. “See you soon.”

“Love you,” he said without thinking, giving her a wave as he walked out to his car.

The trip there and back from Bamboo Wok was uneventful.

When he got back to the house, he was a little surprised to find Megan already seated at the dining room table, a weary expression on her face. It brightened a little as he walked in, but there was something there that wasn’t when he left. “I decided to stay,” she said, obviously trying to sound happy.

“Is everything okay?” he replied, setting the bag on the table and starting to distribute the dishes. “You seem ... down.”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” She leaned back and stretched, pushing her breasts out quite nicely. They were smaller and perkier than they would become after getting pregnant with Xavier, much less after getting pregnant with Heather. And they stuck out quite nicely.

Rory realized that real-time Megan had cut him off for the previous couple of days—her period, and she was even less inclined to help him along for whatever reason—and he hadn’t taken care of himself, so he was actually quite interested in her. More than usual. Especially since he didn’t usually get to have sex with her very often when she was pre-kid...

He shook his head. There would be plenty of time for that. He got them drinks and sat down at the table.

“So how was your day?” she asked, her mouth already full of hot braised pork.

“Pretty good. It was like a Friday, since I’m taking off tomorrow,” he explained. “Still too many meetings, though. How about you?”

“Eh, it’s Labor Day weekend where I’m at, so I’m actually a little bummed about missing it. Cassie went home for the weekend, and while I love her to death, it’s nice to have the room to myself, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, chewing then swallowing. “I get that sometimes, when you get unstuck for a while, and another you doesn’t show up in the interim. I just can’t plan for it, like you probably could for your weekend.”

“Sorry,” she said with a shrug. “You have no idea how much I wish I could plan for it, too. But planning would potentially change my behavior, which would—”

“—destroy the space-time continuum. Yes, I know,” he nodded along. “I don’t really mind it, though. Keeps life interesting.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” she replied. “Though speaking of which, is that new Tim Burton movie any good? Uh... Corpse Bride? I’m guessing not, because your future self’s never talked about it, buuuuuuuut...”

“Eh, it’s solid I guess.” He shrugged. “If you want to watch it tonight, I should be able to get it from the local Redbox right quick, though I would have preferred to have done that while I was already out.”

“No, it’s fine.” She shook her head, her mouth full of food. “I just feel so ... inadequate sometimes, when I get unstuck forward to you.”

“How so?”

She swallowed. “It’s just like, you know all these things that I don’t yet, and I’m worried about spoilers. I guess you feel similarly when my future self shows up, but I’m not her, not yet.” Her eyes unfocused as she looked over at the sink. “Sometimes when I hear you talk about me, I wonder how I’ll ever live up to that. How I’ll ever actually be the woman you describe. I have so much of my life in front of me, and it’s like ... I already know how it’s going to play out. No, not all the little details—spoilers, after all—but it’s like, I don’t actually have choices over my life.”

He thought about that for a few moments. “Because to change it would destroy the space-time continuum.”

“Exactly. It’s fixed; I have to make the decisions in time always the same, because deviating from it would be kablooie.”

“I feel the same weight,” he admitted. “Though in a different sense.” He leaned forward, setting down his fork. “I also sometimes wonder, when I hear you talk about my future self. While I think I’ve grown into being a father and soon to be a husband, I also wonder how I’ll be in one year, five years, ten years. You always speak so glowingly about who I’ll become, I always wonder if I’ll live up to it when I get there.”

A frown touched her lips. “You love me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he replied. “Don’t you love me back?”

“Not ... yet,” she said. “I know you’ve said it happens eventually. I’ve seen the future, I’ve met our kids, I’m aware of the evidence. But...” She looked up at him, worry furrowed on her face. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the sex, and I like you a lot. But love? That’s a lot. Love should be a choice, and do I really have a choice? Time has decreed that I shall, so I will; I can’t pick it.”

Rory chewed his last bite of food thoughtfully, finally swallowing. “Did ... something happen while I was gone?”

“No,” she said. Too quickly. She shook her head. “I just ... have been thinking about things. My last time getting unstuck was really far forward and we talked about some philosophy—you get a lot more philosophical when you get older—and it just ... got me thinking. You know?”

“Yeah, I get into those moods sometimes,” he grinned, getting up so he could clean up from their meal. “Anyways, are you wanting something ... quick? Or cuddle for a while? Or something else?”

She laughed. “I mostly just want to read a book for a while. What’s something you can let me borrow for oh ... almost a year?”

The suggestion surprised him. “Plan on grabbing it on your way out?”

“Well, I’ll want to finish it. Don’t worry, I did the right thing with your shoes, right? Well, I technically still have them in my time, but I plan to return them in a couple of months, when it gets really cold.”

He nodded, thinking through that. “But you lived in the dorms at the time. You live here now. At least, from my perspective.”

“I’m sure I have a cache of things like that, just like you have yours,” she said with a smile. “If I didn’t say anything, I don’t even know if you’d notice.”

“Probably not,” he admitted.

She took the opportunity as he finished cleaning up to go select a book from his room, and when he entered the living room, she was curled up in a corner of the couch reading it. The Time Traveler’s Wife, which he’d gotten for her as a present the previous Christmas. Now he knew why she’d reacted so tepidly to receiving it.

“Mind if I play some video games?” he asked.

She shook her head, glancing up at him for a moment, before getting absorbed once again in the novel. With the permission, he sat on the other side of the couch—if she didn’t want to cuddle, that was fine—and started up his Harvest Moon game again.

Over time, she shifted on the couch, eventually ended up leaning against him, which he didn’t mind. But he didn’t push the point, and soon she pulled away and adjusted her position again, like she was having trouble sitting still.

As the day grew later, she got up and wandered into his room, returning moments later with a small piece of paper marking her position in the book. “I don’t suppose you’re getting tired,” she said, a mischievous smile on her face. Whatever had been bothering her seemed to have disappeared with their quiet time. “Or at least up for ... you know. Having a bit of fun.”

He paused the game, looking at her. “You okay with that? You said you weren’t exactly in the mood, but—”

“More now,” she smirked. “I got to one of the sex scenes.”

“Sex scenes?” he asked, his eyes glancing at the book. He hadn’t quite expected that, but he guessed a story about time travel and a married couple...

“Oh, just put the game down and come help me get un-unstuck.” She rolled her eyes, then retreated to his bedroom.

He didn’t need any more encouragement, and saved and quit, turning off the TV with his hand as he made his way back to his room.

Megan was in there, sitting on the bed, hands on her lap. “Love is complicated, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, closing the door. Unnecessary, but still a habit.

“You fell in love with a time traveler, even as twisted as I am.”

“I did.” He stepped forward to her; she stood up, sliding hands in his. “It wasn’t because of the sex. Not... just because of the sex. That didn’t hurt. But it was because of so much more about you.” He pulled their hands up together, elbows bent, almost like they were praying. “And you shouldn’t tell me things that aren’t yet true for you. If you don’t love me, that’s okay.”

“I...” She looked away. “I’m not sure.” She looked back up, stepping closer to him. “Maybe. I’m a tangle in time, Rory.”

“And yet I love you. It took time, yes—you loved me first, from my perspective—but there’s a reason I want to marry you. I would choose it, even if I didn’t already know it would happen. Just because time is fixed and our fates are set doesn’t mean our choices are invalid. Our fate is our choices. We would make them anyway, right? Not because making different choices would destroy time and space; but because they are the choices we make, and that is why the space-time continuum is the way it is.”

She frowned, just a moment, blinking as she looked into his eyes. “I...” she began, then was silent.

He let her be silent.

“That’s what I love about you, Rory,” she said softly. “You’re ... such a good man. I don’t know that I deserve you.”

He laughed. “I don’t deserve a woman as good as you. You are kinder, gentler, and more amazing than I ever guessed when I first met you. Yes, you’re a tangle, but I am more than glad to be tangled in your web.”

That inspired a chuckle from her. “Then I suggest we entangle some more.” She pushed herself up, her lips meeting his as their hands dropped, and they kissed.

As they broke, she stepped back, reaching for the hem of her shirt. He took the hint, and also began to undress.