Chapter 8: February 18. 2006

Over the course of 2005, Megan visited more often, popping in and out, entangling her future life with Rory’s present. Sometimes it would be for a short time; others she would stay a while. Sometimes she was pregnant one of their children; sometimes she was between children. They argued, changed, developed what romance they could given the circumstances. They even got a chance to celebrate Christmas and exchanged gifts.

Tyrone worked on his dissertation, setting himself up to graduate in May 2006. He curtailed some of his research, narrowing down to a specific query in order to graduate—but he had full plans to continue it once he was, in fact, “Doctor Williams”.

Rory and Megan hadn’t yet met in real time, and Rory was beginning to yearn for her presence to be more permanent.

It got cold outside in the middle of February 2006—a cold snap deep into the single digits that brought with it a layer of ice. The university stopped classes on the seventeenth—a Friday—for safety, and Rory and Tyrone hunkered down in their house.

At about one in the afternoon on that Saturday, there was a knock at the door. Rory was in his room, looking at a new website he’d heard about called YouTube, and it took him a few moments to realize what the sound was.

The knocking came again, more insistent.

Megan’s knock.

Rory only had to think about that for a moment before he realized the likely problem, and quickly got to the front door, opening it.

It was, of course, Megan. Wearing extremely short black shorts and a yellow tank top. Barefoot. No wedding ring. Shivering cold, a panicked expression on her face.

And the youngest Rory had ever seen her.

“C-c-c-c-c-c-can I c-c-c-c-c-c-come in?” she asked, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

“Yes!” Rory exclaimed, grabbing her—her skin felt like ice, it was so cold—and pulling her indoors, closing the door lest it get any colder.

“Th-th-th-th-thank y-y-y-y-you,” she said, still shivering.

“Sit on the couch,” Rory commanded. He was curious about the details, but needed her to warm up first. “I’ll get a blanket and some hot chocolate.”

She nodded, looking around the living room, obviously disoriented. But she found the couch as Rory went to the linen closet and pulled out the biggest, fluffiest blanket they had. Tyrone opened his door and stuck his head out. “Was that—?”

“Megan out in the cold, yes,” Rory said. “I’ll take care of her; do you mind turning the heat up a little?”

Tyrone looked concerned, but nodded. “Yeah.”

Rory returned to the living room, where Megan had curled herself up into a ball on the couch. He covered her in the blanket and headed to the kitchen to make her a cup of instant hot chocolate—very glad a Megan who had visited in November had requested that over dinner.

Once that was done, he brought it out to her, where she was huddled up on the couch wrapped up in the blanket, her legs crossed on the couch, a stunned expression on her face.

Rory handed her the steaming mug. “Th ... thank you,” she said softly, cradling it in her hands. Her lips were still blue.

“February 2006,” he said, sitting on the couch next to her.

She blinked a few times, then turned to look at him. “Right. Uh. July 2005.”

That caused Rory to pause. “That’s ... you’re the first who’s popped forward to me, I think. Every other time, you’ve popped back.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

“But you probably were in the middle of that heat wave, right?” She nodded, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, and he continued. “And we’re in the middle of a cold snap.”

She nodded. “I g-g-g-g-g-g-gathered.” Color was slowly starting to return to her face.

“How long were you outside?” he asked.

Another sip, her eyes still staring out into space. He waited patiently, knowing that she was mostly concerned with warming up. He thought about putting an arm around her, but he really didn’t know what her perspective on that would be. Since she was unstuck, he figured this didn’t count as meeting in real time, and while she’d told him she knew they were together—and knew to come to his house—shortly after becoming unstuck, he really had no idea how to process that. What was her perspective on their relationship at this point in her life?

“I was a few blocks away,” she said finally, her voice still muted, her gaze still into space. “Going for a walk. I had on flip-flops but...” She shook her head, and finally looked over at him “You look so young!”

“I think I’m probably the youngest you’ve seen me when being unstuck.”

She nodded. “Anyways, I knew immediately that I’d gotten unstuck—the sudden shift in weather will do that.” A small smirk appeared on her face, and she took another sip, starting to unfold. Her face sobered. “And obviously I know I can come here when I do get unstuck, even if I have no idea what the date is.” She shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t actually come here; it’s not always worth the hassle, depending where and when I am.”

He nodded, thinking. “But coming here from a few blocks away in this cold? You couldn’t ... shelter anywhere along the way?” As soon as he said it, he knew how stupid it sounded. “Right, everything’s closed.”

Another nod. “Mmhmm. And who else would let a strange college girl in summer clothes in?”

“Probably anyone.”

“But it woud invite attention and questions that I don’t want,” she countered. “So here I am, hearty and hale and freezing my ass off.”

“Hopefully not the last one,” Rory said with a laugh. “It’s a very nice ass.” She smiled at him, and he wondered, “So what about when it’s not freezing where do you go if not here?”

“Stores and such are open,” she pointed out. “Or most of the time, I’m on campus, and just hide out in a dorm or something.” She tipped the mug and downed the last of her hot chocolate, then raised it in his direction. “Do you mind if I ask for more?”

“Sure thing,” he said, taking the mug from her and going to fix another cup, contemplating what to discuss with her. Once it was done, he came back out and handed it to her. “Here you go. So... 2005? I’m not really sure what the state of anything around you is. How much you know about anything, or what you think about things, like us.” He felt a pang of sympathy for whenever she would pop in to him in the past.

She was clearly feeling significantly warmer, and was no longer huddled in a small ball, but instead turned and cupped the mug on her lap, sitting to face him, but maintaining some distance still. “I feel the same about you whenever I get unstuck, but especially now, since you’re so ... young. Obviously, we both know the basics, right? Accident, unstuck, orgasms, eventually married with kids.” He nodded, and she continued. “But this is before we meet in real time, and so there’s a lot of context I just don’t have. You never gave me that much information about this time period.”

“There might not be much more than the basics, to be honest,” he replied. “Sure, things I’ve gleaned here and there from your future self, but it’s all a fractured mess.”

She nodded. “Well, from my perspective, I’ve been doing this for quite a few months now, so I’m no stranger to it. And when I get unstuck to farther in the future—after I’ve moved in here, especially—we get to spend a lot of time together. It’s fun—and yes, we’ve had plenty of sex, though I really want to have post-sex cuddles sometime—but you’re coy about a lot of things. Spoilers and all.”

“If it’s any consolation, your future self is also extremely coy.”

Another smirk. “Good for me. And I just have so many ... simple questions. Like, take this house; obviously you haven’t lived here forever, right?”

He nodded, thinking back to when he had bought it. “I got it summer of 2003. I graduated college in 2002, for the record, and stayed in an apartment for a year. This place hit the market super cheap right when I was getting out of that lease, and I guess I was really lucky with timing. And then Tyrone was also looking for a place after some issues with a landlord, so it just kind of worked out.”

“That’s the straightest answer to that question you’ve ever given me,” she commented. “But I think that’s part of what happens when you get older. First, I’ve told you that you don’t tell me about it again, so you don’t because you don’t want to blow up the space-time continuum. And second, you start to see how all the little things are connected, and realize the actual implications of my knowing details at the wrong time.” She chuckled. “Or third, you just don’t remember them, and it’s easier to play coy than to admit it.”

He laughed. “Thank you for letting me know that strategy, so that I can use it against you someday.”

“We do that a lot,” she replied with a laugh. “So, I take it you’re pre-vasectomy, since that’s something I need to make sure of, apparently.”

“Correct,” he said, nodding.

“Good to know. But I guess my future self has been around enough that you’re also getting used to this?”

“Yeah. You showed up on my doorstep about two years ago—”

“—Wait, before the Accident?—”

“—Yes, though your coming by is significantly more frequent since that happened—”

“—Weird—”

“—and you explained everything to me then. Like I said, you’ve been popping in a fair amount.”

She nodded. “And then there was the time in the store.”

Wait a moment—how did she connect that? “That was before the Accident, though. And it seemed as though you recognized me?”

“I—” she started, then paused, her eyes going wild. “Fuck. Forget I said that.” She rolled her eyes up into her skull. “Okay, so this is the youngest you’ve encountered me, right? With me being unstuck?”

“Yes.”

“And this is the earliest you that I’ve gotten unstuck to. Obviously, I’ve gotten unstuck in the past—uh, my past, which I guess is your past? Whatever, same diff—but I either went far enough into the future that I was comfortable coming here—because it’s after we actually meet in real time.”

“But you always want to know the date when you show up?”

Her eyes came down and focused on him. “I can make broad guesses based on some stores, buildings, that sort of thing. That can give me enough of a clue for whether or not we’ve met in real time, and if I’m pretty sure we haven’t, I stay away. Just with this cold ... well, I needed to go somewhere.”

He nodded, considering that. “I’m glad you came here to get warmed up.”

A soft smile lit her face. “If I had been on campus or something, I probably would have tried to hide in a dorm. That’s what I’ve done in the past—hide in one of the bathrooms and get myself off and wait to pop back.”

He wondered why she wouldn’t seek him out more, but then realized that they hadn’t actually met in real time, and so it would be very confusing if she did. “Are you able to actually tell when you’ve gotten unstuck?”

“It’s ... hard to describe. Sometimes I don’t and it’s a surprise. But usually, there’s this feeling of being disoriented for just a moment, especially if the weather or time of day changes significantly. Like today—last year?—I was out walking, and it was nice and warm, and then it just sort of... shifted. Like reality getting out of focus for a moment. Then it was freezing cold, and I panicked.”

“You know, I think I learn something new from you almost every time you pop in,” he said with a laugh, digesting that information.

“Happy to be of service,” she said, laughing with him, then sobered up. “That’s probably the sort of sex joke you like riffing on, isn’t it? You’re going to want me to service you or something?”

“I...” Rory began, then took a moment to think through his word choice. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. If you’d rather just hole up in my bedroom and take care of yourself, that’s perfectly fine.”