Archive of Our Own

London, England | 1963 | 10:23 PM

Old Man Carrow

The bell above the bookstore’s entrance chimed as it opened. The familiar smell of old books and firewood hit Amelia like the first day of Spring, and she closed her eyes briefly, taking it in. She stepped through the door, and the bell rang once more when it closed behind her. 

The bookstore was quaint, and messy in its own charming way. Novels and newspapers piled on top of each other along tables and short shelves at the front. A maze of bookcases peppered the rest of the shop, each filled to the brim with stories and pictures she could spend a lifetime or two reading.

She heard the fireplace crackle at the back of the shop, and an old man reclined on a worn armchair, his nose buried in a book.

She smiled, straightened her coat, and made her way over.

“Ahh.., ” she sighed, and stretched wide before plopping into the twin armchair adjacent from him. “You wouldn’t believe the day I had, Carrow.”

She stuck her hands out towards the fire. The memory of the crisp London air faded away as her body warmed into a comfortable haze.

James Carrow didn’t look up from the pages before him, but Amelia could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. His wrinkles deepened when a small smile played at his lips. She waited for him to ask her: Where have you been Watson? Tell me, what have you seen?

Carrow chuckled lightly, then turned a page. “A day for me, maybe. But for you, how long has it been, Watson?”

Amelia sank deeper into the chair. And—man— did it feel good to relax.

The time-traveler pretended to think for a moment, just for the theatrics, of course. She knew exactly how long she’d been away. 

“Eight months and some change.”

Carrow whistled, “That’s a long time for a trip.”

Amelia agreed with a hum. 

“And the Romans are some seriously shitty people. I was there for five whole minutes before a slummer ripped the pocket watch off me.” She clenched her fist in emphasis.

Amelia watched Carrow’s thin fingers dog-ear his page, then he set the book down in his lap. The girl couldn’t help the grin on her face. The last time Amelia had seen the old man, he was leaned over his heavy desk, preserving some book about Ancient Roman Innovation.

“The Romans were so inventive, don’t you think? It’s fascinating. Wish I could have seen some of it for myself.” He’d said. It was merely a comment to fill the air. But it had been days since Amelia jumped through the timeline. She was antsy, and quite honestly uncomfortable with not having anything to do. 

Her friend had wished he experienced something. She had the means to experience it. It was simple math, really.

“Watson.” He’d knowingly continued. “I could practically hear the bell fire off in your head. I’m not saying-“

“Too late, I’ll be back before you know it!” And Amelia was gone. For only a day, technically .

So now he’s hooked, she thought.

Amelia spent the better part of the next hour recounting her months of travel. 

Carrow listened intently, as he always did, but he didn’t make any comments or inquire for more detail like she was used to. She figured his hearing was leaving him. Hah, oldie.

“And then I waved goodbye to Cyris. It was hard, not gonna lie. I could tell he wanted to ask me to stay but I had to be back.” Amelia stated. She feigned interest in her sleeve, picking lint off it.

“Why?”

“I dunno, maybe he fell in love with me.” She joked.

“No, I mean, why did you need to come back?”

Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed and she laughed.

“Geez, sorry Carrow. I’ll be sure to come during business hours next time.”

But her laugh was short-lived. Carrow’s face was stern, like a father’s. Amelia shifted in her chair, subconsciously sitting up straighter.

Carrow sighed, and rubbed at the stubble on his chin.

“Do you think that…,” Carrow paused, thinking over his next words carefully. “The past few years that I’ve known you, Watson, have been some of the most interesting moments of my life.”

A pit grew in Amelia’s stomach. Something bad was coming.

“Truly, you are like family to me. And I love having you here, but I can’t help but feel as if you are using me—or this place, this time,” he gestures around them, “as a distraction.” Concern etched into his wrinkles.

“A distraction.” She repeated. Her hand instinctively went into her pocket, and her finger traced lightly across her pocket-watch. She could rewind time, maybe, and get herself out of this conversation.

“You have given me far better stories than any other author could tell. My imagination has never run more wild, before you. You’ve allowed me to live hundreds of lifetimes. But I am old, Watson. Time isn’t as forgiving with me as it is with you.”

Amelia’s eyes flicked over to the fire, burning as they dried. 

“You should have someone to experience these times with. Someone that can… grow with you. You keep jumping around the timeline, and for what? To come back to an old man’s bookshop and talk yourself into exhaustion?” Carrow laughed lightly. Amelia didn’t.

“So what are you saying?”

“Enjoy life, for once, why don’t you. Make your own moments instead of reliving them. I would have loved to hear about, oh, I don’t know…a real friend. Or a lover. Or a new hobby you picked up.”

“And then what,” Amelia chewed her lip. “Watch everyone I grow to love, die off? Spend the rest of eternity replaying the same 60 years over and over?”

Carrow sighed, and turned the book over in his hands. He leaned forward, and extended it out to Amelia. The detective eyed it warily, but accepted it nonetheless.

“Maybe it’ll be worth it, Watson.”

Amelia shook her head, confused. This was the one place in a long time she felt she could attach herself to.

The time-traveler didn’t look at the man. She had no desire to hear what he had to say. Her fingers toyed with the gears on her watch, and set course for the next travel. But she couldn’t bring herself to press it just yet. A small part of her hoped that Carrow would take it back. 

“I promise you, this is for your own good.” Carrow explained. He paused.

“You shouldn’t…you can’t come back here, Watson.” Carrow’s eyes lowered to his lap. “You are meant for much greater things than sitting in my armchair. Believe me when I say this.” 

Carrow raised his eyes. The chair before him was empty, all signs of the detective long gone. Carrow stared for a second, then leaned back. He gave a long sigh and closed his eyes, with only the crackle of the fire and its heat to keep him company. 

San Diego, California | 2017 | A.T.P (Amelia Time Passed): 5 Years

Shark Bait

It was a hot, sunny day in San Diego. Still, light clouds rolled in from the Pacific and cast a forgiving shadow over her apartment. Amelia laid upside-down on her couch, her eyes rereading the same few pages of her book for nearly the hundredth time. 

She just needed to be sure she had all the evidence straight.

So, yeah, maybe it had taken her a few years to finally crack open the book James Carrow lent her all that time ago. But, he did practically call her a no-friend having loser and tell her to never set foot in his shop again.

…Okay, maybe it wasn’t like that, but it took Amelia a little while to not take it too personally. And she had been bored one day, and the book was right there, and one sad night led to another and…

The best way Amelia could explain the book, was that it seemed to be written by a deranged explorer. Think, Indiana Jones if he was on hooked on low-grade cocaine.

‘Myths and Monsters - Volume VI.’ Written and illustrated in 1849.

It claimed to be research on mythological creatures an explorer, Makoto Ito, had been interested in. It was handwritten, with surprisingly good illustrations every once in a while. At first, Amelia was impressed at the length the author went to to make the story believable. But the more and more she read, the more she felt like Makoto was…telling the truth? She felt crazy for thinking that any of the beings mentioned in the book could exist in her timeline but…

But then she found herself in San Diego, close to the beaches Makoto described. She felt the coastal breeze in her hair and smelled the sea and she knew, at least, that Makoto had really been there. 

She felt a tingle in her brain. A nagging pull. A detective’s intuition. Every word on a page, every line in an illustration tugged at her. Maybe that’s why she began to set up her life here, mirroring Makoto. Maybe it gave her purpose—at least for a little while—to verify these findings for herself. 

After the first read through, she spent the week furious at James Carrow. 

Why had he given her the book? Who was Makoto Ito? Why in God’s name would he write SIX volumes of this shit?

And so she read the book again.

‘Chīsana Same. A ferocious thing. It had teeth as sharp as knives, nails that would puncture your skin like arrows. Fast and athletic, with intelligence that could only come from more years you or I would ever experience. It spoke to me, with a voice as sweet as sugarcane. And it stood up to only my shoulder, yet its strength was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. I hardly escaped with my life…’

Carrow had bookmarked this page, before he gave it to her. The crease was still there, the only marker-fold in the entire book.

A single sentence stood out to her: ‘ Fast and athletic, with intelligence that could only come from more years you or I would ever experience. ’ 

She had read the line over and over. She dreamed about it, obsessed over it. Maybe Makoto was being fancy with his words, but the possibility that there could exist a being that lived longer than “normal.” How could the detective let that go?

Chīsana Same, he’d called it. Tiny shark. It was the only creature in the entire volume that had stood out to Makoto for being wiser beyond its years. And the bookmark…

Amelia needed to investigate. So she followed Makoto’s steps leading to the encounter, which was apparently here, by the shores of San Diego.

That was seven months ago, and only last week did she finally bring herself to the beach. 

Honestly, Amelia didn’t know what she expected. Maybe a year long hunt: tracking faint clues, interrogating witnesses, cornering Chīsana Same. Maybe not finding anything at all. What she didn’t expect, was to arrive at the boardwalk and immediately find a girl in a vibrant blue shark hoodie, with shark hair-ties, a shark tail, and razor teeth sitting on a beach towel and soaking up the California sun.

And no one around her batted an eye. Chīsana Same was so evidently otherworldly, so confidently herself, that everyone around seemed to reject the idea that she was anything suspicious at all. Amelia assumed it was like seeing Batman at a Comic-Con, or something. Hiding in plain sight. It was genius. She had the feeling it was unintentional, but genius nonetheless.

Then Amelia realized the issue. Her biggest problem. The ultimate flaw. Something that never crossed her mind until the moment she saw her.

She didn’t know how to make friends.

So Amelia went home, but went back the next day. And the next, and the next. She told herself she was investigating. That she was analyzing Chīsana Same’s routine. In doing so Amelia found that the girl ate an alarmingly large amount of fish chips every afternoon, bartered with the fishermen on the pier (sometimes she would leave with fish, sometimes she wouldn’t), and then spent the rest of her day sunbathing until the evening where she slunk back into the ocean like no one was watching. And nobody was, except Amelia of course.

She popped up from the couch and brushed the crumbs off her shirt. 

“Ahem,” She cleared her throat, “Hi, how are you?” She practiced. 

No, too fast.

“Hi, how are you? Hey, how are you? How are you? A-are you? Ugh.” She threw the book on the coffee table. “It’s really not that hard, Ame. Just say, hi, how are you?”

Then a small woof from the other side of the couch. Her dog, Bubba, laid sleepily on his paws. He looked annoyed, like Amelia was being loud and ruined his slumber. 

“Hi Bubba, how are you?” And Bubba gave a forgiving ruff before turning himself around on the couch. Amelia grinned. See, now that was a good one!

She would go to the beach today, and she would talk to the shark girl. She would. She would.  

The confidence really lasted up until her feet hit the sand. She clutched her beach towel like it was her lifeline. Chīsana Same was there, as usual. She sat on the sand, her hand deep in a bag of fish chips as she people watched. Her shark tail—shark fin?—swayed contentedly side-to-side.

Amelia made her way over and placed her towel down in what she calculated to be a respectable amount of space between her and the girl. Chīsana Same paused, her attention now on Amelia.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Okay. Amelia sat, her back ramrod straight, and stared ahead. Okay, Ame. Don’t think about it too much. Be cool.

Amelia turned in what she hoped was natural. Shark Girl still chewed her chips happily, and her eyes seemed to brighten when Amelia looked at her. She had one of those gentle, and familiar type faces. Pretty.

Here it goes. Amelia cleared her throat and said:

“Chīsana Same,” For some reason, Amelia closed her eyes and placed her hand solemnly over her heart. “My name is Amelia Watson and I’ve followed in Makoto Ito’s footsteps to find you. I know you’ve lived many years, so I feel that your long lifespan and my time-traveling capabilities would make us great companions.”

Amelia’s eyes flew open.

What the fuck was that?!

The Shark Girl didn’t reply. Only the sound of crunchy chips permeated Amelia’s ears and the blonde suddenly felt deathly close to a heat-stroke. 

“Um, what?” The Shark Girl gave a genuine laugh around the food in her mouth.

“Er—I meant.” Amelia sighed, “I’ll start over.”

“Hi, how are you?” And she stuck out her hand.

The Shark Girl took it, with crumbs and all, “Hi Amelia Watson, I’m good. Are you?”

“No, I think I just embarrassed myself.”

“Yeah. But it was funny.”

“Okay. That’s good. Right? Don’t answer that.”

The Shark Girl gave a toothy grin. She offered Amelia a fish chip, and the girl took it. “You’re weird, I like you.” 

The chip was way more fish than Amelia expected. She almost gagged. 

“I didn’t understand half of what you said just then, but you can call me Gura. Last name, Gawr. Gawr, comma, Gura—if you will.” Chīsana Sa— Gura said.

“Gawr, comma, Gura.” Amelia laughed. The tension in her shoulders dissipated slowly. She could breathe normally again. Good. Next course of action was to repress whatever the hell that was moments ago. “Okay.”

Amelia was glad to find that being friends got easier with time. Sorta. She visited the beach almost everyday now, and Gura seemed more than happy to spend time with her. But there came a moment when Amelia had to admit that the beach was just not for her. She’d recovered from her third sunburn when she decided it was time for a change of scenery. You might say that this problem could’ve easily been solved with sunscreen, but no. Sunscreen went for $11.99 at the local market and Amelia knew that was just way too much for some special lotion. So she invited Gura over.

A quick google search and she found that a bowl of popcorn, and some pajamas were a staple in any standard movie night. That was easy. And she paced around the living room with Bubba at her heels as she waited for Gura to arrive.

“Bing bong, bing bong! ” Gura echoed, and several knocks followed just as the clock hit seven. Amelia opened the door. Wait shit, was that too fast? 

“Welcome!” Amelia said, and Gura stepped into the living room.

“Woah,” Gura turned oddly, her hands clasped behind her back. “Nice place! Buuut, it could look nicer.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow, and laughed. “Ah, okay.” 

Damn. Look up interior decorating later, got it.

“Ta-da!” Gura held out a bouquet of flowers. “Now it’s perfect!”

“Oh! ” Amelia accepted them gratefully. “Thanks, Gura. Wow, you didn’t have to.”

Amelia felt slightly panicked. Were friends supposed to give each other flowers? She didn’t buy flowers. Fuck. Next time, buy flowers. 

While Amelia let herself be ravaged by her inner demons, Gura and Bubba discovered each other. Gura squealed, beyond ecstatic to play with the dog. Bubba himself was happy to find another victim to coerce into giving him pets and treats. 

“I, um, got us popcorn. And pajamas!” Amelia went into the kitchen, pouring out a pitcher as she tried her best to get a makeshift vase going for the flowers. She motioned to the pajamas on the table. “Bedroom’s on the left, feel free to change.”

Gura took the clothes, and excused herself. Amelia thought it was cute as the shark scurried off into the hall. Tiny shark. Makoto wasn’t lying. Amelia took that time to set up the movie, and when Bubba curled up next to her on the couch she scolded him.

“No, Bubba. We have a guest.” She placed him gently back onto the floor. He whined. “No. You know, most dogs aren’t even allowed to get on the couch? Mhm, it’s true.”

He licked her hand.

“Nah, s’not gonna work this time.” Still, she rubbed his head.

Gura jumped back into the room, now adorned in Amelia’s biggest hoodie and bluest sleep-shorts. The girl raised her arms wide, showing off the outfit.

“This is AMA-zing!” Gura said. “Usually hoodies like this irritate my gills but the inside of this is so soft. ” The shark hugged herself, and enjoyed how the cotton felt against her skin.

Amelia nodded, glad she was comfortable.

“You have gills?”

“Well, yeah. I’m a shark.” Gura bared her teeth and ‘raaah ’d to make a point. Amelia hummed.

“Riiight, right. How could I forget.”

Amelia expected a brief explanation on the gills, or none at all. What she didn’t expect was for Gura to lift the hem of the hoodie up to her ribcage and show them herself.

“See? Helps me breathe underwater an’ all that. Lame you land-leggers don’t get any.”

The gills didn’t surprise her. No, really, they didn’t. They were merely small slits alongside Gura’s ribcage. They didn’t stick out much, and looked quite natural. What did get her was the sudden amount of skin now exposed. Smooth, fair planes, drawn over firm muscle underneath. Wow, swimmers were fit. She should go swimming. And watch the Olympics more often.

She didn’t dwell on why she felt embarrassed and averted her eyes, she just knew her face was pink and warm. She wouldn’t be surprised if all the blood in her body rerouted and started pouring out of her nose. But her sunburn ended days ago and the weather was cool tonight, so she was really running out of excuses. 

The look didn’t pass Gura by either, and the shark pulled down the material.

“Oh, sorry.” Her fingers played at the hem. “Was that weird? That was weird. I don’t know what gill etiquette is when it comes to humans. It’s usually fine in Atlantis, by the way. We see each other’s gills all the time—but not like in a weird way!”

Gura was rambling, her own cheeks tinting as she laughed nervously. It was a perfect time for the sun to explode and swallow them up, if it wanted. Seriously, Amelia was giving permission. And there it was again, the awkwardness that followed Amelia around like a really shitty shadow. It reminded her of when she was a child and Auntie Watson urged her to go up to kids on the playground and start a conversation. Back then Amelia would stutter and jumble her words together often, and nothing was worse than a group of kids staring at you like you had seven fingers. Oh no, now she was embarrassed about that too.

“No, no, no.” Amelia waved her hand. She blew out some air, hoping it would make the flames on her cheeks go away. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Here, I’ll show you this.”

The shark gingerly made her way over and sat beside the girl, watching intently as Amelia leaned over to the couch side table. She grabbed her pocket watch, and dangled it between them.

“It’s my time-travel watch.” Amelia said and puffed out her chest, feeling cooler than cool.

“Ohh,” Gura cocked her head. It was worn and scuffed and the gold needed a polishing, but it ticked with an odd cadence and a propitious aura radiated from it. “That time-traveler stuff wasn’t a joke?”

Amelia deflated. “You thought that was a joke?”

“I dunno! You said a lot of things that one time, and then like, never mentioned them again.”

Amelia groaned, and covered her eyes. She didn’t need to be reminded.

“Can you use it?”

“Yeah, of course-“ Amelia started to turn the knob when a chill hit her. The last time she travelled was years ago, after Carrow had lectured her. It had been long, and thinking of Carrow and his criticisms sent her mind down a path of painful reflection.

“…Or, actually, we can just watch the movie. I’ve been keeping us.” Gura interrupted, feeling something was amiss. Amelia nodded thankfully, tucking the watch away deep into the drawer.

The movie was good, and Gura was even better company. Despite the rough beginning, they settled into each other’s presence comfortably. Gura’s laugh was sweet, and as petite as she was she still managed to fill her apartment with an energy Amelia didn’t realize was missing until now.

A couple hours later, when Amelia was loading up another movie, Gura asked her if she slept.

Amelia shrugged. “Not really. I kinda doze off randomly and then its day-time.”

Gura nodded.

“Why? You sleepy, old shark?”

Gura scoffed. “What, heck no! I was just checking. ‘Cause humans, ya know, need sleep more than sharks.”

“Mhm.” In the short time that it took Amelia to get up and change the disc, Bubba had weaseled his way into Gura’s lap. She sighed when she plopped onto the couch, giving him a Look.

“Bubba…” His tail wagged expectantly, and Gura’s arms came to wrap around him.

“Nooo, please don’t kick him off. Please.” Gura pouted dramatically, her own tail matching Bubba’s rhythm. The shark smushed her face against Bubba’s. Amelia stared at them, and while she could put up a good fight against one pair of puppy eyes, she couldn’t resist two. Gura took Amelia leaning back into the couch as a victory and she squealed, her and Bubba celebrating with several scritches and head pats. Connivers, those two.

Within several minutes Gura fell asleep. Her head tilted, and leaned lightly against Amelia’s shoulder. Bubba followed suit, although that was unsurprising. The blue light of the television illuminated the gentle features of Gura’s face, and the sharp points of her teeth glinted from where it peeked from between her lips. She looked peaceful, and the image of her curled up on the couch with Bubba in her lap just felt…right. 

Amelia wondered if sleep would always come this easy.

“Oh, geez. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night.” Gura said, sitting at the kitchen bar behind where Amelia cooked breakfast on the stove.

Amelia made a noise of contentment. “How do you like your eggs?”

“You could give it to me raw, I don’t mind.” She said it so breezily, the blonde almost didn’t register it.

Amelia froze and then burst out laughing. “Umm.”

She pointed her spatula at the shark. She was going to warn her that the sentence didn’t always mean what she thought it meant, but then she saw the smug look on the shark’s face and she thought better of giving her the satisfaction.

“Okay, raw eggs coming up.”

Gura chuckled. “Just cook them the same as yours.”

Sunlight filtered in through the window of her apartment as it always did, sending warm, yellow rays across the kitchen and living room. Bubba laid belly up in one of the beams, snoring away as if hadn’t spent the last 30 minutes eating egg droplets from the kitchen. It was an otherwise normal day, but with Gura it felt different. Better. The two girls ate together in an easy silence. Distantly, Amelia’s heart lamented at the thought that Gura had to go soon.

“I had a lot of fun.” Gura whispered, moving the eggs around on her plate. It was a normal confession, but Amelia’s ears tinged anyway. “Ya know, I don’t have a lot of friends. Not anymore, anyway. So this was really, really, nice, Watson.”

Amelia chewed her food thoughtfully. It never occurred to her that Gura wouldn’t have friends either. She was so great, so natural, that she figured she could befriend even the devil.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun too.” Her voice wavered slightly. “You could, you know, always come over anytime. And I liked that you…” Oh, no. She didn’t mean to voice that much of her thoughts. But she’d already started the sentence and Gura was looking at her expectantly, so.

“You could, um, sleep over too. Anytime. It was fun. Plus, Bubba would miss you.” She quickly stuffed her mouth again. 

Gura’s eyes twinkled and she gave a mirroring bite.

By far, the best morning Amelia’s ever had.

San Diego, California | 2018 | A.T.P (Amelia Time Passed): Some Change

Revelations

Six months passed since Amelia met Gura. Since then, Gura had practically become her roommate. She was over nearly everyday, and if not, she at least turned in there for the night. It. Was. Perfect.

“You sure it’s okay I stay here? I don’t have any money, really.”

“I’m not surprised.” Which earned her a hard shoulder punch from Gura.

But in Gura’s defense, she always brought food home. And cooked. Oh man, did you know Gura was an amazing cook?

And yes, Amelia called it home now. How could she not, when every night she got to snuggle up on the couch with her two favorite beings in the entire world?

Oh, right. Her feelings did get more intense in that regard. She couldn’t deny that there was something growing inside her heart. Something she’d ignored her entire life, and was still ignoring now. Mostly. Except from inside her brain where Amelia #2 (her subconscious) loved to torture her with feelings and critical thinking.

Amelia laid there, in the bed, arms folded behind her head, doing that. Doing the thinking thing. She felt happy, over the moon. She also felt antsy and restless. She hadn’t travelled, not even just through time, but in general. She never stayed in a place this long. Been this stagnant. Then the bad part came, the part where she longed for more. Right now, she wished she had someone else, someone to tell all the great things the past few months brought and share that happiness with. That growth with. She felt selfish. What, one friend isn’t enough, now you want two?

The worst part is she knew who that friend was. And he was back in the 1960s, probably agonizing over a dumb book or collapsed on the floor, cursing the Gods that Life Alert wasn’t invented yet. She missed him. And she hated that Amelia #2 shoved that fact in her face. But Carrow had been clear, Amelia couldn’t come back. 

“Oi, you’re thinking so hard even my own head is hurting.”

Gura turned over beside her, her arm slinging across the blonde’s waist, trying to coax her to sleep. She pulled herself in close, and snuggled just under Amelia’s chin. Gura smelled like ocean spray and the tacos they had for dinner that night. And a little like Bubba. Who was sound asleep at the end of the bed, by the way, and did not care that Amelia was having an inner crisis. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Sorry.”

“Share it with the class?”

Amelia hummed, mulling it over in her head. She didn’t know where to begin, and she honestly wasn’t into the idea of having a “I Feel Like a Loser,” talk when the coolest, cutest girl she’d ever met was cuddling her right now. Okay? She had some game.

“Do you remember Makoto Ito?” She asked, instead.

“Hm.” Gura mumbled. She rubbed her nose sleepily into Amelia’s shirt, just below her collarbone. The blonde’s stomach fluttered, and her face burned in a way she could only pray looked endearing. She moved one arm down, wrapping it loosely around Gura’s back. They cuddled like this. Sometimes. Maybe all the time. And both were aware that this thing between them was morphing into something Different. Something people with more friend-experience might say wasn’t so friend-like. Well, it was a good thing they didn’t have that.

What they did have, though, was time. All the time. Forever, or something like that, to discuss it. To acknowledge it when they needed to. But now? They were just enjoying. Feeling . Amelia was thankful it could be that way, at least for the moment.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Back in the 1800s.” Amelia tried.

Gura chuckled at that. “Maybe you remember that far, Traveller, but I don’t.” She gave it a thought. “Oddly enough I was hanging around the Pacific that time. Gold Rush.”

“Gold rush? ” Amelia laughed heartily. “And look at you now, broke.”

She yelped when Gura pinched her side.

“Before I met you, I was given this book. ‘Myths and Monsters ’ written by that guy, Makoto. He wrote about you.”

Gura lifted her head at that, propping up on an elbow. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes with her other hand. Amelia missed the warmth, but having Gura’s eyes on her was another blessing she wouldn’t complain about.

“I felt like I had to find you. It gave me purpose, for awhile. A place to settle, and something to investigate. Distract myself with, at a time where everything felt so unsure.” Amelia admitted, feeling sheepish. “That’s why I got Bubba, too. And he helped a lot. But—I’m just glad, you know, that you really exist. Thankful that we could be…”

She didn’t finish, opting to twirl a strand of Gura’s hair around a finger instead.

“Ah.” Gura smiled, all the sentiment and unsaid feelings returned in ocean irises. “Your ears look so cute when they get all red.”

Amelia flushed, and slapped a hand over her ear. 

“Stooop. ” She groaned. This was all Amelia #2’s fault.

“But you said there’s a book…” Gura continued.

“Mhm.”

“About mythical creatures.”

“Yup.”

“And it had me in it.” Amelia nods. “And I’m right here.”

“Out with it already, woman!”

“So that means there’s a likely chance that the other creatures exist too!”

“Er—“ Amelia didn’t think much further after finding Gura. She had accomplished her goal, after all. “Guess you’re right.”

“Well,” Gura placed a hand excitedly on Amelia’s arm and squeezed. “Let’s go look for the others!”

“What?”

“Think about it. It seems like you’re in this— what’s the word? —rut. I know how it feels to be stuck in one place for too long. Before meeting me you moved around a lot. Investigated things. Sleuthed about.” She made scuttling noises. “We can still do that!”

“Huh.” Amelia contemplated it. “Are you serious?”

“Shark’s honor.”

A moment frozen in time, then cheshire smiles spread across both their faces.

Amelia stared at herself in the mirror. Her coat was still in good shape, though it adorned the type of wear you’d see on your mom’s favorite Sunday dress. She adjusted her tie, and noticed the ribbon on her cap was flatter, now, but her monocle hair-clip still sparkled brightly. She clipped the pocket-watch to a matching chain that looped around her skirt. It’s face glinted back at her, ticking with a rhythm that she could almost hear go: ’Welcome back, Watson.’

She sucked in a deep breath, and headed out to the car.

Gura sat on the hood, legs crossed, one hand holding the book open and the other scratching under Bubba’s chin.

“Oh geez, why’d you put the dog on the car?”

“Hey, hey. He likes to feel tall!” Gura called back. She peeled her eyes away from the book to look at Amelia. Gura’s eyes widened at her attire.

“Aht.” Amelia held up a finger. “Please, if it’s something mean just keep it to yourself this time.” Amelia personally liked her get-up, and if Gura made the slightest comment she just knew no amount of comebacks would save her ego.

“I- I was gonna say you look gorgeous.” Gura laughed. Amelia nodded.

“Suuure. Right answer, though.” She blushed regardless.

“I’m serious.” Gura put the book down and trotted over. She reached into her side bag and pulled out a polaroid camera, snapping a picture. Amelia blinked.

“Wait, I wasn’t ready.”

Gura shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s just for me, anyway.” 

Amelia seared the soft rose that colored Gura’s cheeks into her brain. An idea swirled in her mind, and Amelia #2 didn’t immediately reject it either.

“Can we take a picture?” Amelia asked, quieter than she would’ve liked. Gura perked up.

“Y-yes! Duh.” 

They moved next to each other, and Amelia slung an arm around Gura’s shoulders as the shorter girl maneuvered the camera around.

“Take two.” Amelia said. Gura nodded, an easy, jagged smile taking over.

“Say, ‘shaaaaark.’” Two flashes of lights later and they leaned over the hood of the car, waiting for the photos to develop.

Amelia picked one up.

“Did it come out okay?”

The California sky was clear and blue behind them, and the two girls looked happy. Gura’s fingers peeked out from behind Amelia’s head, creating bunny ears. She could tell that was the cause of the extra glint in her eyes.

Amelia grinned. “More than okay, Gura.” And Gura handed her a pen so they could write on the backs of them.

She turned to Gura after. The girl clutched the strap of her bag in one hand and the book in the other, looking more than ready to take on the world. She was funny. She was beautiful. She was kind. And she was with her—indubitably so. That realization was overwhelming.

The only thing Amelia could do to express it was to pull Gura in by the strings of her hoodie. Gura made a noise; Half-surprise, half-excitement. Then Amelia kissed her, slowly, fully, their lips molding against each other innately. Her heart pounded and her fingers trembled but she had never been so sure about anything before. Gura’s lips were soft, and tasted exactly like how Amelia imagined, but better, but real. Like the candy in her cabinets and salt from the sea.

Gura fell into the kiss easily, because of course, she could fit anywhere. And in Amelia’s arms she didn’t need to try or think, it would just always turn out that way.

When Amelia let her go, Gura’s eyes were still closed, tail swooning behind her.

“Wow.” She breathed.

Amelia agreed.

Then she scooped up the watch at her waist. “I need to go somewhere really quick. I’ll be back in a second.”

“Yeah…wait, what?” Gura’s eyes fluttered open, and her eyebrows pinched together.

“Really quick. Just gotta do something.” Amelia was already setting the course.

“Ame. I know you didn’t finally give me the kiss I’ve been dreaming of just to time-travel away immediately after.” 

Amelia paused, then gave a toothy grin. “I know, huh? I’m a natural Casanova.”

Gura laughed, a little in disbelief.

“Two seconds, promise.” Amelia saluted, pressed the spring on her watch and then faded away. 

Gura blinked. Bubba scratched at the collar on his neck. 

Then, Amelia faded back in, smiling ear-to-ear.

“See! Did’ya miss me?” Bubba barked and came over in response.

“Of course.” Gura said. She embraced her, and placed a lingering kiss on the traveler’s cheek. She relished Amelia’s bashful smile and the pinking tips of her ears.

They finished loading up the car, and once everyone and everything was inside, Amelia turned to where Gura sat in the passenger seat. She reached out, her hand coming to intertwine with the shorter girl’s.

“So Captain,” She began. “Where are we going first?”

London, England | 1965 | 3:07 PM

Bygones

James Carrow felt it when she walked in. The front door chimed, and a quick chill from the London air wafted in. But the air in the bookstore was thicker now. Tense. He knew she was nervous, and fiddled with her fingers by the entrance. Carrow was at the large, cedar desk, purposefully more invested in restoring the binding of the book he was working on. He had told her not to come back, after all. Though he was surprised she waited this long.

Still, she said nothing. Her shoes thudded against the wooden floors as she approached the table. Amelia took a breath. Shaky. Then she closed her mouth, whatever she wanted to say caught under her tongue.

She placed her hand on the table, just in his peripheral. Underneath her palm, a colored photo lay. Expensive these days, Carrow thought.

“Thank you.” Amelia said. She waited; Waited for Carrow to give her a nod, or a smile, or to look at her and say ‘Didn’t I tell you so?’ But he didn’t. It was tough love, and for Amelia’s sake. Where he thought she usually would sigh, or yell, or throw a tantrum, she merely drummed her fingers against the wood. 

“Alright.” She whispered. And turned around, exiting through the door for what James Carrow knew was for the last time.

He removed his glasses, putting the book and tools down to stare at the spot that Amelia Watson had just stood. Then he reached for the photo.

Two girls, Watson and someone else, smiling wide. No, he knew who it was. Chīsana Same, from the book his good friend Makoto had written. He flipped the photo, seeing the message ’June 17th, 2018: Explorer Time ♡’ scribbled at the top. Then in Amelia’s writing below, ‘Thanks for the push, Carrow. You asshole! Love, Amelia & Gura.’ Next to Gura’s name was a poorly drawn heart. Carrow smiled, and chuckled to himself. He slipped the photo into his shirt pocket.

“Congratulations, Watson.” 

He opened the drawer that sat on the inside of his desk, pulling out a pocket-watch that ticked with that familiar, odd intonation. The words, ‘J.C. ~ bouleutes’ etched on the side.

James Carrow twisted the knob, setting his next course. He clicked it and leaned back in his chair, fading away until not a trace of him was left.