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❛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴛʏ ᴍᴄғʟʏ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ғɪᴠᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ғɪᴠᴇ ꒱　


❝ AW, YOU'RE SUCH A
CUTE OLD MAN! ❞

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July 20th, 1960

Alexa sang to herself quietly as her pencil traced lines across the vast expanse of white paper that was sprawled out over her cluttered desk. A detailed pink-blue-green plaid pattern was beginning to take shape as the small office started planning for their late summer and early fall fashions. The window in her office was open, allowing a light breeze to circle through the space and blow gently at her hair. The girl's door was also open allowing her a view of Marilyn sitting at her desk as she clacked away on a typewriter— most likely responding to orders.

"'And the sailors say Brandy! you're a fine girl, what a good wife you would be, such a fine girl, but my life, my love and my lady is the sea!'" The blonde girl didn't know why the song was stuck in her head except that it was almost a perfect representation of her life. "'Yeah, your eyes could steal a sailor from the sea.'"

"What's that song, dear?" the red-haired woman called to her.

Alexa's singing stopped and she scrambled for an answer. "Uh, Brandy, but you wouldn't know the band. They're new." More like not even created yet.

"It sounds like a lovely song except for the mentions of debauchery, of course."

The blonde laughed slightly at the woman's '60s views (not at her, just of how reflective of the time she was.) "It's one of my favorites," she admitted. "It reminds me of someone I love."

"Oh? Do you care to share?" There was an obvious note of interest in her voice since Alexa rarely talked about anything about herself or her past.

The girl shrugged. "There's not much to say. There's this boy I love but, well, we're complicated. He's always got more important things to do than stick around and I don't really blame him. I just know I'll never be enough to make him stay. He's the sailor in the song, you see."

Marylin shot her a sympathetic look. "Is he the boy you bring coffee in for everyday?"

"Yes. I keep hoping he'll show up one of these days and change his mind. There'll probably be something else major going on though."

The woman fell silent after that and Alexa returned to her singing: "'Brandy walks through a silent town and loves a man who's not around she still can hear him say Brandy! you're such a fine girl! what a good wife you would be, such a fine girl— but my life, my love and my lady is the sea!'"

The sea, in this case, was the uncharted waters of time and space.

☂☂☂

They chased Five up Elliot's stairs, Luther shouting after the boy. "Hey, Five, doomsday is still coming! We gotta think of a new plan."

"Don't you get it, Luther?" he demanded as they reached the top. "It's over, alright? We're already dead."

"Then where are you going?" Alexa asked as they entered the living space.

"I'm going to do the unthinkable."

"What the hell does that mean?" Luther exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'd like to know too! What happened to at least telling me before you go off and do something reckless?"

"I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this," the boy muttered.

"Come to what, Five?"

Luther shut the door behind them. "Five! Five!"

The boy disappeared into the next room and Alexa sighed. She really, really wished he would be able to keep just one promise. "Come to what?" Luther called through the door.

"He's not going to tell you, you know," she commented. Her brother ignored her and continued to call after the boy.

As they waited for Five to reappear, Luther took over Elliot's couch while Alexa took a page out of the boy's book and paced back and forth as she occasionally ran her fingers through her hair and worried at her lower lip, her thoughts running in anxious circles about what might happen next. She'd always been good at figuring out Five's plans but this time she was coming up short.

Sometime later, the door slammed and startled Luther awake. "Five?" he asked.

They watched in surprise as he reached into the refrigerator, pulled out a giant container of water and started chugging it. "Five, what the hell?" Alexa demanded— not for the first time.

"You okay?" Luther asked.

He gasped heavily as he finished draining the container. "I'm gonna need to be hydrated."

"Hydrated?"

The blonde frowned slightly. "I'm glad you're finally taking your health seriously but—"

"It's not that," he cut across her as he reached over the kitchen table and picked up the baby powder before pouring it down his shirt sleeves.

"What's with baby powder?"

"It'll help with the itching."

"Itching?" Alexa asked. "Five, you need to start explaining yourself."

Luther's eyes widened. "You do have a plan," he said with surprise as Five then poured the baby powder down his pants.

Alexa quickly averted her eyes.

"Well, it's a desperation move but since our brain-dead siblings are incapable of meeting a simple deadline," he said, picking up his jacket and leaving the kitchen. "I got no choice."

"No choice about what?"

"I have to find myself," he explained as he slung his jacket over his shoulder. He pulled out the watch to check it. "I just arrived in Dallas fifteen minutes ago."

The blonde's eyes widened. "Your old self!" she exclaimed as she put the pieces together. "This is where you were when you came back to 2019!"

Five pointed at her before bending over to stretch. "Exactly. I was sent to 1963 on a job by The Commission to make sure the president was assassinated."

Luther turned to her. "So his old self is out there?"

Alexa nodded. "It's an interception. He's just walking around Dallas right now."

Five nodded in agreement. "Walking around Dallas with a briefcase that can get us home."

She was impressed, not that she expected any less from him. "That's brilliant!"

"Yes, however, there are two significant problems with this plan," he continued as he paced back and forth. "Problem number one: I am a trained assassin, arguably the most dangerous assassin in the space-time continuum. If I know me, I'm not going to react kindly to bumping into myself. Problem number two— and this is the real fly in the ointment here: you're not supposed to exist in close proximity to yourself in the same timeline. The side effects can be disastrous."

"Side effects? What side effects?"

"Well, according to The Commission's handbook, chapter 27, subsection 3b, the seven stages of paradox psychosis are:

Stage one: denial
Stage two: itching
Stage three: extreme thirst and urination
Stage four: excessive gas
Stage five: acute paranoia
Stage six: uncontrolled perspiration
Stage seven: homicidal rage." 

He ticked each one off on his fingers before he clasped his hands together at the last.

"Homicidal rage?" Luther asked.

"Yeah." At least he sounded reasonably. . . guilty? That wasn't quite the word but it almost made up for the ridiculous recklessness of the plan.

"Jeez, I don't know. Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Luther protested.

"It's a Hail Mary but what choice do we got, Luther?"

"Homicidal rage?" Alexa asked more quietly. She watched as Five resumed his pacing. "That's where I come in, isn't it?"

Five gave her a nod. "Hopefully my old self will be more accepting towards you. If not, you can use your shields to keep us from killing each other before the job is done."

She gave him a worried look. "I can't believe I'm saying this but I agree with Luther. Knowing you, stage seven will be stage one."

"You already seem a bit squirrely if I'm being honest," Luther admitted.

"Look, guys, I'm going to need your help to get me through this one, alright?" He turned towards his brother and grabbed his arms. "I need a spotter."

"A spotter? What's that, like a wingman?"

"In case the paradox psychosis gets too severe I need you to help me stay on task," Five then turned towards the blonde and resisted the urge to grasp her hands reassuringly. "I need you to promise me that you'll do whatever it takes to keep either version of me from getting killed. Whatever happens, whatever I say, we need to get that briefcase."

Alexa frowned, her worry only increasing. "Five, I—"

"Please, Lexa," he said. His tone softened slightly. He met her gaze. "I'm asking for your help."

She knew she was going to cave. Five asking for her help had the same effect her pout had on him and she couldn't say no. The blonde sighed. "Alright, but we're doing this my way." He gave her a curious look. "I'm going to talk to your old self first," she said firmly. "He'll probably be more receptive to me—"

"Absolutely not," Five cut across her. "I need you to keep me in check. God knows I'm not going to listen to Luther—"

"Hey!"

"—so you need to stay close to me," he finished as if he hadn't been interrupted.

Alexa shook her head. "Five, that's not helping your case. I need to talk with your old self first especially if he's going to get ticked off by Luther's presence—"

"I'm still here, guys," their brother said, irritation clearly in his voice. He was ignored again.

Five finally reached forward and grasped her hand causing her to look up at him. "I'm not going to trust myself with you. We can risk Luther, but—"

She squeezed his hand before quickly dropping it, lest Luther catch on. "We can't risk anybody," she replied firmly, "and I'm the one least in danger."

☂☂☂

They entered the Irish pub which seemed dark after the bright sunlight and paused next to the half wall as they looked out at the diners.

"Well, there I am," Five observed, looking towards the bar.

Alexa followed his gaze and was almost surprised to see an old man. She was so used to seeing young-old Five that she sort of forgot that he wasn't supposed to look like a kid. A briefcase sat between Five Senior's legs as the man himself wrote in an open book.

Before she could stop herself, Alexa said, "aw, you're such a cute old man!"

Her Five gave her an irritated glare. "I'm not cute," he grumbled with annoyance. "I'm a trained assassin—"

She rolled her eyes. "And arguably the most deadly in the space-time continuum. Yes, yes I know. You've said. You're still cute though."

Luther gave them a disturbed look. "Why don't we just grab the briefcase and run?"

"Luther, I would never let that happen. We're trained to guard these briefcases with our lives," plus, the inherent paradox makes this tricky. I'm endangering my existence just being in the same room as myself."

"What do you mean?"

Alexa sighed. "If we don't complete the circle and get old Five back to 2019, our Five is going to be royally screwed. They'll both cease to exist."

"You got that from what he's saying?"

"I took four years of quantum physics and time theory. I'd like to think I learned a little from nearly blowing my GPA. Besides, this is almost the plot of Back to the Future."

"You're smart!" Luther exclaimed.

Alexa huffed. "No need to sound so surprised."

"Our best chance is to talk with him, to reason with him. Trust me. I know myself better than I. . . know myself." Five peered around the wall and shifted skittishly, raising his hand to scratch at his neck.

"Uh, Five?" the blonde asked.

"What?"

"You just itched your neck!" Luther exclaimed.

"No I didn't. I did not itch my neck."

"Denial. Stage one," Alexa reminded him.

"I'm fine, alright?" the boy snapped. "Let's just stay on task, alright?"

"Alright," the blonde agreed. She pushed past him to make her way into the main dining area as she ignored Luther's calls and Five's curses.

Ignoring the anxiety that was suddenly surging through her, Alexa approached the old man cautiously. He won't hurt me, she reminded herself. Even if he tries, he can't.

She let out a cough. "Um, Five?"

He barely glanced up from his work. "Scram, kid."

The blonde held back a smile. "Five, it's me."

Old Five finally looked up, his eyes scanning her face in that analytical way of his. She forced herself not to shift uncomfortably. "What did you call me?"

She swallowed, "Five. It's-it's me. Um, Number Eight?"

He straightened and his eyes widened slightly. "Alexa? But— you're so young! How—"

A suspicious glint entered his eyes and she immediately backtracked. "That's a long story," she said apologetically. "Do you want to ask me a question only I would know? So I can prove it's me?"

Old Five's mouth formed a straight line as he considered her suggestion. "Alright. What was our favorite snack when we were younger?"

"Peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches."

"And-and what was the book you asked my opinion on for research help?"

Alexa's eyes flicked to the floor, unable to meet his gaze. "Um, Pride and Prejudice. But you said there should've been more action."

His mouth dropped open slightly. "My god, it is you!" Old Five stared at her and she watched his hand slip down underneath the table.

She tried not to let panic overwhelm her. "Five, it's okay. I can explain. Like I said, it's a long story, but— um, first I need you to, uh, meet some people. Just, promise you won't freak out."

"What the hell—"

"Five, please. Just-just let me explain."

Even as she turned, she could still feel him staring at her and the back of her neck prickled. Of course he was dangerous, he was a trained assassin. Still, she couldn't even imagine what it must be like to see someone you hadn't laid eyes on in forty-five years and have it seem like no time at all had passed. Alexa waved her hand in a come here motion toward Luther and Five.

"Hey there, stranger," her Five greeted him as he approached the bar.