Sterling Rossi thinks he's just made history as the world's first chrononaut. But if he's the first to travel back through time, who is the attractive blond he sees during his jaunt, and why is his team so keen to deny his existence?
Sterling soon realizes there are more forces at work than he ever imagined and wonders just what's really happening, and who he can trust.
As the truth unravels, Sterling has to go back in time to save his lover, while a creature from the fabric of time threatens to destroy the world.
Be Warned: m/m sex, rimming
Sterling’s eyes watered, and he dabbed at them with a handkerchief, before slowly opening them and taking in his surroundings. No pod, no chamber, and no complex. He stood in a dingy alleyway, at the end of which he could see a street where people passed back and forth. He grinned, flexing his fingers, and his toes inside his tight boots. He pulled out his pocket watch and flipped the lid open.
“Rossi recording. I hope this works and you hear it on my return.” Sterling’s voice shook with excitement. “We’ve done it. The first successful jaunt. I don’t know how exact we are with timing. I’m securing the spare gold coins, but since the jaunt here was successful, I have every faith you can recall me. Rossi out.”
A successful jaunt. Sterling felt like dancing, but settled himself down. “I didn’t get to the space station, Ma, but I’m the first man to successfully travel back in time. Now let’s see if they got me when they wanted.” He murmured quietly to himself as he cleared aside some of the debris that littered the alleyway.
There was no concrete beneath his feet, just earth. He cleared some dirt, surprised to see a grating nearby. Shrugging, Sterling dug a small hole, and buried some of his surplus gold. If, God forbid, he couldn’t be returned to his own time, he had on his person, and now buried, more than sufficient gold to be able to settle in this time, and live comfortably. He sent a fervent prayer that it would be nothing more than a precaution.
Smoothing down his frock coat as if he was going to be walking on a catwalk and stared at by everyone, he walked slowly toward the end of the alley. The smell didn’t improve, and Sterling hoped his nose wouldn’t be permanently damaged by the unrelenting stink.
He knew not to touch anything as far as possible, but more importantly, no matter what he saw, no matter how much of an atrocity he witnessed, he couldn’t interfere. He was an observer only. He had no intentions of breaking that prime directive. Not only his life, but the lives of all his family and friends depended on it. It was a huge burden, and Sterling could not let his emotion overrule his judgment. Everyone he saw today was long since dead and buried. That was what he needed to remember.
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