Time Rider Ch. 02

"And I was too dumb to notice," he sighed. "But I'm worried it might become a problem. I keep coming back in time to see you, but you never catch up. It might end up causing one of those time knots or whatever the agents called it."

"And waiting three months to see you would suck," she muttered, scowling at the floor. "It won't make a difference to you, but for me, it'll seem like forever."

"What if... what if we broke it up into chunks?" Mark suggested.

"So, you don't visit me every night like you do now but say every two weeks or something?" Becky mused. "That could work, although you'd better toughen up, because I'll be going crazy between visits, humping my bedposts in desperation. When you step through my door, I'll probably tackle you and try to fuck you to death."

"Helluva way to go," he laughed. "But I do think it's a good idea to sync up our timelines, even if it means we have to fuck less for a bit."

"From my point of view," she grumped. "But you're right. Well, I am going to Hawaii for a week, I suppose you could join me."

"I remember you doing that," he said. "We got stuck with that awful sub, the one we all call Miss Grundy. Pretty sure we were all glad when you got back. So, you won't mind me tagging along to Hawaii with you?"

"It'll be fun," she giggled, stroking his hand. "We'll go to luaus, make love on a black sands beach and in the bamboo groves..."

He considered. "We'll need a way for me to make some money so I'm not a burden. We have access to a time machine, how hard can it be?"

They paused the conversation as they felt the coach slow down and come to a stop. There was nothing but silence for several seconds.

"What now?" Becky muttered, wondering if someone was going to try and rob them again. Her hand left Mark's lap and came to rest on the flintlock pistol hiding beside her.

A little slot in the front of the coach opened and a sly, pencil-mustachio'd face grinned back at them.

"Pardon my intrusion," he said in what could only be described as a New England accent. "But my name is Chester Edgeworth, and I couldn't help but overhear that you're looking to clear a tidy little profit from your time travelling?"

***

Author's Notes: I'm personally enjoying this story, because I like writing about the complexities of time travel, at least from a sci-fi bumf point of view. Think about history and there's so much fun to be had, especially if you're someone like Mark and looking to get laid.

And since we do not, at this point in time, have any particular idea if temporal travel is even possible, let alone how it would work, you might as well refrain from criticizing how the quantum mechanics of this story flow, because it's as good a theory as any. If you have an idea about it, PM me and I'll consider.

As for anyone who gets confused by the somewhat Pulp Fictionesque aspect of this story, in terms of bouncing around between timelines and incarnations, if you could not follow that movie, don't try to follow this story. It'll just upset you and you'll throw a tantrum on the story's rating. There's the door.

I'm enjoying Becky being the strong one (for now), since strong female leads are often hard to come by. Yes, it's Mark's time machine, but he's an 18 year-old idiot, so he needs a guiding hand. A teacher is as good as anyone.

Anyhoo, I'm hoping this story will give you a chuckle. It's meant to be funny and sexy, not some deep, deep work of erotic genius. Enjoying it on an ephemeral and even visceral level is fine by me.

Keep your stick on the ice!

-Management