Across the Years (Beymani)

Chapter Seven: Groovy

Omniscient POV

Instead of going home, Beyoncé went straight to Professor Smith's lab. When she arrived, she was drenched and covered in mud, but that hardly mattered to her. She was on a mission.

It was a Saturday and she wasn't due at work, so understandably, Smith was rather surprised when she burst into the lab.

"Tell me," Beyoncé said as soon as she rushed through the door, pointing to the machine. "Does that thing actually work? I need to know. Can I really go back in time?"

Smith stood there, rather surprised by Beyoncé's sudden interest in his experiments. The fact that she was dripping wet only added to his confusion. "Yes. I've run tests. Many tests. It works. Why the sudden interest?"

Beyoncé wiped some rain from her forehead and sat down, a pained look on her face.

"Because he was an asshole. Because while he drank and slept with his mistresses, Mani died alone in misery and in pain. No one was there to hold her hand. No one was there to tell her how special and beautiful she was."

Now, Smith was really confused.

"I don't follow..."

"It's simple," Beyoncé responded, determined. "I'll be your little guinea pig, your test subject for this machine. All I ask for is one thing in return. You have to let me go back in time to stop a wedding."

Smith scratched his head. "Um... when did this wedding take place?"

"1869."

Noting the still confused, yet curious expression on her employer's face, Beyoncé went back to the beginning and recounted her entire ordeal. From her discovery of the photo to the revelation that Normani had in fact died during childbirth. Beyoncé told the entire tale, struggling to hold back her tears. All the while, Smith listened carefully, one hand tucked under his chin.

Upon finishing her story, Beyoncé wiped her face and stood up. She was still upset and very agitated, but she tried to shake her ever present frustration off. She needed to be strong, strong for Normani.

"I know you're going to lecture me about not changing the past and all that other Back to the Future bullshit. But I gotta be honest, Professor Smith, I don't care. Normani was– is, a wonderful, beautiful, woman and I can't live another day knowing she's down there, suffering. Knowing she ended up like she did. I have to save her."

Beyoncé fully expected him to say no given the state she was currently in. He probably thought she was going mad. But instead, Smith smiled.

"I made this machine for the benefit of mankind, and if God hadn't wanted me to develop it, he would've stopped me by simply not giving me my intelligence. Hell, he could've had me hit by a bus or choked to death by a cashew nut! Come on, let's do it!"

Beyoncé immediately turned towards the machine and clapped her hands, walking towards it. "I'm ready."

Smith reached out to grab his pupil by the shoulder, and gently stopped her from going any further.

"Hold the phone. We can't just dump you in 1869. We have to do a couple of test jumps," he explained. "I know you're impatient, but this is the wiser course. You're much larger than my mice, after all."

Beyoncé sighed, then lowered her head with a nod. "Yeah, you're right. I'm getting ahead of myself," she admitted. "Let's face it, I'm probably the worst candidate to have as your time traveler."

Smith vigorously shook his head. "No. In fact, you're perfect. That's why I hired you. You're majoring in theater. You're taking a class in costume design. You can't just dive in there, even with the right clothes. You'd stick out like a sore thumb. You need to approach this like you would a part in a play. Make up a character, come up with a background. Why are you in London, for example? You need to prepare and learn how to do things in that day and age, like riding a horse. While we work on getting the machine perfected, you can develop your 1869 character. Your acting and theatre experience will greatly benefit you. So when you go, you can fit in so no one suspects a thing."