Wilma Flintstone (preview)

The ripple hit Middleton at 7:42 p.m. on a perfectly ordinary Tuesday.

One second the suburban street was quiet, the next a burst of temporal static crackled behind the Possible family garage. Wilma Flintstone stumbled out of thin air, barefoot in her tattered white cave-dress, orange hair wild, blue eyes wide with prehistoric panic.

“Fred? Pebbles? Dino?” she called, voice trembling. “Where’s everyone? Where’s my house?!”

Dr. James Timothy Possible had just pulled into the driveway after a long day at the lab. He slammed on the brakes, staring at the gorgeous redhead standing in his yard looking like she’d stepped straight out of a Saturday-morning cartoon. She was exactly his type—curvy, fiery-haired, and completely lost.

“Ma’am? Are you all right?” James asked, stepping out of the car with his hands raised like he was approaching a frightened animal. “You look… disoriented. Did you hit your head?”

Wilma spun toward him, chest heaving, the thin animal-skin dress clinging to her full breasts and wide hips. “I—I was in my kitchen, and then everything went spinny and now the sky is wrong and there is no Dino or Fred or Pebbles and—oh, you have a... a... what kind of vehicle is this? how do your feet touch the ground? how do you propel it?”

James blinked. Then his scientist brain kicked in. “I don't think you are from around here... place OR time. Let’s get you inside. You’re safe. I’m Dr. James Possible. I'lll help you figure this out.”

He guided her into the empty house (Kim was still missing in the Stone Age, Ann was at a conference, the twins at a sleepover). Wilma sat on the couch, knees together, staring at the television like it might bite her. James brought her water. She drank it suspiciously, then looked up at him with her big, innocent eyes.

“You’re… kind,” she said softly. “Like my husband Fred, but… cleaner. Smarter.” Her gaze drifted over his lab coat, his kind face, the way his shirt stretched across his chest. Something strange was happening inside her. The time-jump had done more than just relocate her—it had lit a fire in her cave-girl blood.

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