Yeah, as if I didn't have anything else to write. :) Twelve short chapters, to be posted one a day until Dec. 25. (OK, one random day will have two chapters because I'm starting late.)
...
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...
xxx
Raymond, in his paroxysm of holiday spirit, has hung mistletoe in the entry to the bridge.
Leonard stops in his tracks—after casting quickly about to make sure no opportunistic teammates are nearby—and glares at it. It's quite a dire expression for such as innocent bit of greenery, really, and even he knows it's overkill. But he can't quite help himself.
He's put up with the garland around the holo table. The tree in the galley. Even the crackling fireplaces Gideon has been persuaded to air on every view screen in their rooms. But this…
"So, what'd that mistletoe ever do to you?"
He jumps; he can't quite help himself. It's not easy to sneak up on him, even when he's distracted; he knows this on a level that's beyond humility or bravado. But she can do it.
She's always been able to do it.
He turns his head to regard her. Sara is standing a few feet away—out of reach on a number of levels, and the thought causes a pang that he buries deep down. She's barely spoken to him in the weeks since the team had stolen him back from the Legion and Gideon had restored his memories. He can't blame her, really; he'd done some shitty things during his brief time with them, but he hadn't known….
"Personally? Nothing," he drawls, drawing habit around him as a shield and shroud. "Let's just say I'm not fond of its kind."
Sara's eyes remain cool, but she takes a step closer and raises an eyebrow. "Do tell."
It's the most she's said to him since…since…
Somehow, the words bubble up. She's always been able to do that to him, too. "Hmm. Well, last time, it was someone I was working with on a job. Turns out he did it to distract me from the fact the other guy on the job was pulling a double-cross." He gives her a chilly smile. "He wasn't that good a kisser; it didn't work."
Her lips actually twitch, but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't leave either, though.
He hesitates. Prevaricate and deflect? Or would truth help? "Only other time was high school. Before I dropped out."
That does get a reaction, a true flicker of surprise in her eyes as she meets his. Suddenly, he makes a connection, pushes on recklessly. "One of the smartest girls in school. Pretty. Not rich, but far more solidly middle-class than the jailbait son of Lewis Snart could even be." He shrugs. "I didn't even realize I was standing under the thing until she was there in front of me. It was just a peck, but…"
He folds his arms. "You could have knocked me over with a feather. She turned and ran back to the stairwell and I was still standing there. I spent the whole weekend daydreaming about her; got the shit beaten outta me by my dad for being distracted. I had this whole Romeo-and-Juliet thing going on in my head…went back to school with great plans for asking her out, starting skulking around her locker….
He smirks at the startled-looking Sara. "And I hear her admitting to her friends that it was a pity kiss. They were giving her a lot of grief about it… imagine kissing skinny juvenile delinquent Leonard Snart! She was quite embarrassed. Never looked twice at me again. So, yeah, pity kiss? Far worse than no kiss at all."
There. He gives her a thin, humorless smile and turns to walk back to his room.
Sara finds her voice behind him. "Wait a second, asshole. Is this about…the Oculus?"
It hadn't been, at first. He hadn't intended it to be, but… "I don't like pity, Canary. Save it for someone who needs it."
She's in front of him, then, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. "You jerk. You don't know…."
"You've barely said two words to me since Gideon restored my memories," he hisses at her, fighting to keep the words cool, to keep himself from letting more emotion in. "I get it, OK? Not like you had any idea the whole 'death' thing was going to stick for me about as well as it did for you. Probably seemed harmless enough, right? Kiss I didn't have to steal? Now I'm back, you've thought better of it."
He straightens, steps back, tries to regather himself. "And that's your right, right? Your prerogative. But don't pretend that me and you…that you give a shit, OK? I'm outta here as soon as we get back to the right time and place, like I said before. Guess I just had to get that off my chest."
He turns around again, trying to get his bearings, realizing that he's under that damned mistletoe again. He hears a…well, growl is probably the most accurate word…from behind him, but he's not going to look, he's already regretting opening his fool mouth at all, he needs to just leave…
And then Sara is there. She's moved so recklessly, for her, that she's actually a little off-balance; she almost falls against him and he reaches out without even thinking about it to catch her and then her body is flush against his, thigh to shoulder and…
He barely notices, though, because her hands are wrapped around the lapels of his jacket, and her mouth is on his.
She tastes sweet, he thinks, ridiculously, as they both move to deepen the kiss almost involuntarily. Sweet and cool and … her tongue grazes his bottom lip and then darts past it, and then cool is not precisely the word he'd use to describe how this feels.
It's mere seconds; it's days; it's millennia. It's infinitely longer than the kiss at the Oculus and if there were two brain cells left in his head to think about it, he'd say that this is definitely not a pity kiss, this is a force of nature and….
And then, on a shaky breath, Sara breaks the kiss. He makes an involuntary noise of protest and opens his eyes and gazes into hers for one beat, two.
She lets go of his coat, steadies herself and takes a step back as he hastily yanks his hands from where they'd come to rest on her hips. He stares at her, speechless, reading something in her eyes but utterly at a loss as far as what to do about it.
She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, shakes her head and opens them again. Then she turns on her heel. "Pity, my ass," he hears her growl as she stalks away.
And for once, Leonard Snart hasn't the foggiest idea what to do next.
xxx
...a crook who came back to me.
