The Waverider was in need of a bit of repair, so Rip had set her down just outside a village in Tibet. Coincidentally, the same village where he'd collected Sara some months ago. As the killer, the klepto, and the pyro had nothing to contribute to the repair process, he'd given them leave to wander about - even going so far as to provide them each with a roll of local currency, and strict orders to stay out of trouble.

Mick, of course, headed straight for the local tavern. Snart considered following, but noticed that Sara was heading down the main street of the town, and he was curious, so he zipped up his parka, and trailed along after her.

At the far end of the village was a fenced-in compound, containing what looked to be a temple and several outbuildings. One of the buildings was evidently undergoing repairs. There were holes in the roof, and stacks of timber and shingles stacked neatly on the ground. Sara spoke to a man wearing monk's robes, and gestured to the building. He smiled and nodded.

She turned and looked back over her shoulder with an impish grin. "Coming, Crook?"

Snart shrugged and followed her. "What is this place?" he asked, helping Sara to set a ladder against the building.

"A monastery and orphanage," she replied. "There's lots of ways to become an orphan around here. The monks do their best to help. Pass up some shingles, and the tool box."

Snart did as he was told, and boosted himself up beside her. "Is this going to hold both of us?" he asked dubiously.

"It will, if we fix it right."

"How did you know about this place?"

"I lived here for a while."

"It seems a little…rough hewn for a girl from Star City."

"It was a good place to disappear. No one asks any questions. Hold that straight, so I can hammer it."

Snart swore when the shingle slipped and pinched his fingers.

Sara smirked. "You're not very good at this."

"City boy."

"How come you didn't go with Mick?"

"I wanted to case the joint."

Sara just raised an eyebrow at that.

"Besides, I know where that bar is if I get bored hammering my own fingers."

They worked throughout the afternoon, until they'd depleted the supplies, and the sun was beginning to set. An elderly monk brought them steaming cups of tea, and Sara spoke to him in a language that Snart couldn't understand. He saw Sara hand over the cash Rip had given her, and felt around in his own pocket.

"Here," he said, extending the roll to the monk. "Buy the kids some new toys…or some Christmas dinner. Whatever." He was trying for his usual snark, but didn't quite make it.

"They don't celebrate Christmas here, Leonard," Sara informed him.

The monk smiled and spoke in halting English. "It is always the season for kindness, my friends." He clasped hands with both of them warmly, and waved as they exited the compound.

"Why'd you do that?" Sara asked curiously.

"Spend the afternoon injuring myself, or give away some local currency that I'm never going to use anyway?"

"Both."

Snart shrugged. "There's nothing to steal around here, and besides…you're better company than a bunch of smelly, rowdy drunks."

Sara wrapped both hands around his arm. "I think there's a nice guy hidden under all that ice."

"Well," he drawled, "I don't have to worry about you telling anyone, because they'd never believe you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. C'mon…let's go retrieve Mick before he burns the place down."