The Waverider was currently 'parked' and cloaked on the shores of Lake Ontario, in upstate NY. Gideon had announced a need to run diagnostics and recharge various systems. She'd none-too-subtly suggested that the crew might be in need of a bit of recharging, as well, and had pointed out a nearby renaissance faire.
Nate, Jax, and Ray had been eager to relive some of their adventures in Camelot, while still enjoying the benefits of showers, clean clothing, and safely cooked food. Martin had been enticed with the prospect of a Shakespeare play.
Snart had taken a bit more convincing. Sara had appeared in a flirty little sundress and lobbed a blue cotton button-down at his head, informing him that he'd pass out from heat in that sweater. He'd assured her there was no danger of that, as the Waverider had excellent air conditioning, and he had no intention of joining in their little trip down memory lane. Sara had slipped into his lap, twined her arms around his neck, and whispered that she'd make it worth his while.
So here he was, wandering through sweaty crowds in much warmer weather than he preferred, because it made Sara Lance happy. He'd even gone so far as to purchase a piece of jewelry - a pendant, with the image of a songbird etched into a piece of emu egg shell - because he admired the craftsmanship.
Sara hadn't even teased him for it - just kissed his cheek, her eyes clearly conveying her understanding that he'd never cheat an artist who made an honest living through his craft.
Still, she knew his moods well enough to recognize when he was beginning to lose patience with the heat and increasing inebriation of the crowds. When most of the mob began migrating to the joust field, she'd checked the program and seen a wandering minstrel had a set in a quiet shady spot. Along the way, he'd stopped to procure an enormous ice cream sundae.
Snart settled himself on a bench and dug into his ice cream, frowning when Sara darted her fingers in the bowl to nab the cherry.
"Get your own," he grumbled good naturedly.
"Why? You can't possibly eat all that before it melts." She broke off a piece of the waffle bowl and scooped up a bit of the ice cream.
The minstrel arrived then, and began his patter and tuning. Snart noticed his eyes lingering a bit too appreciatively on Sara. Although he knew perfectly well that she had at least two knives somewhere under that dress, and was quite capable of dealing with an overly amorous admirer without them, he decided that a bit of a display was in order all the same, and leaned in to kiss a smear of fudge sauce from the corner of Sara's mouth.
Her eyes twinkled mischievously, knowing exactly what he'd done. "See, I knew you'd get the hang of this chivalry and romance thing." Snart just shook his head in fond exasperation as she helped herself to a bit more of his ice cream.
