Sara Lance pulled the coat tightly around her for warmth, bracing against the cold wind. The snow flurries collected into the wisps of blond hair sticking out of her ski cap. The roar of the crowd all around her, she tried concentrating on the game and not on the chattering of her teeth, but it was becoming difficult. The cold was bad enough, but now it had to snow too? Canaries were not built for the cold, she lamented.

Just when she feared she had frozen to the bleacher, she felt a blanket being placed over her shoulders and an arm pulling her in closer for warmth. She looked up at him with surprise. Even though she was still freezing, she felt an unexpected warmth in being in Rip Hunter's arms.

It had been awkward at first, when he first rejoined the Legends. It had cost her the professional relationship, and the budding romance, she'd developed with Ava Sharpe, to have used Ava's knowledge of the Time Bureau's prison to break him out. John Constantine had insisted Rip's knowledge of Mallus was necessary to defeat him. But even so, once Sara had realized Rip was being imprisoned for acting against the Time Bureau, she couldn't leave him there. It hadn't been an entirely popular decision among the team, but they ultimately supported her. Even Amaya who, again, accused her of acting out of sentiment. Feeling Rip's arm around her, she mused that Amaya might have been right. She could never be completely impartial when it came to Rip Hunter. Having him back the past few months had proven that.

"I must say, I don't particularly care for the weather involved in watching your American football," Rip said, drinking from the thermos of hot coffee he'd gone to refill.

"Please tell me there's booze in that," she said, grabbing it from him.

"I'm afraid not. Here though," he said, pulling a flask from his left coat pocket and handing it to her.

She eagerly took a swig, and then returned it to him.

"Great thinking getting us seats away from the rest of the crew, although I'd be happy for Mick to set something on fire about now."

"He would just take the flask," he said, taking a swig himself.

That's a first down for Central City, amazing footwork there by quarterback Jefferson Jackson...

"I'm rather unfamiliar with American football, I'm afraid," Rip said. "You'll have to explain what's happening."

"Central City has the ball. They've just gotten a first down," she said, teeth chattering.

"And that means what, exactly?" he asked. She couldn't understand how he was not as miserably freezing as she was.

She took another swig of whiskey chased with a gulp of hot coffee. "They gained enough yards to keep possession of the ball. The more yards you gain, the closer you get to the end zone, the easier it becomes to score a touchdown, which is the main objective."

He took another drink of coffee himself. "So, our Mr. Jackson is playing well, is he?"

"He's doing great. I guess futuristic knee surgery does wonders for revitalizing a collegiate football career," she grinned.

He shrugged. "It was the only thing he would agree to be helped with. He wouldn't accept my offer of financial patronage for college after Savage, I know he'd declined Martin's offer of assistance as well. He insisted he should earn his place, as though he hadn't earned the money saving the world. He's a very proud young man, our Jax. But I believe he was quite surprised at the academic scholarship he received in addition to the football stipend, when he left the team earlier this year. He underestimates his own abilities."

"Letters of recommendation from several academics he's happened to work with over the past few years certainly didn't hurt," Sara said.

"Real world experience is very important to college admissions committees, I'm told. I am confident Mr. Jackson is going to make us very proud as an engineer. I hear Star Labs is already recruiting him for an internship."

"Will he take it? He always was the reluctant superhero."

"Mr. Allen has been giving him the hard sell, I believe," Rip said.

"Who? Me?" Barry suddenly appeared beside him.

"Barry!" Sara greeted him. "Wasn't sure you'd make it. Iris said you got held up at work."

"I wasn't sure either, it's always something, you know. Our seats are in the next section, I need to go find Iris and the others. I'll see you after the game at my house, right?"

"Yep, we'll be there," Sara said. "As long as you have heat! And booze!"

But Barry had already zipped away.

"I really am very proud of our Mr. Jackson," Rip said quietly.

"I am too. Losing Martin was devastating for him. He couldn't have healed the way he has staying with us. It was hard letting him go, but it was good for him."

"Martin would have been proud of him too. That was always something he wanted for Jax, for him to get to go to college."

"Martin would be grateful to you, Ray and Caitlin for helping him. And he wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for you. Not just saving him from his original timeline, not even repairing his knee. But giving him a sense of purpose he didn't have before," Sara said. She leaned into him for warmth.

At the end, the crowd roared. Touchdown by Central City in the final ten seconds of the game. 42-35.

. . .

Rip helped Sara out of her coat and hung it on the coat rack by the door. They removed their snow boots and moved into the living room towards the fire.

"Sara! Rip!" Caitlin said, embracing them both. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, Caitlin," Sara said. "I hear you're recruiting our boy Jax."

"We are! He's done great work at Central City University. Wally's been his upper class mentor."

"Well, we might need to recruit Wally if we aren't getting Jax back on board," she grinned, as Wally brought in a tray of food.

"I am up for that whenever you want to take me time traveling," he laughed. "It sounds a lot more fun on a time-ship than running really fast."

"Usually less trouble as well," Rip said, warming his hands by the fire. "Speaking of trouble, where is Mr. Allen?"

"He had to run something at the lab for Dad. Iris and Cisco should be back soon though," Wally said, opening a few wine bottles.

Sara answered the door, recognizing the pounding. "Hey, Mick, come on in."

"There better be beer," he said, then looked over to notice Caitlin. "So far I like the company."

Nate, Ray, Amaya and Zari all filed in a few minutes later, followed by Cisco and Iris.

"So, where's the man of the hour?" Iris asked, shaking the snow off her boots before she came in.

"Take a look," Sara said, pointing at the television. Jax was sitting with the coach, for the post-game press conference.

"It'll take him forever to get out of the stadium. I'll have Barry pick him up on his way home," she said, sending her husband a text.

In the meantime, Team Flash and the Legends enjoyed several bottles of wine and a relaxing evening of Not Saving the World, or the Universe, or the Multiverse. No Nazi doppelgängers, no evil metahumans or omniscient time bogeymen.

Barry finally zipped in with Jax, the hero of the Central City University football team.

Everyone applauded as he entered. Sara hugged him tightly. "I am so proud of you."

"Thanks for being here, Sara," he smiled into her mess of blond hair.

"Rip," he said, grabbing the Englishman for a hug. "Good to see you, man."

"You too, Jax," he said. "I'm very proud of all you've accomplished, and not just in sport. I'm proud of the man you are. I know that Martin would be as well."

Jax nodded his head, blinking back tears. "Thank you," he said with a smile.

The party broke up after a few hours. The guest of honor had finals for which to study. Ray, Mick and Nate had other friends to visit, and Team Flash had a not-so-unexpected emergency to handle that required super-speed and the assistance of two Legends with powerful totems. Sara and Rip bid good night to Iris after helping her clean up.

They walked out into the cold, heading to a Central City restaurant Sara wanted to try. She took his arm for warmth.

"Jax looks so happy," Rip said, with a grin.

"He does. You do too. Have I told you how glad I am you're back with us?" she said, looking up at him.

"I assumed so seeing as, in addition to helping fight Mallus, you needed someone to perform maintenance on the Waverider. Otherwise Dr. Palmer would just continue to electrocute himself until he can no longer swallow unassisted," Rip laughed.

"True, you are very useful. But I kinda like having you around too," she said with a wry grin.

"Is that so, Captain Lance?" he said, leaning down into her ear. His breath in her hair made her own breath catch. "Have I told you how much I missed you when I was away?"

"It was a long time for you. Over five years," she said with a frown. "I thought you must not have missed me at all."

He sighed. "No, it's just how long it took for me to pull myself back together."

"I know you felt you needed to leave to do that, just like Jax has, but I would've…"

"I know," he smiled, covering her hand with his. "But I wouldn't expect you to wait that long. And I needed to put things back in order. That was my responsibility."

"One you excluded the Legends from, if you'll recall," she said, icily.

He looked sheepish. "I am sorry for that still. I thought I was protecting you."

"I don't need your protection. None of us do. We need your trust. I need your trust," she said.

"There is no one I trust more than you, Sara. The question is, can I earn back your trust?"

She frowned. "You forget, our whole relationship has been you lying to me."

"I haven't lied about everything!" he said, defensively.

"Hmm. Okay. What's the most honest thing you've ever told me?"

He thought a moment. "That you're one of the strongest people I've ever known."

She surveyed his face, and nodded with approval. "I'll choose to believe you."

"You should, it's true," he said, opening the door for her to the restaurant.

It was late on a Saturday night, and due to the worsening weather, the restaurant was half-empty. They were seated at a small circular booth in the corner, soft sounds of a jazz trio playing across the hall.

They enjoyed wine and tapas with mostly casual conversation. It was unusual for them, Sara realized. To just be normal people. Two friends sharing a meal. After having gone to a football game. After having gone to a party. Although she loved her life and her responsibilities, she missed that simplicity, one that she hadn't experienced since Rip had stranded her without the Waverider.

Everything in moderation, she said to herself.

"Pardon?" Rip said, hesitating as he was refilling her glass of wine.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean moderation in drinking, definitely not," she laughed. "Sorry, I was just thinking out loud. How normal this is. How normal this entire day has been. It isn't something I'm used to anymore. But when I had normal every day it was so awful, I thought I would waste away from boredom. A little bit of normal is good though. Today is good."

"Today is good," he said, clinking his glass to hers.

"I do trust you, you know," she suddenly said. "Even when you've lied to me, even when you weren't even yourself, I've always believed in you."

"That means a lot to me, Sara. More than you can imagine," he said, seriously.

"I missed you. It might not have been five years worth, but I missed you," she said, looking up at him.

"I missed you too, Sara. But I needed time," he said. "I needed time to mourn my wife before…"

She looked at him with surprise. "Wow. Is that you being honest?" she asked.

He laughed, and took another drink of wine. "In vino veritas, I suppose."

"Then tell me something else true, Rip," she dared, taking another drink from her own glass.

"I'm ready to move forward," he said, continuing to drink.

"What else," she prompted.

"I want to move forward with you," he said, drinking more.

"What else," she said, taking the wine glass away from him before he could take another drink.

"I want to be with you," he said, looking at her heatedly.

"Anything else?" she asked, looking down at his lips then back to his bright green eyes.

"Right this moment, I really want to kiss you, Sara," he said, pushing strands of blond hair away from her face.

She leaned in and whispered. "Prove it."

His hand on her neck and thumb caressing her cheek, he pulled her into an achingly slow, soft kiss that took her breath away.

"Okay," she said against his lips.

"Okay?"

"I believe you," she grinned.

"And what about you, Sara?" he asked, gently playing with a strand of her hair. "Do you want those same things?"

"You're asking if I want you, Rip?" She brushed her lips against his, a teasing, ghosting of a kiss.

"And do you?" he asked, his voice deep and soft against her mouth.

"Why don't I show you?" she said, kissing him again.

"Sara," he murmured against her lips. "I've wanted you for so long."

"Let's go home, and you won't have to wait any longer," she said, pulling away and finishing both his wine and hers.

He waved down the waiter and asked for the check.