For the Snart Lives! (AKA F*** Destiny) Project. Thank you to stillthewordgirl for organizing this! (And also for the read-through!)

There were a few good points to this whole hero gig, Snart supposed. It was nice not to be kicked out of places on sight. It was nice to have smart people willing to make cool new tech for him just because they could.

It was not so nice to never seem to get a day off. Even if he'd been able to ignore the general commotion on the street (maybe), or the look in Sara's eyes that promised he'd be bunking in the cargo hold - alone (probably not), the little girl's voice, screaming for her mommy, had been the deal breaker.

Which is how he and Sara ended up here, in the Waverider's medbay, being treated for mild smoke inhalation and a few assorted bumps, bruises, and second-degree burns.

"How are we doing, Gideon?" Sara asked, removing her oxygen mask to do so.

"Your injuries are ninety-five percent healed, Captain. I feel compelled to point out that had you waited for the fire department, you would not have required my assistance."

"The fire captain felt compelled to point out that if we'd waited, those kids wouldn't have made it," Snart replied. He glanced over to Sara. "Put the mask back on."

She glared a bit, then coughed a bit, then put the mask back over her nose and mouth.

Snart rose smoothly to his feet and sauntered over to the sink. He ran a washcloth under cool water, and used it to gently wash the more obvious soot and grime from Sara's face. He brushed a kiss to a faint red mark on her forehead that would be completely faded by the morning.

"You OK?" he asked, in a peculiarly low and gentle tone that very few heard.

Sara nodded. She pulled the mask off and tried a few careful breaths. Once she was satisfied that she wouldn't start coughing again, she set the mask aside and wriggled to a more upright position. She swung her legs over the side of the medical chair and caught Snart's hand to make him look at her.

"What are you thinking? You're a million miles away."

He made a show of looking at the readings on the screen, although he really didn't know what half of them meant.

"Len?"

"Have you ever wanted one of those?" he finally asked, the words coming out in a rush.

Sara looked understandably puzzled. "A house fire, started by a crazed meta? Not so much."

He huffed out a laugh at that. "No…I meant…you looked good with a kid in your arms. I guess…I just wondered…"

Sara looked down at her feet. "Wow. I haven't really thought about that in a long time, what with being shipwrecked, and an assassin, and dead."

"And time traveling."

She looked up at him. "And time traveling. For what it's worth, I thought you looked good with a kid, too. I never realized that was something you wanted."

"Neither did I, really."

Sara looked down again, until Snart walked right up to her, nudging her knees apart to get as close as possible. He picked up both her hands in his own.

"Thing is, between being dead, and the Lazarus Pit, I don't even know if I can have kids."

"I don't suppose anyone really knows until they start trying…but I think that could be fun…the trying, I mean." He raised her hands to his mouth and pressed soft kisses to her knuckles.

Sara's expression turned decidedly mischievous as she looked up at him through her lashes. "It might take a lot of practice." She tugged her hands free so that she could loop her arms loosely around Snart's neck.

"It might," he agreed, settling his hands on her hips.

"We should probably get started on that right away."

She wrapped her legs around his waist and he easily lifted her from the chair.

"Captain, I feel compelled to advise you -"

"Shut up!" they replied, in chorus.