A/N: My first quasi-captain canary fic. Be patient with me. I haven't written these characters before. Also, it should be noted that this scene happens after the team has talked out and agreed to go w/ the guy (Rex Tyler) who showed up unexpectedly from the Justice Society of America at the end of the finale episode. It's implied that Mr. Tyler isn't the only one who was aboard Wave Ryder #2.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

"So, after all that, we've agreed to come aboard Wave Rider number two on some brand new mission to save the world."

Sara nodded, eyebrows rising at the comment, but she was looking down at her hands fiddling with themselves on the table.

"The world always needs saving though, so I suppose it's fitting," he continued, eyeing her curiously as he crossed the room. Finally, he sat down and faced her. She still didn't look up. "You're oddly quiet."

"I think I spoke my mind very quickly before we got aboard." She lifted her head and caught his gaze, forcing a hint of a smile, trying to be playful and lighthearted. The corner of Mick's lips twitched.

"You did get rather…feisty in your demands that they prove their identity."

"Considering all the people that have betrayed us in the last five months, it felt necessary."

Mick nodded and leaned back in his seat. Sara went back to looking at her hands.

"So, what's up with you?" he asked, his gravelly voice somehow both more rough and soft than usual. "You seem…withdrawn."

She looked up at him again, this time a genuine twinkle in her eye.

"Since when is Mick Rory concerned how I feel? Since when does Mick Rory care about anything?" she taunted lightly, knowing he hated to openly admit to good natured selfless feelings.

"I don't." He stood up suddenly and started a slow pace. "You're just acting weird. It annoys me."

She nodded and smiled, but her eyes were down on her hands again.

"I'll try to tone it down."

He was almost to the doorway when he stopped and looked at her. The smile was gone from her face and her hands were moving slower, not so agitated, but it was as if he could feel the sadness emanating off of her. It stirred the rare sympathy that had welled up in him occasionally in the past month. For a reason he wasn't yet ready to admit, he felt compelled to be vocal about it.

"I'm…sorry."

She turned to look at him, eyes confused and searching.

"For...?"

"For your sister."

Her mouth opened and then closed. She nodded.

"I know what it's like to lose someone."

She swallowed.

"Thanks, Mick," she managed, and almost let him leave the room before blurting, "I'm sorry too." Her breath hitched. "About Leonard."

Mick froze again. He felt his hands shaking and the temperature rise and fall all over his body.

"I…I could have stopped him. Maybe you wish I would have."

He turned to look at her.

"I do."

She looked down, away from him. A cold sweat prickled her skin as his footsteps drew nearer.

"But I don't blame you."

Her head lifted and confusion spread across her face as she tried to find reason in his words and expression.

"You…don't?"

"Leonard was a hero…in a way I don't know if I'll ever be."

"But you would have—"

"I had nothing to lose." He came and sat beside her. "He did."

She turned to him, eyes wide, but before she could say anything—

"You thought I didn't know." His lips twitched and he looked at her, taking in her shocked expression. "I was about to kill you when Snart stepped in. That wasn't just because you were another part of the team he'd decided to start caring about. You were…special."

She half-laughed and shook her head incredulously.

"Did other people…know?"

He shrugged.

"I was either MIA or trying to kill you all for most of the rest of our mission, so I didn't exactly have time for little buddy-buddy chats with the rest of the crew; but if any of them bothered to pay any attention, they would have noticed who he preferred to spend time with."

"We played cards—"

"You connected."

She took a breath and swallowed.

"Before he…before that, he told me he saw a future with me."

Mick's eyes widened, surprised, but he said nothing.

"It was part two of his apology for pulling a gun on me."

Mick smiled. "Ah."

"I brushed it off." She shrugged, tears welling in her eyes that she thought she'd dried long ago. "But before he…" she swallowed hard, wishing it wasn't so hard to talk about this when she could so easily fume about the death of her sister and talk of honoring Laurel's name. "We had a moment," she managed.

She let out a loud sigh that held shaky tears. Mick didn't comment.

"I don't think I took much of what he said seriously, but in that moment and every moment since then, I've just felt this hole inside of me spreading. It's just gotten deeper and more painful with my sister's death. Avenging Leonard and Laurel by saving the world sounds like a pretty good first step to recovery, but…"

"You don't want to admit it," he finally said.

She turned to look at him. "What?"

"You don't want to admit you have feelings for a dead guy that you didn't much like in the beginning."

"I…"

"You had a moment, but you didn't say anything. Did you." It wasn't a question.

"I don't know what I feel."

"That's a lie."

"Or that it even matters."

"Another lie."

"Mick—"

"Let's say he didn't die. To make us both feel better, let's pretend somehow Snart survived."

Her breathing was shallow. It was the only thing she could hear other than the hum of the ship.

"Would you take back that moment?"

She scoffed. "When did you become a therapist?"

"Answer the question."

"Why?"

"Because it'll make me feel better." The words were laced with sarcasm, but Sara heard the truth in them.

"I wouldn't have regretted it," she said on sigh.

"Mmm," his gravelly voice accompanied him as he stood to his feet and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

He looked her over, analyzed her features, particularly the creases on her face and gave her a humorless grin.

"Off to my next therapy session."

"Not going to try to pull more out of me?" she asked, one brow raised.

"I think I've got all I need."

And then he was gone and she was sinking against the wall, thinking about things she didn't want to think about; dwelling on feelings she didn't want to feel; angry at herself for being more upset by Leonard's death now than she had been about Laurel's when she'd first heard. When Leonard died, a few tears seeped out. When her father told her about Laurel, she'd completely broken down.

Yet still…

"I didn't love him," she said aloud to the empty room, giving no reasons behind her defiant claim – not that he was a criminal, not that he was a jerk, not that he was selfish; how could she when he'd saved all their lives?

"But I could have," she whispered; because that was the reason.

The future Leonard had implied he might want with her, she hadn't really thought over. Now there was no point dwelling on it, but the silence in her solitude spelled out the two words she wouldn't utter.

What if?

…

A/N: Not exactly sure how in-character it is for these two to open up to each other, but when I was writing it, I heard the actors' voices, so I take that as a good sign. Hope you enjoyed.

Happy reviews are love.