Author's Note: Well, this was originally supposed to be one of the last chapters of "Somewhere on Your Road Tonight." However, now that I've arrived at that point, it feels like it's better as an interlude in that story, set between chapters 16 and 17. This original/first chapter has been very slightly updated, and I'll be posting two new chapters soon here before resuming the end of "Somewhere." Thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta!

You'll probably understand this better if you've read "Chances Are," "19 Gabriel Drive" and "Somewhere on Your Road Tonight" up to this point!

"My sister nearly died, and you were going to tell me this when?!"

Rip takes a careful step back, swallowing, then sighs, holding up his hands. "Sara," he starts, "it's not that simple…"

"It sounds pretty damned simple to me!"

The captain glances around, but the rest of the team doesn't look very supportive. Mick, leaning against the holotable, is actually smirking. Kendra and Ray, neither of whom is very happy about being delayed in visiting their young son at the Refuge, are simply watching, and even the Boy Scout's eyes are a bit stony. (Leonard's reminded that the scientist and the former barista know Laurel Lance and the rest of Team Arrow.) Stein looks concerned, but Jax just looks pissed, and Leonard's pretty sure it's on Sara's behalf.

Hunter gives Leonard himself an odd look then, but while Len's standing right at Sara's side, ready to call her back to herself if necessary, he's not real inclined to do so yet. Coming off his own near-miss at the Vanishing Point—even if Sara doesn't know that yet-he's feeling a little sensitive to all the former Time Master's plots and evasions. He'd been prepared to make the sacrifice so Raymond's kid wouldn't grow up without a dad, but that doesn't mean he'd particularly wanted to die, either.

Sara's giving Hunter a moment, but she's still standing there staring him down, eyes blazing, hands in fists at her sides. Len can't blame her. If it was his sister…well.

The captain heaves another sigh, then closes his eyes, seeming to prepare himself. When he speaks, though, it's not quite what either Leonard or Sara had expected.

"The thing is," he starts quietly, "that's not what the original…situation was…"

"He's lucky you only decked him."

Sara sighs as she gets off the motorcycle behind Len, pulling her helmet off and shaking out her hair before looking up at the building before her. After a moment, she turns to look at him as he makes sure the bike is duly locked up and secured before moving to her side.

"I know," she tells him. "But…Laurel's alive. And she wasn't supposed to be. So I can't help wondering why and just being grateful."

Leonard studies her a moment, then nods. There's really not much else to say.

Sara looks back at Star City Hospital, where Laurel Lance is currently at a doctor's appointment, according to Sara's father, who's in the waiting room. Since Hunter's given them a few days to be sure they want to continue in the quest to kill Savage (and while he takes Jonas to Refuge and picks up their own younger selves to return them to the timeline), they probably could have waited for the pair to leave the hospital. But Sara hadn't wanted to, feeling the need to see her sister as soon as possible. Leonard gets that. It doesn't mean he doesn't have his own qualms about this meeting, but…he gets it.

"Thanks for coming with me," she says quietly then, interrupting his thoughts. "It means a lot. I didn't want to do this alone."

The words, which Len might have sneered at uncomfortably months ago, before, before 1958 and Chronos and the Vanishing Point, draw a slight smile even as he tries to dodge the sentiment a little. "Well," he tells her in a mock-serious tone, reaching out to squeeze her fingers in a distinctly unSnartlike manner, "maybe it will distract your dad from the fact that you brought home a crook. Or distract your sister. Or your ex. Either ex."

Sara snorts at him as they walk toward the front doors, unfooled. "I've brought home worse. And you're a card-carrying hero now, remember? You saved time and free will."

Leonard shrugs uncomfortably. At least Sara seems to have semi-forgiven him for what had nearly happened at the Vanishing Point—once he'd gathered the nerve to tell her. "I sorta had some help. And please stop using that word."

"Which one?"

"Sara…"

Quentin Lance has a lot to be thankful for, he knows.

Sure, it's been a rough few months. He'd lost his job. The city's been in chaos. His older daughter had been badly injured and nearly died.

But…he's still here. Still kicking. Still off the booze. And Laurel's still here, too, getting stronger and steadier and healthier. It could have gone another way, he knows, so easily.

Still. He leans his head back against the battered vinyl of the waiting room chair and sighs. He hates hospitals.

"Daddy!"

But things just got a whole lot better.

He's on his feet even before Sara reaches him, moving faster than he'd have believed he could a moment ago, wrapping his arms around his younger daughter and holding her tightly as she in turn buries her face in his shoulder. He'd known she said she was coming today, but he hadn't gotten his hopes up, knowing that whatever this cockamamie mission she's been off on, it apparently hasn't been that conducive to visits home.

But here she is, whole and to all appearances healthy, thriving in a way he hasn't seen since before…before. Yes, the day just got a whole lot better.

Eventually, Sara pulls away, wiping her eyes a little, and Quentin pretends he doesn't need to do the same, finally noticing the tall man who'd entered with his baby girl.

A man that to Quentin's discerning paternal eye, isn't that much younger than he is. The short hair has its share of salt in among the pepper, as does the faint line of stubble. Watching them as he hangs back a little, the stranger looks profoundly uncomfortable in a way that screams both "I've seen your daughter in situations you don't even want to think about" to Quentin's paternal instincts and "I've seen the inside of a prison cell more than once" to his cop instincts.

Once, that particular combination would have gotten a distinctly different reaction. But now…well, no matter how uncomfortable this guy is, he's here. With Sara, in a situation that can't be easy for first meetings. That gets him lots of points. At the very least, it gets him a chance.

Yes, things have changed.

But, "Where is she?" Sara's asking. "Where's Laurel? Can I see her?"

Quentin stops eyeing the prison-bait boyfriend for a moment to look back at her.

"She's in the interior waiting area," he tells Sara. "You can go in, at least if the doc's not in with her yet." He shakes his head. "Laurel insisted she doesn't need her ol' dad to hold her hand at this point, so I stayed out here, but she'll be real happy to see you."

Sara bounces on her toes a moment, smiling, then turns for the door…only to pause and look back.

"Dad, this is Len," she says, motioning to the tall, quiet man. "Len, my dad." She winks. "Be nice to each other."

And then she's gone, through the door, and Quentin and…Len…look at each other. After a moment, the other man shuffles his feet a little in an oddly uncertain fashion.

"Gonna get some coffee," he says. "Want a cup?"

That actually perks Quentin up. The hospital's vending machine crap is…well, crap. It tastes rather like the cardboard the cup is made from.

"Sure," he allows. "Thanks. No sugar—oh, hell, one sugar—one cream."

Len nods and vanishes in a silent, almost ghostly way that reminds Quentin of the instincts that tell him the other man is a thief of some sort. He shrugs. Well, if the man comes back with decent coffee, he's willing to look the other way. For now.

The maybe-thief is back in a few minutes with Starbucks from down the street. Quentin nods in thanks and accepts it, then watches, sipping, in bemusement as Len methodically stirs a ridiculous amount of sugar into his black coffee and takes a swig himself.

For a bit, the two men just sit in silence, ingesting caffeine. Then Quentin, deciding he might as well get some of these preliminaries over with, tilts his head a little, studying the other man.

"So," he says, "you work with my daughter?"

The turn of phrase gets a faint chuckle. Len studies his coffee for a moment, then lifts and drops a shoulder in what might be a shrug.

"You could say that," the man says agreeably enough, a faint drawl in his voice. "We're on the same team. We fight together. We plan together. We…" He hesitates a moment. "Well. We make a good team."

"Ah." Quentin considers a moment, then decides to be a bit of a jerk. Well, he figures he's doing pretty well, all things considered, but he has to keep the upper hand in time-honored father fashion. "An' how long you been in love with her?"

Len's head jerks up and the man blinks at him in a way that's universal, whether you're talking about a sweaty-palmed teenager picking your daughter up for a movie or an almost-certainly-a-felon who's apparently somehow also some sort of a time-traveling hero. It's a look that's partly "oh-shit-so-busted" and part "oh-no-I'm-not-oh-yes-I-am."

Quentin snorts as the man blinks at him. "I know that look. You ain't just friends. An' I also know that this isn't the sort of thing you—well, lots of people, and I'm guessin' definitely you—just do for people you ain't pretty damned close to. Showing up out of nowhere to go to the hospital, of all places, and sitting here with someone who once might just have arrested you." He nods, satisfied, at the expression that crosses Len's face—yeah, definitely a former felon. "But you coulda let her come here alone. You didn't. Says a lot."

Having said his piece, he waits, drinking more coffee, as the other man digests his words. Finally, Len gives one of a those not-quite-a-shrugs again, glancing at him.

"No, I couldn't have," he says quietly, responding to Quentin's last few statements.

Quentin follows the words back, then shrugs himself. "And that there? That's exactly what I mean."

"Hmm."

But Len doesn't argue or disagree. Instead, he just applies himself to his coffee again, and the men sit in silence for a few long moments.

When the silence is broken again, it's an answer to an earlier question.

"If I told you," Len drawls, eyes on the muted TV playing a 24-hour-news channel across the room. "When. It might be sort of hard to believe."

Quentin eyes him. "Try me."

That actually gets a faint smirk, but not an actual answer. However, after another minute, he does hear a quiet "I think Sara's gotta be here for that."

Quentin acknowledges that with a nod. He's found himself liking this guy more than he'd expected, given the way the man looks at his baby girl. "So, you got a last name, Len…"

"Snart!"

Both men start, looking up at the front door and the woman standing there, frozen in surprise. Quentin, who'd forgotten Felicity had said she'd show up to check on them, stares at her for a moment before his brain catches up to the name she'd uttered.

"Snart? Leonard…Snart?" He turns his head to stare at his coffee companion. "The jewel thief? With the cold gun? The Flash's bad guy?"

The other man actually looks a touch sheepish, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I prefer 'nemesis,'" he mutters, sitting his coffee cup down and getting to his feet, making Felicity take a step back. There's no actual threat in the motion, though, so Quentin finishes his coffee and continues to merely observe. "Ms. Smoak. You're looking well."

"And you're…you're…oh, hell, you are too," the woman stutters, giving him a thorough once-over. "Um. Wait. Didn't Ol…someone say that you were on that mission with Ray and Sara?" She darts a glance at Quentin. "Is Sara here?"

This is actually getting sorta interesting. Quentin nods, leaning back to regard the scene. "In with Laurel." He nods toward Leonard. "He came with her. Good of him, I thought."

The other man glances at him with an odd, opaque expression, while Felicity digests that, staring at the thief and jumping to the semi-obvious conclusion. "Wait. You and Sara? I…"

But the door to the interior room opens, then, and the woman in question steps out, expression brightening when she sees them. "Felicity! I didn't know you were going to be here!" She takes a step forward and gives the startled woman a quick hug, then turns to Leonard, reaching out to take his hand, drawing expressions of bemusement from all three of them.

"She's already seen the doctor—who says she's doing well—and the surgeon, who's just going to talk to her, is running late," she tells him, tugging his fingers and stepping back toward the door. "I want you to meet Laurel, just briefly, without anyone else around." She winks at Felicity, who's still staring.

Leonard gives them one last glance before Sara pulls him through the door. Felicity continues to gape. Quentin just shrugs. This is his life now.

Could be worse.

Sara pulls Leonard down the hallway behind her, blowing past the nurses' station in a way that has him thinking with amusement about the old rule about acting like you belong somewhere, and how other people will assume you do, too. It's definitely a rule for a stealthy crook, and likely for assassins.

"Your friend there just, ah, ratted me out," he says carefully, even as he trails her. "To your dad."

Sara glances back at him as she keeps moving. "Felicity? Oh, that's right; you saw her in Central, didn't you? Way back in the beginning."

"You could say that…"

But she's stopped at a door now, and raps on it once, twice, before opening it a crack and peeking in. Whatever she sees, it makes her nod in satisfaction and step in, pulling Leonard behind her.

The woman sitting almost primly in the wheelchair in the room doesn't really look anything like Sara, no more than Lisa looks like him. Her face is a different shape, her eyes a different color, and her hair is darker. Still, there's something about them both that screams that these two are family. Maybe something around the eyes.

That and the considering, very big-sister look she's leveling at him. That too.

"Laurel," Sara says just a little breathlessly, "this is Leonard. Len, my sister Laurel."

The attorney and the crook regard each other. Len's pretty sure that between the awkwardness of meeting Sara's all-too-perceptive father and the surprise of Smoak dropping his identity right out there like that, he's already looking a little unsettled…or at least, not quite as chill as usual. But, for Sara, he meets Laurel Lance's steady gaze with something far more serious than his habitual smirk, squaring his shoulders and trying to look less…crook-like.

Laurel takes pity on him after a moment and smiles.

"Do you prefer Leonard?" she says, looking him up and down in a clinical sort of fashion. "Or Len?" Then, almost casually, "Mr. Snart."

Again with the identity. He glances at Sara, who looks unsurprised—well, her sister is an attorney as well as a superhero—then back at Laurel.

"Len is fine," he says. "Always pleased to meet a fan."

Laurel's lips twitch as Sara snorts. "I don't know that I'm a fan…yet," she returns. "Although I will say 'thank you' for being here with her." She nods at Sara, who's suddenly staring at her, looking a bit less comfortable. "It couldn't have been that easy, given different…backgrounds. I appreciate that."

Leonard looks back at Sara, briefly considering diverting the moment with his usual flippancy, then decides against it. "It wasn't really a question," he says quietly. "Been through a lot together. Take a long time to tell you how much."

Sara's eyes go soft, in a way that's distinctly unlike her, and for a moment, the long months together in 1958 are there with them, how they'd grown together, along with all the trials since and his near-miss at the Oculus. Len gazes back steadily, trying to put the words he's only managed to say a few times in his eyes, and wondering, yet again, how she'd respond to a certain particular…offer of partnership…

But there's someone else in the room with them, and Sara remembers it first, unsurprisingly. She glances back at Laurel, clearing her throat, and Len belatedly does so as well.

Laurel looks…well, she looks stunned, really, but not in a way Leonard had expected. There's a smile dancing in her eyes as she regards them and an oddly satisfied look on her face. She sighs, and then starts to speak…

There's another rap on the door then, and a woman in a white doctor's coat pushes it open.

Sara's dealt with a lot, over the years, and just kept going. But now, here, she's feeling just a bit of emotional whiplash. Seeing her father…and then Laurel, alive but still dealing with injury…knowing now that she would have, could have died…

And then there's the way Leonard had been looking at her just now, with the heart he'd once denied having in his eyes (in front of an audience, no less) and she's still dealing with nearly losing him at the Vanishing Point. Still wondering what's next for them. Still…

But now there's someone else there and she takes a deep breath, trying to center herself.

The doctor, if she notices the tension in the room, doesn't show it. "And how's my name twin today?" she says, looking at Laurel before eyeing the other two people in the room, who blink at her.

Laurel catches herself, chuckling a bit, and nods to the doctor. "Well, Dr. Harrington. Sorry, I have guests."

"I see. Well, they should head back out now." Her voice is kind, but the tone is definite. "This won't take very long."

But Sara knows she has a distinctly odd expression on her face as she studies the other woman, then glances at Len, who's frowning at her too. Dr. Harrington seems to notice their distraction and studies them in return.

With a very distinct set of green eyes, incongruous in her dark face.

"Dr. Harrington," Sara says after a moment, taking a leap of faith, suddenly frighteningly sure she knows a very important why. "This is sort of weird, but…what's your mother's name?"

The woman raises an eyebrow but apparently decides to indulge the odd question. "Amy," she says after a moment. "Amy May Harrington…I kept the surname when I married. Why…"

"And your full name?" Leonard's tone is maybe a little too direct, and the surgeon frowns at him, even as Sara's mind tumbles the pieces together.

Two small faces, brown with striking green eyes.

The newly dubbed Dorothy, Amy and Anne May … heading for the now-Starling City with a new life ahead of them.

"Changing even small things in time, it causes…ripples. And those ripples grow as they spread."

"Young Anne May went on to not only save lives, but to teach others to do so. … And her sister! Her two daughters…a trauma surgeon in Star City and a defense attorney in National."

"Dr. Laurel Anne Harrington," Sara's Laurel supplies, giving them a quizzical look. "Hence, 'name twin.' What's going on?"

"Do you have a sister?" a small voice asks in Sara's memory.

"I do," Sara confirms. "An older one. Her name is Laurel."

"That's a pretty name."

Rip's voice, earlier: "The thing is, that's not what the original…situation was…"

"Oh," Sara says, staring at the trauma surgeon who'd caught a problem no one else had and saved her sister's life. "Oh, I know what changed."

"We did," Leonard says quietly, moving to stand next to her, a solid, warm, reassuring presence. "Dr. Harrington. Did your grandmother or mother…or your aunt… ever mention their time in Orange City?"

When Leonard pushes the door open to the main waiting area, he's a little pleased to note that there is not, in fact, an array of armed police officers waiting for him. He'd read Sara's father right, then. And Smoak hadn't managed to convince the man otherwise.

She's still sitting there, next to Quentin Lance, who's leaning back again his seat and looking unperturbed, although Smoak still looks a little unsettled to see him. Or…maybe not unsettled. Maybe…intrigued? Both?

He turns back, holding the door as Laurel, expertly steering her chair, follows him. Sara had looked at the piece of equipment with unease, but her sister had laughed at her.

"For now, it lets me gets around," she said, patting it almost affectionately. "I get unsteady very quickly without it. It's freedom."

Leonard's found himself liking Laurel Lance quite a bit. She's pragmatic in a way he appreciates. And she loves her sister, and they have that in common.

"…so you…what? Met her family? While on your…ah, mission?" At the moment, though, she's still sounding rather surprised by their unexpected connection to Dr. Harrington, who'd known enough family lore to be stunned herself by what Len and Sara had told her—which wasn't everything but was enough. For now.

"It's even more complicated than that, actually. I'll tell you all about it." A shadow crosses Sara's face a moment as she follows her sister out into the waiting room, and Leonard knows she's thinking about what Rip had told them about the original timeline. "More or less." She shakes her head roughly as Laurel tilts her head back to regard her. "Not now."

Quentin stands at the sight of them, and if his gaze is a little sharper while fixed on the man his younger daughter had brought home, well, Len actually appreciates that the man gives a shit about his kids. His gaze drops as Sara reaches out and possessively takes Len's hand in hers, but then darts to Laurel with both worry and hope.

"Well?" he asks, trying for a casual tone and not quite managing it. "They have anything to say? I mean, I know I think you might want to take it a little easier…but that's just me…"

Laurel chuckles. "I'm doing absolutely fine, dad," she tells him gently. "And exercise is good. I'm building strength."

"Huh." The noise is noncommittal. "I don' know, honey, I worry…"

Leonard hastily steps back from the father-daughter debate as Sara comes to her sister's defense, nearly bumping into Smoak, who has, to his mild surprise, managed to sneak up on him. He folds his arms and tries to decide if it's better to look intimidating or approachable, but he's pretty sure he just winds up looking a little uncomfortable.

Smoak eyes him, then, unexpectedly, smiles.

"Well, well, well," she says in a voice that's almost an echo of his own drawl. "Fancy this. Last time I saw you, I certainly wouldn't have predicted this."

Len eyes her in return, uncertainly. He is, quite frankly, quite at a loss about how to handle this woman who's seen him in full alter-ego Cold mode. She could truly exert quite a bit of force in turning Sara's father against him…and he's found, a little unexpectedly, that he really doesn't want that, and not only for Sara's sake. He's pretty sure there's nothing Smoak could tell Sara about who he'd been that she doesn't already know—but he doesn't want to risk that, either.

"What's it gonna take for you not to tell your boyfriend about this before Sara does?" he drawls instead.

Felicity folds her arms in return and gives him a pitying look. "I wouldn't do that to Sara," she chides him. "You, maybe." She nibbles her lip a little. "I'm the last person to say people can't change, but you have to admit, this is a little…weird. When I last saw you, you were trying to kill Ba…the Flash. And now you're here. Weird."

"You can say that again," Leonard mutters fervently, then smirks.

"I wasn't trying to kill Barry Allen," he adds. "Yes, yes, I know who he is. And if I'd really been trying, he'd be dead." He raises his eyebrows at her expression. "And no vacuum cleaner with bells and whistles would have stopped me."

Felicity blinks at him, then sighs, almost smiling. "I told them…"

But Sara breaks in herself then, looking from her friend to her lover and back again. "You both behaving yourselves?" she asks with amusement.

"Yes!" Felicity says immediately, even as Len says "Nope" at the very same moment. Sara laughs as Felicity mock-glares at him, then takes his arm, turning them both as Quentin and Laurel watch with mixed amounts of amusement.

"You, ah, going to stick around a little bit?" Quentin asks, looking from Len to Sara and focusing on her. "Need a place to stay? Got the spare room…and a couch…"

Leonard tries not to let his feelings about that show on his face, even as Laurel smirks a little and Felicity giggles. Sara just squeezes his arm.

"We're going to get a hotel room," she tells her father breezily, "and yes, we'll be here at least another day or two." A hesitation. "The mission…it's not done yet. We're both going back."

Quentin makes a noise of disappointment as they all move for the door and out into the sunshine but Felicity and Laurel both nod.

"Of course you are," Sara's sister says quietly, steering her wheelchair through the door. "I'm glad you were able to visit, though."

"Same. But why in the middle of the mission?" Felicity wonders out loud, pausing as she starts to move off toward the guest lot. "Is everyone OK? Ray?"

Leonard's suddenly reminded that this woman used to date Ray Palmer, and he decides he's not going to be the one to tell her of the man's multiple changes in status. But Sara's arm tightens on his, and he glances at her, also remembering in part why Rip had insisted they get a break and be absolutely sure they're still in.

"Yes, but we had a really narrow miss," Sara says, the echoes of stress in her voice. "To make the story short, Leonard," she glances at him, "was a big damn hero and nearly got blown up. Rip…the captain…wanted to be sure we didn't have second thoughts."

The other three stare at them. Len shrugs uncomfortably. He didn't do it to be a hero, he thinks grumpily. It's just that someone had to.

But he also knows what Sara says about that.

"Stop using that word," he says in a joking tone to Sara, trying to defuse the tension in the air. "You know how I feel about that."

But while she smirks at him, there's remembered worry in her gaze, and he hates it. He brings his other hand up and squeezes her arm, trying to assure her that he won't, as he'd promised, try such a thing again.

"Damn," Quentin says finally, shaking his head. "I think we need to hear more about these adventures." He eyes Len, and there's a sparkle of admiration in his eyes that the former crook finds oddly warming. "Meet back at the house? Or…ah…the other place?"

"Give us a little while," Sara tells him, squeezing Len's arm in return. "But we'll be there. How about the other place? Since we don't have that long. Get a few meetings over with."

If any of them have any second thoughts about showing this criminal in their midst the secret Arrow lair—or so Len presumes that's what they're talking about—they don't show it. Quentin nods and moves off to get the car as Felicity hugs Sara, eyes Len again, and moves off to her own vehicle. Sara and Leonard wait with Laurel, who studies him with a considering look before smiling again.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," she murmurs to Sara, jokingly acting like Leonard can't hear her, "but I like him." Another low chuckle. "Does he have a brother?"

Leonard snorts at that, even as Sara laughs.

"Sort of," she says cheerfully. "What do you think, Len? What would Mick say?"

The sisters laugh at his expression so hard that Quentin, arriving at the curb, demands to know what's so funny.

They don't tell him. Yet.