I was working on "Time & Tide" and got sidetracked by the whole "what if Leonard had been stop in the '50s in season 1 too?" question.

So I wrote it.

This is my Valentine to the CC/Legends fandom. Enjoy! (Five chapters planned.) Thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta.

Later, she'll ask Len why he decided to come meet them, to leave the Waverider and cross the field toward them, his expression closed off in the way it'd been since they'd left Mick, but just a little bit of…something…glimmering in his eyes as he looks at her.

He'll shrug, when she asks, eyes holding hers again for a moment, then slipping away.

"Not sure," he'll say, studying the wall of the motel room intently. "Needed some fresh air, I guess."

She'll ask again, sometime later. That time, the answer will be different.

But that's still in the future.

At any rate, for whatever reason, he's by her side when they hear the ship's engines fire, when they all watch incredulously as it starts to rise. As she starts to run, he keeps pace, and when she stops after only a few steps, he's there too.

Ray gapes at the sky as the Waverider vanishes. Kendra's eyes are wide. Sara looks at Len and sees a fleeting flash of surprise there before his walls slam back up.

"Where did they go?" Ray asks out loud, his tone baffled.

"Better question: Why did they leave us?" Sara retorts as they stare at the sky.

"Gotta feeling they didn't want to." They all look at Snart, who's frowning at nothing in particular. After a second, he shakes his head roughly and focuses on them.

"Whatever happened, we need to get out of here," he growls, turning and casting around. For what, Sara's not sure.

Ray shakes his head in response. "We just need to stay calm. They'll be back."

"They're not coming back." Sara's responded before she even realizes she's going to say the words. She shrugs as Ray and Kendra look at her, trying to fight down an unpleasant surge of panic and hurt. "Snart's right. Let's go."

Ray's chin goes up. "Look, as a former Eagle Scout with over 100 merit badges... no big deal... the first rule of getting lost is to stay in the same place," he insists. "That way, you can be found."

Sara starts to respond, but Len's hiss interrupts her.

"Survivor, Raymond, remember?" he says in a low tone, staring at the other man a moment before flicking his eyes back to Sara. "Sara?"

There's both a note of apology for the interruption and a request for backup in the one-word question, and Sara spares just a second to wonder how they read each other so well before she complies with the latter.

"As a former member of the League of Assassins," she tells Ray, just a touch acerbically, "the first rule when you've been attacked is to keep moving."

"I sort of think League wisdom trumps the Eagle Scouts here," Kendra cuts in, with a glance of apology at Ray. "Plus, Savage is still out there."

Ray keeps protesting, but Leonard's already moving, heading for a nearby lot, and Sara catches up to him, leaving Kendra to deal with the sputtering scientist.

"Car?" she asks in a low tone.

"Mmhmm." He glances at her. "Whatever happened, I don't think it's a good idea to stay where Savage is. Especially not with Kendra with us. We've seen what he'll do to get his hands on her. And he seems to be able to sense her."

"True." Sara bites her lip, thinking. "Just get outta Harmony Falls, then figure out where else?"

"Yeah. Got some thoughts on that." He shrugs as she glances at him. "You think I wouldn't get the lay of the land before we got here?"

I think you've been the next best thing to a ghost since…whatever happened with Mick. But she doesn't say it. And she's still trying to keep her mind on the problem at hand so she doesn't think too hard about why the Waverider left, when it'll be back, if it'll ever be back…

"Right," is all she says as they zero in on a lonely red Dodge at the edge of the lot. "I got this."

Len looks duly impressed at her ability to hotwire a car, and Sara tries not to look at the delinquent watching her avidly as she makes a quip about dating delinquents to Kendra. She waves him into the driver's seat –he's the one who's studied the maps, after all, and it is 1958—and claims shotgun, both of them ignoring Ray's protests.

Although Sara knows that Harmony Falls is no worse than many other areas at this time—and probably better than some—she feels her shoulders relax just a tiny bit when they cross the city limits. Gazing out the window, she silently wishes Lindsay luck, even as a tiny part of her is glad to have the temptation posed by the other woman removed.

Ray and Kendra argue quietly in the back seat. Leonard drives on, in silence.

He stops only four times that day: once while they're cutting through another nearby city, only to vanish into a general store with only a terse command to "wait." Sara watches as he emerges a few moments later, holding a small bag, just in perfect time to bump into a self-important-looking man in a suit who's walking by. They both carry on with apologies, but Sara's smirking as he slides into the driver's seat again, tossing both the bag and a black leather wallet into her lap.

"You didn't." Ray sounds horrified.

"Multitasking, Raymond." Leonard starts the car again, pulling away from the curb smoothly. "We need to ditch this car, get one that's legit, and we need money. He was heading for the bank down the street. It was a decent bet."

Sara checks the wallet and nods in satisfaction at the cash in it. Between the four of them, they actually have a decent sum on them—between the money of the time Rip makes them carry "just in case" and a little money Len had apparently "acquired" in Harmony Falls, to the surprise of no one. (Just to keep his hand in, he says.) But it's going to go fast, and he's also right about the car.

"But…but…what if he needed that money? To pay for his mortgage or something? What if he has kids? What…"

"Him or us, Raymond." Len's voice is terse. "Got a better idea?"

Ray doesn't, although Sara can see the hangdog expression in his eyes via the rearview mirror. She glances at Leonard and sees the lines of tension around his own eyes, the straight line of his mouth. He's not precisely happy with this either, she thinks, but he's right. What else are they going to do?

The panic starts to rise again and she pushes it down, ruthlessly.

Next, they stop again at a small-town car dealership that's pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and Leonard promptly vanishes into the office with the burly man who approaches the vehicle. Sara recognizes his attempt to keep the rest of them out of the man's view and nods to herself. After a moment's thought, she turns in her seat to hold a low conversation with Kendra as Ray sulks just a bit in his seat.

She can't blame him, in some ways. The lack of control of this whole situation is infuriating, frustrating. But the Boy Scout worldview isn't going to help them here. Well, maybe it would help Ray…just not the rest of them.

By the time Len and the salesman emerge, Sara reads their gestures (she's pretty sure Len's telegraphing his for their benefit) and judges that he's traded their Dodge for an even more nondescript sedan parked nearby. Not a fair trade, and she's pretty sure he's given the man a bit more cash for his silence, but since the salesman comes out of it ahead, it should be as safe as it can be.

Still. After a moment, Sara gets out of the car and saunters toward the salesman, drawing his eyes to her as Kendra drags Ray from the old car and into the new one. She catches a flicker of approval in Leonard's eyes and a smirk on his face as he registers her distraction. He takes her arm in an almost proprietary fashion, giving the salesman something else to focus on and a story to extrapolate from the whole situation.

And people tend to stick to the stories they make up for themselves. The crook and the assassin know that.

As they pull away in the new car, Sara sees the salesman pulling the old license plates off the Dodge. Good.

In the next larger town, they stop a third time, with Len telling/asking Ray to run into a drug store to grab sandwiches for them all.

"We can't get something more substantial?" the other man asks a bit plaintively. "There's a diner over there…"

But Len cuts in again as the scientist's voice trails off.

"You do realize, Raymond, that, in this era, there are places that might not…look kindly…on the four of us eating a meal together on the premises." His tone is as dry as dust. "And since we don't know what's safe and what isn't—and Savage, if he tries to track us, will be looking for a unique group such as ourselves—it's better if we stay out of the public eye."

Ray blinks, but Kendra's nodding, a certain wry twist to her mouth.

"I remember," she says simply. "Ray, Harmony Falls really wasn't that bad, in many ways. There were looks, and comments, but…" She shakes her head. "And we're trying to stay more under the radar, now, just in case Savage tracks us. Snart's right."

Ray gets the sandwiches. Len doesn't even rub it in.

When they stop again, it's late, well past sunset. Even Sara, used to going without sleep, is exhausted, and she's pretty sure Ray and Kendra have pretty much nodded off in the back seat. She glances at Len again as he parks the car in a motel parking lot, noting the tell-tales of weariness in his expression

"I know we need to conserve cash, but get two rooms if you can, Raymond," he says, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. "We need to sleep and that ain't gonna work well if all four of us are crammed in one room."

Ray, still blinking drowsiness out of his eyes, opens his mouth, then closes it, nodding. He heads for the lit-up office without another word. After a moment, Kendra murmurs that she's going to stretch her legs and climbs out of the car herself.

Sara draws in a deep breath, holds it a few seconds, then lets it out, trying to send some tension with it. She'd been a little worried Len meant to drive all night, and she could have understood why.

The silence stretches, there in the car, and Sara tries rather desperately not to think about their situation. About her increasing conviction that the ship isn't coming back, about what sort of place she can find for herself in 1958, about…

"How you holdin' up?"

Sara blinks as the quiet words tear into the frantic circle of her thoughts…which is, she realizes, precisely why he'd spoken. She glances over at Leonard again and sees the understanding there before he conceals it behind his usual walls.

"OK," she says finally. "Well…that's probably an overstatement. I'm…trying not to think too hard about it."

And there's the understanding again.

"Same," he admits, and she knows Leonard well enough at this point to realize how rare that sort of admission is. She's even more surprised when he continues. "Right now, it's still survival mode. Food, transportation, sleep…someplace safe for all of us to go to ground…" Sara watches his fingers flex on the steering wheel. "Eh. One thing at a time."

Sara nods, studying his face in the shadows. "Don't take this the wrong way," she says suddenly, "but I'm glad you're here."

His eyes, gray in the darkness, dart to hers, but after a second, the honest surprise in them is buried in amusement, and a slight edge of cynicism.

"Raymond may be a genius," he drawls, "but he's not that practical. And far too honest. My skill set…and yours, I'm sure…work better with the whole subterfuge thing."

That's not quite what she'd meant…or at least, not all she'd meant, but Sara lets it go. She peers around Leonard, watching Ray step out of the motel office and head back toward them. He's smiling.

"Looks like he has two keys," she points out, then glances back at Len, making a decision.

"Wanna let the lovebirds have a room?" she asks lightly. "They've gotten used to playing house, and I don't think I want to deal with it."

Len leans his head back against the seat, eyeing her, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

"Thank god," he mutters after a few beats. "I was worried you might make me bunk with the Boy Scout."

Sara snorts at him, perfectly willing to take refuge in snark for the moment. "I really don't want you taking the car and heading for the hills in the middle of the night because you've had enough of the Ray Palmer approach to life," she tells him. "I'm not sure what I'd do if you left me alone with the lovebirds. Lose my mind, probably."

Again, they're joking but not joking. And both of them know it.

Len stares at her in the shadows. "I'd ask you to go with me," he says suddenly, tone split between the sardonic sort of humor they've both been using and utter sincerity. "If I did."

Sara swallows. "Promise?" she asks, again, lightly.

He doesn't get a chance to respond, though, because Ray's tapping on the car window, looking pleased with himself. Leonard sighs and gives Sara a speaking glance before popping the door and getting out. Smiling a little, Sara follows suit.

Kendra, who's been walking through the lot and looking out at the lights of the nearby city, walks back over too, smiling at Ray, who beams at her.

"I got two rooms!" he says, holding up the keys. "But…"

Leonard's snatched one from his hand before he even finishes speaking, noting the number on the fob and turning for the motel. "Excellent," he drawls. "Go get some sleep. We have to keep moving tomorrow and I'm not waiting around because you and Bird Girl got frisky and aren't rested."

Ray sputters behind him, protesting, but Sara just winks at the grinning Kendra and follows Len as he strolls down the row of rooms. She glances over her shoulder just in time to see Ray and Kendra vanishing into another one of them, but nearly bumps into Len, who's opened No. 9 and stopped in his tracks in the doorway. Shaking her head, she peers around him.

The room seems clean enough, if spartan.

And there's just one king bed in it.

Sara makes a small, amused noise at the sight and Len's reaction, then worms her way around him, walking in to the room to drop with a sigh on the edge of the bed and kick off her heels. Weariness overtakes her and she closes her eyes for a moment, letting herself relax a little as she ponders what to say.

After a moment, she decides to go with pure matter-of-factness.

"Can you keep your hands to yourself?" she asks Len, opening her eyes to see the no-shit look he levels at her and then smiling at it. "Then we're fine. We're both adults."

He looks like he's not quite convinced, but he also looks like he's very nearly ready to pass out. After a moment, he shrugs, dropping down onto the bed himself, then stretching out with a sigh and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Want the bathroom first?" he asks, voice muffled.

Sara considers. "Yeah. Thanks." She glances around, then grabs the small bag from their earlier stop, the store Len had used as a blind of sorts from which to pick a target. Practical as always, he'd also purchased toothbrushes, toothpaste, combs, and some soap. She'd passed Ray and Kendra theirs earlier. "And thanks for this, too."

"No problem." His arm is still over his face. "Being trapped in a car with Raymond is bad enough. I don't need morning breath times four, too."

But however snarky the words are, the gesture was a true one…and it's appreciated. Sara turns for the bathroom with a smile on her face, allowing him his subterfuge.

By the time she emerges, breathing a sigh of relief at the feeling of having been able to scrub up, he's waiting for the bathroom himself, slipping inside without a word of acknowledgement.

Sara shrugs, then efficiently strips out of her skirt and blouse, peeling the stockings and accompanying garters off with another sigh of relief and pondering the best way to sleep comfortably and not potentially freak out the notoriously body-shy Snart. Not that it's her body he seems to be shy of—he hasn't precisely hidden his admiration of it, and in another time and place she'd consider laying across the bed in her underwear and the stockings just to see his reaction. But they're both on edge, and he's become too good a friend to mess with in such a gratuitous way, especially now that they're relying on each other in a way they've never had to rely on each other before.

Fifties women's undergarments are pretty voluminous, and Gideon tends to scold them about maintaining authenticity, just in case one of them is injured and, well, stuck in another time. So Sara's wearing the rather—extensive-underwear the AI had recommended, as well as a full slip that she's actually quite fond of. She'd gone against authenticity and kept her sports bra, which is in itself reasonably modest, and decides it's comfortable enough to stay.

Yawning, she crawls under the bedspread, glad the room is relatively warm, and waits for Len. She could use the conversation, even if it's just a few minutes of their habitual snark and innuendo.

He emerges after few more minutes, pausing only a moment as he sees her curled up under the covers. She can see him drag in a breath before he stoops to remove his shoes, after which he crosses the room to make sure the door is locked and flick off the light.

Then he drops onto the far side of the bed—still wearing jeans and black sweater and more, pretty much every layer he has except his coat.

Sara stares at him a moment, eyes growing accustomed to the darkness that's barely illuminated by the faint light coming in from the parking lot.

"Don't be an idiot," she says finally. "You can't sleep in that."

The silence from his side of the bed is mutinous.

"I'm serious, Snart." Sara sighs. "Look. At least take off some of those layers. T-shirt and boxers?" Even as she speaks, she realizes there's no damned way he wears boxers. Not underneath those skinny jeans. (And OK, so maybe she's guilty of watching his ass, too.)

After a pause, she continues. "Keep the lights off, I'm not going to be a jerk about it. Take a sheet and wrap up in it if you want. OK? You spent the whole damned day driving. Get comfortable."

She keeps her tone matter of fact, and after a moment, she hears a sigh from the far side of the bed. Len rises and pads back into the bathroom. After a few minutes, he returns, and in the faint light she can see the skin he keeps so diligently covered, forearms and shins and knees, although he's still somewhat covered by a T-shirt and, apparently, briefs.

He pauses a moment, then slips under the covers himself, murmuring a quiet "night" and rolling over to face away from her.

He trusts her enough to do that. Doesn't matter than the lights are off. Doesn't matter that they're both covered. He trusts her.

Sara sighs again, and then closes her eyes, letting her exhaustion carry her off to sleep.

Unfortunately, she dreams.

Despite his unease with his current state of undress—and to be frank, his unease in a completely different way with the state of undress he's pretty sure Sara's in—Len falls asleep nearly immediately. He's just too damned tired, and he's been in too much of a hyperaware state ever since he realized the Waverider was lifting off without them.

Longer than that, probably. But he's not going to think about that.

He's not sure how long he sleeps before he finds himself awake again, groggily staring at the ceiling while his brain decides to present him with everything he should be thinking about and everything he doesn't want to think about.

He doesn't want to think about how he's lost his cold gun, left behind on the Waverider when he'd decided to walk out to meet Sara…the others.

He doesn't want to think about how now he has no way to go back for Mick. Something he swore to himself he'd find a way to do. (Mick will cool down. He always does. He just needs time. Right?)

He doesn't want to think about never seeing Lisa again.

He doesn't want to think about why he feels so stupidly responsible for Raymond and Kendra and…well, not precisely Sara, who's a survivor every bit as much as he is, but he won't, can't turn his back on her. And he doesn't want to think about why he feels that way, either, he thinks uneasily.

He even doesn't want to think about the others on the ship, the kid and the professor and even the Brit, doesn't want to wonder if they've alive or dead.

About how they might never be back.

His thoughts are chasing themselves in circles so much that it takes a minute or two, maybe longer, for him to realize what else he's hearing, there in the quiet of the room, outside the turmoil in his own head.

Sara is crying. Nearly silently, trying desperately to conceal it, but she's weeping, breath ragged and desperate.

Why? Because she's been trying not to think about all these things too? Because she's let herself acknowledge she might never see her sister, her parents, again? Because this time hates nearly everything about who she is and what she's made of herself?

And then, lying there in the dark, Leonard Snart realizes with a good deal of bemusement that he can let Sara Lance cry herself out alone about as much as he could have abandoned her back in Harmony Falls. Or about as much as he could have taken a side that didn't include her, back on the ship, when Mick blew everything to pieces.

Which is to say, he can't.

Trying not to think about it too hard, he rolls over, facing her across the expanse of the bed, and tentatively reaches out a hand, clearing his throat in warning before he lets his fingertips brush against her shoulder.

"Sara?" he whispers. "Sara."

Sara lets out a strangled breath, tensing, then relaxes, deliberately. He listens to her breathe for another moment, then she sighs.

"M'OK," she whispers. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't."

It shouldn't take much to realize he's having trouble sleeping, too, and she does, he's pretty sure, turning to look at him, expression unreadable in the dim light.

He hesitates, then reaches out to touch her shoulder again, feeling like he's dreaming, and in a dream, this is OK, right? It's not a big deal to drag his fingertips down her arm, to tentatively, cautiously, wrap his hand around hers, to tug her gently toward him.

"C'mere," he whispers. "I mean…if you want to."

His grip is barely worthy of the name, really, and it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to break it, to stay where she is, if his comfort, his presence, aren't something she wants or welcomes. He still can't quite believe he's doing this, actually, and he's already regretting being so…so damned soft… and…

And with a sigh like she's laying down a burden, Sara moves into his arms with a stifled sob, her own arms going around his shoulders, hands gripping the soft fabric of his T-shirt like she's never going to let him go. She buries her face in his collarbone and he can feel the heat of her tears on his skin even as his arms go around her, one hand buried in her hair, the other arm wrapped around her waist.

It's too much contact. And yet…it's not. It's oddly OK, here in the dark, where they can both almost pretend they're dreaming, that this whole damn thing is just a nightmare and they can chase each other's demons away just by their presence, by being there for each other in the night.

But it's not a dream. They're going to have to get up in the morning, and keep surviving, keep moving. Keep adapting to a time neither one of them ever really wanted any part of. Keeping hoping that somehow, the ship will come back for them.

Neither of them wants to think about it.

But at least, Len thinks, gently, combing his fingers through Sara's hair as her breathing evens out and he finally starts to drift off himself, at least they're not alone.