This, no joke, started with a dream. Set in an AU in which no one died at the Oculus, Miranda and Jonas lived, and Rip promised to return for the Legends-and hasn't, yet.
Happy birthday to the world's best beta reader, LarielRomeniel!
It's hard for Sara not to think about what-ifs, these days.
What if Rip never comes back to 2016, never fulfills his promise to recruit the Legends as his first new batch of Time Masters? After they'd defeated Savage and rescued Miranda and Jonas, he'd vowed to do so as soon as his wife and son were settled in somewhere safe, given them all a cheery (Rip! Actually cheery!) wave before boarding the Waverider and departing.
But it's been more than two months and there's been no word, no sign. The Legends have dispersed, back to their separate homes and possibly beyond, and while she gets a text from Jax or Ray now and again, it's easy to see how they're all drifting apart, how one "lost assassin" could so easily be forgotten. Stuck here, with an ex who's busy being mayoral, friends who still have a calling, and a father who sees her sister every time he looks at her.
She'd thought L...some of them might, at least, have understood.
Sara gives the bar one more wipe with the cloth, then sighs and leans back against the register, closing her eyes. The bar is quiet now, far too early for even the regulars. It's better when things are busy; she doesn't think as much, doesn't wonder, doesn't have to talk herself down from going to visit her former teammates and...
"So...what's on tap?"
At the very first sound of that oh-so-familiar drawl, her eyes fly open, darting to the end of the bar and the tall man slouching on a bar stool. She hadn't even heard him come in, let alone take a seat, and in other circumstances, she'd start to get a little worried about how her skills are waning.
Instead, she just feels an odd sensation pulling at the corners of her mouth. It takes a second to realize what it is.
She's smiling.
"You better not be planning to rob us, Crook," she tells him casually, crossing to where he's lounging and leaning onto the bar surface next to him. "I happen to know you don't want to mess with the bartender. She'll kick your ass."
"Wouldn't think of it," he says smoothly, tilting his head. "Got a friend who works here. I think."
A friend. And damned if he's not smiling too. A real smile, and not that irritating Snart smirk.
It looks good on him.
Best not to let that show on her face; she locks it down ruthlessly and sits on it. Whatever had driven him to drop that "me and you" on her at the Vanishing Point, he'd never stolen his kiss, had walked away from her after Savage's defeat without...well, there had been a backward glance, a long and intense one. But he hadn't said anything, and neither had she, and now it's two months later.
She'd nearly kissed him, at the Oculus, in those terrifying moments between the time he'd taken the Oculus failsafe and the time Ray had flown back in with something to jam in the mechanism. She still has nightmares about those moments. Best not to let that show either.
But she needs to say something, because Leonard's smile has drifted away, and whatever expression she's wearing, he's looking almost uncertain now at her continued silence.
"A friend," he'd said. Well, if nothing else, she can be that.
"It's good to see you," she tells him quietly, meeting his eyes and trying to project her own sincerity. "I've missed you." A beat. "Well. The whole team, really. You know what I mean."
A blink, a pause, and then the smile's back, mostly anyway. "Well, I don't know," he drawls again, drawing circles on the bar top with a finger. "Raymond won't go away so I can miss him."
Sara snorts in amusement. "How's he settled in? Still working with Team Flash?"
"Annoying so." He shrugs. "All that goody-goody optimism in one place...it's even more infuriating than usual."
"Well, you could stop bothering them." She knows he's still making it common practice to let himself in to STAR Labs on a regular basis, because Ray has told her so.
That gets her a wide-eyed, mock-innocent look. "Now...what fun would that be?"
Sara starts to retort again, grinning, then pauses as two of the early birds come in and stand at the opposite end of the bar. With a nod to Leonard, she saunters down to get them each a drink, then flags down the waitress on duty as they both choose to sit at a table for a bite to eat.
Then she draws Leonard a beer—remembering the sort he likes from long hours playing cards on the Waverider—and sets it in front of him, checking her hip against the side of the bar.
"How's Mick?" she asks, folding her arms. "I haven't heard of any fires in Central lately..."
That gets her a snort, even as he takes a sip of the beer. "He's fine, and so is Central City. Mick...isn't bored yet. We all got enough of a cut from Savage's ill-gotten gains that he's still keeping himself in wine, women, and song...or some combination thereof. Sometimes he even joins Raymond in visiting STAR Labs. That's amusing."
Sara looks at him shrewdly, not taking the bait. "And you?" she asks. "Bored?"
Leonard eyes her, that smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. "Out of my mind," he admits candidly, after a moment. "You?"
What's the point in lying? "Same."
They watch each other for a few moments, then Sara sighs, giving him another small smile. "You think he's still coming back?" she asks, knowing that Leonard, of all people, won't give her the optimistic platitudes that Ray and sometimes even Jax are prone to. "Rip?"
Leonard frowns into his beer, then shrugs, glancing back up at her.
"Don't know," he admits. "We both know that time travel isn't always as...precise...as the good captain would have us believe. And I may be a cynical bastard..." He smirks as Sara nods vigorously. "...but he's got his wife and kid back and he might be distracted." His expression is a very Snartlike mix of cynicism and amusement. "And let's admit it, we're not necessarily what the old Time Bastards would have wanted as their successors." He nods back at her. "He might have thought better of it."
"You have a point." Just to have something to do with her hands, Sara moves to wet the towel down and starts wiping the counter again. Impossible not to think about this being her future, she thinks glumly: assassin-turned-bartender. She's even trying to stay away from patrolling the city, in deference to Oliver's new role and the status quo. She could leave the city, but...
When she glances at him, Leonard looks lost in thought, eyes distant. If she's having issues trying to figure out what to do next, what is he contemplating? He still scowls at every mention of the word "hero," but is he really still a crook?
She doesn't think so.
"What will you do?" she asks, leaning against the counter and lowering her voice. "If he doesn't? Back to a life of crime and fighting the Flash instead of simply being a pain in his ass? Probably a little rusty on planning heists, aren't you?"
Her words jar him out of his reverie and earn her a pair of raised eyebrows but not the frown she'd been expecting.
"What makes you think I haven't?" he drawls, tilting his head again.
"Well, you don't usually work alone, and you just pretty much said Mick's not working with you right now," Sara informs him. "It probably would have taken you longer to put a good team together after being out of town a while. And I've been keeping an eye on headlines, and there hasn't been anything even remotely worthy of you." She points a finger at him as he smirks. "And if you were in the middle of something, you wouldn't be here right now."
Leonard just gives her one of those looks from underneath his lashes and sips his drink.
She hesitates, nibbling her bottom lip. "What does bring you here, anyway?" she asks finally, voice pitched even lower. "Not that I'm not glad to see you. But Central's your home, and it's been nine weeks, and..." And I thought you'd forgotten about me. "...and I guess I'm just wondering."
At her words, his face grows serious again, and he glances away, then back, in an oddly uncertain gesture. And Sara has the abrupt impression that he's almost a little nervous.
The last time he'd seemed nervous around her...
"Actually," he says, eyes meeting hers in a way that is, indeed, strangely reminiscent of that moment in her room at the Vanishing Point, a realization that sends a shiver down her spine, "I wondered if you might be up for...a little trouble."
Of course, Leonard-goddamned-Snart can't ask a woman out like a normal human being. That would be boring.
"Now, that sounds interesting," she manages, folding her arms and leaning on the counter right in front of him, putting them more eye to eye. "What sort of trouble? I take it you need backup?"
Leonard appears to be very interested in his drink again, then glances back up. "I need...a partner," he says quietly. "Someone I can trust. You interested?"
Of course he hadn't driven all the way here just to see how she was doing, or to ask her to go to dinner—or to steal that kiss. Sara smirks at him, hiding the rush of disappointment even as she welcomes the idea of some sort of action. "Maybe," she says, matching his drawl. "Where?"
He glances meaningfully around, then back at her, raising an eyebrow.
He obviously doesn't mean the bar. "You..." Sara glances around too, then leans forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You want me. Me, the daughter of a former SCPD detective. Me, the friend of the mayor and resident vigilante. Me, to help you pull off a caper in Star City."
Did she imagine that tiny hesitation?
Then: "Bingo," Leonard tells her solemnly. "You in?"
Sara stares at him, then glances around the bar. At the regulars, who've been in at almost the exact same time every day since she'd started; at Maria, the waitress, a family friend who'd told her about the opening here. She thinks about the future of an assassin-turned-bartender.
About slowly losing her mind.
She throws the towel down on the bar and grins at him.
"Damned right I am."
He always has a plan. He should have had a plan.
He didn't have a plan.
To himself and himself alone, Leonard Snart will admit that he'd hopped on his motorcycle and driven more than 600 miles to Central City on...a whim.
Because Raymond had said Sara seemed lonely, and bored, and Leonard—also bored and maybe a little lonely too—had started wondering if, just maybe, his presence would be appreciated after all, despite cold guns and hell of a thief and, well, everything.
He doesn't do whims, or at least he never has. But that's precisely what it was, and deep inside, he'll admit that it was worth it the moment Sara had opened her eyes, seen him, and smiled in that way that'd seemed like she'd been waiting to see him for the past two months.
Leonard shifts a little, uncomfortably, remembering. His...well, he supposes it's his heart, although other body parts had gotten involved as well...had done this odd little flip-flop thing at that smile.
He's in trouble. He's in so much trouble.
It's not like he does stuff like dating, he thinks with irritation. He can be forgiven for hesitating at the notion of simply asking her to dinner, right? That's just not their kind of thing. It's not so surprising that his mind had gone blank.
He'll admit that planning a heist with Sara sounds like fun, Leonard decides, rising to his feet as Sara emerges from the office and heads toward him, that warm and interested smile still on her face. Something far more them than the stupidly cliché dinner and a movie.
Now, he just has to come up with one.