"Now, I know it can be frustrating to be inactive." Rip's eyes traveled round the room, resting on two individuals in particular. "But we can't allow ourselves to resort to base humor."

The entire crew was gathered for their post-breakfast meeting. When they had a mission, it was usually schematics and planning, but in the Between, it was mostly just housekeeping. Ray and Kendra were sitting up straight in their jump seats, Martin stood on the end of the console, across from Rip. Jax was leaning on one of the chairs from behind.

Sara had slouched in her seat, wishing she'd pocketed Leonard's knife. Rip had been lecturing them for a good ten minutes already, and it was clearly aimed at herself. Having heard dozens of these types of lectures from her father, sister, and even Oliver, Sara was good at ignoring them. However, she had to give credit where credit was due. She was good.

Leonard was a pro.

Lounging in his seat with his foot propped up on his knee, he went beyond the bored indifference that Sara had perfected. His expression was one of open and clear disdain, staring at Rip with no hint of remorse, his eyes rolling up and the loud sigh painfully obvious that he could not care less.

Sara pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, watching Rip have a minor conniption through her lashes.

Jax snickered, Martin casting a glare at his partner. "I agree with Mr. Hunter. These pranks have been distracting."

"From what?" Ray piped up. "The endless abyss of nothingness?"

"Dark, Palmer." Leonard turned to regard the usually buoyant scientist. "I like it."

"Whether or not we have a mission, I expect you all to remain vigilant," Rip said. "Ms. Lance, you and Ms. Saunders could be training."

"We are," Kendra argued.

"There's always the option of more."

Sara scoffed, "Not without risking an injury. We've increased our spars already."

Rip visibly reigned in his temper. "Mr. Snart, you could be improving your cold gun."

"It's a cold gun. It freezes things. Think I've reached the limit, there." Leonard rose to his feet with a haughty look. "Face it, Rip. Master of Time, or not, you can't schedule every moment for us. The girls are training, Martin's been locked in his room doing who knows what."

"I've been trying to calculate where-"

"Don't care," Leonard cut in. "I've cased every inch of this ship. Jax has been keeping us flying, so to speak. You're planning. The only person who could have something to do is Ray."

"Excuse me?" Ray sounded offended.

"We've been honing our skills," Leonard explained. "You just let your suit do all the work for you. So unless you're improving that…my point stands."

Sara watched Ray's mouth gape soundlessly for three seconds, before he stuttered out, "I'm working on something big."

"Sure." Leonard's smile was condescending at best. He looked back at Rip. "If you're through with the lecture, there are more important things that require my time, Time Master."

Rip gaped soundlessly as Leonard walked out. The others took it as a signal to leave, though Ray needed some prodding from Kendra to get up and move. Seeing that she was the last one left with Rip, Sara tried to slip out with Jax, but she was too late.

"Ms. Lance, a word."

Exhaling through her nose, Sara stopped and turned to face the captain. He pressed a few things on the console, making her wait. With an audible sigh, Sara crossed her arms and drew his attention.

"I've noticed you and Mr. Snart have developed a bond."

She cocked her head and remained silent, forcing him to continue on his own.

"I hope that you will take care. Proceed with caution." He was obviously trying to hint at something, but Sara refused to understand him.

"Is this where you warn me that if I break his heart, you've got a gun, a shovel, and a lot of empty land?" she teased.

Rip's smile was reluctantly given and faded quickly. "I was more concerned for you."

"So...between the master assassin and petty thief, you think I'm the one in danger?"

The startled look she received clearly showed that Rip hadn't considered it from that perspective. Unable to resist, Sara added, "Are you just naturally sexist or does that come with the time-traveling?"

"I was merely expressing my concern. Mr. Snart is-"

"A good guy."

"A thief."

"The very fact for which you hired him," Sara argued. "And you're happy about it when you need something stolen, but you use it as an insult every other time. You can't have it both ways."

Flustered and frustrated, Rip's careful speech fell apart. "If you two are involved, then I need to-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Sara's voice lost its teasing edge, her eyes cutting into Rip. "If Leonard and I are involved, it's no one's business but ours." Rip opened his mouth to make a comment, but she spoke over him, taking a step forward and crowding him against the desk. "You aren't my dad, you aren't my family, and if you want my respect, Captain," she spat out with contempt, "you'll remember exactly who you hired and why."

She didn't blink until Rip finally responded, "My apologies, Ms. Lance. I was out of line."

"Damn right you were." Sara took a step back and allowed him to breathe.

"Regardless of your relationship, or lack thereof," he corrected quickly, "I hope you will keep Mr. Snart's antics under control."

"Seeing as how the antics were my idea, I doubt it."

He huffed, "Ms. Lance, I must insist. A woman of your skills should be training, I'm sure the League-"

"The League," she laughed. "When we were trapped inside Nanda Parbat because of the snow, the League would pit us against one another. We were killers and we trained to do exactly that. Every bad storm left our numbers slightly fewer." She gave Rip a thin smile, "I think a few harmless pranks are more than reasonable. Unless you really want me to train like a killer?"

Stuck between a rock and a bloody alternative, Rip made the wise choice. "Of course not. Just try to keep me out of it."

"No promises." Sara left the bridge, allowing Rip to return to his office. Just a few steps into the hallway, Sara's instincts kicked in and she spun to face the person behind her. Relaxing almost instantly, she continued down the hall. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

"Yet so informative," Leonard sad without shame. He fell into step beside her. "I enjoy someone else taking Rip down a peg."

Sara shook her head with a smirk. "What was so informative about that? Other than that Rip thinks we're being juvenile."

"He only thinks I'm juvenile. He thinks you're perfect."

"How come that sounds like an insult?"

"One, because it's Rip who thinks it. Two, because perfect is boring. And you aren't."

Only Leonard could make being imperfect sound preferable to the alternative. When she only smile, he continued.

"And I learned that the only thing that riles up Rip more than pranks, is the idea that his perfect Sara and I might be involved."

She hadn't noticed it before, but whenever Leonard used her first name, he elongated the "s." It sounded like Sssara, calling to mind snakes and secrets and stealing and se-

Stopping that train of thought, she cut her eyes at him. "I'm not his anything. And I think it's more of a "I-don't-want-my-difficult-team-complicated-even-more" thing."

"Oh, I don't care why it upsets him," Leonard said. "Only that it does. And since you're so keen on pranks…"

She faced forward, knowing without looking that he was casting that now familiar dark look her way. Returning their conversation to easy banter, she avoided it, "I'm hurt, you only using me for a prank."

"Did I say only?" he asked quietly.

She once again fell silent, unsure how to respond and allowing Leonard to take the lead. Comments like that were making it more and more difficult for her to stop considering Leonard as only a friend. But he needed her as a friend, some constant in his life to keep him from withdrawing from everything again. A relationship, if he even really wanted that and not just sex, would add far more complications than he needed, or than she could handle right now. She could sleep with people without strings or emotions, and had done so before to the satisfaction of all involved. But that arrangement wouldn't work with Leonard. She was already tangled up with him and his feelings. She cared about him. Anything more than this might ruin what they had and she wasn't going to risk it.

No matter how much it intrigued her.

"Where are we going?" She realized that this wasn't the route to either of their rooms, the storage bay, or the gym, the places they usually spent their days. The only thing this way was the tech lab.

"I paid a visit to Palmer's tech last night," Leonard said, his voice dropping.

She his a frown. She'd hoped the tv and drinks had been enough to mellow him out to sleep. Her own sleep pattern was abnormal - a few hours here and there punctuated by nightmares - but she was used to it. What she wasn't used to was having to share the kitchen with anyone at three in the morning. And yet, it had happened more than once with Leonard.

"Oh?" was all she said.

He cast her a smirk and cautioned silence as they rounded the corner. Sara could make out the voices of Ray and Jax.

"...working on a way to get bigger, rather than smaller." Faint grunts punctuated Ray's comments as he undoubtedly worked his way into his suit. "And if I can do that-"

"You mean, if you don't explode," Jax interrupted.

"Exactly. I'll be able to throw it in Snart's face."

Sara exchanged a raised brow with Leonard, who simply shrugged.

"All right," Ray said, taking a deep breath. "Let's test this. Three. Two. One."

Tiny soldiers, with little guns

Little tanks, no bigger than your thumb

They want you

"Oh, come one!" Ray shouted over the music and Jax's laughter.

Leonard turned the corner, already speaking. "See, Palmer, this what happens when you let people get under your skin. You have to learn how to be...cool."

Rolling her eyes, Sara followed him, amused by the music and Ray's face. He was pressing the button to make his suit smaller, apparently the action that had started the music, but to no avail.

"What did you do to my suit?" Ray asked.

"Relax," Leonard drawled, coming nearer. "I just installed a pressure panel behind the chestplate. Seconds to install."

"For an engineer," Jax muttered, appraising Leonard with some respect.

Ray's frown faded slightly. "But the lab is locked at night. And my suit is in a locked case."

"Have you met Snart?" Sara asked from the door.

Realized the foolishness of his comment, Ray sighed. "Fine. You win this round. But you just wait, the challengers are coming."

"In order to be challengers," Leonard said with an arrogant smile, "wouldn't you have to be participating?"

Jax glared, but Sara could see an eagerness. With a wave, Leonard left, passing Sara in the doorway.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to Sara.

"If you had gotten larger," she observed, "wouldn't it have destroyed the tech lab, Jax, and possibly the whole ship?"

The blank look assured her that he hadn't thought of it. "Um."

"Great." She shook her head and left the still-singing suit. For a genius, Ray was sometimes a dumbass.

Little people with tiny brains…

Sara, not inclined to sleep that night, read until long after the others had gone off to bed. She kept the door to her room open, glancing up as the rest of the team filed past one by one. She wished them a goodnight, but stayed where she was.

"'Night, birdy."

She tried, and failed, not to smile at the stupid nickname. "Goodnight, Len."

Soon, she was the only awake. Or at least, the only one still visibly awake. What the others did in their rooms was up to them. She tried to convince herself she wasn't watching for anyone in particular, but that was a lie.

Three hours, and eight chapters later, Sara head a near-silent release of air. She glanced up, making her page and saw Leonard leaving his room.

"Can't sleep?" she called. This was why she'd left the door open - he as quiet as she was and with the door night, she would've missed him.

Pausing at the door, he glanced inside, but didn't cross the threshold. "Apparently, I'm not the only one."

"Well," she said, dropping the book and lowering her legs off the bed to face him, "you know what they say, no rest for the wicked."

"Then why are you awake?" He finally moved into the room, but lingered by the exit.

She scoffed, "He said to the assassin."

"I'm an excellent judge of character."

"Only the very best of the very worst for you?"

"Exactly." He had relaxed slightly, but was still tapping his fingers against the wall.

Sara had the beginnings of a plan from this afternoon, and ran with it now. "How much would you gloat if I asked for your help?"

A flicker of interest and his tapping stilled. "Only a slightly inappropriate amount." He stepped in nearer. "Why?"

"You got into the tech lab by picking the lock."

He didn't answer, both of them knowing it was a fact.

"I'd like to learn how to do that."

"Pick locks or upset Palmer?"

"Both."

"Why?" he asked. She knew he didn't mean about Ray.

She shrugged. "I'm bored. I want to do something. You're awake."

He arched a brow. "And what if it had been Rip who had walked by your door?"

"I would've talked to him for two minutes. That would put me to sleep."

The smirk drew a smile out of her as well. He glanced back at his door, then said, "Just a minute."

He vanished within, before returning with a medium sized padlock and a few small strips of metal. Gesturing towards the desk, he ordered, "Sit."

Knowing that she asked for this, she does as he says and Leonard quickly explains the lock picks and the basics. Then he sets her loose. Sara fumbles around as Leonard wanders her room, before collapsing on her bed. She glanced back to make sure he wasn't getting shoeprints on her comforter. He had his ankles crossed just over the edge of the bed and put his hands behind his head. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping.

Sara worked at the lock for a good ten minutes in silence, but grew more and more frustrated. As she passed the fifteen minute mark, and the lock still stubbornly refused to open, she dropped the picks with a huff. "I can't do it."

"Not like you to give up, birdy," Leonard observed, his eyes still closed.

"Not like you to be encouraging," she retorted, half in anger and half in frustration.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Leonard stood and came over to her chair. "Grab the picks, assassin."

"Len."

"Humor me."

That was, supposedly, her goal. Picking up the slim metal with a sigh, she said, "It's not my thing. Give me a knife any day, but not-"

Leonard leaned over her chair, covering her hands with his own to maneuver the picks. He rested his chin on her shoulder, arms pressing along the length of hers and her fingers invariably caught.

Physical contact seemed to leave Leonard uncomfortable, so Sara tried to keep from initiating it. A few exceptions, grabbing his hand or when they drank, but Leonard was always the first to move. Not because men made the first move, but out of respect to him. For her own part, Sara was a very tactile person once she got to know them. And Leonard -

"Focus," he said in her ear.

Stifling a shiver, she nodded and dragged her attention to what he was doing, rather than the smell of his cologne or the warmth of his fingers or -

Focus.

"Locks, unlike people," Leonard said, manipulating the picks with ease, "don't care if you've got a key. Not if you can do the same things. Results over resources."

She could appreciate that, especially from a man with a background like him.

"It takes patience and calmness." He guided her hand to grab a third pick.

"Neither of which I have," Sara commented, hoping her voice sounded calm.

He chuckled and a rush of heat surged through her. She held her breath until she was under control.

"Even the most violent storms have a calm center," he said.

"Read that off a fortune cookie?"

"Perhaps." He sounded calmer and more distracted, focusing on his task. "There," he breathed. He moved impossibly closer and shifted one pick an iota, if that. "Feel that?" He repeated the gesture.

It was subtle. If she exhaled too strongly, she'd miss it, that faintest of hitches in the lock. Nodding might ruin it, so she whispered, "Yeah."

Leonard guided her hand, applying just the slightest pressure. With a click that resounded in the quiet room, the tumbler slid into place and the lock popped open.

With a sense of accomplishment that seemed almost inappropriate, Sara grinned and turned to face Leonard. "I did it!"

He smiled and Sara realized how close he was to her. His eyes dropped briefly before he answered, "You're on your way to becoming a master thief, assassin." Leonard's hands still held hers, though she had dropped her picks the moment the lock opened. His fingers, not much larger than hers, seemed to engulf her hand. Not since the League had she felt so simultaneously scared and excited, though there was more to it.

"One lock hardly makes me a thief," she said, gently pulling free.

Leonard's hands tightened almost imperceptibly before he let her go. His step back allowed her enough room to breathe, but only barely. "I said on your way. Besides, why would I teach you all I know?" He looked at his empty hand with a strange focus. "You'd have no use for me."

She laughed at the idea she'd become as good a thief as he was, then considered the rest of his statement. "I don't need to have a use for you to want to be friends, Len."

The disbelief was apparent and Sara hated it. Grabbing a piece of paper, she wrote out a few lines and handed it to him.

A quick glance at it only made him frown and look at her. "What is this?"

"My dad's address in Star City."

His frown only deepened.

"When all of this is over, or if we get blasted back in time by some freaky wormhole," she explained, "I'll be there. Not forever, so you'll have to move fast. But I'll leave my new address, wherever it is, behind."

He folded and unfolded the paper. "Why?"

Sara stared at him in disbelief. "We're friends, Len. Whether we're on the Waverider or back in 2016."

Pocketing the paper, he moved the conversation back. "You do realize you just gave a master thief your dad's address?"

"You do realize it's the address of a master assassin's dad?"

"Good point." His smile was brief and he glanced at the lock and picks on the table. "Keep practicing with those until you can do it with your eyes closed."

"Will there be a test?"

"With a blindfold."

"Kinky."

"Always."

Sara's smile was widened by Leonard's sudden yawn. He smothered it quickly, but it was there.

And it was contagious. Her yawn was even less expected, but Leonard saw and smirked. "Apparently even assassins need their rest. And here I thought you ran off of spite and the smell of leather."

"Mostly. But every now and then, I need some real sleep."

"Sure you're going to get it tonight?" Leonard asked, carefully looking away.

Obviously, she wasn't the only one who was aware of sleepless teammates. Touched by his concern, but aware he didn't want to appear concerned at all, Sara just said, "Pretty sure."

"Good." He moved to the door. "Night, assassin."

"Sleep well, crook."

Sorry the update took so long! I hit a wall, then I hit a creative burst, but at the end, so that wasn't helpful. Tomorrow, I leave for SDCC, so I really wanted to give you guys something. Upside, there's definitely a plot and an arc in my mind now.

Thanks for reading!

DC's Legends of Tomorrow belong to their respective creators.

"Little Guns" belongs to Oingo Boingo.

I own nothing of value. I'm doing this for purely entertainment purposes.