Leonard Snart walks into the so-called Arrowcave both uneasy and smug, side by side with Sara Lance, trying to act like he has no doubt whatsoever about his right to be there.

He doesn't. Really, he doesn't. Even if he has eschewed the idea of being a hero, he knows that he'd done something necessary (even if it's not heroic, no matter what Sara says) in destroying the Oculus. That's gotta earn him some points, right? Not that he needs points.

He doesn't need points. And he doesn't…

Oh, hell. He does. He does doubt his right to be here.

But damned if he's going to show that.

He lags back a little as Sara sees her sister and father in the cavernous, tech-filled room and moves forward, calling to them. There's a lot of things in the space he's pretty sure no crook is meant to see, such as weapons racks and uniforms, and Leonard scans the space as if he's pretty sure someone's watching him, waiting for him to screw up.

Well, if they are, they're not there at the moment. He joins Sara, who's talking earnestly to Laurel, glancing uncomfortably at Quentin.

They're a little late because Sara had decided to jump him as soon as they'd checked into their hotel. And that's sort of a pleasant but uncomfortable memory to carry with him as he encounters Sara's father again. He's not used to dealing with parents—Alexa had hated hers as much as he'd hated Lewis (at least if she'd been telling the truth, for once) and he'd never met Daniel's, and every other relationship, such as they were, hadn't precisely been the "meet-the-parents" sort.

Quentin does eye him, momentarily, as if he suspects Leonard's uncertainty—and potentially some of why-but then he focuses again on his girls, and the heat's off Leonard. He sighs, then glances around before looking back at Sara and Laurel.

"So. Cold."

Leonard very nearly yelps. He glares at Felicity Smoak, who'd appeared smugly near his left elbow, smiling at him. He truly must have been distracted.

"I trust Sara," she says casually. "But you'll still have to convince Oliver."

Leonard flicks her a glance. His first instinct is to say that he doesn't give a fuck what Oliver Queen thinks. But…perhaps Sara does. And he's willing to do a lot, for her.

"Ok," he says cautiously. "For Sara, I'll try."

Something flickers in Smoak's eyes. She sighs, then actually smiles at him.

"That's sweet," she murmurs. "You've changed, haven't you?"

Leonard tilts his head, frowning. It might be true, but he'll be damned if he admits it. "Not really," he drawls, parking his hip against a desk and leaning, crossing his ankles. "Just got a different crew."

"Mmhmm." Smoak's rather obviously not buying it—but she lets it go, to his relief, moving past him and on to chatter at Sara and Laurel about dinner, be it takeout or a restaurant. Leonard hopes rather fervently for takeout, then sighs again, quietly, glancing around the room.

He supposes that he had envisioned something more like Team Flash's STAR Labs—which is really a bit silly when he thinks about it. This place is a lot—darker. No surprise, really. And the security is better, which just makes it a rather intriguing challenge.

Not that the STAR Labs security is really all that bad. He's just properly motivated to make it look like it is, for the sterling reason of, well, yanking Team Flash's collective chain.

Is that going to change now that he's a sort-of good guy? Leonard sighs to himself. Well, he'll just have to get creative.

Not long after that, Sara (perhaps realizing that he's thoroughly casing the Arrowcave in the absence of other entertainment) wanders back over to him, grinning. He smiles to see how happy she looks, and allows her to take his hand and haul him over to where Laurel is talking to Felicity at a cluster of desks. (Quentin is in a corner talking on his phone.)

Both women stop talking and watch them as they approach, grinning at their linked hands, and Leonard grasps for equanimity. He's not used to being watched like he's something adorable. Dangerous, yes. Hot, occasionally. Adorable, not so much.

But he doesn't pull his hand away.

Felicity opens her mouth, smirking, but Laurel gives her a quelling glance and she closes it again, looking disappointed.

"Takeout OK?" Laurel asks Leonard, who tries not to let his relief show. "I think it's just going to be the five of us getting dinner…well, if Ollie ever gets here. John is off being a family man tonight, Curtis actually wants to see his husband, and Thea has a date." She sighed, stretching her arms over her head. "It's been a rough few months. It's nice to finally get a breath of air."

"I want to hear more about that later," Sara tells her seriously, letting go of Leonard's hand and boosting herself up to sit on an empty desk. "I mean, we came pretty close to being part of a nuclear disaster ourselves, back in 1975 Norway." She bites her lip. "Sounds like you came a lot closer."

"You have no idea," Felicity says fervently. "Um? Norway? What..."

Sara happily starts telling them about how she and Leonard, with Mick and Stein, had arrived at the arms deal in Norway and how Stein, to everyone's or no one's surprise, had wound up being the loose cannon of the bunch. Leonard relaxes a little, enjoying the opportunity to add the occasional snark and pithy comment to the story. By the time Quentin wanders back, though, the other women are starting to eye Leonard speculatively, obviously wondering how he and Sara had become…whatever they are…and Leonard's starting to shuffle uneasily under the regard.

It's almost a relief when Quentin looks at him, raising an eyebrow….and after a moment, clears his throat.

"So," he says, looking at Leonard, "gonna go upstairs and wait for the pizza. Want some fresh air?"

Leonard agrees with far more alacrity than he'd ever thought possible.

"So," Felicity whispers, "how the heck did…ah…this happen?"

Sara smiles to herself, watching Leonard wander off with her father—truly a sight she'd never thought she'd be seeing. Then she glances back at Felicity and Laurel, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" she asks archly.

Laurel just continues to smile, but Felicity rolls her eyes dramatically.

"This!" she whispers loudly. "You and Cold guy there." She pauses until Quentin and Leonard have left the room, then raises her voice. "I mean, you are…um. Right?"

"Um?" Sara stares at her, trying to look innocent. "Translate, please?"

The other woman throws up her hands in frustration. "You know what I mean! Sleeping together. Knocking boots. Shagging. Um…I know more, give me a moment."

But Sara's laughing too hard. "Yes, OK? Yes, we are." She shakes her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Long story. Sure you want it right now?"

Felicity looks like she's going to explode, but Laurel just shakes her head slowly.

"It's more than that, though," she says, watching her sister. "Isn't it?"

Sara smiles at her serenely. "Yes," she agrees, though she doesn't elaborate—she's still not sure how to define things right now. "Anyway, we were starting to become…friends, I guess, thought it was a little more than that…even before, but then we got stuck together." She tapped her fingers on the desk. "For nearly a year. In 1958."

Felicity gaped at her. "Sara," she says a little disapprovingly, "don't tell me you went all Suzie Homemaker on us."

That gets her a roll of the eyes. "I helped abused women learn martial arts and went patrolling with Kathy Kane in Gotham," Sara informs her. "And helped Leonard rob a business owner who was a racist dick."

Felicity brightens. "OK, that's the Sara I know and love. Awww. Was it all Bonnie and Clyde?"

Neither of the other two will ever understand completely why those words make Sara go still, then smile a little, shaking her head. "No," she says after a moment. "Leonard said leaning on thieving too much wasn't really sustainable, unless we wanted to keep moving around. And we wanted the Waverider to be able to find us."

She pauses to figure out what to tell them. "Len started a security system business. Eventually, we settled down in Orange City. Made friends. Helped people. Visited…oh, yeah, Ray and Kendra were there, too, in 1958." She hesitates, wondering if it should be their news to tell. "They're married now. And they have a 1-year-old son. It's kind of a long story."

Felicity and Laurel are just staring at her. Felicity has her hands over her mouth, but then slowly lowers them, shaking her head.

"None of this," she whispers, "is anything I really expected when I heard you were going time-traveling."

"Well, to be fair, it wasn't what I expected either." Sara thinks about it another moment. "There were some more typical hijinks, I guess you'd say." She decides it's not worth mentioning Star City in 2046. "Oh! We all visited the Old West. That was interesting. As were the '70s. And a few points in the future. That was…well, not as interesting as you'd think. But…" She shakes her head and smiles at Laurel. "I'm glad you talked me into going."

Laurel's smile is warm and pleased, and the two sisters share a look of understanding as Felicity sighs.

"I'm really happy for Ray," she says. "But…a 1-year-old son? How does that work? You've only been gone a few months."

"The same way Leonard and I spent nearly a year in 1958."

"I get that, but…" The other woman throws her hands up and turns around. "Y'know what? I'm not going to think about it. It happened, it's done, mazel tov. Oooh, what do I get as a baby gift?"

She walks over to her desk and logs into the computer, muttering to herself, and Sara shakes her head, grinning. She glances back at Laurel, who's looking quite thoughtful.

"And the whole 'big damn hero' thing you mentioned?" Laurel asks quietly.

Sara doesn't really want to get into all the Time Masters were capable, or the ultimate truth of their mission. So she just shrugs.

"He should have died," she says just as quietly. "He didn't. Like Felicity said: it happened, it's done. We were lucky."

Much to Leonard's surprise, he quickly decides he really does like Quentin Lance, despite the whole cop—former cop—thing. The man isn't beyond giving Leonard a bit of an interrogation, but it's rather more…well, thoughtful…then expected, and he certainly doesn't seem to feel the need to fill silence with chatter when they're not talking.

When the delivery person gets there, Quentin pays him, and they take the food and head back down to the so-called Arrowcave. Smoak is engrossed in her computer, and Sara and Laurel are talking quietly. The scene quickly devolves into a cheerful familial scramble for food, though, something that has Leonard—who's never precisely had what would be considered a normal, if that even exists, family—a bit befuddled before he acclimates.

(The closest he has, of course, are Lisa and Mick, and no one, not even Leonard, gets in the way when Mick is hungry. Or, sometimes, Lisa.)

He sits and fastidiously eats his pizza while listening silently, bemused at the sisterly (amongst all three of them, actually) banter. Quentin occasionally interjects a comment or two, sometimes in a way that invites Leonard to contribute too, and that's surprisingly warming,

Some part of him can't figure it out. Why would the other man bother to do this? Especially to the crook (probably closer in age to him than Sara) who's involved with his beloved young daughter? He keeps looking at Quentin out of the corner of his eye, wondering.

He's still uncertain when he gets up, taking his own paper plates and those of a few others and wandering toward the garbage can at the other side of the facility while the others continue to talk. And no sooner has he dumped the refuse than he hears quiet footsteps approaching, and looks up, tensing, as a figure approaches through the darker recesses of the Arrowcave.

The other man stops in his tracks, eyes narrowed, watching Leonard with a laser focus that makes the hairs rise on the back of his neck. One, because this man is deadly, and every instinct Leonard has is telling him that. Two, because…

Oh. Oh, hell. Oliver Queen is attractive. Yeah, that's not something Leonard really wants to think about. Nor admit to Sara…who knows him well enough to guess anyway.

The other man looks past to regard the others—who certainly don't look alarmed—and then focuses back on Leonard, apparently deciding that he's not worth violence—yet.

"You're Leonard Snart." The tone is clipped and unforgiving. And certain. Queen may be surprised at his presence here, but he knows perfectly well who Leonard is. Uncanny.

"I'm aware." Leonard gives Queen a humorless smile. "Arrow. Hello."

The other man just watches him with that cold, calm, focused look. Then he speaks again: "Where's your partner in crime?"

He clearly means Mick, but Leonard can't resist messing with him. "Over there," he informs the other man, tilting his head toward Sara.

Queen's eyes flick toward Sara and he actually blinks as he registers Leonard's meaning, which is kind of satisfying. But then those eyes narrow again and dart back, and his scowl deepens.

Leonard regretfully decides to stop messing with him. For now. Sort of. "Oh," he drawls, "you mean Mick Rory."

Queen's eyes narrow further—if that's even possible. "The arsonist," he grits out.

Leonard feels a surge of protectiveness for Mick. "He's back in Central City," he says, lifting his chin and regarding the other man. "Presumably pestering Barry Allen or continuing to eat the Steins out of house and home."

That's not what Queen expected, clearly, and It knocks him out of his scowling mood. He stares at Leonard, then lifts his head as Felicity and Sara both call his name. With a rough shake of his head, he leaves Leonard alone, moving toward them, and Leonard shrugs, turning to watch him.

Sara rises, smiling, wrapping her arms around Queen in a way that provokes a flicker of jealously from Leonard, even as he knows it shouldn't. He sidles slowly toward the group, ignoring the whisper of "Snart" he hears from Queen and trusting Sara to explain.

It's a bit unnerving. But he'd sworn he'd try, and this is part of that. Right?

To his immense relief and surprise, though, Laurel wheels over toward him, then, watching him with understanding eyes.

"Let them talk," she says under her breath. "Trust me."

Leonard stops in his tracks, watching her too. This is so far outside his realm of experience that he's truly not sure what to do. So, he decides, the least he can do is listen.

"All right," he drawls uncomfortably. "I...ah." He glances around, wondering what he can do or where he can go that he won't be looked at suspiciously, by Queen at least. That's not something he's used to giving a fuck about.

Laurel takes pity on him again. She nods matter-of-factly, then starts wheeling herself past him, toward a corner of the huge room. "I need to do some PT exercises," she tosses back at him. "I could use a spotter. Can you do it?"

Leonard blinks. Once. Twice. Then he follows her toward the corner in tacit agreement, a bit bemused.

"I'm here a lot now that I can move around a bit more, and there's more room here anyway," Laurel explains as she carefully maneuvers over to the wall and reaches out to grab a bar fastened to the wall. (Leonard hovers a bit awkwardly, but she seems perfectly adept at moving about slowly.) "Made sense to have a set-up here." She winks at him as she levers herself out of the wheelchair. "And Dad can't hover as much if he's distracted by everything else going on."

Leonard involuntarily glances over his shoulder, but Felicity is showing Quentin something on her computer and….and he can't see Sara and Oliver. He stifles another unwanted spurt of jealousy and looks quickly back at Laurel, who's leaning there watching him with an element of….not sympathy, he hates sympathy…but empathy, anyway.

She doesn't say anything about it, though, taking a careful step forward, then another. Leonard puts his hands behind his back, trying not to think about what Laurel's sister and father will do to him if he lets her fall. Not that he's "letting" her do anything. He has a feeling "letting" Laurel do something is rather like "letting" Sara do something. It just doesn't work that way.

"I'm seeing a physical therapist, of course," Laurel says a bit clinically as she moves along the wall and Leonard watches, "and that's where a lot of the really exhausting work comes in. Not that this can't be. But I do try to do a little here every day. It seems to help."

Leonard figures he should say something. Right? Isn't that what normal…family members…and friends do? "Good," he says. "Uh." He doesn't want to be the one to tell her about the original timeline. "You're doing pretty well. For…from what I've heard."

Laurel quirks an eyebrow at him. It's an expression very like her sister's. "I am, I think," she says, keeping much of her concentration on her movements. "Don't know if my balance will ever be quite the same. And changing speed is…hard." She pauses, a quiet interlude in which Leonard's suddenly sure that she's telling him things that…that maybe she hasn't told real family. "And it hurts. I'm frighteningly used to that. That's background noise, now."

Leonard watches her intently. "Why are you telling me?" he asks quietly as she reaches the end of her walk up and down the wall and turns, slowly lowering herself into the wheelchair with a sigh. "I'm…well. I'm not…family." Yet. He barely dares think that.

Laurel turns her head, actually smiling at him despite some clear pain and fatigue. "Because you won't go all…" She considers a moment. "…protective on me." She eyes him, a gleam of odd understanding in her gaze. "You get the idea of pressing on, I think."

Then she changes the subject. He thinks. "You have a sister, Sara said."

"Yes," he tells her cautiously. "Lisa." He pauses as she turns the wheelchair toward him. "Can't say I'm not protective of her…in our own way…"

That gets a chuckle. "But you get it," Laurel says intently, watching him. "I don't want to be wrapped in cotton. I'm still me."

Leonard thinks of the notion of wrapping Lisa in cotton…and shudders. "Yeah."

Laurel nods, satisfied. "Well, then." She studies Leonard. "I can see why you and Sara hit it off."

He snorts. "Because I'd never wrap her in cotton?"

"That's part of it," Laurel agrees. "More that I daresay the notion would never even occur to you. And..." She pauses. "...you'll never try to 'fix' her."

Leonard's chin snaps up. "She's not broken." She's just like him. A survivor.

But Laurel's nodding. "And that's exactly what I mean."

Oliver Queen is a stubborn asshole. But Sara's known that, and him, for a long time, and he knows her in return. By the time she finishes telling him some, at least, of what she's been up to with the Legends and he finishes filling her in on the events in Star City over the past few months, he hasn't precisely thawed toward Leonard—but he's tacitly agreed not to be too overt over it until he gives the former crook a chance.

Or at least he understands that Sara will happily kick his ass if he persists in staring accusatorily at the other man. Either works.

They eventually head back into the main room after wandering around the complex for a while. Sara doesn't see Leonard immediately and casts about, momentarily concerned. Then she spies him—apparently talking quite earnestly to Laurel, as odd as that seems.

Laurel looks weary but is smiling, and Sara studies her intently, wondering again if she should say something about the other timeline. She really doesn't want to.

Maybe she should just do it.

Maybe she shouldn't.

At the moment, at least, Sara just decides to let it go.

As she gets closer, she hears Leonard speak.

"…miss it?" he asks quietly, watching Laurel.

Huh. Sara's steps slow as she listens for the answer.

"I do," she hears her sister say seriously. "I expect I always will. But…now I can focus on other things. And…who knows? Maybe I can help train a successor. There should be a Black Canary in Star City."

Sara feels a surge of…guilt? …as she hears those words. Laurel had become the Black Canary because of her, because Sara had died and left the city without a Canary…and she'd paid the price. And now Sara was abandoning her city again, heading back out on the Waverider, and…

But then Leonard glances up as she approaches, and his eyes lighten a little as he sees her. Sara smiles at him, and she hears Laurel's thoughtful noise as she registers that look. But she doesn't say anything more, and neither does Sara.

Yet.

"You OK?" Sara asks Leonard cautiously. "Sorry for vanishing. Had to talk to Ollie."

Laurel makes a noise that's rather Snart-like, but she doesn't say anything more. Leonard glances at a her, a smile lurking around the corners of his mouth, then back at Sara.

"Fine," he drawls…and she can tell from his voice, he is. "Talking about annoying little sisters."

Laurel snickers, then, and Sara rolls her eyes even as she can't help smiling.

"Laugh it up, you two," she tells them, unable to keep how very pleased she is to see them getting along from her voice. "Wait 'til I team up with Lisa."

Leonard looks somewhat alarmed at that, and Laurel tilts her head. "You haven't met yet?" she asks, looking at Leonard. He looks a little sheepish.

"She's not in the city… in Central City," he mutters. "Thought I'd track her down after…after it's done, the Savage thing."

Laurel makes a noise of sympathy before Sara can interject. And then Ollie interrupts them all, voice terse in a way that speaks of restrained profanity.

"We're going to have to call in the others," he says, staring at Felicity's computer screen. "Laurel…"

"Why?" Sara asks sharply, turning.

Oliver gives her a distracted frown. "We've been watching for this drug lord to come back into the city," he says absently. "We ran him out last time, but his kind never stays away for long. He's out of warnings, and I'm not going to let him hurt any more people. I need backup…."

"And you have it."

It's obvious, what Sara's thinking…well, maybe it's obvious to anyone other than Oliver Queen. Her eyes are shining, and there's an impish and eager smile on her lips—and a little of the sheer joy in physical mayhem Leonard loves seeing in her. Queen glances back over at her thoughtfully, then nods.

"I still need a third," he says, "so…"

It abruptly occurs to Leonard that the other man is assuming that Leonard will, apparently, just watch Sara go trotting off to fight drug lords without him. And he would, of course, if he thought that's what Sara wanted, but he's pretty darned sure it's not.

Oh, fuck this.

"A-hem," he drawls, noting Sara's grin, quickly hidden. "A third what?"

Queen blinks and looks at him, as if he's forgotten Leonard's even there. Then his expression darkens a little, and he opens his mouth…

Sara growls. That's really the only word for it. It's a warning and a claim, and Queen's face goes blank again even as Leonard has a distinctly different (but quite visceral) reaction. He hears both Felicity and Laurel snicker in the background, but he keeps his expression merely inquiring with an edge of smug.

"Fine," Queen says finally. He doesn't sound happy, but he doesn't sound too unhappy either. Too practical. Leonard can respect that. "You want in? You're in. But I'm calling the shots." He steps back and waves at the computer. Felicity loses her smirk and suddenly looks very serious.

Leonard nods to him, glances at Sara, who looks calm and not too surprised, and moves forward. "You know the terrain," he drawls, "and the players. Fill us in."

Sara knows Ollie well. But she finds she's a little surprised that he lets Leonard in on things without more of a protest. Even with the talking-to she'd given him earlier.

But then, he's always been pragmatic. Like Leonard. A lot like Leonard in some ways. And holy hell, she's not going to examine that too much.

Oliver, speaking in clipped, precise terms, gives them the background and the people involved as Sara and Leonard watch the computer screen. He has maps and diagrams and all those things Leonard likes to study when planning something, and Sara can see Leonard's natural desire to give the other man grief fading in pursuit of the puzzle. He asks questions, but they're good ones, not ones designed to annoy, and Sara can also see Oliver's natural inclination to mistrust the crook fading in that light.

Well, what do you know?

Sara and Leonard have left their gear back at their hotel room, so as soon as the light starts fading, they make plans to meet Oliver at the scene, and withdraw. Getting back out of the hotel in full Captain Cold and White Canary gear (though Leonard eschews his parka for his usual leather jacket) is a challenge, but they manage, and they meet Oliver in the warehouse district as promised.

The goggled man with the cold gun and the archer in green give each other a once-over, and Sara rolls her eyes. Still, being here in her home city and time again makes her a little uneasy without a mask herself, so she puts on the black silk one she'd brought along from her Canary days—just in case.

Leonard studies her and nods. Oliver's already paying more attention to the quiet, dark area in front of them.

"Why do bad guys like deserted warehouses so much?" he mutters—and then glances at Leonard. The suggestion is clear, and Sara starts to bristle. But Leonard just tosses the other man a smirk.

"Anonymity," he drawls. "They all look alike. And who the hell wants to hang around one voluntarily? Easier to keep an eye on the area." He shrugs, checking the cold gun's charge. "Never much my style."

But then there's a flurry of activity in front of them, and there's no more time for banter. Oliver glances at them, but apparently decides that he's in for a penny, and he might as well trust them both. He jerks his chin at the building, and Sara and Leonard exchange a glance before both heading off to opposite sides, to cover two other entrances/exits and make themselves available for backup as Oliver, being Oliver, barrels right in the front.

It all goes rather more smoothly than Sara expects.

"Did he wet himself?" Sara asks rather gleefully as they regroup a bit later, on a rooftop not so far from the Arrowcave, just to make sure they're not pursued by either police nor gang members. "He looked like he wet himself." She laughs again, an open, free sound that makes Leonard smile, as she turns slowly, looking out at the city.

Queen gives her a small smile as he checks his weaponry. "I didn't ask." He'd put an arrow right between the man's legs as the would-be drug lord had lounged on a chair that might as well have been a throne, there in the middle of the operation. The aim had impressed even Leonard. "But I wouldn't be surprised."

Sara laughs again. She gazes out over her city with an almost propriety expression that makes a pang go through Leonard's heart, for some reason. "Well," she says with satisfaction, "given that it sent him running out right into the arms of the SCPD, it probably doesn't really matter. If he thinks he's safer in Iron Heights, at least he's not here."

Queen makes a noise of agreement, but he's going through the arrows in his quiver now, not paying much attention to them. Sara turns to Leonard, her eyes still gleaming. "Have fun?" she asks archly, moving closer. "I know you're no fonder of that sort than Oliver is."

From the corner of his eye, Leonard can see Queen's attention briefly diverted toward them, but he ignores it, watching Sara, a smirk spreading over his face as she saunters toward him. "I did," he drawls, choosing to keep his hands to himself as she moves closer. "It had its...cathartic...elements."

"Hmm." She stops, looking up at him. "So did I." Her lashes dip, and she looks up through them. "Lots of adrenaline."

Queen, behind them and feet away, clears his throat, but they both ignore his apparent discomfort.

"Oh?" Leonard slowly lifts a hand and curls a finger under Sara's chin, tilting it gently upward. "And what do you think we should do with that?"

Instead of answering in words, she reaches up and snakes a hand around behind his head, pulling him downward a fraction even as she goes up on her toes a little, and kisses him.

Neither of them sees the nearby flash.