Chapter 7: I don't think that I'd mind the falling
The team decided to keep Leonard under house arrest for now, with someone escorting him whenever he needed to leave the confines of his quarters. The hope was that the positive influence of the team would eventually get through to Snart and help him begin finding redemption and a better purpose, as he once had. It would be a long road.
As they left Snart in the med lab that first night, Amaya and Mick strolled off uncertainly. Where were they going and what were they doing? Amaya wondered. It felt like they were floating along on air, mutually satisfied with the chemistry that filled the space between them and inspired so very many ideas. She let her eyes wander over to his and found him looking back, questions filling his gaze.
Stopping short in the corridor, Amaya sighed with a smile. "Hi," she said simply, and Mick nodded.
"Hi." The word, endlessly suggestive in that gorgeously rugged voice of his, urged on her every instinct to let him know how much she wanted him right then, any random passersby be damned. Amaya bit her lip.
"I don't know what to do about us," she admitted, toying with the tie of the soldier's uniform he still wore as his hands automatically rested on her hips, the touch light but provocative.
"I know," Mick replied, "Although I do have one idea." When Amaya raised her eyebrows in curiosity, he suggested, "Meet me in my room in an hour."
"Oh, really?" Amaya grinned. "How presumptuous of you."
"No, how presumptuous of you," Mick teased. "Get your mind out of the gutter." He had the nerve to wink. She crossed her arms in mock annoyance. "Bring your appetite," Mick added.
"See you then," she called over her shoulder, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away and blushing furiously, still grinning like the Chesire cat.
Amaya couldn't remember the last time she'd felt compelled to dress up for any special reason, even back in her own time. Such occasions were few and far between when one was a Justice Society superhero, and decking herself out in period garb for the Legends' undercover missions didn't count due to its sheer artificiality.
"Dammit," Amaya sighed, knowing that there was only one person she could go to for help, and she was going to take a good deal of ribbing for this.
"So, Mick finally asked you on a real date," Sara observed crisply as Amaya walked into her quarters.
"Please, spare me the jokes about whether we're going to count beer cans first or just start setting things on fire," Amaya scowled defensively.
"Hey, I'm a judgement free zone," Sara declared, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Mick's really come into his own and proved himself to be a hero on these last few missions. We'll always joke about each other because we're us, but that doesn't mean I can't understand what you see in him."
"Thank you," Amaya nodded, grateful for her friend's respect.
"Besides, I was going to ask if he was gonna cook you dinner with his flame gun," Sara put in, earning herself a faux swat from Amaya.
"Seriously though," Sara asked as they sat down, and she handed Amaya a glass of wine. "Are you sure you want to go any further with the relationship, given what you found out about your future, your destiny?"
Amaya took a sip of wine thankfully and replied, "I just can't seem to help myself when it comes to Mick. I had no problem breaking things off with Nathaniel because the timing was epically wrong…though of course, that wasn't the only reason." Sara nodded, understanding that their incompatibility and Amaya's feelings for Mick were the other causes for the breakup.
"This is different," Amaya explained, leaning back in her chair and looking helplessly up at the ceiling, which of course offered no answers. "I know that if we're together, perhaps it can only be for a short time. Part of me feels like that's worth the pain that will come later, but I'm afraid of it, too."
"One thing's for sure," Sara noted, "We only live once, and despite all this time-hopping, it's obvious that life is too short to wonder what might have been."
"Thanks for listening," Amaya smiled.
"Anytime," Sara assured her, then walked to her closet and began pulling garments out and throwing them onto the bed. "Now, let's find you something to wear."
A little while later, Amaya tugged self-consciously at the short hemline of the black dress Sara had lent her. It was low-cut as well, making it seem like a garment designed to leave little to the imagination. Sara had assured her that she looked amazing, but Amaya felt overwhelmingly…bare. Standing outside Mick's door, she put on and then took off a black sweater several times, accidentally backing into the door and making a loud noise against it with her elbow. Oops. She hadn't decided yet if she should or shouldn't wear the sweater, but it happened to be off when Mick opened the door.
"Whoa," He said, looking at her in admiration, just a little too flawless himself in a plain black button-down shirt and gray pants. Amaya swallowed hard. She wasn't ready for how it was going to feel, locking eyes with him, his smile so intent and hopeful, his appreciation of her attire all too obvious. A white-hot jolt of combined embarrassment and desire shot through her and she struggled to maintain her composure.
"You dressed up," Amaya blurted as she stepped inside, only to get the shock of her lifetime at the sight of his completely neat, clean, organized quarters. "What happened in here?" She breathed the question in disbelief.
"I cleaned up," Mick said pridefully, watching her eyes dart around the room. Recalling the act of cleaning with a shudder, he added, "It was horrible," and they both laughed.
Amaya couldn't help asking, "How is the closet looking right about now?"
Mick frowned and barred the path to it. "Whatever you do," he warned, "Don't open that door."
He was such an impossibly perfect combination of sexy and adorable that Amaya couldn't wait another moment. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"Okay," Mick remarked as they pulled slightly apart, "Cleaning up is my new favorite hobby."
"And what's all this?" She gestured to a table nearby, which was set up for a lovely meal, complete with a rose in a small glass vase in the center of the table beside a candle. "Mick Rory," she accused, "Are you blushing?"
"I just…uhh…" Mick explained nervously, "I wanted to do something nice for you. It's not enough, but it's something. You saved me, and there's not much I can ever do to repay you. You deserve everything good, Amaya."
"So do you," She replied, "And I hope you see that now."
Mick shook his head. "Maybe I'm better than I thought, but I could never deserve you. Then again, who could? I just gotta say, you do what you think is right about us. I know the whole problem with you going back to your timeline and—"
"Mick, I'm not thinking about that now," Amaya cut him off, "I can't. Because nothing ever felt as right to me as what we have between us. It's been unexpected. It's been this amazing whirlwind overtaking me, and I can't walk away from it. I won't."
Mick's eyes shone with emotion that he fumbled to find words to express. "I don't know how to say this because I've never felt this way about someone. You're the only one I…"
"Mick, it's okay," she reassured him as her heart skipped a beat, taking both his hands and lacing her fingers through his. "You can tell me anything."
"I've uh," Mick nodded as if encouraging himself to go on, "I've fallen for you, Amaya. I'm yours. You can do what you want with me because there's nothing I'd rather do than be with you." He looked down at their joined hands as if apprehensive of raising his head right then, so she tipped his chin up with her finger.
"Hey," Amaya said warmly, "I've fallen for you, too. You're a good man, Mick Rory. I've heard otherwise from plenty of people, including you, and I knew the whole time that you were all wrong about that. There's nowhere I would rather be than here with you."
They looked at each other as a wave of astonished happiness hit them and seemed to propel them straight into one another's arms within a millisecond. Their lips collided and they kissed so passionately that it took Amaya's breath away. She found the buttons of Mick's shirt despite the new distraction of his lips trailing down her neck. Once it was removed, he looked at her as if torn between uncertainty that this could be real and the need to ask permission to continue. "Don't stop," Amaya whispered, pulling him closer, relishing the feeling of his bare, firm skin beneath her fingers, letting her touch rove over him shamelessly. It felt amazing to give vent to longings that had built up for so long.
"This dress," he murmured, his hands running up and down her body in the snug garment. She bit her lip in anticipation.
"Take it off," Amaya ordered him, and Mick slowly slid the zipper down, giving the dress a small tug that made it slide down. She stepped out of it, flicking her shoes off to the side as they resumed kissing and sloppily making their way to the bed without the benefit of looking where they were going. When she bumped into the mattress, Mick slid her black lace panties down and began to kiss her from her stomach…downward until she arched her back and dug her fingers into his shoulder. Mick brought her right to the edge before grasping her by the waist and lowering her to the bed. Amaya moaned in helpless need for him to take her all the way, and their lips met in a fiery, demanding kiss. She could feel his hardness grinding against her and reached down to pull his pants off as he unhooked her bra. The feeling of his tongue circling her nipple while his fingers mirrored the motion on her other breast was something Amaya could only stand briefly before she found him with her hands and guided him inside her.
Mick groaned at the sensation of entering her as Amaya rocked her hips upward to take all of him in. Instinctively, he found a rhythm that finally pushed her so far into ecstasy that she found herself crying out as release finally came and she tightened around his arousal, shaking. Amaya clutched his neck and brought his lips back to hers just in time for him to moan achingly against her mouth as he came, his hands pressing desperately against her back.
After they both lay in near silence for a few minutes, limbs still tangled, the only sound their heavy breathing, Amaya turned to Mick with a smile. "You sure know how to thank a girl," she noted coyly.
"Oh, I'm not done thanking you," Mick assured her, leaning over her as she stroked his strong arms. "I'll thank you all night."
"I'm still feeling rather…grateful myself," Amaya replied. "But first, once I can actually walk," she said in mock accusation, "Dinner?"
"Yeah," Mick grinned, "Dinner!" He stood up, causing Amaya to giggle uncontrollably.
He looked back to find her blushing and shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to put some clothes back on, or we're never leaving this bed and we will both starve," Amaya explained, staring at his body with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Mick raised his eyebrows and climbed back over to her, playfully lifting the sheet to look again at her naked form before answering, "Right back at ya. Although there are worse ways to go."
They managed to make it to the table, Amaya having thrown on one of Mick's soft, broken-in grey henley shirts, rolling the sleeves up and loving the sensation of this fabric that had touched him so often against her own skin. Mick had the audacity to only put his pants back on, for which Amaya planned to make him pay dearly.
"Don't worry," he explained, "I didn't cook this myself. I asked Gideon for help."
"Thank God," Amaya joked, laughing as he scowled jokingly at her. They dug into plates of pasta carbonara, and as Amaya took a sip of red wine, she nodded at Mick's own glass of water. "Where's your drink?" she asked, surprised.
"I'm taking a little break from that," Mick replied self-consciously. "I think I need some time to recover from what was done to my head before I make things any foggier up there."
"I'm impressed," Amaya remarked, "It's so…responsible of you."
"You're not gonna catch me doing anything else to mess this up," Mick promised. "But hey, what do you mean, responsible? Don't go repeating that anywhere," he demanded.
"How about…sweet, kind, and attentive?" Amaya suggested, her eyes sparkling. "And extremely talented in bed?"
"I thought you wanted to eat," Mick pointed out, and Amaya nodded.
"Of course," she explained, "For stamina."
"You're trouble," Mick observed, continually amazed by her.
"Why do you think we get along so well?" Amaya asked. "And by the way, is there dessert?"
"Of course there's dessert," he told her, removing two plates of chocolate cake and strawberries from the small fridge. "What do you take me for?"
"Do you have whipped cream in there as well?" Amaya asked playfully, enjoying the results of her mischief as they played out in Mick's astonished features with her every sexual implication.
"Did I say you were trouble, Vixen?" Mick asked, putting the plates down and kneeling beside her, "I was wrong. You're more than that. You're a dream come true."
