Nyssa still struggles to feel at home on this ship.

In Sara's arms, at Sara's side, that all feels like home.

Elsewhere, apart from Sara, that still feels… awkward. It's chaotic, this time-floating frat-house, and she finds little about which to relate with her fellow crewmates outside of their daily combat training. She can talk music and literature with Professor Stein, certainly, but despite his recent best efforts, she can still feel his discomfort around her. Ms. Jiwe is a capable fighter, and in the context of battle, they get along just fine, but Amaya is closed off and mourning. Nyssa knows from experience that it will not be easy to get to know her, and she herself has never had great prowess in forming close bonds. Drs. Palmer and Heywood are… irksome, most days, despite their earnest kindness. She does her best to breed affection for them, but it is not natural.

Even in the context of the mission, as in the previous week's attempt to discover the processes behind the medallion, Nyssa does not yet understand what she offers the crew besides brawn. She is neither scientist nor historian, and her father closely guarded his mystic knowledge, making her unhelpful on that front as well. She has trained all her life to lead and to kill, but now Sara is leading and killing is frowned upon. They had ascertained the true purpose of the Medallion, a map, with the scientific expertise of Dr. Stein's time aberration daughter (and more chaos, of course) while Nyssa… trained.

Watched Sara and her adorable braids lead quite well, if quite unconventionally. Done not much else.

There is, of course, thankfully, Jefferson.

Jefferson Jackson is Sara's best friend.

It's a strange thing, that Nyssa has known Sara for almost a decade and never seen that sort of relationship play out. The League and its hierarchical nature, and their tendency to get lost in each other, had not left many opportunities to develop such close friendships. Her sister (and that still brings a pang to Nyssa) was different. Felicity is possibly the closest, but their time together was brief, and Nyssa did not get to witness much of it. (From her own, recently developed relationship with Ms. Smoak, Nyssa can appreciate the friendship they could have had.)

But Jax and Sara have a friendship of equals, Sara's captaincy notwithstanding, a deep loyalty built through time and forged in battle.

And Nyssa finds she is actually quite fond of him.

He is a diligent student in her combat training. In return, she asked him to explain the engines to her, to further her studies into time travel and the Waverider herself. He is likewise an excellent teacher.

Sara finds them in the engine room one afternoon, underneath the main containment unit for the time drive, and Nyssa must admit she has no idea how long Sara had been there before she announced herself with a cheeky:

"If you're gonna get greased up and horizontal with my girl, Jax, you could at least close the engine room door."

Nyssa rolls her eyes, but Jax quips:

"Nah, Sara. I tried to convince her of the error of her ways, but she's only got eyes for you."

Sara is grinning so beautifully, so happily, and Nyssa feels light, so incredibly light.

"How are my favorite grease monkeys today?"

Here, with Sara and Jefferson, she does feel like her new normal could some day feel normal, or close to.

"We are working on some very crucial elements of the motivator units and – you are asleep," Nyssa sighs as she rolls herself out, Jax close behind.

Sara adds a fake snore for dramatic effect.

"Knowledge of the ship's inner workings could save your life, habibti," Nyssa chides.

"I know, but I have you two!" Sara defends.

"I've been trying forever," Jax tells Nyssa, handing her a rag from the pile. "She's freaking stubborn."

"I am well aware," Nyssa says archly.

Sara grins at them both.

"Well, I didn't mean to interrupt such important business," Sara begins.

"Nah, we're done," Jax waves her off. He nods to Nyssa. "Thanks for the assist."

"The pleasure is all mine," Nyssa assures him. "I'm going to go clean up before dinner."


Nyssa kisses her cheek on the way out the door, a sign of her comfort level with Jax compared to the rest of the team. Sara keeps grinning as she leaves, her face even starting to hurt from how happy these two make her.

"Thank you. For making Nyssa feel welcome."

"Hey. You love her? I love her. Simple as that." Jax grins. "But she's pretty cool besides."

"Yeah," Sara grins. "She is pretty cool."

"But scary," Jax quickly adds. "Very scary. Yesterday Ray accidentally spilled his coffee on her breakfast. I thought he was going to piss himself. And she didn't even say anything! Just stared."

"Aww, her bark's worse than her bite," Sara lies.

"C'mon. She's been killing people since she was nine."

Sara's surprised Nyssa shared that already with Jax. Surprised, and proud.

"Yeah, okay. Her bite's worse."

She pauses.

"No," Jax says when her grin turns wicked. "Don't even say it."

Sara holds up her hands in surrender.

"Thank you," Jax says. "The rest of the crew will start to see through the scary some day. I mean, most of them. Fifty-fifty on Nate. He may provoke her into killing him first."

"Nyssa will not kill Nate," Sara rolls her eyes.

Jax shrugs. "She might. She'll be justified, though."

Sara punches his shoulder fondly.

"You should go clean up, too. Even time mechanics get smelly."

"Alright, Captain. According to Ray's chore wheel, Mick's cooking tonight, so I hope you like flame-broiled, uh, everything."

"Delicious."


"ETA on our next Spear piece, Gideon?" Sara asks as she and Jax enter the library a few days later on their regular rounds.

"I'm going as quickly as I can, Captain, unless you would like me to reroute power from life support?"

"Lippy this morning, Gideon. I like it."

"I wasn't kidding."

Sara grins. "Alright, let's save that option for last, I-"

The Waverider rocks with the full force of a time quake.

"What now?" Jax complains.

"The origin of the shockwave is December 25, 1776," Gideon announces.

Sara is already hurrying towards the bridge, picking up crewmembers as she goes.

"Washington crossing the Delaware," Nate says like it's Jeopardy.

"Unfortunately, it appears that General Washington was murdered on December 24th."

Sara groans. "That is 100% a trap."

"And if we don't change it, America never exists," Ray counters.

"That does not sound too terrible…" Nyssa comments, and Amaya chuckles.

"The creation of the United States is integral to the timel-" Nate huffs.

"She's joking, Nate," Jax interjects. "I mean mostly."

Nyssa nods to him in understanding.

"Without Washington's sneak attack across the Delaware, the Revolution putters out, and we have no democracy," Ray says.

"Or Hamilton," Nate adds.

"So like I said: trap," Sara nods once, point made.

"Surely you don't suggest we do nothing," Martin frets.

"No, we're going to go save Washington. We're just going to be really careful about it," Sara sighs, heading for the pilot's chair, her team falling in step behind her.

"Where do we even find Washington?" Amaya asks.

Nate starts rattling on about Christmas Eve dinner parties that he apparently just knows about off the top of his head. Sara sighs again and looks over her shoulder. She gives Nyssa a wink before pulling the safety bar over her chest and blasting off for 1776.


It's all hands on deck, and Sara is very proud of herself for not even hesitating before giving Nyssa her assignment. Mick's posing as a Continental Army private, Ray is tiny and buzzing about, and the rest are blending in as guests as they can.

"They all sound more like you than me," Sara grins, sipping on eighteenth century eggnog and eying Nyssa.

"And they are all alarmingly white," Nyssa counters with a raised eyebrow.

"Unless you go into the kitchen," Jax complains, sidling up beside them. "Time travelling while black is a trip."

Sara gives him a sympathetic smile. "Anyone got eyes on our general yet?"

"Not yet, Captain," Stein says in her ear. "Although the lady of the house does report that he has already arrived."

"Alright, split up and keep me updated."

Sara takes an extra moment to watch Nyssa walk away in her 18th century get up and earns a reproachful glare over her shoulder. She grins and turns away, right into General George Washington himself.

"Here comes the General," Sara murmurs under her breath, because Nate and Ray pretty much only listen the Hamilton soundtrack these days.

"Excuse me?" Washington asks politely.

"Good evening, General," she recovers.

"Good evening. It's a lovely party, don't you think?"

"You'd almost forget a war was going on," she replies, and he inclines his head gracefully, acknowledging the shot landed.

"An army runs on its stomach, madam, and my army's is quite empty. Each wealthy donor who I can convert to the cause means lives saved, and tyranny overthrown."

Mick joins them with a half-assed salute, and Sara plunges ahead before Mick can open his mouth.

"Listen, I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to come with us."

"Why would I-?"

A cracking door and machine gun fire cut off her next words. Red Coats with totally era-inappropriate weaponry have taken the house.

"You gotta go," she says, pushing him towards the door. Then to her team at large, "Guys, let's wrap this up, and try not to get any founding fathers killed, huh?"

"No! We should stand and fight," Washington objects as she pushes him into Mick, shoving them both to the door.

"What about founding mothers?" Ray asks.

"Yeah, Captain! The Schuyler Sisters would be so disappointed," Nate teases.

Sara ignores them and shakes her head towards Washington.

"You have somewhere else you need to be. Believe me, the future of the revolution depends on it," she says, flagging down Jax and Nyssa. "I'll stand and fight. You go with them. I'll explain everything later."


Jax, Nyssa, and Mick hustle George Washington out into the cold Christmas Eve night. They come face to face with armed Red Coats led by Rip Hunter in Royal Army colors.

"Pity. I'd hoped I'd run into Miss Lance," Rip says. There is a sinister edge to him that makes Jax queasy.

"Look, Rip, I don't know what the Legion did to you, but-"

Rip pays him no mind, simply leveling his handgun at Nyssa and casually shooting her square in the gut.

"She'll do just as well."

Everything goes still for a moment, and all Jax can think is:

She's so small.

It's a strange thought, in this dire moment, but up until that bullet pierced her flesh, Nyssa had seemed larger than life to him. Strong, imposing, tall but more than that: her presence filled the room, even when she wasn't the one giving the orders.

Until he had to catch her and lift her into his arms, Jax had never considered that he could.

He does, though.

"The Legion has freed me, Jax."

Rip Hunter walks away with Rory and Washington, and Jax scoops up the gut-shot Nyssa and runs towards the Waverider.

"Sara, get back to the ship," he says as calmly as he can.

"I'm a little-"

"Now."

"Don't bother her with-" Nyssa starts in his arms, breath ragged.

"Now, Sara," Jax repeats.

There's a sharp intake in breath over the comms.

"On my way."


tbc