Ray Palmer studied his fiancée, as they sat together at his kitchen table. He supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised when she took this tale of reincarnating birdpeople and immortal psychopaths, Time Masters and timeline changes, interdimensional travel and alternate Earths, so much in her stride. There had been things about her that disconcerted him when they first met.
He said, rather lamely ''I don't want to leave you.'' He'd more or less decided that he did want to rejoin the Legends - the woman he was looking at was the only thing holding him back.
That was, at least in part, because she'd losses early in her life. Her mother dying when she was young. Her father - a leading member of the League of Assassins - being killed in a duel for leadership of the League a couple of years later. She herself had been shifted from pillar to post, foster home to orphanage, foster home to orphanage, etc., etc.
As she herself put it ''People don't know how to deal with a girl whose idea of a practical joke is to turn inanimate objects into frogs at the worst possible moment. I was an awful teenager.''
It was rather that she was unhappy, he thought, recalling how he'd had to find a way through her prickly, defensive, exterior to find the woman that he'd somehow always known she really was. From his point of view, her presence in his life had healed the wound that had been left by Anna's horrible death - something that Felicity, great as she was, hadn't been able to do.
She gave him a familiar look - one that suggested that perhaps - despite all his high-level science qualifications - maybe he wasn't so bright when it came to practical matters.
''Perhaps you don't have to'' she told him.
X
Sara was also sitting on one side of the table, but she was facing two people, both of whom she was trying very hard to convince that they should agree with what she was suggesting. It didn't seem to be working.
''I'm sorry'' Lyla Michaels said ''I know that I've been flexible in the past when it comes to vigilantes, crises etc - but too much of this appears to be little more than speculation. Add to which you'd be working with known felons - even Oliver can't be absolutely assigned to that category'' she lifted a hand to forestall John Diggle's defense of his friend. ''I can't authorise an A.R.G.U.S. agent taking part in this.''
''Then perhaps I should resign'' Sara said, in quite a sharp tone. So much of her work recently had been in what could only be described as a 'grey' area, whereas this seemed to be a chance to do something that was actually good.
John Diggle leaned over and whispered something in his wife's ear. Lyla looked at him for a moment, then turned back to Sara.
''Could you give us the room for a few minutes Agent Lance?''
Sara nodded and went out into the foyer, getting herself a cup of - pretty horrible - machine made coffee. She had known the husband and wife long enough not to be surprised when she found herself walking out of A.R.G.U.S. HQ twenty minutes later, on indefinite sabbatical. She was listed as an Agent, but Lyla would have - officially - no idea what she was doing.
X
Mick had had reservations - about taking part in this mission per se - and about the interest he noticed that his partner was beginning to take in Sara Lance - again.
''She's an A.R.G.U.S. agent''' he pointed out.' 'That's even worse than the other one.''
''That's long over'' Len pointed out. ''It never had a chance anyway.''
''But you still think about her - at least you don't make those 'secret' late night phone calls anymore.''
He was irritated for a moment that Mick had known about those.
''Then there's all that shite that we got into last time. Plus, you getting killed once was more than enough.''
On the surface, Mick had a point. Hunter had given him memories he could very well have done without. On the other hand, everyone dies.
''You want to do this'' Mick gave him a hard look. ''And for the same reasons as last time.''
He did and, for a moment, it seemed as if they were about to lock horns over this. Then Mick sighed - actually sighed.
''OK - but we agree - no knocking each other out, to kidnapping, no marooning, no threatening to kill relatives, no kamikaze stuff-''
''Absolutely'' he said fervently, wondering if they'd both be able to keep to that.
