"Director Sharpe?" Gary said, poking his head into Ava's office. "Are you in there?"

Ava looked up from the stack of reports on her desk. "Come on in, Gary."

He walked fully inside, balancing a large binder clumsily in his arms as he approached her. "Good morning, Director," he said cheerily. "I heard you got in extra early today. Do you need anything? Coffee?"

Ava pointed to the nearly empty coffee mug on her desk. "Already taken care of. And it's fine, I just had a ton of paperwork to get through for some construction in Heyworld. I've got enough on my plate with all the rifts without adding a million permits for a magic city on top of it." She sighed exhaustedly, then looked up at the binder in Gary's hands. "What's that?"

He held it out to her with a grand, dramatic gesture. "The answers to your questions! Well, some of them, anyway."

Ava took the binder and opened it to the first page. Her eyes widened as she read it. She looked back up at Gary. "These are all of Leonard Snart's records," she said.

"Yes…ish."

"Ish?"

"Well, it's very strange," Gary explained, "but I noticed while searching that, while I could easily access information about him from 2015 and 2016, nothing was available before that. It was like he never existed before 2015."

Ava raised her eyebrows. "What? That's impossible. Of course he existed."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Gary clarified. "After a little digging, I came to the conclusion that, at some point in early 2015, all online records of Leonard Snart were erased. I don't know if he erased them, or if someone else did, but that's the only explanation that would make sense. Fortunately," he said reassuringly, "we work at a time travel agency, which means that's not really a problem for us."

Ava smiled, more impressed than she wanted to admit. "Nice work, Gary. What did you do? Recalibrate our servers with time travel technology to access the internet on a date before the records probably disappeared?"

Gary nodded proudly. "Yep! IT is still processing it, but by the end of the day, we should have access to all of his information pre-2015. Of course," he added with a little hesitation, "if I could use Gideon, we would have access immediately. Her historical research technology is unparalleled even by the Bureau…"

"I said not to involve the Legends, Gary," Ava reminded him sternly.

"Right." He looked down sheepishly, dropping his argument. "Well…what you have in front of you is everything I could find from 2015 and on. It's not much, but there are some pretty major things in there."

"Like what?"

"Open it," Gary urged. "You'll see."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Gary, not everything has to be a dramatic reveal." She turned to the second page of the binder and read it through. Her eyes grew wide again and she straightened up in her chair and gasped. "Arrested for the murder of Lewis Snart," she read aloud. "Apprehended by the Flash after killing his father during an attempted robbery." She faced Gary again. "He's a murderer. We have a murderer running loose through time and space." She skimmed through the next few pages. "That's not to mention all the other crimes this says he's wanted for. Theft, destruction of property, escape from prison, breaking and entering, more theft…and that's all just from two years. Why?" she asked herself, forgetting for a moment that Gary was in the room. "Why would Captain Lance ever let a guy like this near her?"

"Um…why are we talking about Captain Lance?" Gary asked confusedly.

Ava frowned at him. "I told you before. She's been keeping secrets about him. Now, I think I know why." She closed the binder and took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "She didn't want to tell me that she was bringing him back because she knew I wouldn't approve of a criminal like him joining the Legends. Think about it: on the Waverider, Leonard Snart has access to all of Gideon's resources. Someone with a record like this," she tapped on the closed binder with her finger, "shouldn't have that kind of power. It's a disaster waiting to happen."

Gary thoughtfully considered her words for a moment, then responded, "What about Mick Rory?"

"What about him?" Ava asked, surprised at the question.

"Well, he was a pretty bad guy before, wasn't he?" Gary shrugged optimistically. "If he's a good Legend now, then maybe Leonard Snart will be the same. I mean, Rip did recruit both of them, didn't he? Maybe Snart is good now, too."

Ava glanced down at the binder, then back at Gary. "Anything is possible," she said slowly, "but here's the difference between Leonard Snart and Mick Rory: we know Mick. We have worked with him for years. We've seen him cooperate, however reluctantly, with the Bureau, and we know that, at the end of the day, with enough direction from the other Legends, he will usually do the right thing. Usually. Snart on the other hand? We know nothing about him except the fact that Rip decided he would be useful against Vandal Savage for some reason, the fact that Captain Lance decided not to tell me anything about him even when she was putting the whole timeline at risk for his sake, and the things in this binder. I can only work with the information I have, and so far, none of it makes me want to trust him." She paused thoughtfully, then continued in a quieter voice, "All the same, she cares about him. I don't know why. He's uncooperative, arrogant, and incredibly disrespectful. But as soon as he's back in her life, protecting him – a murderous criminal – suddenly becomes priority number one for her? I just…I just don't get it."

Gary grew concerned as he listened to his boss ramble. He inched closer to the desk. "Are you okay, Director Sharpe? You sound a little, uh…tense."

She blinked, then shrugged dismissively. "I'm fine, Gary."

"Are you sure?" He leaned in toward the desk. "No judgment or anything, but obsessing over murderers is kind of your thing. You might be slipping into that just a smidge." He held up his thumb and index finger with a very small space between them. "A very tiny smidge."

"What? Me? Obsessed?" Ava scoffed. "The only thing I'm interested in is making sure a very dangerous person isn't tearing down everything the Legends and the Bureau have worked for. That's called doing my job, not obsessing. If anything, I'm trying to prevent Captain Lance's obsession with protecting and hiding Snart from derailing our shared mission to repair time."

Gary hesitated. "I understand that, and you know I have nothing but respect for you and the way you run this Bureau. That being said, isn't this slightly overkill? It just seems like you're a little too focused on Captain Lance's involvement with him. Maybe you could use a little space from working with her, and that's coming from someone who is very much still shipping you two."

"I can work with Captain Lance," Ava insisted. "I just want to understand what's going on with Snart. Things aren't adding up and I want to know why. It's for her sake, too. He's dangerous. He could harm her, not to mention the rest of the Legends and the timeline."

Gary nodded understandingly, no longer putting up a fight against his boss. "I see. So, uh, what are you going to do about that?"

"There's not much I can do at the moment," she said, sounding a little disappointed about that fact. "IT is still digging up his other records. I'm not going to rush in and react without all the information, especially while Captain Lance is on his side. Until I'm sure I've fully assessed everything, I just need to keep an eye out for trouble from him."

"That makes sense," Gary replied. "In that case, will you need anything else from me?"

"No, thanks," Ava said. As Gary turned to leave, she changed her mind. "Wait! There's one other thing you can do. It's a little out of the ordinary, so don't feel obligated if it's too much trouble."

"Of course," he said eagerly, dropping all previous signs of concern. "You know I love getting special missions, Director. What is it? A secret task force? An undercover investigation? A little magic? I am an intern of the dark arts, you know." He grinned proudly as he mentioned the title given to him by John Constantine.

Ava's serious face broke into an amused half-smile. "Oh, Gary. You really do live for the drama." She opened the binder again and skimmed the first page. "This says Snart lived in Central City his whole life. He may have been able to erase evidence of his existence from the internet, but he couldn't possibly erase the memories of every single person he interacted with in his hometown." She looked back up at Gary. "I want you to go to Central City. Ask around about him. Figure out where he used to hang out, who he associated with, what else people knew about him. Anything. No need to spend more than a day, though. I need you back here with all the work that's piling up. Just take today and report what you find tomorrow morning."

"Ah, a quick trip to Central City," Gary said. "Excellent. I always love an excuse to play tourist." He quickly added, "Not that I'd actually be one, of course. I'll be strictly in business mode all day. Very professional."

"Uh-huh," Ava said, squinting at him skeptically.

"In fact," he said, "I'll prove it by going right now. That'll give me the whole day to do my very serious, not at all touristy work."

"Gary, you don't have to…"

He opened a portal with his time courier. "Off I go," he said cheerfully. "Time for a very important mission that I am not at all going to be distracted from. Bye, Director Sharpe!" He waved at her, then stepped into the portal to present-day Central City, letting it close behind him the second he was through.


Leonard studied the various machines and medical equipment surrounding Ray in the lab suspiciously. "Wow. You've really gone full mad scientist, haven't you?"

Ray simply smiled back patiently. "Oh, Snart. Always ready with the one-liners. I didn't realize how much I missed that."

"You're too sweet," Leonard said, his voice completely deadpan.

"Anyway," Ray said, moving on, "this should all be pretty easy. Some of it might feel weird, but it shouldn't hurt. I think."

Leonard arched his eyebrows skeptically. "You think?"

"Don't panic, Snart," Nora said from where she stood against the nearest wall. "Ray knows what he's doing."

"He'd better," Leonard muttered. He then turned to face Nora. "And what are you doing here?"

She waved at him. "Sara said to make myself useful, so I'm going to be Ray's lab assistant for the day."

Ray grinned at her. "Cutest lab assistant ever."

She blushed. "Oh, stop."

"I mean it, Nora."

"You're such a dork. But I love you."

"Aw, I love you too!"

I still don't understand this, Leonard thought as his eyes darted back and forth between the couple. "Yeah, whatever," he said, changing the subject. "Can we just get this over with?"

"Sure," Ray said, still smiling. "Just have a seat over here." He gestured to a chair beside the nearest table. "And then we can get started." Leonard sat down as directed. Ray was honestly surprised at how little convincing that took. He looked back at Nora. "Babe, can you get the tray of supplies on my desk? The big one?" While she obeyed, he faced Leonard again. "You're going to need to take your jacket off, or at least roll up your sleeves."

Leonard scowled and stiffened uncomfortably. "Why?"

"Because I need to take a blood sample, and the best place to get it from is your arm. I can't exactly reach the spot with three layers of clothes over it."

Leonard sighed. "Fine." He reluctantly removed his jacket and rolled up just enough of the two remaining layers covering his right arm to give Ray the access he needed.

While Ray prepared the test, Sara stuck her head in through the doorway. Leonard looked up as soon as he noticed her, glad to be distracted from Ray getting ready to poke him in the arm. "Ah, Captain," Leonard said. "I trust nothing's blown up in the team's collective faces yet?"

She smiled amusedly. "No, but it's still early." She stepped inside but stayed close to the doorway. "I just thought I'd check in on you after sending the away team off. How's everything going?"

"Hold still," Ray said quietly. "It shouldn't be too bad…"

"I'm not scared of needles, Raymond," Leonard said, rolling his eyes. "Do I look like a kid to you?" Ray decided not to respond and silently inserted the needle into Leonard's arm. Leonard winced, more as a reaction to Ray touching his bare skin than the actual pricking sensation of the needle, and then looked back at Sara. "Which do you think is more likely: Mick stealing everything worth anything in that palace, or just burning the whole thing down?"

"I would hope that Nate, Mona, and John will stop him from doing either of those things," she replied.

"They can try."

"They'd better try." She took a step back toward the doorway. "I'll be back later. Let me know if you need any help in here."

Leonard raised his eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

"To check on Zari's progress," she answered. "You're not the only teammate I have to keep out of trouble, you know." She smirked jokingly at him, then turned around and left the room.


Mick fidgeted in his seat in the jump ship. He was dressed in elegant enough attire to fit in at the Imperial Court, and it was clearly making him uncomfortable. "I'm not wearing a stupid wig," he said grumpily.

"It's part of the look," Mona insisted, trying to hand the powdered wig he had discarded back to him. "You need it."

"She's right," Nate said from the pilot's seat without looking back. "Walking around with a bald head would make you stick out like a sore thumb. Even kids wore wigs in places as fancy as this."

John looked down at his own outfit and examined it. "This still feel like too much, mate."

"Why?" Mona asked. "I think you look good."

"I look good in everything, love," John replied. "But I'd look better in a trench coat."

"Once again, Constantine, no one would wear a trench coat at the Imperial Court of Vienna in 1762," Nate stated, repeating himself for at least the third time since getting into the jump ship.

John crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "Bloody costumes."

"Why is this such a big deal to you, Pretty?" Mick asked. "At least Elvis was rock and roll. This is the kind of music that puts you to sleep. Boring."

"First of all, there's nothing boring about it," Nate corrected him. "Second, you'd be surprised how much influence classical music has had on pop culture." A green light flashed on the dashboard in front of Nate. "Yes! We're here," he announced. He flipped a switch on the right side of the dashboard. "Cloaking is on. Prepare to land."

Nate guided the jump ship down into an open space in what appeared to be a very large, extravagant garden. As they stepped out of the cloaked ship, they found themselves surrounded by carefully trimmed hedges and rose bushes. "Okay," Mona said, looking around slowly. "What do we look for first? The rift, or Mozart?"

"We'd better make sure the kid's safe," John said. "If whatever the rift spat out already got to him, we'll have a lot more to fix."

The group heard high-pitched laughter and froze. Out from behind one of the rose bushes ran a very small boy in a tailored blue suit appropriate for the mid-1700s. He stared at them for a second, then laughed again and ran toward them. "Hello!" he said, grinning ear to ear. The Legends had taken pills produced by Gideon that allowed them to communicate with locals as if in English, but they could still hear a German accent in his tiny voice. "Did you see my sister?"

The four of them exchanged confused glances. "Uh…no?" Nate answered, speaking for the group.

The boy held a finger to his lips. "Shh! Hide and seek." He sprinted away and disappeared behind another rose bush.

"Aw, that was so cute," Mona cooed. After a beat, her eyes widened as the realization hit her. "Wait! Guys! That was Mozart!"

Nate facepalmed. "It totally was. How did I miss that?"

"Should we follow him?" Mick asked.

"Absolutely," Nate replied. "We can't let anything happen to that little guy. He could be in trouble."

Nate led the group around the rose bushes. The boy had already moved on, but they spotted the end of his little blue coattails as he rounded a hedge corner across the garden. They followed him at a slight distance to avoid suspicion, paying close attention to his behavior.

"He seems normal," Mona observed.

"Yeah, for a six-year-old," Constantine agreed. "He's just running around having a good time."

"Doesn't seem like he's in danger," Mick pointed out.

"Well, if we leave without finding whatever got through the rift, it might not stay that way," Nate argued.

"Wolfgang!" they heard a loud voice call out. "Where are you?" The Legends ducked behind a nearby hedge to avoid being seen as the little boy ran out of hiding and into the open. A tall man entered the garden with a stern look on his face. "Wolfgang," the man scolded, "you have been outside for too long. It's time to practice."

The young musician pouted. "But father, I have to find Nannerl. It's hide and seek!"

"Nannerl needs to practice as well," his father replied. "She will join you soon. You both have a big night tonight and I will not have you show up ill-prepared."

"But I haven't found her yet."

"You can play with your sister after you have shown the nobles your talent. Now, come."

Wolfgang continued to pout but did as his father said. He followed him inside, dragging his feet but not otherwise resisting. After the boy had entered the nearest building, his father turned to a servant standing by the door and said, "My daughter is somewhere in the gardens. If you see her, send her inside immediately." The servant nodded obediently.

Nate peeked over the top of the hedge at the elegant building a short distance away. "New plan," he said quietly, ducking back down behind the hedge. "We go inside, then split up. Two of us can stick around the Mozart family and make sure nothing happens to little Wolfgang while he's practicing. The other two can search the palace for the rift. Deal?"

"Deal," the other three Legends said simultaneously.

Since they were already within the outer boundaries of the estate and dressed to blend in with the other courtiers and guests around, entering the indoor section from the garden wasn't very difficult, although it did involve behaving as inconspicuously as possible while avoiding eye contact with the servants. Once inside, Mona and John went one way to follow Wolfgang while Nate and Mick headed the opposite direction in search of the rift.


Mick and Nate strolled unassumingly through the many corridors of the elegant palace. Once they began to encounter more people, Mick reluctantly took Nate's advice and donned the powdered wig he had so adamantly fought against. "All these people here to see some kids' recital," he said. "Sounds dumb. And boring."

"It's not, Mick," Nate assured him, scanning the walls and ceiling carefully for anything that looked similar to a rift. "The Mozart children are like rock stars. Cute, small, very young rock stars. Hey!" He paused his search as he noticed Mick reaching for a decorative porcelain vase toward the far side of the corridor. He ran over to him and pushed his hands away. "You can't go around robbing palaces, dude," he hissed. "A guard could see you."

"Well, I don't see a rift to shut," Mick argued, "so what else am I going to do?"

"Hm...how about not stealing?"

Mick grunted and muttered something unintelligible. "Why don't you try calling somebody?" he asked. "Then we'd know if we're near the rift and can finish this whole thing faster."

Nate's face brightened. He snapped his fingers. "That's genius, Mick! I knew I could count on you." He activated his comms and called Mick. "Are you picking this up?" he asked. "Or is it static?"

Mick listened for a moment. "Yeah, I hear you. Through the thing and your voice."

"Okay," Nate said with a nod. "That means the rift is still far away." He spun around, taking one last look at the area, then pointed forward. "Let's keep going. We can keep checking comms until we find it. Mick!" He reached out and pulled Mick's arm away from a very valuable-looking bust. "No stealing."

"Not even a little?"

"No."

Mick scowled. "We'd better find that rift soon, then, Pretty. Being in a place like this without stealing might be even more boring than classical music."

"It's not bor– you know what? We're going to move on." Nate pointed down the corridor again. "Let's go." The two of them continued on their way through the palace, checking their comms frequently.


Mona and Constantine wandered the hallways, weaving between elegantly clothed nobles and their guests. After some time, they heard the sound of a harpsichord being played. They followed that sound until they located the room Wolfgang was practicing in. It was behind an ornate door that was cracked just enough for them to see inside when they stood close to it. Wolfgang concluded his piece, then hopped off the bench and bowed grandly to his father, who was watching him closely.

"Aw, look at that," Mona whispered, leaning in toward Constantine. "Isn't he adorable? He's so tiny. And he's got his little suit and his chubby cheeks…"

Constantine rolled his eyes, then shrugged and said, "I don't care how cute he is, but the child's got talent. Anyone with ears can tell."

Wolfgang's father nodded approvingly at him as the boy straightened up from his bow. "Not bad. You've improved greatly since last time."

"Can I look for Nannerl now?" Wolfgang asked. "Please?"

"You have three more pieces to practice for tonight," his father reminded him. "They must be perfect before you perform them at court."

"Why isn't Nannerl practicing too?" Wolfgang asked. He stomped his tiny feet. "It's not fair!"

"Behave yourself, Wolfgang," his father warned. "Your sister will practice as soon as she comes back inside. Her delays do not excuse you from your responsibilities. Both of you are performing tonight, not just her. Now, next piece."

Wolfgang sat back down in position to play. He took a breath as if about to start, but then he stopped himself. He turned to face his father. "I can't play without Nannerl," he stated. "I can't. I won't."

"Why not?" his father asked. "The next piece is not a duet."

"I can't," Wolfgang replied, which was seemed to be reason enough in his six-year-old mind.

"Yes, you can."

"No!"

His father sighed exasperatedly. "Very well. I will go out and look for her myself. But if I come back inside and I do not hear you practicing…" He didn't finish his sentence, but the grave look on his face was enough to do so on its own.

Mona and John quickly darted out of the way as the man approached the door they were peering in through. They hid around the corner until they heard his footsteps leave the hallway. Once he was gone, they stepped back toward the door. "Talk about a stage dad," John muttered.

"At least Wolfgang seems fine," Mona said. "Whatever the rift let in, it hasn't affected him."

"Psst!" they heard Nate's voice hiss. They turned around and saw Nate and Mick walking briskly toward them. "Did you find Mozart?" Nate asked once he was closer. "Wolfgang, I mean. Not his dad."

John nodded his head toward the door behind them, which was still cracked open. The young musician had begun practicing again and the sound was clearly audible. "In there, mate."

"What about the rift?" Mona asked. "Did you guys find it?"

Nate activated his comms. "Have we found it Mick?"

Mick listened to his own comms for a second, then replied, "Nope."

Nate shrugged. "Well, there you go." He gestured around the hallway. "Obviously, we haven't covered the whole space yet. This place is huge. But we have covered a good chunk and still haven't found anything."

"Didn't you say you never found a rift matching this anomaly on the list?" John asked. "Sounds to me like there might not be one at all."

Mick grimaced menacingly at Nate. "You better not have wasted my time, Pretty. I could've been stealing all day instead of your wild goose chase."

"It's not a wild goose chase!" Nate insisted. "Gideon definitely detected that something was wrong on this day and at this location."

"Then Gideon's wrong," Mick said, still grimacing.

"Gideon's never wrong," Mona replied. "Maybe whatever happened is so tiny, it didn't really affect anything. After all, nothing seems to be out of the ordinary."

"This is most out of the ordinary," Wolfgang's father's voice echoed through the space. The Legends exchanged glances, then ducked back behind the same corner that Mona and John had hidden behind before. The man walked past them alongside a woman. Judging by their apparent closeness, the Legends guessed she was his wife. They stopped walking and stood still, near enough to allow the Legends to eavesdrop. "Nannerl has never skipped practice before," he continued. "She's normally even more diligent than her brother."

"And you're certain you looked all over the gardens?" the woman asked. "Perhaps she simply did not hear you call."

"I looked everywhere," he insisted. "I'll do it again, but I doubt I would have missed her."

"Oh dear," she said, her expression showing significant concern. "Where could she have possibly gone to?"

"She couldn't have left the palace," he pointed out. "Even if she knew the layout well enough to leave, the guards would have noticed and stopped her."

"She may have wandered into another wing and become lost," she suggested. "Nannerl is a smart girl, but a place of this size could be confusing for her. That must be it. If not, well, it's not like she disappeared into thin air, is it?"

"Certainly not," he agreed. He glanced at the door, listening to the musical sounds coming out of it. "I'll continue searching. We must find her soon."

"Indeed."

The couple began walking again and disappeared from view. The Legends emerged again from their hiding spot. "Guys," Nate said slowly, "I think I know what's going on."

"What?" Mona asked.

"Something interesting, I hope," John said.

"We were looking for the wrong thing," Nate explained. "We've only ever been able to detect rifts from the side that releases the anachronisms. That's what happened here. We can't find the rift because this isn't where it ends. It's where it starts."

"What are you saying, Pretty?" Mick asked, more intrigued than he showed.

"I'm saying that the anomaly isn't from an anachronism being dropped off here," he continued. "It's because a rift got something – or someone – removed from this time and dropped off in another era."

"Someone, eh?" John repeated, nodding understandingly. "Ah, I see."

"That's right, John," Nate said. "We were looking for the wrong member of the Mozart family. Wolfgang Amadeus is doing fine in 1762, but his big sister is missing. And that's because she's an anachronism."