Apparently the only thing I am capable of writing is Avalance one-shots. Anyway, the fight between Sara and Ava in "Freakshow" always bothered me a little because I am completely convinced that Sara should have won. The tie always seemed stupid. So here you go.
Teen rating is for language. Also apologies in advance for any errors I missed.
"If you try to bring me in to the Bureau, I'll break your arm. It's up to you: right or left."
Sara's baton clangs against the agent's. She's facing a skilled fighter, strong and fast, clearly very experienced and knowledgeable. Sara's matched blow for blow, not able to turn any advantage into victory. In the very back of her mind, there's the omnipresent calculation: tiny flaws in the agent's guard where a knife could slip through, the angle of her leg where a well-placed kick could displace her kneecap. But Sara keeps the red-tinged instinct at bay and pushes her batons faster, shoulders straining, seeing hair come out of Sharpe's tight bun as she steps back to fend off Sara's offense.
They spin apart, and Sara takes the moment to catch her breath. Across the hallway, Sharpe does the same, spinning her batons and glaring at Sara.
"Sara!"
Sara reaches up to tap her comm, never taking her eyes off her opponent. "Yeah?"
Stein sounds panicked. "I would really appreciate backup."
"I sent Mick with you!"
A note of humor creeps into his voice. "Apparently Mr. Rory has a debilitating fear of clowns. I would be amused if the discovery weren't so untimely."
"Shit," Sara hisses. She glances over at Sharpe, who is waiting almost politely. Her triumphant smirk begs to be wiped off her face, but unfortunately Sara's team has done nothing thus far but prove her right. Sara grits her teeth. "Hang tight, Martin. I'll be there soon."
Sharpe spins her baton. "Ready to let my agents handle it?"
Sara smiles, an angry display of teeth. "Not likely." Then she rushes in.
The agent sets her feet, meeting her speed with steadiness. Her baton flashes to block Sara's attacks, each movement precise and textbook perfect.
Sara doesn't have time for this.
The next time their weapons lock, she slips a hand away and tosses the baton. Blue eyes flick sideways involuntarily, and Sara's hand slips to her belt. She draws a knife, sees the panic as Sharpe notices it and knows she's a second too late. Instinct guides her hand as she makes a slash. Sharpe dodges desperately out of its path, barely avoiding it, and Sara is gratified to have judged correctly.
She follows up her advantage, making an overhand cut that again forces her opponent into a panicked leap backwards, off-balance and finally making mistakes. She feints a third then steps into Sharpe's path: one hand on the shoulder, the other on the forearm, the smallest moment of gathering focus -
With a snap, the bone breaks cleanly. Sharpe cries out in pain, dropping her baton with a clatter. Sara releases her and she stumbles a few steps away before turning angrily, holding her arm gingerly, face pinched in pain.
"What the hell kind of dirty -!"
Sara doesn't let her finish. "My team and I are going to complete this mission. You will stay out of our way." She levels her best threatening glare. "The Medbay is down that hall, Gideon can fix you up, but you had better be gone by the time we get back."
She turns and strides off down the hallway, reaching for her commlink. "On my way."
"Oh!" Stein replies. "Oh, we've got this figured out, Captain."
"We put on quite a show," Jax agrees.
She pauses, just before turning the corner. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."
"Nope," Jax replies. "Not kidding. Why?"
In the silence, the harsh breathing of Agent Sharpe is audible. Sara slowly unclenches her jaw. "I just broke Bureau Lady's arm to come help you," she grits out. "And now you're just suddenly fine?"
Mick's gruff voice sounds next. "Good job, boss."
"No!" Sara immediately replies. Her voice is tight. She breathes out. "No, Mick, not good. I wasn't planning on actually hurting her, so that the Bureau wouldn't hate us more. I did anyway, though, 'cause I was worried about my team. Clearly I shouldn't have been."
"This is bad," Stein agrees. "Oh god, we'll be fugitives forever. They'll take the Waverider and put us in prison - Oh god -"
"Calm down," Sara orders. "Look, just stay at the circus for now. Don't get into any more trouble." She pauses to let that sink in. Then she dons her politest smile. "I'll take care of this."
She turns on her heel. "Agent Sharpe," she greets pleasantly, arms spread wide in welcome. "Most lovely agent - agent - do you have a first name? Let me show you to the Medbay."
Anger, pain, and disbelief are warring on her face. "Are you seriously...?" she asks, incredulous.
Sara smiles, if possible, even wider. "Yes I am. Let's go." She gestures grandly down the hallway.
"I know where the Medbay is," Sharpe snaps. But she heads off down the hallway, and Sara drifts behind her.
Once they're in the Medbay, Sharpe sits in one of the chairs, propping her broken arm on the sideboard. Sara gets out the bio bracelet, goes for her uninjured hand, and she is unceremoniously slapped away. "I'm just trying to help," she protests, as the agent secures the bracelet on her own wrist.
"Oh, sure, helping," Sharpe replies. The blue light from Gideon's sensors casts her face in distorting shadows, but her glare comes across fine. "Helping with the arm that you broke in the first place."
Sara taps her fingers against her leg and studies the awkward angle of the agent's elbow. "Yeah," she sighs. "Hm. Uh, do you want water?"
"Whatever." The agent leans back against the headrest and glares up at the ceiling.
Sara purses her lips, decides to take that as an affirmative, and leaves quickly. In the galley she grabs two of the Waverider's ugly metal mugs and fills them with water, then hesitates in the middle of the kitchen, considering the caged tiger on the table. No brilliant idea presents itself to her, and she sighs.
She enters the Medbay with her smile renewed. "Here," she offers.
Sharpe's head snaps around, but her usual pompous glare is pinched in pain. Her suit jacket is half off, her hands are paused with it part of the way off her injured arm.
Sara returns her gaze to Sharpe's. This time the disapproval is intact, and the too-stiff set of her mouth is reminiscent of Sara's own, the strength that she herself summons to hide shameful weakness.
She gestures vaguely with the cups and comes around to Ava's far side. She sets one down, takes a sip from the other, and asks quietly, "Can I help?"
Wisps of hair stick to the agent's sweaty forehead. Her eyebrows draw angrily down, then slide wearily back to set. "Fine," she sighs.
Sara sets her own mug down. She places one hand on the jacket, the other just above it, and gingerly begins to tug it down. She slides it slowly over the swell of Sharpe's muscles - Sara pauses when she hears a quiet hiss of pain - then continues, slowly and gingerly, patiently sliding a steadying hand down after the fabric. Once past the elbow, it moves easily. She pulls it free, then tosses it into the other chair.
Sharpe reaches across to pick up her mug and takes a sip. She studies the cup rather than making eye contact, sending delicate eyelashes brushing over her cheeks.
"You know Gideon can give you painkillers, right?" Sara offers. Immediately it occurs to her as not the wisest thing to say, but she keeps her wince internal and her expression open and clear.
Sharpe exhales as she tips her cup back down. "I need to be back at work after this. Gotta be clear-headed."
Another unwise thought occurs to Sara, and of course she voices this one too. "Wait a minute. Doesn't the Bureau have this tech too?" She indicates the beam of light that is currently doing some unknown science thing to repair the agent's arm. "I was thinking only the Waverider did, but you do too, don't you?"
The glare has returned, this time with a sarcastic edge.
"Okay, so you do," Sara continues, unruffled. "Then why didn't you just tell me to shove it and get this fixed back at the Bureau?"
Impatience flashes across her face. "Because, Captain Lance," Sharpe snaps, "I don't love the idea of the agents I lead knowing that I let one of the idiot Legends break my arm."
Her words are genuinely upset and angry, which is why Sara makes a sincere effort to hide her snort behind her cup. "You didn't need to let me," she mutters, then adds, louder, "And for what it's worth, none of the rest of your agents would have done any better against me."
"There's that famous Legends ego," is the instant retort. Her eyes are narrow and angry. "Are you always this rude?"
Sara shrugs. "I'm nicer to people that aren't trying to take my ship away."
"It's not your -"
A chime interrupts. "Finished," Gideon announces. "And just in time it seems."
Ava takes the bio-bracelet off her wrist and begins to stand. Sara, for her part, rolls her eyes in the general direction of the ceiling. "It's not like we were going to start fighting again. No reason to be worried, Gideon."
"That's not what I'm referring to," the AI replies, voice extra-pleasant as always it is when she's about to deliver bad news. "The saber-toothed tiger has embiggened."
Sara sets her cup down decisively. "Well, shit."
A snarling sound drifts into the Medbay through the open door. Sara exchanges a glance with Agent Sharpe as they both make their way to the door and look around the corner.
The tiger advances slowly down the hall towards them, fangs bared, making a deep, angry noise. Its eyes are fixed on them. Sara sees Sharpe's glance down the other direction, and she holds up a hand. "Whatever you do, don't -"
The agent takes off, sprinting off down the hallway. With a snarl, the tiger bounds after her. Left in the doorway to the Medbay, Sara sighs to herself. "Run," she finishes.
She pulls Gary's Time Courier out of her pocket and strides over to the monitor. "Gideon, internal cameras," she requests. A video starts playing on the screen, the tiger stalking down a hallway, Agent Sharpe trapped against a closed door at the end of a hallway. Sara types commands into the watch, glancing back up at the screen every few seconds. She sees the tiger's muscles bunch as it prepares to pounce - she enters a third location practically at random - just as it leaps forward, she activates the Courier and dives through the gateway, tackling the agent through a second portal. It closes behind them as they crash to the ground inside the Waverider's brig.
Sara scrambles to her feet. Sharpe's already yelling, angry about the stolen Courier, but Sara takes her time brushing herself off. "You're just angry 'cause I saved your life, again," she smugly replies. Now she has double insurance Sharpe won't tell her superiors about this - doubtless the only thing worse than being defeated by an "idiot Legend" is being saved by one.
Gideon cuts off the inevitable retort. "Captain Lance. I hate to interrupt, but I thought you'd like to know that the tiger has exited the Waverider and is currently hunting locals in 1870 Wisconsin."
Sharpe is speechless with disbelief. Sara calmly smirks back at her. "My team's on it."
"They can't do anything right!" the agent explodes. "They will always create more problems for themselves. And one day Rip will realize that and give up on the ridiculous belief that your team could actually defeat -" Just as her fury is about to crescendo, she abruptly stops herself. She begins to tuck her loose hair back into her bun with sharp, impatient movements. "You know what? This ship is going to be taken away from you very soon, Miss Lance. Again."