Dis: I don't own LOT!

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Leonard Snart knew when something was wrong. He'd always been able to tell if there was a cog somewhere that wasn't working properly in the environment around him. It was why he'd been such a good thief. He could read people, read their actions, and just know what was coming. Like now, as he leaned against the wall to listen to the latest report on where Savage would be, his eyes found Sara Lance. Her pale skin was still tinged with a light pink from their stint in the Bahamas, but even so he knew the flushed cheeks were not part of her minor sunburn. He was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure she had a fever.

Leonard knew this would happen the day she'd helped him.

He'd been sick, the sickest he'd been in a while, and Sara had taken care of him. Now, it wasn't something he'd asked for: but she'd offered. It had been… Nice… To have someone take care of him for a change and not ask for something in return. He'd been waiting for a week, waiting for her to cash in on the time she spent making tea and making sure he took his medicine.

But it never happened.

When Rip adjourned the meeting, Leonard slowly pushed off the wall with his foot and nonchalantly made his way to Sara. She was rubbing her eyes now, and fighting a yawn. When he came to her side she give him a sideways glance.

"Hey."

"Feeling okay?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

"Yeah, just tired," she said, pulling strands of her hair off her heated neck before giving up and just putting her hair in a ponytail. She hadn't pushed him right away so he didn't push her, just did to her what she'd done to him.

Fixed her with his stare that said he knew better, before nodding. She was stubborn, like him, but like her he could wait. When she didn't show up for dinner he fixed her a plate, ignoring the knowing glances of Kendra and Palmer. Those two needed to get their own life and stay out of his.

He went to her door and knocked. He waited a minute before knocking again and the door opened to Sara dressed in a flimsy tank top and pajama shorts holding a kleenix. Leonard sighed and she gave him a pitiful look.

"I'm sick," she said with an almost pout. Her eyes closed as his much cooler hand touched her heated forehead and she almost purred at the feeling, a shiver traveling down her spine.

"I can see that," he said, walking into her room. "Have you been to the medbay?"

"Yeah, I got some stuff for it," said Sara.

"Good. Get in bed."

"My, Leonard, all you had to do was ask," she said with a cock of her hip, returning a similar line he'd said to her. He shot her an unamused look while fighting a smile. Sara eventually relented and crawled back into bed. Leonard recognized the quilt she'd given to him and he was about to reach for it but Sara shook her head. "I'm too hot for that."

"I brought you some food. Can you handle it?"

"Yeah," she said taking the plate he offered. "Could…" She bit her lip to stop herself from asking. He just raised an eyebrow, an order for her to continue. "You think I could get some ice water?"

"I'll be right back with that."

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"I remember the first time Lisa got really sick." Sara opened her eyes as Leonard started to talk. He'd gotten her ice water when asked, and when she'd started getting cold he'd helped her settle in beneath her covers. She was shivering a little, her fever was breaking. Thankfully, her sinuses weren't hit as hard as his had been, and her coughing had only been minimal. "Scared the hell out of me, seeing her like that. Four years old and puking out everything she ate and drank. Dad was too drunk to drive her to the hospital so we took the bus to the clinic. I remember an older lady helping me find the right route to get there. When I brought Lisa in she'd been dehydrated and so pale…"

Leonard's jaw tightened as he gathered her empty glass and made sure her wastebasket was close with a box of tissues. He'd taken his coat off, had it draping over the back of her chair and his sleeves rolled up. He'd turned the heat up in her room for her when she started getting cold, despite hating it.

"She pulled through, not that Dad cared, he only cared when the medical bill came." He frowned at the memory, rubbing a spot on his arm, and Sara wanted to know why. What did his dad do, that had those phantom sensations start? Leonard blinked and suddenly he was back to working. When done tidying up, he went back to her and she watched as he adjusted her blanket. "Get some rest, Sara. You'll be out for a few hours and feel as good as new when you wake up."

"Thanks," she said, doing what he'd done to her, and reaching out for his hand. He let her take it, his own fingers curling around hers. "I mean it."

"I owed you," he said simply.

"No you didn't," she argued weakly, eyelashes already fluttering closed.

He smiled, a true smile, before releasing her hand. He grabbed his coat, dimmed the lights, and walked out her door. Sara fell asleep, finally feeling warm.

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Leonard was calibrating his gun when she came into the armory. He noticed her cheeks were back to normal and any other sign of her being ill was gone. He wasn't sure what she was up to, though. She had an evil gleam in her eye he wasn't a fan of as she leaned against the table he was working at, palms on either side of his gun.

"Feeling better I see," he said conversationally.

"Much." She nodded, a large smile breaking out that he had to blink to make sure it was there. This was new. Her being so… Open. Alarm bells were starting to ring in his head but he ignored them as he reassembled his weapon. "What are you up to today?"

"Just this," he said. "You?"

Sara shrugged before finally straightening. "Nothing much. Want to play cards? You promised me you'd teach me Omaha."

"We could," he said.

"I'm not playing for money, though. I learned my lesson with you."

He stood while giving her a sly smirk, holstering his weapon, and then nearly jumped out of his skin when she hugged him. Normally, when someone other than Lisa did this, they ended up on the ground begging for their life. He had his hands outstretched, unsure of what to do. A part of him was screaming to run away, to knock her down and put up his shields. But this was Sara… The woman he told about meeting Mick, and Lisa being sick… Whether he liked it or not, she was already past his shields.

So he hugged her back. Not too tight, but enough to consider it an embrace.

"What's this about?" he asked. He knew he was tense, he was trying not to be, but it was hard… Though the way her hands were now traveling up his back… It was helping.

"This is my thank you for taking care of me when you didn't need to."

"I-" He'd almost said he'd owed her. But she'd insisted that he hadn't. "It's no big deal, Sara."

Her hug tightened minutely before she released him. His body tingled where she'd been pressed and some insane part of him wanted to pull her back. He swiftly toldthat part of him to shut the hell up.

"So…" She rubbed her hands together. "Cards?"

"Cards," he agreed.

END