Chapter Three. Takes place during the events of 3x10 - Daddy Darhkest. It is kind of angsty because... well there wasn't much choice, based on the episode. Let me know if you like it. I'm already working on the next chapter. Happier, sexier times to come.

John fucking Constantine.

After her encounter with Mallus (however brief) and the ever-growing to-do list that was Sara's life, he was the last person she felt like running in to. He wasn't a bad guy, really, but it was just a fact that when he showed up nothing good was going to come from it.

A demon that knows her name, eh? Sara wished that she could crawl back into her bed (or into the bottle of scotch she had been enjoying) and act like she had no idea what the demonologist was talking about. She considered it.

'A demon?! What demon?'

Sara was an ex-assassin; she was a very convincing liar when she needed to be.

"You think this has something to do with the demon we're fighting?"

Sara loved Nate like a brother. She also had the urge to slit Nate's throat like a brother when he spoke up without hesitation. So much for playing dumb. The daggers she shot with her eyes were enough to let Constantine know that Sara knew exactly what he was talking about.

So they were going to an exorcism. Sara hadn't been to one since, well, her own. And she was never one to turn down an adventure. She walked through the Waverider, mentally preparing and thinking about how much differently this day could have been going. She rolled her eyes. She couldn't help but think of Ava.

"We're receiving a transmission from the Time Bureau. It's Agent Sharpe. Or should I call her Ava?"

Damn it, Gideon.

Sara couldn't help the little flip in her stomach upon hearing that the agent was reaching out. It somehow no longer mattered why the Agent might be calling; Sara found herself happy to hear from her regardless. When Ava admitted that she could use a little encouragement, Sara was torn between feeling sad (because of the way Ava's expression softened, showing her vulnerability) and elated (because Ava allowed her expression to soften and show Sara her vulnerability.)

"I think what we could both use is a glass of wine."

Yes, Sara realised that she had places to be and exorcisms to assist, but she lived on a time ship, for god's sake. She would fit time with Ava into her schedule whenever she could, damn the consequences. But unfortunately the agent declined. (Reluctantly? Sara swore she seemed reluctant. She hoped.)

Leo's smug whine tore Sara from her fruitless ruminations. Stupid gay instincts.

"That woman clearly has a crush on you."

Sure, Sara had wondered before. Considered if what she saw, if the transition of her relationship with the time agent was all in her head. But if Leo saw something then maybe- just maybe it wasn't a figment of her imagination. The way Ava nervously brushed her hair behind her ear, eyes down, blush forming. It was certainly worlds away from the Agent Sharpe that Sara had met and despised.

But had she ever really despised the woman? Probably not. They were completely different people, as she was quick to point out to Leo. That much hadn't changed. So what if she found herself slightly more willing to follow the rules when Ava was involved? So what if it seemed like Ava was a little more willing to break them? Whatever it was, it could never work. Despite the pull of disappointment she felt upon realizing that, Sara just had to keep reminding herself.

x

It could have been considered a moment of weakness. It was, just not in the way one would assume. It wasn't like Sara was so attracted to John that they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Sara was certain that wasn't the case for John, either. Sleeping with John Constantine served as a reminder for Sara; of who she was, of what she deserved. Two 'damaged' souls, not allowing themselves to become close enough to anyone else to get hurt. With John it was just sex, and it wasn't even sex that she wanted to have a repeat occurrence of.

As Sara sat in the armchair, sipping her scotch and contemplating, she wondered if she was simply punishing herself. Sex with John wasn't bad. But it wasn't anything. And that's what Sara needed. As soon as her lips met John's an image of Ava flashed into her mind. She felt guilt and sadness, like she was betraying the woman somehow. Like she was betraying herself.

Sara pushed the thought far from her mind, blocked the pain she felt at the prospect of hurting the agent. She blocked it with the memory of who she was. Sara Lance didn't deserve to make love. She didn't deserve to be with anyone who actually made her heart skip a beat, her eyes brighten. Not after the things that she had done. There was no time for love or affection. A quick shag in a different decade was all that she could afford. A reminder.

"Gideon, can you get me a line on Ava, please?"

The request slipped from Sara's lips before she could overthink them. She hadn't even realised that she had taken to calling the agent 'Ava' naturally until Gideon asked if Sara wanted some privacy. Despite the day that she'd had and the swirling emotions that she tried to push down, the AI's cheeky suggestion brought a smirk to her face.

The smirk turned to a full-fledged smile upon hearing that the agent was just about to call her. The smile faded quickly upon hearing the tone that Ava held. Sara stepped out of herself when she asked Ava if she wanted to come to the ship; at this point she honestly had nothing to lose, right? But the seemingly negative tone became even more apparent when the agent informed Sara that Rip had escaped. Like Sara needed another stressor today. She found that the tension she felt emanating from Ava (even through an electronic transmission) was the biggest stressor of all.