Summary - After the latest mission, Sara ends up getting the flu, much to Leonard's amusement… until she demands that he take care of her. Oh dear.

Inspired by me currently feeling under the weather. Have been for the last few days. Feeling a lot better though.

I don't own Legends of Tomorrow.

Enjoy!

"Stop laughing! It isn't funny!" Sara's voice is hoarse as she coughs and sniffles.

Leonard stands in the doorway of her room, watching the current Captain of the Waverider lie in her bed on the other side of the room, covered in blankets. The smirk on his face tells it all, but really, it's his eyes that show the most concern.

He looks away briefly, "I'm not laughing because you're sick, Lance. I'm amused by the fact that the same woman who was twice taught by the League of Assassins can be knocked down by the common cold."

"Mr. Snart, what our Captain is experiencing is more than the common cold, I'm afraid. In this time, no vaccinations were available to treat this sort of flu. For the meantime, I cannot prescribe Miss Lance with anything until we are back in the time stream."

"And until I'm back to full health-" Sara pauses to cough, which lasts nearly a full minute, much to her frustration and Snart's further amusement. "-We're not going anywhere." She groans loudly.

"You know, you didn't have to finish that sentence. I think Gideon and I understood what you were trying to say."

Leonard's very grateful for the fact that it's a pillow Sara chucks at his head instead of a knife. Despite her current state, her aim is still as sharp as ever.

He smirks however, catching the pillow with both hands, "Ouch."

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me." The angry glare that's thrown his way is actually enough to make him close his mouth.

Then her expressions softens, her voice almost begging as she asks, "Can you take care of me?"

Leonard Snart's face hardens in surprise, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted.

What?

Although he really does care about this woman, taking care of someone when they're sick wasn't something he agreed on. Even when his own little sister was sick, he barely helped out then.

Something about the germs...

He looks away once more, down at his fidgeting hands, "I don't do colds."

"Your nickname is Captain Cold. I beg to differ," Sara dryly points out.

"Yes but that's because I have soft side for things cold. Having a cold is different."

"You signed up for it when we got together."

"I don't remember signing on the dotted line."

"Leonard freakin' Snart." She grumbles. Although he knows that Sara didn't actually say the middle word, Snart likes to think she did.

Sara Lance is always hot. But in this state, her being... grumpier than ever, is somewhat a turn on for the crook.

Of course, telling her that now will only torture him further.

Leonard looks back at her, the latter looking at him and waiting for his response to her question. Her eyes wide as dinner plates, silently begging for the man to agree to take care of her.

Finally, he says, "Fine, what do you need?"

The smile on her face makes him beg in his mind that taking care of her will all be worth it.

"Get me a glass of water please."

Leonard turns on his heel, already heading out to fulfill Sara's request.

Two hours later…

"I'm cold!" Sara whines, her body shivering as she looks over Leonard lounging on her chair at her desk.

He looks up from his cold gun, notices how much she's shivering, and jumps to his feet, the cold gun forgotten as he walks up to her bed, "Okay, okay, settle down." Captain Cold brings up two blankets, burying the tops of them underneath her chin. He runs a hand over her forehead, "Better?"

"Slightly," she only grumbles, although her teeth start to not chatter as much.

"Good." Leonard turns and heads back to the desk.

He's only able to sit down on the chair when Sara yells once more.

"Hot! I'm hot!" He's up so fast, he could rival Barry Allen's, aka the Flash's, speed as he helps Sara pull the blankets off her, trying to not get kicked himself in the process. Then, when she's settled once more, he runs a hand over her forehead again. He picks up on how warm she is and nearly races to the bathroom to wet a flannel.

"What are you doing?" She asks with a sniffle.

"You're forehead's a bit too warm for my liking."

"Well that's not a surprise," she groans, "You despise the heat."

She nearly leaps out of bed when something cold and wet is thrown onto her face, covering her forehead and eyes.

"You know what to do if you need something."

Sara closes her eyes, listening to Leonard's footsteps fade away before hearing the squeak of her chair as he sits down on it.

Deep down, the woman's finding it hilarious that Captain Cold is actually taking care of her. She wants to thank him already, even though she knows this flu that she's caught is going to last longer than just a measly two hours.

"Len?"

The chair squeaks as he turns in it, "Yes?"

"I'm cold."

Two days later...

"Can you fix up my pillows please?"

Snart grumbles, but doesn't make any other noise as Sara sits up, allowing him to grab the one she's been sleeping on and adjust it further upwards so she can sit up instead on lying down.

For two days, he's been at her beck and call. For two days, she's made him do whatever she damn well wants. And for two days, he hasn't been able to complain about it considering the fact that he know's she's keeping a knife or two somewhere in her bed.

Then again, for two days he himself hasn't had the want to not help her.

"You can't do this yourself?" Leonard asks, although he knows the answer.

Sara sniffles, "I'm sick, Leonard."

Leonard huffs, putting the pillow back and stepping away from the bed, "Must you be so demanding?"

The next thing Snart knows is that she's got a grip on his collar and their lips are barely touching.

Now Leonard's really complaining inside his head.

"Be a good boy and go get me some ice cream, please."

Snart cocks his head to the side, the corner of his mouth twisting up, "Oh Canary, I thought I heard you say once that you preferred the bad bo-"

"French Vanilla," She snarks, letting go of his collar as she pushes him away, "Chocolate sprinkles too."

The smirk on Snart's face has yet to disappear, much to Sara's frustration, "What?"

He thins his lips for a moment, a thoughtful expression crashing over onto his features as he decides on another way to stir her up. Then he turns around, waving his hand around as he speaks, "Vanilla, chocolate sprinkles. Gotc-"

"French Vanilla and chocolate sprinkles," Sara corrects him with a growl.

Snart pauses in the middle of the room, looking of his shoulder slightly, "Ahh right, sorry. My mistake." He begins walking again. "French Vanilla, no sprinkles."

Again, Snart's thankful that's only a pillow Sara throws and hits the back of his head, "If you do that one more time, I'll drill it into your brain so you never forget."

Leonard pauses as the doors slide open, licking his lips, "Trust me, Lance… this is only the beginning."

Sara only groans at the response when he disappears and the doors slide shut.

"So… Sara's sick?"

"Yep."

"And… you're taking care of her?"

"Yep."

"And she's got you getting her a bowl full of ice cream and sprinkles? And that's not even the start of it?"

Mick laughs loudly, stopping Ray from asking another question when he plants his bottle of beer down onto the table, "Boss! You got yourself whipped!"

"Shut your damn mouth, Mick," Leonard warns.

Amaya looks at Mick with a confused expression, "What does that mean?"

"Don't you dare tell her what-" The man turns around too late, finding Mick whispering in Amaya's ear, "-It means…"

The dark-skinned woman's face changes from confusion to a surprise and somewhat shocked expression. Then, as Mick finishes what he's saying and leans back into his chair with his feet back up on the table, she looks up at the former crook with pure amusement.

"Oh yeah, you really are getting whipped!"

Leonard rolls his eyes, looking at Ray, the only one who doesn't have a beer in his hands. The man looks back at him, raising his arms innocently, "What?"

"Thank you Raymond… for keeping your mouth shut."

Ray grins, nodding his head, "You're welcome Leonard."

The former crook looks at him carefully. The man's planning something and Snart can see it. But for now, he just grabs the bowl now filled with ice cream and sprinkles as well as a spoon, making his way to the doors of the galley.

"Oh and Snart?"

The man turns at Ray's call, finding him with his body half turned and looking at him as well as Mick and Amaya. Then he smirks, "Gideon, you wanna help me on this one."

The crack of a whip is heard from the AI...as well as Ray making the action as if he really did have it in his hand.

Mick laughs loudly once more, Amaya joining him as Leonard breathes in deeply to stop himself from grabbing the cold gun sitting on his leg. His face emotionless as he stares at the man who owns the Atom suit, who's grinning at the sight.

"You better make sure that the next time I see you, I don't have the cold gun with me." With that said, Leonard turns once more storming out of the galley.

And as if that wasn't enough, Gideon also decides to slam the doors closed to wind the former crook up further.

"Gideon! Must you?!" Is all that's heard on the other side of the door.

Amaya continues laughing while Mick sits up properly, clasping Ray on the shoulder, "I don't like you sometimes Haircut, but the look on Snart's face has certainly made my day." Then he holds out his empty bottle of beer, planting it in front of Ray, "Now, go get me another six pack of beers."

Ray stands quickly, his chair falling back behind him, "Yeah, sure thing."

Amaya chuckles quietly, watching Ray go around the counter and mutters, "Whipped."

Ray snaps around at the mutter, a face of horror while Mick's laughter continues. And to add insult to injury, Gideon plays the whip cracking sound once more.

When the doors slide open to her room, Sara raises an eyebrow at Leonard's pissed off facial expression. Dropping her book onto her lap, she asks, "Who ticked you off?"

"I'll give you one guess."

The White Canary half laughs, half coughs as she sits up, "Ray?"

Snart nods, "And not just him."

"Mick's involved, isn't he?"

"And Amaya." Leonard sighs as he leans up against the bed, the bowl of ice cream placed beside Sara. "Mick complained when I started making friends. And now look!"

He waits for Sara's response, but finds her digging her spoon into the bowl. Looking up, he finds the woman in some sort of relief, her eyes shut as she takes in the taste of french vanilla in her mouth and down her throat.

She opens her eyes to find Snart, an amused expression on his face while hers is covered with innocent confusion, "Hmm?"

Leonard rolls his eyes, "I said, Mick complained a lot when I made friends. Now look where he is. He's got two best buds in Ray and Amaya. How about that, huh?"

"Are you listening to yourself?" Sara asks, "You say that Mick's the one complaining but you can't talk the talk either. You've been complaining just as much!"

"Have not!"

"Have too!"

Leonard narrows his eyes at the woman, his hands interlocking, "You shouldn't be whining about my complaining. The only friend I made was you."

Sara's ears perk up, "Was?"

"Well, technically, you're not really my friend now."

"Leonard Snart, are you finally deciding on whether or not to refer to me as your official girlfriend?"

"I'd take you a lot more seriously if you weren't lying in bed stuffing your face with ice cream," Leonard dryly answers. Sara only rolls her eyes at the answer. Then he stands up, placing his hands palms down onto the bed, "But, if we're being serious now, then I guess this is me calling you my official girlfriend. If that's what you want, of course."

Sara actually smiles, the faint redness of a blush appearing. She pats the space beside her, "Get up here you!"

He does what he's told, getting up on the bed as she moves over slightly. He stretches his legs out and wraps an arm around her shoulders when she snuggles into his side, her head on his chest. She closes her eyes, "Who are you and what have you done with Leonard Snart?"

Leonard grins, "People change, Sara. You've changed, I've changed. Hell, even Mick's bloody well changed."

Her face sours, "You couldn't keep him out of this conversation could you?"

"I needed an example!"

She laughs once more, snuggling deeper into him. Then looks up at him, "You know what would be funny?"

Captain Cold mirrors her grin, "What?"

"If you got sick too."

His face sours, "I will not be happy with you if you end up giving me your germs."

Sara looks back down, her head pressed against his chest as she smirks quietly, "Oh don't worry, Lenny. I won't give you my germs."

A few days later…

"How you doing?" Sara singsongs, leaning up against the doorway.

"Terrible. I haven't felt this crap since I got the worst part of a beer bottle jammed into my gut when I was kid."

"I bet you're wishing you were stabbed instead of being curled up in here, huh?"

Leonard sits up, looking at her, "You're funny Canary. Just keep your damn mouth shut."

"I'd take you seriously if you weren't stuffing your face with plain chocolate ice cream and lying in bed," She mimics.

Leonard drops the spoon back into the bowl, planting it beside him, "You're hilarious."

"I know I am," Sara grins, wandering into the room to grab the bowl.

"I see that you're looking a lot better."

"I'm feeling it too," Sara agrees, resting her arms on the bed as she looks up at the crook, the bowl in hand, "You need anything else?"

Snart coughs, "Painkillers and some water will do me some good."

The White Canary cocks her head to the side, an unimpressed look on her face, "Now, now, you can't rely on drugs to make you feel better, Lenny."

"How else am I going to stop the throbbing in my head?"

Laughing, Sara turns around and heads to the door, "So water, no painkillers?"

"Canary…"

"What?" She innocently asks, pausing in her tracks, "Did I miss something."

"Water, painkillers please."

She smiles, looking over her shoulder, "Of course. Anything for my boyfriend."

Snart brightens up when he hears the Captain say that. But before he can question her about it, she's already out the door.

Slumping back into the bed, he rubs a hand over his face, "Ughhh, next time I won't let her play around with the cold gun while she's having a coughing fit over it."

This turned out to be a lot longer than I imagined it. But oh well, it's done now.

Reviews are welcomed, so is criticism. Follows/favourites mean a lot. Please let me know of any spelling errors or mistakes regarding the show.

Thanks for reading!