CHAPTER SUMMARY: In which Ray gets dishpan hands, Len is a smartass, Rip is irritated and Stein just wants some peace and quiet.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter refers to my previous works, "A Time For Great Things" and "Kissing Lessons." While I'd be delighted if you'd read and review that, the short version for the uninitiated is that the Oculus blew Leonard onto Jurgen's Ridge, an anomalous place in time where one can see past, present and future. That can have a serious impact on one's psyche.

"Ray, we've got the sceptre. Any luck with the medallion?"

Ray let out a sigh at Sara's report. At least now he knew which artifact they were looking for. "No medallion yet," he answered, tossing another bunch of just-washed greens into the strainer next to his sink. "But I do have a nice case of dishpan hands."

Sara chuckled. "You've got it easy compared to Rip. We'll see you back at the Waverider."

Ray sighed again as Jax sidled up to him. "Let me give you a hand," the younger man said.

"Aren't you afraid Chef Bulldog will come and yell at you?"

Jax chuckled. "Nah. Take a look." He jerked a thumb back and up. Ray looked that direction and saw Stein and the little chef in red sitting next to a window overlooking the kitchen.

They were passing a bottle back and forth.

"If the feeling I'm getting from Gray is any indication, Chef Bulldog is a little toasted right now," Jax said, grabbing another handful of spinach to wash it. "Whatever's in that bottle's some strong stuff."

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Professor Stein gets tipsy and you feel it?"

Jax nodded. "Yeah. It's all part of our psychic connection. The bad part is I also feel the hangovers."

"At least he can take one of Gideon's hangover pills," Ray said with a grin, digging into the unwashed spinach. His eyes widened as his fingers closed on something that didn't feel leafy. "Hey… I think I found it!"

He pulled apart a tangle of dirty leaves, revealing a golden medallion engraved with a hawk's head on one side, and some Egyptian pharaoh on the other. "That was a lot of work for something so tiny," he said, pocketing the relic before rinsing the spinach and throwing it into the strainer. Then he tapped his comm. "Team, target acquired. Let's get out of here."

Chef Gilles frowned as he looked around the large kitchen. Chef Victor had offered an awkward-sounding excuse before leaving the manager's office, and now his students were nowhere to be seen. He strode through the rows of busy worktables… the crab cakes were done, the crème brûlées were beautifully browned…

He frowned as he reached the sink where that fellow with the cell phone had been working. He'd left a strainer full of spinach sitting on the counter beside it. With an exasperated sigh, Gilles picked up the strainer and carried it to another counter, where a worker was processing greens and garlic to be used in the oysters Rockefeller. Gilles poured the greens from his strainer into the huge bowl of spinach and watercress, and then stalked off muttering, "If you want something done you have to do it yourself."

He didn't notice the strange shimmer that leached from the veins of the new greens into the droplets of water on them, spreading through the rest of the bowl. Neither did the kitchen worker who poured the whole bowlful into the industrial-sized processor.

Holland looked into the crate and grimaced at the mess the wolf cub had made in the nest of rags. "This is why I never wanted pets," he muttered, pulling on a pair of plastic gloves before lifting the cub out of the box and setting it on the table. At least it hadn't soiled itself too; the Fish and Wildlife folks had said minimal contact and Holland wasn't sure whether a bath would cross the line.

"Now you stay there," he told the cub as he began to clean up the crate.

He had just disposed of the dirty rags when the cabin door opened to reveal Dr. Hall and his friends…

One of whom was stained green, soaked to the skin and looking livid.

Of course it was the guy who'd been flashing the cash earlier. Holland sighed internally as his fantasies of what he'd do with a miracle infusion of cash vanished like bayou mist. "What in the world happened?"

"Dr. Holland, I'm afraid we had a little… accident with one of your rainwater sampling stations," Dr. Hall said, holding out a wad of cloth: The remains of one of his tarps. "There's still a lot of algae on this, and I remember you talked about algae testing before, so I thought I'd bring it back to you. Mr. Hunter is willing to reimburse you for the damage, in addition to the scouting fee."

Puzzled, Holland took the tarp. "Those tarps are eight feet off the ground. How in the world did you…. Never mind. I don't think I want to know." He frowned. "You only mentioned the scouting fee. So the.. ah... atmosphere…"

"Was too full of bugs," the actor… Leonard… stated, while draping an arm around the blond woman's shoulders. "People don't pay good money to see allergic reactions all over our…"

Hunter interrupted him. "We do appreciate your allowing us to explore your research area," he said, approaching the table with a thick sheaf of bills in hand. "And I hope this will help you with your research."

"Every little bit helps," Holland said, accepting the bills. "If you could spread the word to your film school friends… Hey!"

The wolf cub had wandered right to the edge of the table, and peering over it, lost his balance and fell. Hunter was closest and dove for the animal. There was a yelp, then Hunter came up holding the cub with a startled expression.

"Bloody hell! It bit me!"

Kendra's eyes widened to see a soggy, slightly green Rip Hunter enter the bridge of the Waverider with his team. "Rip, what..."

Len held up a warning hand. "Trust me, Kendra, don't ask."

Rip answered anyway. "Oh, I have had one hell of a day, Miss Saunders," he growled. "First I'm taken for a director of.. of… blue movies …"

Sara started snickering. Len merely smirked. Rip glared at both of them and continued, "Then your boyfriend dumps slimy water all over me…"

Carter shrugged and held up the sceptre they'd retrieved. "Don't ask."

"And then I got bitten by a wolf cub!" Rip finished, holding up his hand. It had a small band-aid on the top.

"It was just a little nip!" Sara laughed.

Stein let out a moan from the jump seat where he sat cradling his head. "Please, all of you, not so loud?" the professor begged.

"And what happened to you ?" Sara asked.

"Professor Stein is suffering the effects of drinking too much whiskey," Gideon announced cheerfully.

"Don't ask," Jax added, coming onto the bridge with a glass of water. He handed it to his counterpart and dropped a small white pill into the older man's palm. Then he stared at Rip. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Don't ask," Rip sighed.

"But we got what we came for," Len said, pointing to the sceptre.

"And so did we," Ray added, pulling the medallion from his pocket. "Just had to dig through a ton of spinach to find it, but find it we did."

"Then it's party time!" Mick declared.

Rip collected the artifacts and took them into his study. "You lot can go party ," he said as he put them into a box on his table. "I think I've had enough for one day."

"The same here," Stein said, having downed his pill and drained his glass of water.

"You guys are gonna miss one hell of a party," Carter said.

Kendra nudged him. "But we understand," she said. She pulled an envelope from her purse and handed it to Sara. "Tickets for all of you. We'll meet you there. Oh… and it's black tie," she added.

"You mean I've gotta wear a monkey suit?" Mick complained.

"It won't kill you, Mick," Len snorted before draping an arm across Sara's shoulders. "C'mon, Sara. We can work on our porn star names while we get gussied up."

Kendra's eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Carter, then Rip, who merely sighed again. "Really, Kendra, don't ask."

Holland waved at the departing Fish and Wildlife van, carrying its precious cargo of canis lupus rufus . He looked at the westering sun and decided there really wasn't enough daylight left to go out in the field.

But Dr. Hall had brought a little of the field to him, with that torn tarp. He could at least examine some of the still damp algae on it.

He went back into the cabin and turned on the radio. A little jazz always helped him think.

He brought the tarp over to his work bench, unfolding it next to his microscope. He picked up a swab and a slide and looked at the fabric, catching a strange shimmer he'd never seen on algae before.

"That's odd," he murmured to himself, dabbing at the area with the swab and then holding the green-stained cotton before his eyes. "Let's see what you're all about."

Rip sighed as he dropped his coat onto the floor and began to pull his shirt over his head. He'd been soaked through, and like Dr. Hall, he wondered how often Dr. Holland was checking his sampling stations.

He winced at a sudden sharp pain on his hand. His sleeve had caught on the plaster Dr. Holland had provided, tearing it off along with a few hairs. The bite mark was still bleeding slightly.

" 'Little nip,' indeed," Rip huffed, remembering Sara's teasing. "Gideon, would you please start the shower for me?"

"Certainly, Captain."

The water began running as Rip stripped the rest of his clothes off. At least the fabricator would restore everything like new, Rip thought, scratching his scalp where the green goop had landed the thickest.

He didn't notice the shimmer that traveled from the green stuff, up his fingers, zeroing in on the still-bleeding wolf bite.

Len had to hand it to the Hawks; they certainly knew how to make an entrance. It started with about a dozen torch bearers marching into the convention center, winding through groups of people in a circuitous path toward the main stage, followed by dancers and acrobats who threw beads and plastic doubloons to the audience. Then, bearing torches themselves, Hawkman and Hawkgirl flew into the convention center, circling above the crowd in an intricate pattern before landing on the stage. They handed their torches off to attendants dressed like ancient Greeks, and then waved to the crowd.

Relaxing on the royal dais next to the thrones Carter and Kendra would soon be occupying as king and queen of this shindig, Len didn't pay much attention to the speech-making by local officials. Instead, he watched Sara, elegant in a purple gown that clung in all the right spots. She was laughing at Jax and Ray as they animatedly explained what their team had been doing that afternoon.

She caught his gaze and gave him a saucy wink from behind her mask of green, purple and mottled gold feathers, a promise for later twinkling in her eyes.

Gideon had made masks for all of them. For Len, she kept it simple with basic black velvet. Jax wore a glittery golden mask, which Len resolved to steal later for Lisa. Raymond's mask was green and purple, topped with the three points of a jester's cap.

Len thought that was appropriate.

Mick's mask was also appropriate: red and orange feathers like flames. He was, unsurprisingly, enthralled by the torches that were now planted around the stage where Hawkman and Hawkgirl were being honored. He'd already told them about his afternoon of torching crème brûlées, but it looked like that might not have been quite enough to appease his need for fire. Len would have to talk to Rip about making a stop someplace where they could light a bonfire. Perhaps after they returned the relics to ancient Egypt.

New cheers and applause stirred him from his reverie. The Hawks had left the main stage, making one more pass over the partygoers before landing on the dais and taking seats on the twin thrones. Hawkman was now wearing a gaudy golden necklace with a pendant cluster of purple grapes.

"Nice bling," Len drawled.

Carter chuckled. "Not quite as bad as some of the stuff I had to wear in my first life," he said.

Kendra giggled. "Remember that big golden collar your father gave you for your 20th birthday? The one with all the crystals on it?"

Carter groaned. "That thing was hideous! And way too tight. I thought it was going to choke me to death!"

"I know the feeling," Mick grumbled, tugging at his collar and tie. When they wouldn't loosen to his satisfaction, he growled, pulling the tie undone and unbuttoning the collar. "Ahhh!"

"Feeling better?" Kendra asked with a smile.

"I need one more thing to really make me feel better, Birdgirl," Mick replied. "You're supposed to buy me a drink, remember?"

Kendra laughed again and rose gracefully. "Sure, Mick."

"I'm coming with. I wanna sample some of those crab cakes we were making," Jax said.

"And I have to try one of Mick's crème brûlées," Sara said. "Len, you coming?"

"Too crowded down there right now," he answered with a shake of his head. She frowned at him, but he gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Sara. You go ahead. Have fun."

Carter gave him a questioning look as the others moved off. "We barely knew each other last time around, but the Leonard Snart Kendra told me about would be right there in the crowd, picking every pocket he could reach."

Len shrugged. "People change."

"You all right, Leonard?" Raymond asked with some concern. "You're not having any Ridge aftereffects, are you?"

Carter straightened up curiously. "Ridge aftereffects?"

Raymond nodded. "His first two weeks back…"

"Let's just say I don't recommend getting swept up by a psychic pole in the time stream," Len interrupted, giving Raymond a significant glare. "There are some things you just can't unsee."

Raymond's eyes widened. "Things?" he repeated. "Things like…?"

Len smirked. "If you don't ask, I won't tell. You know what Rip says about knowing your own future anyway."

"Oh." Raymond considered that for a moment, then said, "Uh, you know, I think I'll go and sample some of the food too. After all, I did do all that work."

Len chuckled as he watched Raymond follow the others into the crowd.

"You didn't really see anything of his future, did you?" Carter asked.

Len turned to him with a slight shake of his head. "Nothing he needs to be worried about. But I still enjoy yanking his chain."

The two men shared a grin for a moment. Then Carter turned serious and said, "You know, I never thanked you for what you did, sacrificing yourself so the team could kill Savage and rescue Kendra and me."

"Well, I didn't really sacrifice myself," Len pointed out.

Carter shook his head, waving that off. "It's the thought that counts…"

"Now you're making it sound like a Hallmark moment," Len said drily. "I don't do those."

"Snart… Leonard. I'm serious. That was…" Carter paused, as if searching for words, then went on, "I do remember that in my last life, I wasn't very respectful toward you or your partner. That version of me was…"

"Conceited?" Leonard offered when Carter paused, obviously searching for words. "Arrogant? Pompous? Stuck up? I could go on. Had a week in Iron Heights once where they wouldn't give me anything but a thesaurus to read."

Carter had started laughing at "arrogant." Still chortling, he shook his head. "All right, I get it. Last Me was an ass. I'm trying to do better this time around. But still…" The humor dropped away. "I've known a lot of brave men… and women… over four thousand years. What you did that day at the Vanishing Point took more courage than all of them put together."

Carter extended his hand. "Thank you. From both of us."

Len considered the other man for a moment, then took his hand and shook it. "You're welcome."

Carter smiled and settled back on his throne. "So, have you put 'hero' on your resume yet?"

The crab cakes weren't bad, Kendra thought as she finished her piece. She might have used just a tad more cayenne and a touch less salt. But Jax seemed to be enjoying them.

Sara was raving over the crème brûlée, while Mick grinned at her over the rim of the boilermaker the bartender had whipped up when he couldn't decide between beer or whiskey.

Ray wove through the crowd toward them, a glass of champagne in one hand and a small plate laden with several stuffed shells in the other. "Oysters Rockefeller," he announced as he joined them at their cocktail table, holding the plate out to the others. Sara and Jax both shook their heads, as did Kendra.

"It may be sacrilegious for a New Orleans culinary student to say this, but I've always thought they were overrated," she said.

Ray shrugged and started on one of the half shells. Mick peered at them dubiously. "There's green stuff on them."

Ray nodded as he swallowed. "All that spinach I had to wash? It was for this. Want some?"

Mick shook his head. "No thanks. Bad things happen when I eat green stuff."

The last of the green slime swirled away down the drain. Rip turned off the water and grabbed a towel to dry himself off. He felt a wave of tiredness wash over him as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "Gideon, turn the washroom lights off, and the bedroom lights down to twenty percent, please?" he asked as he returned to the bedroom, tripping over one of his soiled shoes along the way. "Bollocks!"

"Are you all right, Captain?"

"Just tired, Gideon," he sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed as the lights went down. He really should be tracking a time period for returning the artifacts to the temple, but first he needed to close his eyes.

Just for a minute.

Holland rubbed his eyes, then bent back to his microscope. That weird shimmer wasn't some new form of algae. It looked more like a bacterium, but he'd ever seen bacteria like this before.

After a moment he sat back and shook his head. He needed better equipment for this. Fortunately they had it at the aquarium. He folded up the tarp and carried it out to his truck. Within moments, it was rumbling down the dirt road, the radio blaring "When The Saints Go Marching In."

Martin hummed to himself as he put the kettle on in the galley. Gideon's hangover cure had worked its magic.

Never again would he get into a drinking match with a crazy Cajun chef. Even in the interest of remaining unobtrusive.

Now he was looking forward to a rare evening of relaxing with some Earl Grey and a good book. As much as he enjoyed the company of his fellow time travelers - even Mr. Rory, if he was honest - there were times when a man just wanted some peace and-

"Professor Stein? Something is wrong with Captain Hunter." If an artificial intelligence could sound worried, Gideon did, and that immediately quelled any resentment Stein might have had for the loss of his anticipated quiet.

"What do you mean, Gideon? Where is he?"

"In his quarters. His vitals suddenly became erratic, and he is not answering me."

Frowning, Stein turned off the electric burner. "You can't detect anything more specific?"

"I can only monitor vitals outside of the Medbay."

Stein nodded. "All right, Gideon. I'll see what's going on with our captain." He left the galley, headed for Rip's quarters.

"May I cut in?"

Kendra nodded politely to the chamber of commerce official who'd been dancing with her, and smiled gratefully at Ray as the very nice but very clumsy man moved off. "My hero," she told Ray in an undertone as she moved into his arms. "If he'd stepped on my toes one more time…"

"I noticed that, so I thought I'd bail you out. That's okay, right?"

"We're still friends, Ray," Kendra said, "and I hope we always will be."

He smiled. "Me too."

"Captain Hunter?"

Martin waited a moment for an answer to his knock. When there was none, he said, "Gideon, are his vitals still erratic?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Then perhaps you had better let me in."

The door slid open, and Stein walked into the dimly lit Captain's quarters. The bed was rumpled. Some clothing and a white towel were scattered on the floor. Then he heard a noise from the darkened bathroom, something between a heave and a growl. "Captain? Are you all right?"

He started toward the bathroom. A dark shadow leaned over the sink. "Captain Hunter?"

With a growl, the shadow turned and lunged toward Stein, who stumbled back and caught his foot on one of the discarded shoes on the floor. Stein fell backwards, staring up at the still-growling… creature that moved into the half-light.

"Captain Hunter?" Stein whispered in disbelief. "Rip? Uh… there's a nice... werewolf!"