IT FEELS LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME

The room she takes on the Waverider is simple. There's a bed with sheets and a comforter, pillows and their covers; a closet, which sits empty since Caitlin boarded the ship with nothing but the clothes on her back and her sensible black Kate Spade crossbody purse; a desk and chair, empty of any personal belongings. A screen is set into the wall, presumably for television or whatever Gideon may need to show the occupant. There's also a cut out in another wall, where the bed lies, mimicking a window with a virtual view of a sunset lowering over a field full of cattle munching on grass.

Caitlin feels like an intruder. This room isn't her sanctuary. It's a shell, needing to be filled by someone and lived in. Her apartment in Central City was filled with her favorite things - items she had been gifted or found while on a rare shopping trip. The white faux fur blanket she kept on the couch would've been a nice addition to the bed she'll be sleeping in now. Her favorite blend of chamomile and lavender tea would be wonderful to sip on right now, to help settle her nerves and prepare her for her first night with the Legends. A small stack of books from home would add a touch of comfort in this hollow space. She'd even grab Heatwaves, if only for the distraction it provided.

Sighing, Caitlin sets her purse on the simple desk near the closet.

So, Frost speaks up. Now what?

"I guess we have an adventure."

Are you going to tell them about…?

"Yes," Caitlin slips off her high heels. "As soon as I figure out the best way to broach the subject."

Don't take too long. The longer you wait, the more likely they'll be upset that you kept that information to yourself.

Caitlin nods and then massages the back of her neck with a hand. "I know; you're right. I just…I need to get adjusted first. I don't even know my way around yet." It being as good a time as any, she decides that she might as well get acquainted with the timeship. Opting to go barefoot rather than suffer through aching arches and slip on her shoes again, Caitlin exits her new bedroom. Her first mission: find out who lives in the neighboring bedroom.

Three knocks grants her an open door and Ray Palmer is smiling at her. "Oh, hey! Settling in?"

Caitlin smiles at him, glad for the familiar face standing before her. "Sort of. I was just starting a tour and stopped to find out who lived next door to me."

"Well, if you want," he joins her in the hall. "I can help you get around. Don't want to get lost on your first day."

She smiles. "I'd like that."

They walk at a leisurely pace, chitchatting about the marvelous technological and medical advancements the Waverider and Gideon both have. When relaying the time Gideon regrew Leonard Snart's entire missing hand, Caitlin is so impressed, she grabs Ray's forearm and lets out a gushing "No way!"

He chuckles and nods. "Pretty impressive, huh?"

"Can you imagine if we had that available in 2018? So many lives could change for the better."

Ray is beaming at her. "It would be spectacular. Unfortunately, Gideon says mankind doesn't reach that level of technology for another hundred and ten years. So," he stops. "This is the Bridge."

Caitlin looks around, familiar with the six harness seats and Captain's chair that sits in front of the control panel. "I've been here before."

"Right, well, when the ship is about to make a jump, you'll want to be strapped in one of those spots. Otherwise, you'll end up on the floor, probably puking your lunch up. Not that I have experience with that!"

Caitlin giggles and follows Ray out of the room and to what is clearly an office. Maps and books cover nearly every surface of the room, most with pages open and writing scribbled on them.

"This is where Sara spends a lot of time, when she's not training in the cargo hold," Ray explains as if that answers for the mess. "And we use it to plan missions or set up strategies, but that mostly happens on the Bridge or sometimes in the library, which is that way." He points left, out of the room. "Nate is usually in there, if you ever need him. Hey, are you hungry?"

Caitlin smiles. "A little."

"Great," Ray leads her out of Sara's office. "Let's get some food in the galley. That's probably where everyone is anyway."

Amaya is in the galley when Caitlin and Ray enter. She's busy putting together a plate of leftovers to be reheated and offers a smile once her meal is in the microwave. "I'm glad to have you with us, Doctor."

"Caitlin is fine," she answers, a bit shyly. Though proud of her education and achievements, having her title used had always made her flush with embarrassment, as if despite her years of school and training, she still did not deserve her MD.

"Well," Amaya grabs a cloth napkin from a drawer next to the sink. "If you need help with anything, please don't hesitate to ask. Between missions, there's a lot of waiting around for most of us. I would be happy to assist you, if you ever need me."

The beep of the microwave signals the leftovers are properly warmed. Amaya uses the towel to safely grab her food, offers another sweet smile and leaves to find a seat in the dining hall.

"So," Ray heads to the refrigerator. "There's day-old mac and cheese, fixings for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, beer, half of the quiche Amaya made at breakfast this morning, and a jar of pickles."

"Quiche sounds fine."

A few minutes later, Ray and Caitlin enter the dining hall, carrying plates of food and cups of water. Amaya and Nate sit together, sharing bites of their food and speaking in low voices.

"Oh hey!" Nate waves them over. "How's your first night going?"

"I'm learning my way around." She shrugs and shovels a piece of quiche into her mouth.

"You guys know where we're heading next?" Ray says over the rim of his glass before taking a drink of water.

Both Nate and Amaya shake their heads. "Sara said something about 1989, but she wanted to consulate with Ava first."

"Ava?" Ray frowns. "Not Mick?"

Nate shrugs. Amaya bites her bottom lip, looking anxious. And Caitlin can tell they have information they are not supposed to share.

"Who is Ava?" She asks, hoping the question is innocent enough.

Nate takes a bit of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Amaya politely answers. "She works for the Time Bureau. She and Captain Lance have gotten…close recently."

"And this bothers Mick?" She ignores the spike in her adrenaline. Why would Sara discussing mission plans with Ava bother Mick?

"Sara named Mick her second in command," Ray supplies.

Caitlin's eyebrows rise up. The others chuckle at her surprise. "Yeah, we were pretty shocked too," Nate leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Turns out he's pretty good at it, actually."

Ray nods. "Well , he and Snart were extremely successful thieves. I guess we all just assumed Snart was the only one with any brains."

A smile reaches Caitlin's lips, unnoticed by the others. She settles back in her chair, content to listen to the trio discuss the likelihood that Ava will try to take Mick's spot in rank, the possible trip to 1989 - of which, Ray wants to stop by his childhood home and grab a slice of his mom's homemade cherry pie, and finally, the addition of Caitlin to the team.

"So, like," Nate turns to her. "What's it like having Killer Frost in your head?"

Amazing. Fantastic. There's no one else I'd rather have in here, Frost supplies.

Caitlin ignores the voice in her head and gives a shrug. "It's a bit noisy at times."

"Can she hear us right now?" The three Legends stare at her expectantly.

She nods. "Yes, so I would be careful what you say. She has a bit of a temperament."

How dare you; I'm delightful!

"And you guys can switch between yourselves whenever you want?" Ray, she knew, found this especially fascinating. She can appreciate his curiosity, but if he suggests running experiments on her, she'll have to let him know the data she'd collected was inconclusive and deny anymore tests done. Frost tended to get moody after an extended in the lab.

"We can," she answers. "But our switch an effect of my flight or fight response. If I am feeling threatened or particularly angry, Killer Frost comes out to serve as my protection."

Excuse me? Serve?!

Caitlin sighs, "She wants me to let you know she doesn't serve me. But being as we share a body, it's in both our interests to keep it well protected."

"Holy shit!" Nate's brows rise in excitement. "This is so cool."

Finishing her meal, Caitlin kindly excuses herself, declaring she really out to familiarize herself with the Medbay and Gideon. On the way, she passes an open door leading into a messy bedroom. She takes a peak, noting the pile of clothes near the closet, the unmade bed, a few brown, long-necked beer bottles left randomly atop furniture or shelving, and the heat gun sitting on a crowded desk table.

She takes one step forward, her intrigue getting the better of her. When footsteps are heard down the hall, she steps out and quickly walks away.

Caitlin stands alone amongst the futuristic technology, rocking back on her heels and trying to figure out where she wants to start for the day. An analysis of the team's overall health would be best.

"Gideon, could you please pull up medical reports of the each member of the Legends for me? If they're to be my patients, I'd like to know what I have before me."

"Certainly, Doctor Snow." The AI promptly displays a screen on one of the walls of the Medbay. The medical files of the Legends awaits for her to review.

Caitlin bites the inside of her cheek, eyes scanning over the list. "I suppose I should start from the beginning. Can you show me a physical analysis upon boarding the Waverider of each member?"

The file makes a quick swipe and Sara Lance's glower is staring at her from the screen. Caitlin swiftly reads over the notes Gideon had made during Sara's original evaluation. She spends the afternoon reading and taking notes on each of the Legends, marking anything that could be concerning or abnormal. Other than Sara's year spent dead, the team doesn't have anything terribly alarming on their records.

Are we going to stay in here all day? Frost whines.

Caitlin lets out a sigh. "Well, I did think my doctorate would be best used in the room with all the medical supplies."

Fair, but no one is sick or injured. Let's go check out that fabrication room. And don't you dare fill that closet with pencil skirts and simple blouses. I want pizazz!

"We can do that later," Caitlin uses her pointer finger to scroll up the touchscreen of the computer screen in the wall. "I'm just doing a little work right now to get to know everyone a little better.

You know how you get to know people better? Talk to them.

"I have been!" Caitlin brings the pen she'd been using to her mouth and taps it against her lips. "I just got here, let me settle in first."

"If you'd like," Gideon pipes up. "I can relay a message to the Legends that you'd like to begin evaluations with them."

Caitlin nods. "That's not a bad idea. Go ahead and let them know. Thanks, Gideon."

The first to come is Amay, who is soft spoken and polite, with an obvious dedication to her responsibilities. She sits still while Caitlin examines her eyes, ears, throat.

"So," Caitlin smiles and sits across from Amaya, folding her hands in her lap. "Tell me about yourself."

Amaya blinks, a slight of confusion crossing her delicate features. "Oh, well…I suppose I could. Uhm." She hesitates and Caitlin notices the break in eye contact. "I'm not from the same place in time as my crew mates. I was a member of the Justice Society of America before I boarded the Waverider, in 1942." She glances up at Caitlin.

Fascinated, Caitlin asks, "Why did you join the Legends?"

Amaya clenches her jaw before answering. "I was seeking to avenge the death of Rex Tyler."

Cailtin offers Amaya a gentle smile. "And Rex was…?"

"Leader of the Justice Society of America," Amaya lifts her chin. There's a shade of sorrow in her eyes. "A-and my partner."

Ahh, heartbroken girlfriend seeking revenge on her dead boyfriend's murderer. Frost disturbs Caitlin's focus. A little cliche, but whatever.

Shut up, Caitlin hisses back. She listens to Amaya recount her journey from 1942 to sneaking onto the Waverider to attack Mick, and thus leading to her joining the Legends in their quest to save and preserve the ever fragile timeline.

Caitlin listens quietly, offering bits of support and encouragement as the other woman opens up to her. When the appointment comes to an end, Amaya thanks Caitlin for the session.

"I don't suppose you count yourself as a therapist?"

Caitlin smiles as she rises to prepare for the next visitor. "No, but I am a good friend. And I am always here if you need someone to talk to."

Amaya pauses at the doorway. "I think you're a good fit for our team, Doctor Snow. Thank you for joining us."

Well, that was cute. Frost yawns.

Nate arrives immediately after Amaya. He's all smiles and jokes, referencing pop culture and specific points in history that he finds interesting. He's quite the chatterbox and Caitlin finds it endearing; he reminds her of Cisco.

"So, like, why'd you leave your team?"

She knew this question would be coming. She shrugs, pulling a stethoscope around her neck. "It was time to move on."

Nate, who is asking only because he's a nice person, and not because he suspects anything, nods his head. "What are they gonna do without you?"

"I suppose they'll bring in a new doctor and continue on. Here, stick out your tongue."

He does and she shines the otoscope to peer inside his mouth. "Your throat is a little red." She turns to a computer and types a note into his file. "No fever, so I'm not concerned with infection. If you like honey, just take a spoonful every few hours to keep your throat coated. It should clear up in a day. Just in case, come back and see me same time tomorrow."

"Cool," he hops off the chair. "Thanks! And hey, I'm glad you're here. We're kind of reckless. It'll be nice to have you around to help Gideon patch us up."

Caitlin smirks at his retreating form.

It takes Zari quite a bit longer to come to the Medbay for her check up. She hovers at the entrance, arms crossed over her chest like a wary, moody teenager. "So," she says, looking around the Medbay as if she's never been inside before.

Caitlin folds her hands in front of her. "So." An awkward moment passes between them. Caitlin patiently waits.

"I'm not sick or anything."

She smiles at the other woman. "That's good. We can know for sure once you consent to me evaluating you."

"No offense, doc." Zari frowns at her. "But I'm not big on letting strangers touch me."

"That's fine." Caitlin sits at the computer. "I've already read your file and Gideon informs me that you've had no major injuries or illnesses since becoming a Legend."

"So why even bother with these check ups?"

Caitlin shrugs. "I guess it's my way of getting to know all of you. We're colleagues, in a sense. We've fought together, but I don't really know any of you." She chews on her bottom lip. "Uhm. Well, except Mick."

Zari raises her brows. "Know Mick how?"

"He kidnapped me and strapped a bomb to me once." Zari's mouth drops open but Caitlin waves it off as if it's nothing. "So, I guess I don't really know him either. I just know him a little better than I know the rest of you."

"That is so messed up." Zari steps into the Medbay and plops herself in the patient's chair.

"Well," Caitlin starts typing on the computer, glancing at Zari and making notes of what she can assess of her physical appearance. Pale skin, deep bags under her eyes, slight hollowness to her cheeks, a constant fidgeting of her fingers. "Yes, I guess it is."

"So, why'd he kidnap you?"

Caitlin gets up and grabs a bottle of water from the minifridge kept nearby. "You know, before Killer Frost came into my life, I was just a normal person." She twists the top and hands it to Zari. Zari takes it absentmindedly and begins drinking. "I worked a predictable schedule, I lived alone. I was an easy target. Captain Cold wanted to get to Barry and he chose kidnapping me as the way to do so."

Zari scoffs. "What an asshole."

Caitlin chuckles. "Well, I don't think I'll be getting kidnapped anymore. At least not by Heatwave."

"Ugh," Zari rolls her eyes. "Heatwave?! I am never going to let him live that down."

"Can I check your pulse?"

Zari gulps down more water as she sticks her wrist out for Caitlin to press two fingers to. "And yes," Caitlin continues. "Heatwave was a very serious threat in Central City. He and Cold have been on the Most Wanted list for years. Barry had a lot of trouble with them during his first few years as Flash."

"Wait," Zari frowns at her. "You're not like scared of Mick, are you?"

Yes. She forces a smile. "Not at all. I don't think Sara would keep him on the Legends if he were a threat." She releases Zari's hand and sits back in her chair. "So, from what I can tell you're over caffeinated and not sleeping enough. Cut back on the coffee, and stop staying up all night. Okay?"

Zari rolls her eyes again. "Fine." When she leaves she takes the water with her.

Ray enters an hour later, apologizing for being late.

"I was busy with some updates on the Atom suit and forgot to come by."

Caitlin smiles warmly at him. "It's not a problem. Since you're here now, we'll just jump right into it. May I listen to your lungs?"

His check up goes smoothly and Caitlin is happy to report that Ray is the model of health. "Everything looks and sounds great."

Ray beams at her. "Can I just say that I am so excited to have another scientist on board?"

Caitlin smiles. "I'm glad to be here and help in anyway that I can."

After her assessment , Ray tells her not to be a stranger and insists she knock on his door whenever she wants, he then excuses himself, telling her to just holler if she needs anything.

Mick leans against a stack of boxes in the cargo hold, watching Sara as she twirls a bo staff around. The funeral for her father ended a few hours ago and Sara had marched straight to the unofficial training room, seeking her preferred form of therapy.

"C'mon, Blondie," Mick smirks, pushing off the crates. "Gimme yer best."

Sara pauses the fluid spinning of her staff. "Last time I broke your nose and you stole my bourbon in retaliation."

Mick shrugs. "So don't break my nose this time."

"Don't be such a bitch; that was good bourbon!"

He flashes her a grin. "I know. Really helped me get over my nose." He rolls his shoulders and squares up. "Now come on. You did your cryin'. Buck up and take a swing."

With a feral smile, Sara wastes no time in whipping the bo staff overhead and rushes Mick. He ducks the first attempt at his temple, bobbing and weaving and catching Sara with a fist to her ribs. She grunts and stumbles, shooting him a glare. Mick raises a brow at her. "C'mon Boss. You ain't gonna let a thug kick your ass, are yah?"

"Even if I was blindfolded and tied to a chair, you couldn't kick my ass." She swings at him again, following the motion of her momentum with a roundhouse kick that lands squared in his chest. Mick stumbles, back hitting a metal wall.

A rumbling groan and a cough give Sara the satisfaction that she'd proven her point. She twirls her bo staff again as she turns away from him and smugly walks back to the other end of the cargo hold. "Here," she bats her eyelashes. "I'll make this more fair for you." She leans the bo staff against a wall. She rolls her neck and shoulders and raises her fists, mimicking Mick's earlier stance. "Come on, big guy. Show me you're not getting too old."

Mick grunts and pushes himself off the wall, setting himself up for another round. "Keep talkin' shit an' I'll hafta break that pretty face, Boss."

They meet in the middle, with Sara delivering the first punch. It catches Mick in the jaw, snapping his head to the side. He knows Sara, knows her impressive combat skills, knows she's quick and likes to throw blow after blow to stun her opponents. It's only because he knows all of this, and spars with her so often, that he's able to avoid her next hit and shuffle enough to the side to slam his own meaty fist to her face. The force of the blow sends Sara to the ground, landing on her stomach.

Before Mick can ask if she's alright, there's a horrified gasp at the door.

Snow stands with her hands covering her mouth in shock. She rushes to Sara, dropping to her knees to help the captain up. "Let me look."

"I'm alright," Sara protests, but doesn't stop the doctor from examining her quickly bruising eye. "We were sparring. It's nothing."

Snow shoots him a glare. "Should I be surprised that you tried to knock her out?" Her voice is pure venom.

He bristles at her accusation, giving her an angry scowl in return. When he doesn't answer her, she returns her attention to Sara. "I came looking for you in hopes you'd consent to an evaluation today. Now, I think it's best if we put some ice on that eye."

"Gideon can fix me up," Sara waves off the offer.

"I know," Caitlin says gently. "I was hoping I could get a moment of your time to discuss a few things?"

Sara hangs her head and nods, indicating that her recess was over and it was time to return to her duties as Captain. "Yeah, alright." She sticks her hand up. "Help me up, yah big lug."

Frowning, Mick does, pulling Sara's thin body up easily. He stares at the doctor, who pointedly ignores him. She pushes herself to standing and walks out the door quickly, spine straight and heels clicking.

"Hm." Sara cocks half a grin. "I don't think she likes you."

"From what I can tell," Caitlin sits across from Sara, scanning over the file Gideon had provided. "Despite your year of death, you're in extremely good health."

Sara crosses her arms over her chest and smiles at the doctor. "I mean, if you gotta Ferrari, you take care of it."

Ooooh, Frost purrs. I like her.

Caitlin chuckles. "I do want to discuss something that is a rather sensitive topic."

"Don't worry, doc. My sex life is just fine." Sara winks.

Ha! Frost barks out a laugh. Can I say hi? Please? She's totally my speed.

Caitlin pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, attempting to subtly hint at Frost to shut up. "That's uhm, that's not exactly what I meant." She offers Sara a hesitant smile. "Have you considered having children?"

Sara's eyebrows shoot skyward. "Uhh, why?"

"Well," She twists her fingers, a nervous tick she's never been able to lose. "It's just that with your body having been dead for an entire year, I am curious if you'd be able to bring new life into the world."

Sara stares at her, her previous causal demeanor now shifted to defensive and withstanding.

"If you'd like, Gideon and I could run some tests for you. We'd need a few samples from you to make a thorough investigation. But I do think we could successfully find an answer. We could -"

"No."

Caitlin blinks, startled. "No?"

Sara shakes her head. "No. I don't want kids." She runs her hands up and down her arms. "I shouldn't have kids. Look at the life I live. My team always comes first. Don't run any tests." She hops off the medical bed. "I appreciate the offer, doctor. But it's unnecessary."

Sara exits the Medbay quickly, leaving Caitlin feeling like an ass for even broaching the topic.

"Don't need an any work done, Doc." Mick doesn't look up from the football game playing on the tv. "Everything's workin' just fine."

Caitlin let out a frustrated sigh. "It would make me feel better if you let me take a look at you."

He takes a swig of his beer. "Wanna get your hands on me that bad, huh?" He winks at her.

Frost chuckles inside her head.

"It's just a simple examination. I just need to listen to your lungs, check your vitals, nothing serious."

"Gideon's got a record of everything."

"I know," Caitlin fidgets. "I've read your file. I just want to -"

"I said no." He turns up the volume of the tv.

Not willing to deal with this, Caitlin moves around the leather couch to block his few of the tv. "Gideon," she places her hands on her hips.

"Yes, Doctor Snow?"

"How often does Mick drink alcohol?" She glares down at him.

"Every day."

"All day, every day?"

"All day, every day." The AI confirms. To spite her, Mick takes a long pull from his beer. He eyes Caitlin with that defiant mania she'd first come in contact with nearly six years ago..

She narrows her eyes at him. "And has he ever had his burns treated?"

"Hey!" Mick snaps, eyes blazing rage at her as his temper flares. "Watch it, Snowflake."

Caitlin tilts her chin up. "Gideon?"

"Negative, Doctor Snow. Mr. Rory's burns have never been treated."

She purses her lips, angry that he would treat himself so carelessly. "And how much does he sleep?"

"Less than three hours a night."

"Knock it off." Mick growls. "I told you not to examine me." He pushes himself off the couch and comes to stand in front of her, growing more agitated by the second.

"I'm not," Caitlin hisses. "I'm getting the information I need to properly care for you."

"I don't need you to take care of me!"

She looks down at the drink still in his hand, reminding her of last night, when his older self overdosed and died in her lap. "Obviously you do."

He steels himself. "That meant to make me feel guilty?"

"Are you capable of feeling guilty?"

"Still mad I tied yah up?"

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she scoffs. "Try that again and -"

"Trust me, sweetheart, I want to."

Her jaw drops open and heat spreads across her cheeks, coloring them pink. All she can do is gawk at him as Frost laughs up a storm inside her head. "I - that's not - I wasn't -"

"Calm down, Snowflake." He steps to her, backing her against the wall, only stopping when he's so close she can feel the heat radiating off of him. "I stole you once," his deep voice rumbles. "I can steal yah again. Sleep with the door locked if yah want a fair shot."

Feeling for all the world that at this moment she would let him steal her, she licks her lips. Mick's eyes track the movement and dilate in response. He smells of hops and sweat and Caitlin wants to taste both right now.

Cool it. Frost slams her back to reality. If you're gonna fuck him, at least wait until you put the bracelt on and I can live in blissful ignorance.

Without taking her eyes off Mick, Caitlin breathes unevenly. He raises an eyebrow, a question surely about to leave his lips. Caitlin clears her throat to cut him off. "I, uhm, I still think you should have a check up."

"Why yah care so much, doc?" He smirks at her. "You finally warmin' up to me?"

"I care about all my patients." Her answer is automatic, reflexive, rehearsed. She knows he can smell her lie.

Mick grunts and leans away from her, backing up to give her an open to skirt around him and make for the safety of the Medbay. "I'll be there, Doc." He promises. "I wanna see yah blush again."

Caitlin practically trots back to the Medbay.

Hours later, after dinner has been eaten and most the team has gone to bed, Mick rests his glasses on top of his desk and rubs his tired, dry eyes. An elephant of a yawn escapes from him and he reasons that now might be the best time to end his writing session for the night and hide his typewriter back with the box that contains the original manuscript of Heatwaves: An Erotic Space Odyssey, safe behind the traps he'd rigged for them. The final draft for his latest novel was requiring a lot more attention than he'd had time for lately.

With all that had happened in the last year, Nazis invading Earth-1, anachronisms and aberrations in every corner of time, the sudden death of Sara's father, the team has been swinging around none stop. Which made finding the time to write a real struggle for Mick.

A timid knock at the door has him whipping his head at the sound. It's late and no one knows about his writing. "Gideon, who's there?"

"Doctor Snow, Mr. Rory."

He rises and quickly grabs his typewriter off the desk. "What she want?"

"I believe she wishes to conduct a physical examination on you."

"Now?" He stuffs the typewriter in it's hiding place. Satisfied that every trap is in place, he crosses to his bedroom door and opens it.

Caitlin blinks up at him, her big, round doe eyes red rimmed and wet.

His brow furrows and he fights the urge to reach out and touch her. "What's wrong?"

"I-I have to tell you something." Her soft voice sounds so sad. A flicker of something he hasn't felt in years ignites inside of him, like embers being blown to flame.

He steps aside, allowing her entry. At first she hesitates, twisting her fingers and looking around his room, absorbing all the items that help explain what makes him him. He's a little embarrassed by the mess and clutter, choosing to kick away a pile of dirty laundry before she notices it.

She rubs her hands over her arms, turning as her eyes trail over everything.

"What is it, Snowflake?" He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her to decide to talk.

Caitlin averts her eyes and pushes some hair behind her ear. "I, uhm, I,"

"Sweetheart, if yah came here to fuck me, yah just gotta say so. I ain't gonna say no."

When she looks at him, her face is void of the embarrassment or irritation he'd expected. She's got this true sorrow written all over her, barely contained behind her polite selflessness. He'd known she was a widow, and can't imagine the pain and agony she's suffered all these years because of the loss of her husband.

But there's something else there. Something that she's directing at him.

"Doc?" He drops his arms. "What is it?" He doesn't want to tease her anymore; doesn't want to flirt to the point of either she spreads her legs for him, or let's Frosty cut his head off with that ice sword she makes.

"Tell me about time," she fidgets, twisting her fingers again. "If I know something about a person's future, can I tell it to that person without creating severe damage to the timeline?"

Mick studies her, taking in her rumpled t-shirt, messy hair, and the dark circles under her eyes. She's barefoot and her long legs are bare accept for the cotton sleep shorts that stop just below her ass. He tries not to gape like a pervert and turns away from her, finding a place to sit on the edge of his bed.

"Hard to say," he answers. "Depends on if that information is critical to the timeline or if that person's future has a fixed point in time."

"A fixed point in time," She shivers. "A point in time that can't be undone."

He nods. "What do you know?"

She bites her bottom lip and stares at him intensely. "I…someone visited me, er - broke into my apartment."

He frowns, already not liking what she was telling him. "You alright?"

"I'm…adjusting. He was sweet," she smiles at him. "He knew you."

"Knew me how?" He's lived a very full life and racked up enough enemies over the course of his forty-eight years either as a punk kid in juvenile detention or as the super villain, Heatwave, not to mention the unmeasurable amount of time he spent as the brainwashed bounty Hunter, Chronos. Anyone could have kicked in her door.

"Who was it?" He tries not to sound anxious. The thought of the good doctor being threatened or hurt because of someone looking for him is not one he enjoys. She was innocent of anything he was involved in and he'd make sure whoever this motherfucker is knows that.

"I can't tell you."

Mick groans. "Snowflake, there's a lot of people that want me dead. Be best if you gave me a name so I can handle this and keep yah out of it."

Caitlin gazes at him with warmth in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. "Thanks, but that's not necessary."

"Don't think Allen can keep yah safe, darlin'. He ain't here and -"

"I'm not in danger, Mick. You are. All of the Legends are."

Mick narrows his eyes. "What are yah talkin' about?"

Caitlin sighs and comes to sit next to him, shoving her hands under her thighs to keep herself from fidgeting and twisting her fingers any more. "There's this group that is obsessed with the Legends. I don't know why or how it all started. Just that," she looks up into his hazel eyes. Her voice pitches to a whisper. "All of you die."

He stares at her for a moment, searching for a chance that she's lying. When he finds nothing, he asks in a low rumble, "What happens?"

She inhales a shaking breath. "I know you're all hunted and Sara is killed first. And -" she cuts herself off and glances at him. "And you escape." She shivers, goosebumps covering her skin.

"You're tellin' me I escape, but I still die? They catch me?"

She bites her bottom lip, giving him that sad look. "No."

He narrows his eyes at her, studying her. The restless movement, the big, pleading eyes, the fact that she sought him out instead of Sara to give this information. He frowns at her. He's not stupid, despite what the team had once believed. And it doesn't take him long to understand what she couldn't tell him. "I broke into your apartment."

She nods, swallowing nervously. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you that."

A soft growl of impatience rumbles in his chest. He sighs and rubs a gloved hand over his face. "Alright. Any idea who's after us or when it starts?"

"No, I'm sorry. I was given very little information."

"This why you joined the team?"

Again with those doe eyes. "Partly."

He raises an eyebrow at her. He itches with a want that could consume him and make him devour her, burn her.

No, He clenches his jaw. Not her. He clamps down on those runaway urges trying to claw their way out and stands. "Come on, Snowflake. Time to wake up the team."