WE'RE ONLY ORDINARY MEN

"Well," Sara sighs. She pushes herself off the cluttered desk in the Waverider's library. "Looks like we have a problem here." She'd listened to Caitlin's confession, taking in the information of an unknown enemy group in search of the Legends with far more calm than Caitlin had expected.

"So what's the plan?" Nate asks, hair ruffled from sleep. He, like the rest of the team, had been woken in the middle of the night by Gideon's sharp command to meet in the library. Aside from Mick and Sara, the rest of the team had stumbled in wearing their robes and pajamas, yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes.

"There's not much we can do until this new enemy is revealed." Sara shrugs and moves around the library desk. She places her hands on the dark oak surface and leans forward. "Stay sharp. Gideon can search the timeline for anything that suggests a new threat is on the way. Until we have someone in front of us, we can't do anything."

"You can't just wait!" Caitlin interjects, her voice rising in pitch. All eyes turn to her, curious at her outburst. Mick stands across from her, leaning his hip against the desk. His arms are crossed in front of his chest and he watches her with an intense sort of attention. She does her best to suppress an anxious shiver. "Isn't there some sort of precaution you could take?"

Sara gently smiles at her. "Having Gideon run through the timeline is a precaution. It can give us a heads up as to when we'll run into these guys."

Worry running through her, Caitlin looks to Mick, biting her bottom lip. Understand, she mentally pleads. Please, you have to understand.

He raises a brow at her.

"I, for one," Ray speaks up. "Would really rather not die at the hands of an enemy I don't even know. But," he offers Caitlin a soft smile. "For now we'll just have to wait until Gideon finds something."

She can feel herself shaking. She'd failed; they weren't grasping the severity of it all. They had to act now.

Calm down, Frost commands. You did what you could. They know. They can prepare now.

Caitlin shakes her head. It's not enough. I have to make them understand. I can't save -

"Snowflake," Mick's gruff voice cuts through her silent conversation with Frost. "C'mon." He pushes off the library desk and strides out of the room. Caitlin gives a sparing look to the others before she follows him out.

"Tell it again." Mick sets a hot cup of black coffee in front of her before sitting in the chair opposite of hers.

Caitlin wraps her hands around the mug, her cold fingers soaking up the warmth quickly. "I already told the team -"

"Don't care. Tell it to me." He stares at her, hazel eyes burning. He clasps his gloved hands together on the table.

Caitlin takes in a deep breath. "Okay," she nods. "Three years ago, on Christmas Eve, you -er, a future version of you - broke into my apartment."

"Why?"

"You needed my help."

"With what?"

"You needed medical help."

He frowns at her. "I didn't go to Gideon?"

She takes a sip of her coffee, wincing as it burns her tongue. "I don't know what happens to Gideon, you never say."

He grunts and leans back in his chair. "You patch me up?"

Caitlin nods. "And then you told me about Sara and the others. You didn't tell me who was after you. Just that the Legends were dead and all that were left were you…" She licks her lips. "And me."

He stares at her, brow pulling together as he rolls all this around in his head. A soft rumbling, "Hmmm" escapes him. "Plenty of doctors throughout time, Snowflake. Why'd I go to you?"

"Maybe you could tell me," she whispers.

His jaw clenches and he looks away from the doe-like eyes looking up at him over the rim of her coffee mug. "Where were you during all this? That future you, I mean."

When she doesn't speak, he brings his eyes back to her. She's shaking again, the contents of her mug nearly sloshing over the rim. Mick suppresses the urge to pluck it from her hands. He wasn't going to coddle her.

"I, they," she gulps and then shakes her head, as if to bring herself to speak. "I'm taken away. They killed the team, but kept me for some reason. When I asked, you - you said it was likely for experimentation. And you were coming to try to save me."

The fire inside him grows. Before him, Caitlin sits in her baggy t-shirt and small sleep shorts, bare foot and trembling. And he wants to cover her from anyone who dares to snatch her away. He stares at her, clenching his jaw and keeping his thoughts under a sealed vault deep within him. He can feel the inferno building and building and building inside of him. And if he lets it go, there would be no easy way to come back from it. No reasoning or persuasion can stop him when he makes the switch and the fire takes over while he rides the high.

He narrows his eyes. "Lemme talk to Frosty."

Surprised, Caitlin blinks. "What?"

"She in there? Bring 'er out."

"What does -"

"Do it, Snowflake," he growls.

Caitlin glares at him, "You don't have to be such an ass." As she speaks, her hair turns the color of snow, and her skin pales. It's when her eyes have gone to that icy shade of blue that he knows Killer Frost sits in front of him.

"Hi there big boy," Frost purrs.

He smirks at her. "Lookin' good, doll."

"Oh, you know," Frost shrugs. "Petty heroism does keep one trim."

"Goin' soft, eh Frosty?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're one to talk. Heard you used to be a real menace to society. Now look at you, practically a full blown superhero."

"You feelin' like blowin' a superhero?" He raises a brow at her suggestively.

Frost chuckles, ignoring Caitlin's inner scorn. "Our girl wouldn't like that, you know."

"She in there?"

"Oh yes," Frost smiles. "She can hear everything."

A rumbling sound comes rolling up his chest and he nods, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. "Don't let anyone near her."

Killer Frost smirks. "Well, you hardly have to tell me that. Whatever happens to dear Caity, happens to me." She would never let anything happen to Caitlin; they do share a body after all.

He ignores her dismissal and repeats himself, voice set to that low pitch he uses when he's about to end a life. "If anyone fucks with her, kill them." He lets the implication sink in. "Understand?"

Caitlin is notably silent inside Frost's head as she studies the man before her. He's rough, and mean, and a criminal. He's killed, and kidnapped, and has a rage in him that will overpower and destroy. Frost settles back in her chair, a smile on her lips. "Absolutely." She raises a delicate eyebrow. "What's with the special interest? Does the beast have a heart?"

Mick narrows his eyes at her. Amused, Frost continues. "And here I hoped you thought I was the pretty one."

He shoves himself up, glaring daggers at her before he stomps out of the room.

Frost smiles, taking a sip of the coffee. "Well, well, Caity babe. I think he and I will get along just fine."

-

Overall, the Legends function as a dysfunctional family. And the team is clearly divided into two groups: the responsible party, and everyone else. Caitlin counts herself as a member of the responsible party, along with Ray and Amaya. She spends much of her time on the Waverider in the Medbay, discussing different science and technological advancements with Gideon, who seems positively giddy to share the information.

Ray joins her often, bringing a welcomed perkiness to the room. He retells his adventures with the Legends, bringing her to speed and advising her to be on the look out for certain enemies, Damian Darhk being the most severe.

"His daughter is pretty brutal, too."

Caitlin, who had been tapping her chin with a pen and staring at a computer screen filled with diseases from the 22nd Century that had been completely cured and erased thanks to vaccines of the future, frowns at him. "He has a daughter? Who would breed with him?"

Ray chuckles as he peers through a microscope; he'd brought a new piece of the ATOM suit with him and needed the Medbay's microscope to put the finishing touches on it. "Well, his wife actually. Ruvé Adams. She -"

"Wait, the Mayor of Star City was Damian Darhk's wife?"

"Up until her death, yes. Oliver didn't tell you guys?"

Caitlin chews her bottom lip. "He must have, I'm sure Barry knew this. I guess maybe I was busy working on something else at the time."

"Well," Ray continues. "Her daughter definitely takes after her dad. So if a mysterious dark haired woman tries to lure you away, just scream stranger danger and run away."

Caitlin giggles and clicks out of the list on the computer screen. She leans back in her chair, raising her arms to stretch overhead. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." Ray gives a cheeky grin.

She smiles back; having him tease her was almost like having Cisco here with her. "What's the likelihood of us finding Rip?"

Ray's smile drops so quickly, Caitlin wishes she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Oh Ray, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -"

"We'll find him," he says, his jaw ticks. "We have to."

Caitlin nods and doesn't make a fuss when Ray excuses himself and exits the Medbay.

In the days that follow, Caitlin has seen less and less of Mick. Since the night she revealed the Legends fate, he had made himself scarce, either sparring Sara in the cargo hold or yelling at her and Ava in the Captain's office.

"It's always like this," Nate informs her with a shrug, casually leaning against a wall. "This is how they problem solve."

"By screaming at each other?" Caitlin flinches at the sound of shattering glass rings through the hallway. She wasn't exactly eavesdropping, but she had a theory to discuss with Sara and hadn't expecting the "meeting" with Mick to take so long or be so loud.

"Or drinking," Nate shrugs again. "But really, it all comes down to Ava. She's always present whenever Sara and Mick are supposed to be discussing plans."

"That can't be healthy for their work relationship."

Nate barks out a laugh. "Oh you have no idea. The rest of us have learned to stay out of the way."

Suddenly, the door to the office opens and Mick marches out, red and scowling with anger. He stops abruptly, noticing Caitlin standing in front of him. His eyes narrow. "What d'yah want, Snowflake?"

She frowns at him. "I need to speak to Captain Lance."

"Great," he grumbles. "She's all yours." He stomps down the hall, fists clenching.

Nate whistles. "God, I hope I'm not partnered with him for the next mission."

"He's lucky I don't bench his ass," Sara steps into the hall, passing by Nate and Caitlin without so much as a glance. "Come on. Gideon found us something to do."

"Captain," Caitlin hustles to match Sara's determined stride. "I had a theory I wanted to run by you. It's about Rip Hunter and -"

"Gideon!" Sara interrupts, "tell everyone if anyone is so much as a second late to this meeting, I will become their personal sparring partner and kick their ass until it bleeds."

"Shit," Nate mutters behind the women.

"Uhm," Caitlin's heels click against the metal flooring. "I was reviewing the locations and time specifications the team had already visite on the search for Captain Hunter and -"

"What is it?!" Sara whirls to face Caitlin, impatient as a starving tiger. "What do you want?"

In the blink of an eye, Killer Frost pulls herself forward and takes of their shared body. She brings herself to her full height and scowls at Sara. "Watch your fucking tone. She's got a good idea to find your lost teammate. So stop with the attitude."

Sara stares at her in shock. She blinks and gives a small shake of her head. "I…"

"I don't care about the petty drama bull shit going on between you, your girlfriend, and your second in command. But don't treat Caitlin like dirt as a result of it. She likes you people, for some stupid reason."

Sighing, Sara nods. "You're right. I'm sorry. You can stand down."

Frost gives her one more snarl before melting back and letting Caitlin come forward. Warm brown eyes stare at Sara in horror. "I am so sorry! I can't control her!"

"Maybe that's a good thing," Sara chuckles. "Look, I am willing to hear your ideas. But, we have to address this anachronism first. We can discus it after the mission, okay?

Sheepishly, Caitlin nods and falls silently into step with Nate as they follow Sara to the bridge.

"Listen up!" Sara practically shouts at her team, she pointedly ignores Mick glaring in the corner. "We've got a potential anachronism situation."

A screen blinks on, showing a woman harvesting from a large garden. Her hair is tucked under a wide brimmed straw hat. Her skirts are dirty and sweat rolls down her neck. She looks up, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

And then a spear goes through her chest.

A shrill wail, a pounding of hooves, and the Roman Army rides across the field on the backs of Arabian horses.

"Oh," Nate groans. "Damn it."

"The Roman Army arrived in 1932, covering land known to you all as The Great Plains," supplies Gideon dutifully. "As of this recording, they have conquered every farm they have encountered."

"Conquered?!" Zari frowns. "What is there to conquer? There's nothing there."

"1930 is when the Dust Bowl happened," Nate answers. "People are starving from this drought. Nothing grows, the dust storms are totally unforgiving."

"And now they have possibly the greatest army in history decimating all they have left." Caitlin bites her bottom lip as she stares at the screen. "What do we do?"

Sara takes in a deep breath and runs a hand through her blonde hair. "I'm going to the heart of the army." At the Legends uproar, she declares, "Look, I'm not sending any of you in there. And someone's gotta get to the General -"

"Actually," Nate cuts in. "The Roman army was led by their Emperor and -"

"Fantastic," Sara cuts him off. "We need a distraction, and I am not willing to possibly sacrifice any of you. I'll go in, try to schmooze the big, smelly Roman Emperor."

"What?" Zari frowns. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You're gonna schmooze some dude while thousands of soldiers are surrounding you?"

"It's a shit plan," Mick grumbles from the corner. "You'll get yourself killed."

Ava, who stands next to Sara, ignores Mick and continues. "We'll dispatch a strike team and a recovery team. Nate, Amaya, and Mick will take the ground. Sara is diligent and skillful; she will be able to slip through the encampment and work her way towards the Emperor."

"If I can keep him distracted long enough for you guys to box them in, then Ava can open a portal and send them back to where they came from." Sara looks at Mick. "Use your heat gun to surround the army and keep them in place.." He gives her a grunt, clenching his jaw. "Ray, I want you in the air, calling out battle patterns - we know there's a reason these fuckers are the best. Keep us safe, intervene when necessary." Ray nods his affirmative. "Zari and Ava will stay with Gideon and drop in when things start to go haywire."

"When?" Zari raises a brow.

"It's the Roman Army," Nate answers. "It's about to get ugly."

Ava straightens her spine, "I have full confidence that, if executed properly, this plan will result in a victory for our team. I have reviewed every possible outcome, and so long as you all do as you're told, the outcome will be just as I expected."

"It's a shit plan," Mick emphasizes. He's glaring at Sara and ignoring Ava bristling beside her. "You're good, but you ain't good enough to take on the entire army."

"Gideon can fabricate a disguise," Sara answers. "She can make me look like someone the Emperor trusts."

"Livia Drusilla," Nate supplies. "His third wife. He loved her the most and favored her."

Mick shakes his head. "He'll know it's a disguise."

"How?" Sara crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Gideon's technology is immaculate."

"Trust me, Blondie," Mick's jaw ticks. His eyes shift just slight enough to look passed Sara and land on Caitlin. "I know." He holds her gaze just long enough for her furrowed brow to smooth as her face softens and the corner of her lip twitches as if a smile dared to show. He drags his attention back to Sara. "You go in, pretendin' to be his wife an' he'll know it's a trap. You ain't this Livia and -"

Nate interjects, "Actually, she went by Julia when the Julian family adopted -"

"Point is," Mick growls, it ain't gonna work and you're gonna get killed. Let me an' Pretty an' Amaya work 'em into position."

Sara shakes her head. "I'm not sitting out. The three of you on the ground is not enough."

Mick tilts his chin towards Caitlin. "We'll take Frosty with us."

Caitlin blinks. Shit yes, Frost cheers. I have been so bored since we boarded this damn thing.

Sara turns to Caitlin. "This is your first mission, so I'll let you make the call. You can stay safe in the ship and observe, or you and Killer Frost can hit the field to help keep the soldiers contained. Whichever you decide you're ready for."

"Field," Caitlin doesn't hesitate. "We both want to help."

The corner of Sara's lips quirk up into a half smile. "Don't hold back, alright? Keep yourself safe and stay close to the others and you'll be just fine."

Please, Frost scoffs. Not like we haven't been in a fight before.

Sara turns back to face the rest of her team. "I don't like sitting out. But, Ava has thought this plan out thoroughly and I do think we can execute it. Just," she lets out a frustrated sigh. "Just be careful, okay? A lot can go wrong. And you're being dropped in the middle of an open field, so there's no where to hide."

"Another shit idea," Mick grumbles.

Sara ignores him. "Move out. Strike team drops in twenty." The team disburses to prepare themselves for battle.

Do you need anything from Gideon? She asks Frost.

The other woman rattles off a list of her favorite liquors, makeup brands, and junk foods. Caitlin ignores her and decides that Frost will be just fine keeping them protected using only her ice powers.

Within twenty minutes, the team is assembled. Some have changed into their battlewear, though Nate and Mick remain in jeans and t-shirts. Mick's green jacket and leather gloves both look a bit worn and weathered, a detail Caitlin would not have noticed before if she wasn't studying him. She herself had taken the liberty of having Gideon fabricate her a lightning blue leather outfit and sturdy boots, knowing Frost preferred the colors and Caitlin wanted the added protection from the material. Of course, it wasn't the suit Cisco had designed, but it was close enough to give her some comfort and settle her nerves.

As the ramp lowers and the team walks out into the Nebraska's drought, she notices Nate and Amaya with their heads bent towards each other and Nate giving a quick kiss to her temple before he steps out onto the field first, switching to his Citizen Steel form. A smirk passes Amaya's lips and she touches her totem, bringing out a gorilla spirit to encase and protect her.

Mick grabs his heat gun from the holster on his hip and shoulders the weapon. He side eyes Caitlin. "Might wanna change, Snowflake. 'Bout to get real nasty, real quick." He doesn't wait for her answer as he steps off the ramp.

Caitlin takes a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs. Okay. Time to go.

Quickly, the switch overcomes her and Killer Frost stands on the ramp, smiling. "Oh, Caity. This is going to be so much fun!"

Later, after they'd found and followed the anachronism - because who could possibly miss a horde of men, clad in helm, armor, and flowing red capes, marching across Nebraska? - Mick locks and loads his heat gun, and takes aim.

"Oooh," Killer Frost purrs next to him. "A little trigger happy, are we?"

"Not gonna burn 'em," He grumbles, focusing. "Just gonna get their attention and lead 'em back to the time portal thing Power Suit will set up."

Frost's brow furrows. "Power suit?"

"He means Ava," Amaya supplies. She stands calmly on the other side of Mick, eyes trained on the Romans. "Once we've successfully corralled the army together, Ava will open a portal to send them back to their own time."

"Flames will keep 'em from scatterin' off."

"Uh huh," Killer Frost frowns. "And when they attack? There's only four of us."

A flick of a smile perks Mick's face. "Better run fast."

The mission wasn't exactly well thought out, what with the Legends exposed in an open field of dead, drying grass. The Roman Army was slowly trudging on, marching in unicent and answering the commands of their leader.

"Holy shit!" Nate gapes. "That's Caesar Augustus!"

"Who?" Mick frowns.

"Caesar Augustus!" Nate gushes. "Octavian?! The first Roman Emperor?!"

"Great, tell 'im to get his fuckin' army outta here."

Nate rolls his eyes. "Oh, yeah, just walk right up and - wait! I could just walk right up to him and -"

"Nathaniel, no." Amaya snarls. "We just talked about this!"

"Bad idea," Mick grunts.

"Nate," Sara's sharp snap is heard over their comm links. "Don't even think about it."

"What's the point of being Citizen Steel if I can't -"

"No, Nate!" The comms buzz. "Stick to the plan."

"It's a shit plan," Frost mumbles.

Mick barks out a laugh, his heat gun quivers in his grasp. Frost smirks in amusement. "So," she sighs. "How long do we have to wait? Not that I'm looking forward to trying to corral thousands of men, but I would like to know what the fuck I'm supposed to do."

An annoyed voice huffs over the earpiece, "You were given your orders."

Frost rolls her eyes. "Yes, Ava. I know that. But 'box them in' is rather vague, don't you think?"

"If you could create a gigantic snowman-monster to take care of all this, that'd be pretty sweet," Nate chimes in.

Mick mumbles, "Fuckin' idiot," while keeping his eye peering through the scope on his heat gun. "We can't follow 'em forever, Boss. Someone's gonna turn around and see us."

"Which would make sense," Frost tags on. "Since you dropped us in the middle of a fucking empty field."

Again, Ava pipes up. "Given the amount of distance between yourselves and the Romans, you will be perfectly safe."

"A hundred or so yards does not seem like a safe distance to me."

"And," Sara says gently. "Gideon can get us to you as soon as there's a hint of danger. Now come on, don't be babies. You guys have fault literal aliens. This will be a walk through the park."

Killer Frost rolls her eyes. "Yeah, okay."

"Well," Nate sighs. "Might as well get the show going. See anything up there, Ray?"

The technologists chipper voice answers over the commlinks. "Nothing irregular. They're just marching onward."

Mick hums and revs up the charge on his heat gun. "Might as well -"

He's cut off by a resounding blast of a horn. And then there is a giant scuffle of the horses being turned around and whipped to sprinting across the empty plain.

"You've been spotted!" Ray yelps.

"Retreat!" Sara screams in their commlinks.

"Oh, fuck." Nate curses. He grabs Amaya's hand and tugs her as he takes off towards the Waverider, which emerges from seemingly no where.

The sound of thousands of hooves fills the space as the army charges towards them at a rapid pace. Almost as if they are gliding, they come within just a few yards of the Legends.

Above, Ray blasts warning shots, trying to keep the warriors back and give his teammates a chance of escape. "Can you guys hurry up, please?"

Urgently, Mick shoots his heat gun at the Roman Army, lighting the dry field on fire and creating a wall of flames to separate them from him and Killer Frost, who is busy creating ice shards as long and sharp as knives, throwing them at anyone who breaks over the fire.

"Go!" Mick growls at her. His eyes are nearly black, the pupil dilated. Sweat beads down his forehead as he lets the flames engulf his surroundings.

Killer Frost snarls at him, "You go! I can hold them off!"

"Get your fuckin' ass to the ship now!"

Don't leave him, Caitlin begs. Make him come with you.

"I can't make him do shit, Cait," Frost snaps. "And I am not letting these fuckers slaughter me." She turns and makes for the Waverider. She hadn't taken more than four steps when Ray is shouting in the commlink earpiece.

"Mick, look out!"

Save him! Caitlin screams in her head, and Frost whips to the right, thrusting her arms out and sending a trail of ice from them. A solid wall climbs its way up to the sky, stopping a soaring spear from piercing Mick through the skull.

He whirls, finding her standing with her arms out and looking ferociously pissed. "I told you to go!" He bellows at her.

"Fuck you," Killer Frost snaps. "I just saved your sorry ass!"

"Down!" Mick shouts, aiming his gun and firing right at Frost. She dives to the ground just as a stream of fire blazes overhead. A soldier and his warhorse are caught in the flames, screaming as the beast turns wild with pain and fear, sprinting with the burning man atop it's back.

Mick gives a quick nod to Frost before he turns from the flames and runs back to their ship.

Frost hoists herself up and sprints after him, rushing up the ramp and into the safety of the Waverider. She bends over, hands on knees, panting to catch her breath. "That one was free, Caity. Next time, I'm leaving his ungrateful ass."

A timid, Thank you, is the only response.

Hours later, after Sara offers an apology to the strike team for the failure of their mission and retreats to the cargo hold to beat out her frustrations, Killer Frost sinks back within and Caitlin returns to the primary of their shared body.

Put the bracelet on, Frost orders. I don't want to hear anyone of these fuckers for at least twelve hours.

Finding it a fair request, Caitlin does so without a word. With nothing but her own thoughts for once, she takes a long, scorching shower, allows herself the luxury of slowly applying moisturizer and finding comfortable pajamas. With plush, comfortable slippers on her feet and her still damp hair twisted into a claw clip, Caitlin exits her room in search of a cup of tea and perhaps a book from Nate's library.

Walking down the hallway, she notes how quiet the ship is. Presumably, her teammates have retreated to their own rooms, looking for rest or solitude. Admittedly, the tension between Sara and the others after their failed mission was quite thick and it wasn't outlandish to think everyone felt they were entitled to a little space.

Caitlin, however, had no qualms with Sara or her rushed and inconclusive strategy to handle Caesar Augustus and his army. At home, Team Flash was continually making quick decisions that resulted in needing multiple back up plans. It was an area in which she was well familiar with and could be useful in. Not that she had any sort of credibility in history - like Nate -, or battle strategy - like Ava -, but she was sure she could have come up with something to offer up her new team.

Team. She was part of the team now, wasn't she? The Legends had accepted her and Killer Frost had joined them on a mission, willingly at that! It wasn't as if she were marked as a 'trainee' or anything. And yet, the feeling of being on the Legends team was wholly different from Team Flash.

Oh stop, she chides herself. It took you years to warm up to Cisco and even more to Barry and Iris. You're here now. You're a part of the team. They might even consider you a Legend someday but -

A boisterous bark of a laugh snaps her attention down the hall. As she passes the recreation room, she finds the noise coming from a TV, which plays a football game. Not being a fan of the sport herself - who willingly gets tackled and thrown to the ground? - she continues on.

And then she sees him, sitting alone with one arm slung across the back of the couch. He holds a beer in his hand, a bag of popcorn resting in his lap. She watches him, biting her bottom lip. She wraps her arms around herself to keep from twisting her fingers or tearing at her cuticles. She looks down the hall she'd just come from. No one else was up, and she wasn't particularly tired. And Frost had demanded she be left alone for the night.

It could be just him and her.

Nervously, Caitlin steps into the rec room. She hesitates for merely a second before she brings herself to sit on the love seat to his right.

Mick makes no indication that he's noticed her, instead keeping his eyes on the game. After several minutes of silence, all of which Caitlin is acutely aware of his every move, he softly says. "You don't strike me as the football type, Snowflake."

"Well, no. I'm not." She twists her fingers.

"So what are yah doin' here?" he asks, not unkindly. He doesn't bother taking his eyes off the TV.

"I just," her voice is small, shy. "I thought I'd like to get to know you, is all."

He makes a noise deep in his throat, as though he's thinking this over. Quietly, he hands her an extra beer he had sitting on the coffee table. "Thanks for the assist today."

"Oh, no, that was Frost. I was -"

"Frosty's a good fighter," he interrupts her. "But she ain't one for savin' people she barely knows." He turns to bring his eyes to hers. "I ain't an idiot, doc. I know she did it 'cause you told her to. So, thanks for the assist." He smirks at her and turns back to the television, taking a swig of beer.

A small smile spreads across her face. "Of course." She settles back into the cushions with the beer he'd given her and quietly watches the NFL.

"We have to try again," Ava says. "The anachronism is still an active threat. Your strike team was unable to complete their task -"

"You dropped us in the middle of a fuckin' open field against an entire fuckin' army."

"Where else were you supposed to go? There was nothing out there!"

"Coulda used the jump ship, coulda called Constantine to created a barrier with that magic shit of his, coulda done literally anything else. But you fuckin' dropped four people against thousands of battle seasoned warriors!"

"We don't know where John is," Sara finally speaks up. "I've tried reaching him, but it hasn't been successful."

"The point is," Ava raises her voice. "You're second in command. It was your job to insure the strike team fulfilled their obligation."

Mick crosses his arms over his burly chest. "And what are you?"

"Excuse me?" Ava blinks at him.

"What are you?" He repeats himself, staring her down. "You ain't the captain. You ain't the second. Why the fuck are you in this room right now?"

Nostrils flaring, Ava brings herself to her full height. "I am the Director of the Time Bureau! I -"

"So, why are you here? Is fuckin' Lance more important than your own team?"

"Mick!" Sara warns, stepping between him Ava.

He looks her square in the eye, ignoring Ava carrying on a rant. "You fucked up, Boss. And you keep fuckin' up whenever she's here. And one of these days, it's gonna get your team killed."

He leaves without another word.

When the door shuts, Sara stands stock still, feeling like a bucket of ice water has just been dumped over her head. He's right, she clenches her jaw. She ignores Ava, who stands behind her, listing off all the reasons why she should demote Mick from his position.

Out of habit, she reaches up and fingers the ring she wears on a chain around her neck. What would you do?

In the cargo hold, he hangs a boxing bag, squares up, and socks it as hard as he can. Left, right, hook, uppercut, hook, left, uppercut. There's no rhythm or pattern, he throws whatever he can just to let out the pent up frustration.

Ava was a pain in his ass, constantly. The way she uses her snobbish attitude and insufferable scolding as weapons against him, trying to throw him from his position as Sara's second in command, trying to climb to that honor herself - all so she and Sara could run the ship like some kind of bureaucratic power couple. And Sara was eating it up. It wasn't like the team was blind, anyone could see that whatever opinions Sara voiced came straight from Ava first. Maybe it was because Ava was the Director of the Time Bureau herself that Sara looked to her to flush out missions for the Legends, instead of coming to him. When Sara had taken over as Captain and named Mick as her right hand man, the team had been confused - surely not the insane arsonist? Why not Amaya, who had experience in the position with her prior team? Or Nate, a historian and better qualified to assess their travels throughout time?

Nevertheless, Sara had made her decision and she'd handed him a beer, clinking her own against it in a small gesture of cheers. He'd never asked her why she chose to put so much trust in him, but he took his role seriously and used his skills from his time with The Rogues and as Kronos to get the job done. It wasn't until Ava became a regular visitor of the Waverider that he felt his relationship with Sara waver.

His knuckles ache from the repeated punching. Ignoring the nagging feeling, Mick rolls his neck and shakes his shoulders a bit before he squares up again. The urge to hit something was one he'd had most of his life. Letting his fists wreck the punching bag was better than letting his heat gun wreck the Waverider. And if Gideon caught him burning himself again with the kitchen blow torch, she was going to tattle tale to the team.

And then Caitlin would know.

His jaw clenches as he sends his fist into the bag. It wasn't safe to think about her, even when he's alone. He knows how his brain jumbles and can slip into mania, it happens with fire all the time. She didn't need to become another one of his obsessions, it would only hurt her. And he really didn't want to hurt her.

He'd never been one to think about a woman for longer than a night or two - his string of unattached hook ups was long, most of whom he couldn't put a name to the face. But he'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about the good doctor since the night he'd kidnapped her all those years ago.

A rumble starts deep in his chest as he attempts to shake away his thoughts. He was good at burying things. He could be a sealed vault. No on will ever know.

The door to the cargo hold opens and Amaya sticks her head in. She gives him a soft smile. "Nate and I were going to spar. Want to work your way in?"

"Nah," he wipes his sweating brow. "I'm done. Have fun kickin' Pretty's ass."

Twenty minutes later he's showered, dressed in his standard jeans and a henley shirt, and making his way to cook up himself some dinner. What he finds in the kitchen is nothing short of a culinary disaster. Dishes are piled in the sink. Something has splattered all over the microwave, which has its door wide open. There's a pot on the stove top with some kind of brown gunk bubbling.

And Caitlin Snow, quietly trying to wipe down counters and chip away at the mysterious filth that has become of the ship's kitchen. He watches her quietly, a twitch of a smile appearing and vanishing at how the picture before him is so very domestic.

Maybe, in another lifetime, in another universe, she's cleaning this same mess. But instead of aboard a time ship, it's in the kitchen of a house out in the country, and instead unclean teammates, it's unclean children, and he -

Mick clenches his fists and shakes his head. No. He scolds himself firmly. Leave it be.

He clears his throat to make his presence known. Caitlin looks up at him. "This isn't my mess," she says hurriedly.

He raises a brow at her.

"I mean, I do have a few dishes in the sink, which I am going to wash. But I just-well-look at this place!"

Mick chuckles and folds his arms across his chest. He settles into a leaning position against the doorway.

"I came to make a little dinner," she continues, looking as if he'd caught her doing something indecent. "But there aren't any clean dishes left, so I was going to start there. But really, the appliances needed to be wiped down. And then I realized I might as well do all the countertops first and get every surface cleaned up before I start on the stove or microwave."

"And," she returns to her scrubbing. "I know Gideon could do all this for me. I just-I don't want to become lazy and depend on her for basic, everyday tasks. She already handles most of the medical and research contributions for the team. And I want to be helpful, so," She gestures to the chaos surrounding her.

Again, a smile pulls itself free and Mick doesn't bother forcing it away. "Want any help?"

She beams at him. "Sure."

He took on the daunting task of cleaning the mountain of dirty dishes, making a mental note to bark at the team to clean up after themselves or else he was gonna light their shit on fire. Usually Zari or Nate ends up being the culprit in any untidiness on the Waverider. Amaya was damn near perfect to live with, and Ray ran on coffee more than on actual food. Mick himself kept his messes contained in his own room, which remained an unorganized hole that he used for sleeping and writing only.

"So you're a neat freak," he smirks, glancing over at her.

She still has that smile. "Yes. I'm a doctor. I have a bit of an obsession with cleanliness. You'll have to forgive me for it."

Mick shrugs. "No skin off my ass."

An amused snort escapes her and Mick feels his chest swell with pride. "Thank you for helping," Caitlin peaks up at him from where she is bent over the counter, trying to get a particularly sticky residue off.

Mick shrugs and picks up a ceramic bowl to clean. "Snart was a clean freak too. Bitched if everything wasn't meticulous. Got used to cleanin' up after myself."

She nods in understanding and they resume their chores in relative silence. It takes them half the time it would've taken Caitlin alone to make the kitchen usable again. After which, Caitlin's stomach groans.

She opens the refrigerator and pokes her head in, listing off the contents. "Condiments, leftovers, beer, and whatever that box is that has Nate's name on it."

"What are yah in the mood for?" Mick leans against the counter.

Caitlin shrugs and shuts the fridge door. "Anything, really. I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Like barbeque?"

Again, she shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

"Gideon," Mick turns to the cupboards and grabs two plates. "Coupla ribs, corn on the cob, and slaw -"

"I don't like coleslaw."

"One slaw," he corrects and places the plates in what looks like another microwave. Caitlin watches in fascination as food materializes on their plates. Mick hands her one, as well as a fork. "Gotta warn yah, it ain't like the real thing. It's close, but it's not the same." He grabs a rib and rips the meat from the bone with his teeth.

Caitlin takes a tentative nibble, letting the food roll around on her tongue as she tastes it. "Well," she swallows. "It's not terrible."

"I appreciate the compliment, Doctor Snow." Gideon says from overhead.

Caitlin smiles up at the ceiling. "Maybe we can get real barbeque in Central City."

Mick watches her as she eats her food, unaware of the churning going on inside of him. A noncommittal grunt is all that escapes him before he rips his stare away from her and focuses on his own meal.