#his feelings are his own responsibility and whether he chooses to tell Rory about them or not is also his decision

[chambersofthesea]

Hey how are you? I’m dying to talk/rant about h Jess & Rory and how unfairly Jess was treated so can we chat/rant for hours about it?

I'm fine with answering questions about them if you send asks, but unless it's about Jess not being focused on more in the narration, and it's about "Jess was unfairly treated by Rory", I'll probably have to pass on that one.

[bonelesswords]

a study of souls | alex høgh andersen au

Chapter two: A good guy.

synopsis - chapter one 

Warnings: Languae, sexual content, mentions and using of drugs, mentions of a toxic relationships, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language)

Note: It was quite a ride for me to finish the second chapter, I had to write it again once I finished and translate took more time that I thought, but here it is, if you like it, please let me know what you think. (Btw I had a few problems while editing so if you find a mistake you know why)

   I start to get into the conversation,  despite the internal jokes, the names I don't know and the anecdotes that I'm not part of. Julia talks about her job in the city, in a nail salon, she asks me if I like nails. Eventually, she asks me what do I do and I tell her that I work at a bakery we own with my grandma and that I study in a public university.

"Do you study at the university, June?" Alex asks, turning to me. I just nod. "What are you studying?"

"Ah... Philosophy and Letters" I answer, dragging my words. I look him  in the eyes, in a silly attempt to demostrate that I'm not intimidated by his bruised face, nor his slightly black eye or the scratches of his face. But I fail in the moment that he cross his hands on the table and I look towards them. It has purple knuckles, a little red too. I manage so my eyes could make their way to his again.

"So you like to read" He say. I won't question him, at least not now. If you studied a minimally theoretical career in college, you were going to have to read anyway, whether you like it or not. I just nodded and he does it again, confirming my answer. "It would be too silly if I ask what's you favourite book, then. Right?"

"It depends" I answer, making him raise his eyebrows. I know from the expression on his face that my response causes him some fun.

"May I know on what?" He asks with that peculiar accent he spits every time he speaks, but I don't dare to ask where he is from, at least not for now.

"Well, maybe because we are in a bar, in your friend's birthday, and I know that the last thing you want to know is my favourite book, or because it's a questions that has been asked me millions of times. Or simply because I have lots" I explain to him and he listens to me with attention, then, suddlenly, he lets out a loud laugh that echoes throughout my head, making me smile.

He approaches to the edge of the chair and, therefore, me. It makes me wonder how someone can hold their gaze for so long with someone they barely know, without wanting to start laughing, or feeling intimidated, but at that moment the only one who felt intimidated was me, every time he opened his mouth to talk.

"You are leaving me the doubt, June. No one does that." He mutters as a fake warking and moves away.

"I guess I'm the first, then" I announce, taking the bottle of beer to my mouth. A smile that looks arrogant dances on his lips, shaking his head.

"That makes you the most intelligent person sitting on this table." he says and this time, I laugh, rolling my eyes.

"You can do much better than that." I whisper squinting.

"You are right," He whispers too "I can do much better than that." Winks at me again, and turns around, and like nothing, stars a conversation with Jack, he has the last words.

I am ashamed to feel a little disappointed when he turns around.

"Travis and I own a tattoo studio" Jack tells me when I ask him. I look at travis, who nods smiling.

"You can notice" He says, showing me his hands full of tattoos.

"Have you done them to each other?"

"Yes, some of them" Jack answers me. "What about you, June, do you have any tattoos?"

"Yeah, an ugly one" Rory interrupts with a laugh and I hit his shoulder, faking being annoyed by him. He is the only person who I've told the story about my tattoo, even if it's not a very exciting one, I haven't told my grandma I've done it drunk. She likes it anyway.

"I've got it done when I went to New York last summer" I tell them "I went to a party with a guy that I met, the owner of the house had a tattoo machine, who convinced a very drunk version of myself of getting it." The tatto has more quality that I expected to be done in a party, full of people and the unbearable noise of music. Ryan, the grandson of the owner of the house that I was staying those days, invited me to party of his friend, and I had returned with an unprofessional tattoo.

"Show us." Evangeline encourages me and everyone nods. I hesitate when I have to pull up my blouse where my tattoo is. In the side of my right rib, right under my bra, it's found the statue of liberty.  

"In the United States, liberty is a statue." I quote, making them laugh, I drop the blouse. "They wanted me to have a memory, I guess."

"That's so sweet." Julia lets out, cupping her cheeks in her hands.

"It could have been worse, due the fact that you were drunk" Says Travis.

"It could have been a dick" Helena says and  everyone bustle in laughs.

"It could have been, yeah" I confirm "I didn't choose it, he did it, the guy who took me to the party"

"You totally look like someone whose first tattoo is on their rib" Alex says, and  manages to give me the same smile I've been thinking about all night.

"That's a very elaborate description, isn't it?" I question, he nods with his eyes closed. "And why is that?"

"I don't know, maybe I'll tell you later" He just says, this time, leaving me with the doubt.

Maybe I tell you later, that was just an excuse to talk me later.

If I am honest, I didn't have much experience with men. Every time Alex opens his mouth, his only goal is to make me blush, and I am not used to that. William never treated me like that, and when he wanted to show interest in me, he used the academic field as an excuse. To remember that, makes me feel sick, the memory of William faking interest in my writing makes me want to vomit.

On the other hand, Ryan, he flirted like a high school boy, that's why was so difficult to get laid with him. Even if in the end I ended up doing it, I had to ask him to shut up in the middle of the act, lying that I couldn't focus, when the truth was that I couldn't stand when he talked about my eyes, and how beautiful they are. It seemed forced and it was annoying.  Although Alex's tone in speaking was closer to William that any other, it was different. Almost arrogant, a little hesitant maybe, but what I liked the most was that everything that came of his mouth seemed to be practiced before, as if my reaction was already calculated, and at the same time it seemed so natural, as if I was already part of him to answer that way to the girls. For some horrible reason I liked it more that I should.

"Rory told me that you own the bar with your brother" I bring up the subject. He turns a little in the chair to listen to me better and nods. The sound of the music and the people talking makes it a little bit difficult to hear each other, even if i'm right beside him, but he tries to answer through the noise.

"Oh, yeah, Luke. It was our grandpa's. He had it from a long time and when he died, six years ago, he gave it to us. Well, to Luke, the most part of it" He explains to me. "He takes care of the taxes and I take care of the other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"Oh, you know..." He hesitates "Other stuff" I laugh, making him do the same while he gets closer, moving to the edge of the seat."I mean look at me, I should be seeing if everything is alright tonight, that no one is getting in trouble. But I'm here, sitting at the table giving free drinks to my friends. I'm a terrible owner."

"At least you are a good friend."

"At least I am, right?"

"Yeah, but you seem to be a terrible fighter." I say, pointing at my face in circles, referring to his. I feel curiosity to know who left his face like that, and if he did the same thing with the other person, but I don't want to ask and look like a nosy person.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter" He declares, with a hand in his chest, where his heart is.

"Mmm..." I hasitate "It's hard to believe you."

"Yeah, you're right. With a face like this I understand it's hard" He remains silent for a few seconds, as if he was thinking what to say next. He moves his eyes through the room, until they meet mine again and says: "I'm both, then."

When the bar begins to empty  and the only ones left are us. Evangeline decides that it's time to go home and everyone agrees with her. Jack offers to take her home  with Julia and my brother offer the same thing to Helena. Travis doesn't need it, he goes home on his motorcycle. Alex tells me that he lives right above the bar, so he just has to go upstairs to go to bed.

"No one is going out tonight? Jack asks "It's only two"

"No, Jackie, the only reason I'm awake is your birthday, I woke up at seven in the morning" Helena answers "If it wasn't for you, I would be already asleep."

"I apologize, Helena, I didn't mean to turn twenty four on a friday"

"I forgive you" She says, then approaches to hug him.

While everyone goes outside to say goodbye, after four beers I had to go the bathroom. When I go out of the cubicle I look myself in the mirror, watching my red cheeks, maybe due the alcohol, or the heat of the place, or for all the things that I've been said tonight.

How absurd, I think.

I wash my hands and I go out of the bathroom. All lights are off, except the ones from the drink bar that light up the place slightly. I hear noises and a blow, followed by a loud complaint. I startle suddenly, but then I see Alex getting up behind the bar, a frown on his face and a little baffled. I hide a smile before I start to approach to him.

"I hit myself with the cash register" he explains, as if I hadn't already heard him.

"Ah, yeah, I think I heard"  I say, and he laughs. "Were you hiding?"He raises his eyebrows, I notice how the darkness of the place shadows his entire face, making it look as if he has rings under his eyes. His eyes seem bigger, even more blue, but darker at the same time. It baffles me when he laughs at my little joke, although it is a  very typical of my thinking a lot.

"I'm not the type of guy who hides"

"Uhh..." I joke "Sounds bold."

"That's what i'm trying" He says with a smile without teeth. My heart suddenly feels smaller in front of him, as if it had been pinched.

"We are leaving." I announce. He nods and remains quiet, looking everywhere, as if he was looking for something.

"Yeah, right." He murmurs and looks at me again. His gaze fixes in mine during a few seconds and I see how barely his eyes move . I don't know if it's because he's examining my expression, maybe just my face.

The dim lights give a dark appearance to his beaten face, perhaps to the whole situation. "You are a curious one, aren't you?"

"Huh? And how did you come up with that conclusion?" I ask, resting my arms on the bar, looking closer, and that mocking smile appears on his face again.

"I can tell." He just answers.

"You can?"

"Yeah, you know what they say, the eyes are the window of the soul. And you have very big ones." I roll my eyes, but however, If he was trying me to like him even a little bit, he had succeeded in that very moment. Maybe it was all the things he said or maybe the way the light hits his face and made it looks a bit sinister, maybe just the four bottles of beer I had taken that night. I didn't think it, and I tried so hard not to make him notice.

"That's the only thing you can see in my eyes? That I'm curious?"

"Yes, a little bit too much" He answers, and suddenly shuts up.

"A little bit too much for what?"

"A little bit too much for wanting to know what happened to me, to my face, for example. I know you've been wondering all night." He says dragging his words. He takes me by surprise, in that moment I realize that I don't know him not even a bit, and that I am not capable to decipher the expression on his face or the intention of his words. I feel embarassed because maybe he thought that I've been looking his face all night because I can't help but asking myself who beated him like that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... you know, be rude" I say stumbling over my words, blushing like hell. But in the middle of my apology I hear a thunderous laugh that sends a shiver directly down my back, making me startle.

"Oh my god, June" He stops laughing, tilting his head to the side. "Don't be sorry. I got into a fight, it's nothing serious, I was playing with you"

"I really thought you were mad"

"No, I'm not trying to scare you, I'm trying to impress you, is it working?"

"No, it's not" I lie. He bites his lower lip in the middle of a smile.

"Romantic." I just say.

"I'm sure it wasn't" Alex shakes his head repeatedly.

"I would feel kinda flattered if my boyfriend got into a fight for me." I say raising my eyebrows, just for my convenience, wanting to be sure that the girl he named was his girlfriend or not.

"If I was your boyfriend I would happily get into a fight for you." He mutters hesitantly, leaning over the table that separates us.

"I've got the feeling that you would happily get into any fight" He shakes his head laughing and runs his thumb over his lower lip, I stare at him for a few seconds, less than I would like and more than I should.

And just like that, he spits those words "So you have a boyfriend or not?"

"I don't" I manage to answer and I know that the night begins to end when he yawns and stretches his arms.

"Nice, I guess I see you around, then." I nod and I start walking backwards, still looking at him.

"Nice to meet you, Alex."

"Nice to meet you, June." He answers giving me a broad smile. I turn around  and when I'm two metres from the door, he talks again. "She isn't my girlfriend, you know? The girl that I told you."

"I didn't ask." I say without looking at him, until I remember the question I've been asking myself since I heard him talk. Then, I turn around. "Where are you from, Alex?"

"Denmark, June" He answers "Thought you'd never ask" I smile at him for the last time, I nod and I turn around again, walkig out the door.

I say goodbye to everyone, to open the door of my brother's car and climb the back seat, Helena is on the passenger seat.

Rory and her start talking about random things, Helena makes Rory laugh a lot and vice versa, even if she tells jokes that would never make Rory laugh, he does it anyway, which makes me laugh as well.

It's not until they start talking about the night that I dare to talk as well, just because it seems the most prudent moment.

"Is Alex used to.. getting into fights?" I spit it out.

"Yes, he is" Helena doesn't hesitate when she responds, which makes Rory look at her with a bad face, she doesn't realize it, only I do.

"We say he's a little bit impulsive" Rory intervenes. "He's a good guy, though . He is just with the wrong people, people that at the end of the day makes him do those kind of things" He explains and I know that it is not a subject that makes him very happy.

"Alex has three group of friends" Helena turns around in her seat to look at me, she looks ready to explain everything to me, raising three fingers in the air."Us, the cool guys, the guys who he met at the bar, three other people, they're friend of high school. And some people he met at places he shouldn't had been, they never take care of him"

"He is not a child, Hel, he knows what he does" Rory interrupts her, but Helena rolls her eyes.

"Yes, of course he's not a child, Rory. But if you are wasted as hell and you want to drive your car in that state, I would take your keys away from you so you don't do a dumb thing, because that's what people who cares about you do, take care of you when you can't"

Suddenly, Rory remains silent.

"What do you mean, Helena?" I ask curious and she turns at me again.

"He does drugs sometimes, nothing serious though, it's not like he's a drug addict. He does it at parties if someone offers him, but he never buys anything on his own. But he goes to places where everyone offers him, all the time. For example, eveyone knows that when he takes strong pills he gets paranoid and stars seeing strange stuff, so we don't let him take them, but those people don't give a fuck, and neither does he."

"Oh, I get it..." I murmur "And who's this people?"

"Some guys and a girl, Megan" Rory answers this time "That's why he has his face like that, he got into a fight because of her, he didn't say exactly why, he only said it was for her. We don't like her, no one does, not even Luke."

"But you shouldn't blame a girl for his behaviour" I reproach him, but he didn't like what came out of my mouth, he looks at me fulminant from the rearview mirror.

"I know, June, I know more than anyone else. But it's not the same thing. This girl, Megan, it's different. She pushes him to do things, convinces him, tangles him, I can't stand it. Alex  is a very coherent person, but with her he becomes stupid, and not in a romantic way. It never is in a romantic way, quite the opposite, it's toxic."

Rory ends and I keep thinking about everything he said, wanting to ask more questions but keeping quiet.

"But he's a good guy, you know?" Helena says to me "With us he always has been the same boy. Besides, you liked him , isn't it?"

"Yes" I respond, letting out a long sigh. "I did."

taglist: (if you want to be in it let me know)

@youbloodymadgenius @wuxiesalt

[lady-divine-writes]

Coldflash - “How Much Is that Doggy in the Window?” (Rated NC17)

After little Lisa makes a surprise discovery, Barry and Len end up dredging up an age old argument - whether or not to get their daughter a dog. (2122 words)

Part 5 of the Father-hood series

Read on AO3.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” Lisa squeals, leaping straight into Barry’s arms the second he comes to a stop in their living room.

“Thank me?” He wraps his daughter in a huge bear hug, confused as all get out. “Thank me for what? Len?” Barry takes off his hood and looks at his husband, sitting like a king on his throne in his La-Z-Boy recliner. “What’s going on? When you called, you said it was urgent.”

“It is, in a sense,” Len starts, being obnoxiously vague as always when Barry wishes he would just answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer for once. “It seems that our little Lisa here figured out that we’ve been planning on getting her a dog.”

“What?” Barry asks, caught between pissed and paternal. Yes, the ever continuing ‘dog’ discussion is an important family saga, but it’s not exactly urgent. On the flip side, he wasn’t doing much down at S.T.A.R. Labs other than monitoring street cams in the industrial district. “Didn’t we specifically say no dog?”

“Oh, you don’t have to keep up the act, Daddy,” Lisa says, kissing him on the cheek. “I know you wanted to wait for my birthday but …” She sighs, her expression slipping from effervescent smile to apologetic frown “… I’m sorry I snooped. I’m sorry I found the collar.”

Barry’s confusion drops off his face like a rock, along with his jaw smacking to his chest. “Wh-what … wh-what collar?”

“The collar we’ve been hiding in that secret drawer beside our bed, Barry,” Len explains with a smirk.

“Uh, didn’t you make it perfectly clear that that drawer was off limits?” Barry asks, setting Lisa gingerly on her feet.

“A-ha. But apparently a little birdie told her that’s only because that’s where we hide all her presents.” Len stands and puts his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “And poor, impatient Lisa couldn’t resist.”

“And did you ask her who told her that?” Barry asks, teeth clenched tight. He suspects her Aunt Lisa, whom she was named after. Though, considering the company they keep, it could have been literally anyone on either side of the law.

Like Mick.

Yup, it had to be Mick, Barry decides. Pulling a prank like this is a very Mick Rory thing to do.

Barry’s just glad he kept it relatively PG … and non-lethal.

“Of course I did, Barry. Who do you think I am?” Len says with a wink, tongue-in-cheek reminding Barry how, in the past, his interrogation techniques were renowned in the underground.

“And what did she say?”

“She says she’s no snitch.”

“And you accepted that as an answer?”

“Accepted it? I respect it. She has honor.” Len beams down at his daughter’s glowing face. “I think that alone should earn her a dog.”

Barry looks at his daughter, staring up at him with excitement and hope-filled eyes. They shouldn’t be having this argument in front of her, especially since she’s about to be overruled. “Excuse us for a moment, Peanut. I have to talk to your father alone.”

“Ok, Daddy,” she says, plopping down happily in Len’s chair.

Barry grabs his husband’s arm and zips him out of the room, onto the front porch.

“She doesn’t deserve anything if she’s invading our privacy!” Barry scolds in a whisper, not certain Lisa won’t be listening at the door.

“Be happy she stopped at the collar, Barry. You and I both know there are way more psychologically damaging things in that drawer than that. Besides, what do you have against her getting a dog? I, for one, think it’s a good idea, considering you’re a superhero and I’m an ex-con. A Rottweiler or a pit bull might be good investment for the whole family.”

“We have a security system! A good one! The best! There are eyes on her at all times! But that’s not even the point. It’s the principle. We laid down a law …”

“A stupid law if you ask me.”

“Who’s going to take care of it?” Barry switches gears because, of course, his husband would have no respect for rules. “I’m barely at home during the day …”

“I’m a house-frau now. I’ll take care of it. And so will she. Bare, you can’t say no to her now. Not after …” Len can’t finish, snickering at the ridiculous reality of this little coup. Besides, in order for Lisa to get into that drawer of theirs, she had to have picked the lock.

Len is too proud over that to be upset.

“Len, this is not the way this is supposed to work! If she wants a dog, she needs to earn it!”

“By doing what? She’s already a straight-A student. She keeps her room clean, she makes dinner more nights than I do, and according to Felicity, she’s been troubleshooting most of Oliver Queen’s latest tech. What more do you want her to do, Barry? Save the world?”

“We need to talk things over,” Barry insists. “Hash them out. We need to discuss pros and cons, feeding and walking schedules, lay out some ground rules.”

“You and rules,” Len scoffs.

“Getting a dog is a huge responsibility!”

“More so than keeping your identity a secret? Because our kid has been doing that her entire life.”

Barry glares. “That’s not fair. That falls under the category of extenuating circumstances. I want to handle this the way a normal family would, Len, because that’s all I ever wanted for Lisa. Normal.”

“I hate to break it to you, Red, but you and I both failed at that right from the conception stage. Lisa’s not normal. She’s brilliant and talented, and more than likely will grow up to be a super-human crime fighter with a computer brain. And her life isn’t normal. It’s complicated. Severely complicated. In fact, getting her a dog is literally the most normal thing you can do for her, so let’s get her the damn dog!”

“That’s not a decision we should be making right now. Not while we’re arguing.”

“So what do we do? Huh? She already thinks she’s getting a dog.”

“Well, she’s mistaken. She needs to understand that she’s not going to get rewarded for messing around with things she has no right messing around with.”

“Ha!” Len barks, stepping in to his husband’s space, the shadow of a vengeful gleam veiling his eyes. “Two words, Barry Allen – time line.”

“Timeline is one word,” Barry retorts, clearing his throat of the awkward. “Lisa’s a big girl. She’s mature for her age. I’m sure that if we tell her the truth, she’ll understand.”

Len shakes his head. “Barry, if she’s mature enough to know that her parents have a collar kink, then she’s mature enough to own a dog. But, if that’s the way you feel about it, fine.”

“Good,” Barry says, a triumphant and relieved smile on his face. “I’m glad we agree.”

“For the record, we don’t agree,” Len says. “But at least, this time, I won’t be the bad guy.”

“Whatever.” Barry reaches for the door handle, but stops when he notices his husband retreat to the porch swing and sit down. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Truth is your territory. So have at it, Flash.”

“Nice.” Barry takes a deep breath and braces himself. Just because he won this argument doesn’t mean he’s looking forward to breaking his daughter’s heart. She’s wanted a dog for forever. And that look on her face when she leapt into his arms? That’s the happiest she’s been in a long time. But happy or no, he’s made up his mind.

He will not be manipulated into giving in, even if this whole thing did start with a misunderstanding.

He opens the door and walks into the house. He spots Lisa, rocking in the recliner and looking at her phone. He catches a peek at her screen and his heart deflates. During the course of his and Len’s conversation, she had started scrolling through a Pinterest board she’d made titled ‘Dogs of my Dreams’. She was adding to it – tiny little tea cup dogs, Pomeranians, Chihuahuas, poodles, and such.

He approaches his daughter slowly, preparing himself for the worst conversation of his life. A creak in the floor causes her to lift her head, and the smile that lights her face at her father’s approach is positively blinding.

Barry swallows hard. “Lisa?”

“Yeah, Daddy?”

Ugh. She called him Daddy. This is going to be impossible.

“There’s something I need to explain to you … about that collar.”

“Yes?”

Barry crouches down in front of her, meeting her eye to eye. “You see, sometimes when you buy a collar, it’s for a dog.”

“A-ha …” Lisa giggles, rolling her eyes as if to say duh!

“And sometimes, two people … two grown adults who don’t own a dog, might buy a collar to …”

“Yeah …”

“Well, they might buy a collar because …”

“Because …”

Barry looks at Lisa’s face, at that thousand-watt smile dimming with every second of this asinine explanation. Is he really going to do this? Is he really going to tell his beloved daughter that she can’t have a dog, and that that collar she found is one of among a dozen of her two fathers’ favorite sex toys? That the last time they used it, Barry himself was wearing it, and Len was riding him like bronco, growling in his ear and smacking his ass?

No. He can’t do that. What responsible parent would?

When Barry first found out he was going to be a father, his own father gave him some valuable life advice. “Pick your battles,” he’d said. “Because things will come up that you’ll never dream of, things that you would hope to never handle. But, in the end, when you’re debating right and wrong, you’ll have to decide – are you doing what’s best for your child? Or what’s best for you? Because, surprisingly, the two aren’t always the same.”

So Barry has to choose between psychological trauma or pet dog?

When he thinks of it in those terms, the answer is quite simple.

“Because they have a particular dog in mind,” he covers, smiling to match hers, to bring it back up the few notches it had fallen. “And the ones you’re looking at are way too small.”

“Really!?”

“Really! I mean, how are you going to play catch with a dog the size of a baseball? Not unless you’re using the dog as the ball.”

“Dad-dy!”

“So let’s go down to the shelter and find a dog big enough to fit that collar.”

“Yay!”

“Now (and this is the part Barry hates) go get your shoes on while I tell your father the good news.”

“Okay!” Lisa hops off the recliner and back into her father’s arms, squeezing him so tight, it takes Barry’s breath away. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, Peanut. Get going. We’re burning daylight.”

Lisa jets past her father at incredible speed, racing upstairs to her bedroom while Barry strolls onto the porch to inform Leonard Snart that they are, in fact, going to adopt a dog. She stops at the top landing when she hears her father say, “I’m proud of you, Flash. You’re making our little Bug very happy,” and smiles.

Lisa loves her family.

Her entire family.

She unlocks her phone and dials the first number in her phone log.

It only rings once.

“So, Kiddo. Did it work?”

“A-ha. Just like you said, Uncle Ollie.”

In his den at The Foundry, Oliver grins. “Good girl. Now, go get your dog. And make sure you send your mom and me tons of pictures when you do.”

“Sure thing. And thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” Oliver hangs up the call and slips his phone back in his pocket. Sitting beside him on the sofa, a mildly amused Felicity shakes her head.

“Well, well, well. It looks like Leonard Snart may be rubbing off on you a tiny bit.”

“Nonsense.” He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulls her close. “I was a sneaky, conniving s.o.b. long before he and I met.”

She nods. “Hmm. That’s true. But I feel bad.”

“Why? Don’t you think Lisa deserves a dog?”

“Yeah, but Barry told us about that collar in confidence. Did you have to use it against them?”

“I didn’t have to ...”

“We could have invited them over, and talked about it like adults,” Felicity says, a slight reprimand in her tone.

“Absolutely.” Oliver chuckles, imagining how uncomfortable it’s going to be for Barry and Leonard to see their newest family member strutting around their house wearing that particular collar. “But this was more fun.”

[frazzledsoul]

So many, many, many years ago (remember, I’m old) I was heavily involved in following a television love triangle where the female lead was trying to decide between her shoehorned-in would-be boyfriend and the offscreen father of her infant children and longtime love interest, who was no longer on the show because the actor playing him had become very, very famous and left the show.

I was not in favor of the woman in the middle of this triangle becoming errrr . . . physically involved with the would-be boyfriend while still debating whether to get back together with the father of her children, especially as the would-be boyfriend seemed completely unaware of the other person in this triangle.

I was told over and over again (on Usenet: remember, old) by people supposedly much wiser and more mature than myself that this behavior was perfectly normal and healthy and not at all abusive or inconsiderate to the parties involved and when I grew up I would learn to appreciate how infidelity and dishonesty were just part of how adult relationships worked.

In retrospect, this seems a little silly, as the person at the center of this triangle was not having sex with her would-be boyfriend or her long-time love interest, but none of us knew that at the time I was being lectured.

In the next couple of years, I became very well aware how cheating and deceit are a large part of how so-called adults choose to deal with each other.

In fact, I have spent the majority of my life cleaning up the damage that’s left behind in the wake of these adult activities. I’ve heard all of the excuses and rationalizations when people decide that feeling good and getting revenge takes precedence over any sense of loyalty or commitment or human decency.

I’m the person that cleans up the emotional carnage when you see what Lorelai did to Luke in Partings happens in real life.

It’s horrible and messy and utterly disastrous to the people on the other side of it and those that have to take care of them or their children.

And it hurts.

I have not changed my mind about these kinds of activities being a normal, accepted part of adult life. In fact, now that I’ve seen the consequences in live, bloody detail, I am more convinced than ever how wrong they are.

Growing up doesn’t always mean abandoning your conscience. Sometimes it means remembering why you have to hold onto it.

And I have zero tolerance for any bullshit justifications, either in life or in fiction.

So in my many instances of cleaning up the detritus that gets left behind when these incidents occur, there are a few things I can tell you for sure.

Talking isn’t the same as fucking.

“I was emotional” is not an adequate excuse for one’s behavior.

If someone is granted forgiveness immediately for either of the aforementioned reasons, there is a 100% change they will do it again when the next crisis hits. People do what they get away with. Period.

Is there a way to forgiveness and repentance in all of this? Sure. But it can’t be immediate. And it can’t be easy. I’ve found that if it is, the offending party will end up doing the same thing. Over and over.

So why am I bringing this up?

Okay, so I’m getting to the really difficult parts of my post OS series Boundaries.

Obviously, there are real life reasons why I feel so strongly about what happened in the show. And I’m going to be pretty harsh on Lorelai in the next few chapters. There are a lot of things I needed to say about the situation, and I think that there are some things that Luke needed to say to Lorelai that he didn’t get to say in the show.

It’s okay for him to feel hurt and angry and betrayed about what happened to him just as much as it’s okay for the real-life Lukes to feel that way. And it’s okay for me to say that here, because it was okay for me to feel that way, even if these people are not real.

I have been there when they have been real.

The last review on this story was pretty rough. It’s from someone who is fairly influential in the L/L fanfic world, who is involved behind the scenes in a lot of different stories. This person was not fond of the fact that I did not make Lorelai a martyr who is blameless for her actions and a helpless pawn of the men around her. I understand that some fans really seem to recoil at the idea that she bore any responsibility for her own behavior, and this particular person seems pretty hostile to the fact that it was wrong in any way.

But the fact is that she did something pretty terrible, that was considered a betrayal by both people involved, and she did not shy away from the consequences. I didn’t write that. The show did. And as awful as season 7 was in some ways, I’m glad that they didn’t back away from it.

It was Lorelai who only told Luke about his indiscretion because she knew it was the one thing that would drive him away for good. It was Lorelai who told Sookie that telling him was one of the worst moments of her life. It was Lorelai who insisted to Rory that it was a mistake when Rory yelled at her for placing her in the middle of her accursed late thirtysomething love triangle. It was Lorelai who eventually apologized and said she should have done it a lot sooner.

I’m not putting anything out there that Lorelai didn’t admit to a long, long time ago.

Of course, Luke was not a martyr in this mess, either, and I’m not going to make him one. He did a lot of really fucked up things for a long time, and I plan to call him on them. It’s not a one-sided situation for either of the people here.

I’m not going to block or name the person that left me that review.  I’m not really sure why she was upset that I’m letting Lorelai take responsibility for her actions in the story I’m writing, since I already mentioned half a dozen times that she feels fairly guilty about her part in what went wrong. But that’s her opinion, and she’s entitled to it, and I actually welcome bad (and good!) reviews. I just wanted to explain for my part how I view the situation.

So now I will shut up about this topic and get back to writing.

[rtell1]

Love is Courage

Rory Tell 

Professor Ward – Love and Film 

Love is Choice 

Whenever I think of AI and love, my default as a 21st century human is to think about Black Mirror. When looking at Spike Jonze’s Her, I think of a specific favorite of mine within the Black Mirror catalogue. The episode “Be Right Back” is in many ways the most beautiful and haunting story of a postmodern romance. Most of the emotional Black Mirror episodes examine something about life that we as humans are either desperately afraid to lose or desperately trying to recapture, and those ideas are also intertwined with each other. “Be Right Back” though doesn’t frame those questions as a future consideration, as a virtual afterlife; instead, it is about the present, the here and the now. It asks us to consider on a fundamental level if we would bring back the person, we loved who was ripped away from us. This is a timeless question. It asks us whether a facsimile of a person could ever be good enough to replicate one’s love? Even more haunting though, it forces us to consider if the answer to that question is no, whether people would still be able to cast their loved one aside if the tech was there. And this is not just presumptuous, as Susan Schneider notes, “This is not mere speculation. The Future of Humanity Institute at Oxford University has released a report on the technological requirements for uploading a mind to a machine. A Defense Department agency has funded a program, Synapse, that is trying to develop a computer that resembles a brain in form and function.”  Putting consciousness within an AI has been a topic of conversation for as long as I have lived. It has been my stance that the capacity to be conscious is specific to human beings, so that even the smartest AI robots would be devoid of the conscious experience. If this view were correct, then a relationship between a human being and a program like AI Ash, however intelligent he might be, would be hopelessly one-sided. 

To me, the answer to all these extremely tough questions can be boiled down to one scene in the episode. At one-point Martha, played by Hayley Atwell, tells her once dead, but now AI husband, Ash, played by Doomhnall Gleeson, to leave the house after an argument. Ash listens to Martha and does his responsibility as an AI, deciding to leave the house per her instructions. Martha is visibly upset that the AI appears to leave, as no human would go without a fight or at least try to settle the argument at hand. Instead the AI is void of its ability to choose, it has no free will. Robbing someone of that choice, the ability to decide whom one loves is not a theory I prescribe to. This is my essential problem with AI, the understanding of free will and the ability to choose. With respect to love, there is little that is more important to me than the idea that someone chooses me, and I choose them. It is a simple notion, but it means the world to me, and I am sure a lot of others as well. Now I understand arranged marriages in some cultures function, but in my own worldview, reciprocated love is where my fundamental understanding of choice and love are derived. 

Personally, while the best Black Mirror episodes are the ones that go beyond the tech itself, and examine the human condition, I am not always sure I could say the same for Her that is “so entranced with his central conceit that he [Jonze] can barely move beyond it.”  Yet, I think Her is surprisingly at its best and most dazzling when it chooses to focus on the human elements that make up the story. While the first rush of new love feels as real and euphoric as any traditional relationship, Theodore and his AI girlfriend slowly sours into disaffection and jealousy with just as much familiarity. Yet, where I think Jonze’s film reaches a more captivating lens in which to examine love is in the way that, “some will see Her as an indictment of what we’ve done to ourselves by digitizing human interaction. Others will choose instead to focus on the hopeful concept that every time we love, no matter how we do it, it helps change the person we are. There’s more than that though, as Jonze urges us to revise the one constant in all our relationships: ourselves.”  I think this is a fascinating concept to think of in the digital age. The Internet warps so much of our lives that it can be tough to take a step back and reflect on oneself. That is why the tragedy in Her is looking at Theodore and seeing someone who will continue to blindly follow the impulse of the heart, regardless of how it will result in both pain and sadness. In fact, tech Jonze arguing only further facilitates in more complex ways the potential for romantic irrationality if we do not step back and consider what we as humans and as individuals want. In fact the oddest part of Her that made it all the more relevant to the conversation in our own class was the mentioning of “alarmist news stories about the problems of Japanese teenagers who have become entirely apathetic towards sex and are unknowingly diminishing the government tax base.”  Thus, why I agree that sometimes Jonze’s movie can get caught up with the inherent conceit of the film, ultimately to me Her is about the choices we make as humans in regards to love and furthermore, how couples talk and justify their actions. This is what I think makes Her a more timeless movie than I originally gave credit.

[timeflies1007-blog]

Doctor Who Reviews by a Female Doctor, Season Five, part II

Please note: these reviews contain spoilers for this season as well as other seasons of the reboot, and contain occasional references to the classic series.

Vampires of Venice: I usually like Toby Whithouse’s writing, and this isn’t really a bad episode on its own terms, but its continuation of the silliness that started at the end of the last episode kind of destroys it for me. There are plenty of good things: the “vampires” are effectively creepy, there are some good supporting performances here from Helen McCrory and Lucian Msamati, Smith gets some good comedy to work with, the episode is well-paced and fairly clever, the scenario of another dying species is a good way of introducing this Doctor’s approach to his actions in the Time War, and we get some intriguing references to the Silence. When the Doctor interacts with Rosanna, the story is vibrant and compelling—the two work together brilliantly, and Venice provides a nice backdrop for their struggle.

However, the Amy/Rory/Doctor romance situation continues to be really unpleasant, to the point where it makes it difficult to enjoy the episode. Part of the issue is that the love triangle is still being played as comedy; poor Rory may not be a fully formed character at this point, but he deserves better than to have the Doctor pop out of a cake at his stag party to announce to everyone that Amy kissed him. Rory does get some good moments in this episode, including the revelation that after the events of “The Eleventh Hour,” he started doing research into sci-fi theories—something which way more characters on shows like this should be doing—and his accusation that the Doctor endangers people by making them want to impress him. The rest of the time, though, he’s just stuck being jealous of the relationship between Amy and the Doctor, and one of his conversations with the Doctor features easily the worst joke of the season: “And you kissed her back.” “No, I kissed her mouth.” Good grief. The general ickiness of the vampire-fish plot makes the stupid love triangle look even worse—the Doctor does at least acknowledge that the effort to kidnap and transform young women so that they can re-people the fish monster race is unusually gross, but having a storyline like this while Amy’s sex life is being mishandled just seems particularly problematic. The actual portrayal of Amy is less troubling than the last scene of the previous episode was, largely because she seems more confused and uncertain and less traumatized, but she’s still a weaker character here than she was in most of the previous episodes. I don’t really have much to say about this episode—it’s an entertaining enough plot, but my general response to the love triangle story is just to shut my eyes, put my fingers in my ears, and wait for it to get better. Fortunately, this is only one episode away, but for now, I would have preferred Venice and its “vampires” if they hadn’t been burdened with the nonsense that the show is currently making Amy go through. C+

Amy’s Choice: “There’s something that doesn’t make sense…let’s go and poke it with a stick” says the Doctor, in a story that pokes at absurdity in a surprisingly delightful way. As the concluding episode in the ill-advised love triangle subplot, this episode should be a disaster, and yet it somehow manages to pull off a difficult story with a huge amount of charm and very little material that is reductive or insulting to the characters. I don’t love the idea of Amy being forced to choose what she wants in a life or death scenario, but this episode is pretty much the best possible version of this plot. It’s helped by a marvelously comedic script—the dialogue sparkles here to a greater extent than almost any other episode this season, giving us a fantastically funny version of the Doctor but also (and perhaps more impressively) of the other major characters as well. “I was promised amazing worlds. Instead I get duff central heating and a weird kitcheny wind-up device” doesn’t seem out of character for Rory, but it portrays his slightly aggravated regular guy persona in a memorable way, something that previous episodes hadn’t really managed. I love Amy going on about Leadworth’s terrible amateur dramatic society, which is about to attempt Oklahoma!, and I love even more her determined assertion that “If we’re going to die, let’s die looking like a Peruvian folk band” as she hands out warm clothing. The Dream Lord gets in some solid insults toward the Doctor--“If you had any more tawdry quirks you could open a tawdry quirk shop” is a pretty true statement, and really makes me want to see what a Tawdry Quirk Shop would look like. Some of the best moments for the Doctor himself come in the form of tiny details; I found his turning the “Open” sign around as he escapes into the shop to be an especially hilarious piece of the Doctor’s bizarre logic. The writers have started to get what kind of lines work best with Smith’s particular brand of quirkiness, and lines like “What a nice bench, what will they think of next?” and “Did I say a nightmare? More of a really good…mare” don’t seem especially funny on their own but they play nicely into the strengths of Smith’s acting.

Beyond the humor, this episode benefits from being immaculately structured. The zooming back and forth between dream worlds, with transitions marked by birdsong, makes for an exhilarating plot, and the continuation of time in both worlds simultaneously adds to the sense of stakes. The frozen TARDIS is a pretty simple idea, but it looks brilliant, and the story of the fantastically-named Mrs. Poggit and the Evil Elderly People is sort of wonderfully ridiculous. The actual choice that Amy has to make is set up as sensitively as the love triangle stupidity permits, and I particularly like that the story separates choosing Rory from choosing the fantasy of domesticity in the first dream world. It initially looks like staying with Rory means committing to the dream of being pregnant and a bit bored in Upper Leadworth, but her eventual realization of her feelings for Rory prompts her to destroy that world. She’s ultimately given a choice between two different versions of her life with Rory, rather than a choice between Rory and the Doctor, and there’s only a little bit of outright competitiveness, so it mostly feels like Amy thinking through what kind of life she wants to pursue with Rory rather than having to pick which man she wants. This is really important to the episode, which would pretty much be a lot of good jokes in the service of a bad, offensive story if it had mishandled the substance of the choices that she’s given here. No one seems to have put any thought whatsoever into how to begin the love triangle in a way that avoided outright character assassination, but there at least appears to have been some thought about how to resolve it without making a mockery of the characters. Amy also has real chemistry with Rory here, especially in the very cute scene in which he cuts off his ponytail. I had no real interest in their relationship after the previous episode, but I’m quite happy with them as a couple here.

A lot of this episode is bright and sunshiny and fun, but it’s also organized around the idea that the darkness in the characters is informing everything that happens. The Doctor claims that it is his darkness alone, but that’s pretty clearly not true, and there’s a lot of fun to be had in trying to figure out which bits of the story came from which character. The secretly sinister version of quiet, peaceful Upper Leadworth is a pretty clear reflection of Amy’s hesitation toward the world that she ran away from, while the frozen, drifting TARDIS is both the Doctor’s worst nightmare and, possibly, an expression of Rory’s uncertainty about whether the life of traveling and adventures is what he wants. The Dream Lord does a good job of taunting the Doctor, noting that his friends never see him again once they’ve grown up, but he’s even better at pointing out Amy’s flawed understanding of the Doctor, including her assertions that he never has to apologize for anything and that he tells her everything. The darkest moment is the first of many “deaths” for Rory, which is memorable mostly for Amy’s certainty that the Doctor will be able to fix it: “What is the point of you?” she demands when he can’t. I was put off, at first, by her total willingness to possibly commit suicide in order to reject this dream world, both because it makes her seem incapable of living without her fiancé and because she is pregnant with what seems like a baby she wants. Still, her language in this scene suggests that at least part of her thinking centers on an inability to believe that this can be the real world, as if the Dream Lord’s introduction of false realities prompted her to start putting tragedy in the “unreal” category. It’s not a healthy state of mind, but I can imagine it being a very tempting one, and the episode as a whole works very well as a large-scale version of Amy’s tendency to write bad things out of her understanding of reality.

           The episode definitely has some iffy romantic things happening, which was inevitable given the love triangle arc it was a part of, but unlike the last episode and the end of “Flesh and Stone,” they’re at least happening to complex, layered people who are fun to watch. I don’t think it was really possible for this episode to emerge from the love triangle business completely unscathed, but it really brings much more sensitivity and humor to a bad setup than I would have expected, and it brings a very welcome stop to the Rory vs. the Doctor romance nonsense instead of letting it unfold across the season. Given where this plotline started, resolving it in a way that I actually like is…well, not quite as miraculous as rebooting the universe, but it’s pretty close. A-

The Hungry Earth: Things coming up from underground to grab you and pull you under is a properly scary concept, and the Silurians are good monsters, but this episode doesn’t reach the potential of either of those things. It’s odd, because when he returns in Season Seven, Chibnall’s strong point is that he is especially good at writing the Ponds: “The Power of Three,” for instance, has one of the most pointless plots in the show’s history, but still mostly works for me because the tension that Amy and Rory feel between their time-travel adventures and ordinary lives is so beautifully realized. There are some questionable moments with the Doctor in Chibnall’s Season Seven episodes, but some really great moments as well, particularly in his reaction to having to deal with the slow pace of life in the Ponds’ home. Here, though, it’s like Chibnall is going out of his way to make Amy, Rory, and the Doctor into unlikeable characters. There are constant jokes about how Amy’s wearing tiny shorts because she was expecting to go to Rio. There’s an awkward conversation in which Amy seems really uncommitted to her relationship with Rory, even though the previous episode ended on exactly the opposite note. Then she falls down a hole, after which she gets nothing to do in the episode beyond being terrified. We get a brief shot of her covered by dirt, she lies in a glass case and yells until she gets knocked out with gas, and then she wakes up in chains and wriggles about a bit before Mo tells her not to struggle because she’s just going to be dissected anyways. It’s a complete waste of Karen Gillan’s abilities, particularly after all the interesting work that was done with her in “Amy’s Choice.” Meanwhile, Rory wanders around, gets mistaken for a police officer, and just goes with it for no reason. I get that you might go along with whatever job you were mistaken for having if you were in space or the distant future or past because of the need to create a role for yourself in a world that you don’t actually belong in, but pretending to be a police officer when close to one’s own time and place just seems irresponsible. He does help the Doctor to trap a Silurian in some sort of meals on wheels van, which is fun, but otherwise there isn’t anything interesting for Rory to do here. The Doctor does a lot of shouting when Amy falls down the hole, and then he gets in a lengthy argument with Nasreen and Tony about whether various science-fictiony things are possible, and then doesn’t do much of note until making a speech about needing everyone to be the best of humanity, which falls awfully flat. Last week’s episode showed that the Doctor, Amy, and Rory can be absolutely delightful together, but they’re very dull characters here.  

           Minor characters vary in quality. Nasreen is fantastic—easily one of the best single-story characters of the season. She feels like a believable, interesting person almost immediately, and her TARDIS entrance is probably the best moment of the episode. Tony and Mo are all right, but Ambrose is already questionable, in preparation for being an outright disaster in the next episode, and Elliot is mostly annoying, although he has a nice conversation with the Doctor about wanting to leave home. Alaya is pretty one-note, but Neve McIntosh (who will eventually be cast as Madame Vastra) makes her as compelling as possible. The actual science-fiction plot here is really pretty good. There is some cool stuff with computer models, and some very nicely-directed horror sequences, especially the scene in which they frantically try to open the door to let Elliot in, only to find he has disappeared. The Silurians’ status as monsters who are not actually aliens makes them unique among the creatures on this show, so the story definitely carries a level of excitement, and the attention to the dangers of drilling grounds the story in the real world in an interesting way. By the end of the episode, though, Nasreen is the only character that I’m invested in, and so the good pieces of the plot just don’t mean very much to me. C+

Cold Blood: The title is appropriate for an awfully chilly episode. Nasreen continues to be a great character, and the Silurian civilization is visually very well done, but I find this episode difficult to get through. The most generous reading of it is that it was trying to do an interesting gender reversal, in that the male characters are mostly very peaceful, while Alaya, Restac, and Ambrose are militant or impulsively violent. It’s a workable concept, but it doesn’t come across well here because there is no effort to give this violence any depth or coherent motivation. All three of these characters are extremely one-dimensional, and very obviously wrong, and they are constantly being talked down to by men in a way that suggests the show sides unequivocally with the male characters. This is especially true of the insistence on hammering home exactly how terrible Ambrose is as a person. I don’t like Ambrose, but watching everyone tell her how much of a failure she is over and over and over gets cringeworthy, and it brings out the Doctor’s self-righteous side to an unbearable degree. He is perfectly fine with the Silurian scientist, who dissects and experiments on kidnapped people, but all he can think of for Ambrose is repeated scolding laced with contempt. (This season had been doing all right, until this point, with working with the Doctor’s arrogance in a way that was intriguing and not annoying; even his biggest burst of self-righteousness, in “The Beast Below,” gets shut down pretty much immediately by Amy figuring out a better plan than his. This episode, though? Definitely up there with Tennant lecturing Torchwood/UNIT/whatever other authority figures got thrown at him in terms of making the Doctor look like a big, dismissive jerk.) You could do really interesting work with, for instance, the idea that Ambrose’s maternal instincts actually prompt immoral behavior, but this is only interesting if you treat her like a person and not as a punching bag. The tone of the episode is honestly pretty close to sadistic pleasure in pointing out just how much of a failure she is, and that removes all of the potential from what might be a worthwhile look at gender stereotypes.

Amy at least gets to do something other than be a victim in this episode, but she still doesn’t seem like a fully realized character here. Her attempt to rescue the Doctor is completely treated as a joke, and even after this she mostly just sits around and provides humorous lines. You wouldn’t really know, from watching most of this episode, that she’s a main character in this show, because she just comes across as sort of background comic relief. I like the idea of having Amy and Nasreen negotiate with the Silurians for the fate of the planet, but Amy appears to be trying to take a nap during most of it, although she wakes up for long enough to suggest putting the Silurians in deserts. I like that the Doctor tries to stay out of the negotiation and allow humans and Silurians to take care of the situation themselves, but if he wants to provide encouragement he could find something more productive to do than stand around telling everyone to be extraordinary. In the end, the Silurians just decide to go back to hibernation for a long time, so nothing really comes of this entire storyline anyways. The issue of whether Silurians and humans could share the planet makes this episode similar to the Silurians’ debut episode back in Season Seven of the classic series, but this episode never finds the depth that that earlier episode managed to bring to this scenario.

           Because the main plot does very little of interest, this episode is mostly memorable because of its shocking final scene, in which Rory is swallowed up by the crack in time. It’s a surprising development, and a far more emotional scene than the rest of the episode. While Rory has some good moments in the first two thirds of the season, he hasn’t really stood out to me as a character by this point; still, it’s horrifying to watch someone be erased from time, and Gillan does a nice job with Amy’s dramatic shift from agonized grief to complete forgetfulness. The explanation of why she could remember the clerics who were erased by the crack in time but not Rory is a bit half-baked, but otherwise it’s a solid scene that ends a highly questionable episode on a much more positive note. C+

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Cleanup on Aisle Four

For this week’s @ficcingcaptaincanary prompt: Shopping. I actually wrote most of this back in the fall and then abandoned it because I decided it was too silly.

It’s still silly. And fluffy. But what the hell, right?

Thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta. Can also be read here at AO3 and here at FF.net.

Mick has it all planned out.

Haircut, the professor, and the captain are off consulting with one of Haircut’s former colleagues at a university somewhere here in River City, 2017. They probably won’t be back until tonight. Everyone else on the ship is occupied in some way, even the Boss. It’s perfect timing, really.

(He shakes his head at the name. Old habits…they die hard.)

He saunters along the corridor, trying for an air of nonchalance. But right as he gets to the hatch, he hears the step behind him.

“Going somewhere?”

With a sigh, he stops. Turns. Shakes his head at the duo who’ve appeared out of nowhere in the hallway behind him. Both of them move too damn quietly. Who would have thought the Boss would ever hook up with someone so goddamn like himself?

“I thought you two were still in Snart’s room, swapping spit.”

The Boss…Snart…narrows his eyes at Mick’s words, but Sara just laughs.

“We took a break,” she drawls. Oh great, now they’re starting to sound like each other. “But where are you going? Off to find a bar without us? I’m hurt, Mick.”

Oh, like the two of you aren’t always vanishing without me these days? But he doesn’t say it. Whatever fragile peace they’ve found in each other, he’s glad of it. They’re all damaged goods in their own way. “Nah.” He glances around, realizes that somehow, he’s become sensitive to hurting the feelings of a goddamn AI, and sighs again. “I’m sick of all the sugar-free horse crap on board.”

Sara perks up immediately. “Grocery run?”

“Yeah.” He lifts an eyebrow at Snart. “You gonna play mother hen again?”

Snart’s lips twitch. It’s Sara’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh?” she says inquisitively. “Do I want to know about this?”

“Boss here used to make sure that Lisa ate something other than junk and sometimes he forgot that his responsibility didn’t extend to other adults.” He modulates his voice into a Snart-like drawl. “Mick, beer is not a food group. Mick, did you buy anything with a main ingredient that isn’t salt or sugar? Mick, where the fuck are the vegetables?”

He’s trying to annoy the other man, but Snart just looks amused.  “Someone,” he drawls in response, “had to be the responsible adult. You both would have lived on chips and soda if I hadn’t stepped in, cooked something else from time to time.”

Sara looks intrigued. “Wait. You can cook?” She studies Snart like he’s just confessed to being an actual law-abiding citizen.

“More or less.” He jerks a finger at Mick. “And he’s acting the asshole, but he can actually grill.”

“Well. Give me an open flame and I can do things. Sometimes they're even good things.”

“Mmm.” Sara licks her lips. “I think we need steaks, then. Something that didn’t come from Gideon’s stores and hydroponics. No offense, Gideon.”

“None taken, Mrs. Lance.” The AI’s voice actually sounds interested. “Mr. Rory, I cannot allow an open flame on the Waverider…”

“So you’ve told me…”

“…but it would do none of you any harm to, for this stop, eat some food that is different from what I can provide.” Gideon’s voice goes a touch prim again. “Although I would, as always, recommend against partaking of too much sugar, sodium, and alcohol. Not that anyone listens to me on that last, even the captain.”

“It’s OK, Gideon, at the rate we’re going, he’ll be out in a month.”

“You have not yet found it all, Mr. Snart.”

“Oh?” But the gleam in Snart’s eyes at a new challenge changes as Sara puts her hand on his arm.

“Down, boy. I want steak. And chocolate. And veggies that grew in actual dirt.”

“Hmmph.” But he backs down. Mick shakes his head in amusement.

“OK. There’s a grocery store that looks good not too far away. We can get…”

“You’re taking me with you.”

Somehow, the discussion had been involved enough that even one of the less stealthy members of the team has been able to sneak up on the three of them. Jax stands in the corridor, arms crossed, trying to look imposing but really managing only desperate.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Sara asks the air rhetorically. “Sure. More arms to carry stuff.”

Met with acceptance instead of opposition, Jax deflates. “Great. I’d do a lot to get off this ship for a while. But let’s go before Kendra finds out or she’ll want us to buy…”

“I’d want you to buy what?”

It’s almost funny how Jax freezes. OK, it is funny. Their sometimes-winged teammate eyes him with a smile, then shakes her head. “I don’t care what sort of junk you buy. But I’d kill for some fresh fruit. Or sushi. Even grocery store sushi.”

And just like that, it’s an expedition.

For a group of people who’ve been used to quick forays to dive bars and tiny, often-old-fashioned convenience stores or Mom-and-Pops – if that -- during most Waverider pit stops, the giant, modern grocery store is paradise.

Kendra starts determinedly for the produce section, while Mick heads for the meat department with Jax trailing behind. Sara mutters something about chocolate and sets out, a woman on a mission.

Snart follows her with a touch of bemusement, wondering about the last time he’s done anything even remotely this domestic. Quite a while ago, he thinks. When they—he, Mick, Lisa—had all been much younger, certainly.

By the time he’s caught up to her, Sara’s found the candy aisle and selected a bar of dark chocolate about as big as his two hands together. Perusing the selection, she shrugs and picks up another one, grinning at him. “Heaven knows when we’ll get another shopping run, right?”

“Right.”  He picks up a package of peppermint gum. “What else did you want?”

“Mick’s grabbing the steaks, right? I do want to take a look at the produce section. Maybe some beer, something different. You?”

“That all sounds good.” He shrugs. “Lead on.”

But she hesitates, just a moment. He lifts an eyebrow at her as she steps closer to him, leans in conspiratorially, and says, sotto voce, “Do we have money? Or...?”

“Sara, I haven’t shopli…” he takes a quick look around, “….acquired groceries in that fashion since I was a teenager. I have cash.”

“Ah, but was it legally obtained cash?”

“Does it matter?”

“Nope.” She grins at him…he will never stop enjoying the sight of that smile…and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Humph!”

They both look around to see a sour-faced older woman glaring at them from the end of the aisle. From her entire demeanor—arms crossed, head tilted back so she can look down her nose at them—it’s abundantly clear that they’re the target of her righteous condemnation.

So it’s inevitable that Sara’s next action is to laugh, grab him by the collar of his jacket, drag his head down to hers and kiss him even more thoroughly. With tongue.

“Huummph!!!”

Now their onlooker looks downright aghast. As if two consenting adults kissing each other in the grocery store is an absolute harbinger of the end of polite society as we know it. Privately, Leonard wonders why she just doesn’t walk away.

But because a Sara Lance who’s been “humph”ed twice over PDA in a grocery store is a Sara Lance who may very well progress to jumping him right in the candy aisle, he decides to take matters into his own hands. Before she, ah, does.

Meeting her eyes—one does not surprise the assassin—he steps toward her, reaches out, and pulls her into his arms, dipping her back into a kiss that bends her nearly down to the floor. And because she’s Sara, and she’s amazingly flexible, she curves a leg up and around his waist as he does so.

“HUMPH!”

But there’s applause over the sound of disapproval, and he feels his face heat as he stands them both up, realizing that they’re acquired a smiling, although rapidly dispersing audience.  The “humph”er, apparently dismayed by public approval, is gone.

Sara is grinning from ear to ear. “Well. That was fun!” She tucks an errant piece of hair behind her ear and takes a closer look at him. “Len…you’re blushing!”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell Mick.”

“Maaayyyybe. If you make it worth my while.” She laces her fingers with his as they walk to the produce section, where she chooses a bag of locally grown apples and Leonard picks out, despite mild teasing, a few bundles of fresh asparagus that he insists they can grill with the steaks.

“Hey, look. Mick’s thinking ahead.” Sara points, and Len glances over her head to see his friend approaching them from the far end of the produce section. The other man, Jax trailing along just behind him, is pushing a cart loaded with goods from the butcher department…and a small grill and several bags of charcoal.

“That’s good. Gideon gets a little pissy if she thinks you’re asking for frivolous…crap!”

“What?” Sara spins back around. “Oooh.”

Mick’s path through the twists and turns of the produce section has been blocked. And they can both see the impending eruption from here.

If the other cart had been neatly pulled over to the side, its user standing out of the way to look at the selection of bagged salads, there would have been no issue for anyone wishing to pass. That is not the case.

Instead, the cart is parked askew in the aisle, blocking the entire thing, while its apparent user is peering at the lettuce, oblivious to the world, chatting away on his cell phone while blocking Mick and Jax from the only convenient path into the department.

As Sara and Leonard start in that direction, they can tell that Jax says something, his body language vaguely conciliatory. (Whether toward the oblivious shopper or Mick is anyone’s guess.) The man glances at him vaguely, then away, merely ratcheting up the volume on his discussion of the failings of the local football team.

Jax repeats himself. (Mick's gaze promises fire and death.) This time, the other shopper—apparently born without any innate sense of self-preservation—looks right at him...and moves the cart a bit to more thoroughly block the aisle.

Now Jax looks pissed too. Peachy. Mick's eyes are narrowed. Leonard sees him take a breath...he's not going to get there in time...

And Sara dodges in, smoothly, forcibly checking the cart out of the way, jarring Captain Oblivious into dropping his bag of spring mix. Jax grabs their cart and steers it through the gap and out of harm's way; Mick, deflating, follows with a quiet "Thanks, Blondie."

The fellow recovers, turns to glare at the small blonde who's watching him with arms folded and a steely glare. He opens his mouth...Sara's eyes narrow further...

Watching, Leonard sees the moment the fellow's hindbrain kicks in and tells him, "Oh, hell, not a good idea." The man actually takes a step backward, bumping into his cart, as he stares at Sara likes she's going to stab him with the loaf of French bread in his cart.

Sara takes another step toward him, and then, then gives him a sunny smile and turns with a little wave, strolling back to where Leonard's waiting with amusement. The whole thing takes less than a minute.

“Crisis averted. And thanks,” he sighs. “Thank god Mick doesn’t have the temper he used to.” He gives her a smile. “Can you imagine what it was like shopping with him and my sister when we were younger?”

“Well, I haven’t met your sister yet, but from what I’ve heard…you have my sympathy.”

"Thanks."

The five of them converge at the front of the store, Kendra unloading her armload of produce and sushi and chocolate chip cookies--"What?" she says—into the cart as they all pool cash and squabble over who has to wait in line.

A ruckus at the service counter, though, cuts through even that, and Sara can feel Leonard's attention being caught and held as she turns to look too.

A well-dressed man is leaning well into the space of the small woman behind the counter, spraying spittle and increasingly loud invective as he waves a receipt at her.

“I’m sorry, sir. There are no returns on these," she says gamely. "It says right on the racks. And I can return the bottled water, but it is taxed in this state. No, sir...."

Leonard's tensing and on the verge of heading over there (Sara puts a hand on his shoulder, but can't decide whether to stop him or not) when the man, red-faced and still visibly seething, throws the paper in the cashier's face and turns to walk away, into the store...then spins and fires back what he obviously thinks is a real zinger: “Get a real job, you bitch!”

The woman, her mouth a thin line that speaks as much of held-back tears as the way she’s rapidly blinking, squares her shoulders and, pasting a falsely bright smile on her face, turns back to help the next customer.

Sara sighs, and looks at Leonard, only to blink at the sheer depth of anger in his eyes.

“You know, my mother worked at a grocery store for a while,” he says shortly. “Second job, or third. Trying to make sure we could keep the power on and a few groceries in the house even when Lewis was in Iron Heights or drinking away whatever paycheck he was earning, if there was one.

“She came home more than one night utterly defeated...well, more so than she already was. People think they can treat retail workers like shit."

“You’re not kidding, man.” Jax is frowning. “My mom did that for a bit and, wow, did she have some tales."

Leonard is still studying the young woman. “My guess...she's a single mom. And a college student. Trying to juggle both and work."

Sara gives him a questioning look.

“No ring, and that pin on her smock is definitely a product of a preschool kid. And there are ink stains on her hands. She’s exhausted, and that’s not hung-over or out-partying-all-night exhaustion.” He gives her a thin smile. “I pay attention."

He looks back at the young woman and seems to come to a decision. "Jax, think you can find the front-end manager in here, get a read on him or her?

The younger man blinks. "Uh. Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Decent human being or another asshole. And if the former, rule-follower or someone who’s willing to…bend things a bit, in a good cause. Sara…” He pulls out his wallet. “Would you run over to the department store next door, get me a suit coat and a pair of reading glasses, wire rims, the weaker the better? And then set the bag just behind that display of pumpkins outdoors."

She takes the offered bills. “What are you up to?”

He just smiles. "Mick, text me when asshole there leaves. Now..."

Kendra puts up a hand. "I was a barista," she reminds him. "Customer service, remember? What can I do to help? "

"Check out with the groceries." He smiles at her. "If something goes south, you can bail us out."

With a grumbled "I never get to have any fun," Kendra goes to get in line. Sara gives Leonard one more long look, then turns to head for the department store, as Mick, chortling, heads back into the store and Jax follows him. Leonard casts a practiced look at the security cameras, then, smiling, strolls toward the exit.

Asshole leaves not long later, casually tossing abuse toward the cashier who checks out his pricey fancy beer and departing for the parking lot. A few moments later, a rather professorial type saunters back in the same set of doors.

The man who walks back into the store is obviously Leonard Snart, if you know what you're looking for, but with the leather jacket swapped out for a suit coat and wire-rimmed glasses. Watching from near the front of the store, Sara hums to herself in speculative admiration. Kendra shakes her head at her friend, but lifts an eyebrow herself, studying the crook with a faint grin on her face.

Snart circles into the store, tracing a path that lets him avoid cameras, then makes his way back to the front end, studying things momentarily before making a beeline for a middle-aged woman Jax has texted him about, who’s standing there studying what seems to be a schedule.

Sara can’t hear the first words he says to her, but she watches him extend a hand that that the woman shakes, then moves just enough to listen in.

"The young woman," he tells the manager seriously, "the one at the service counter… you should know in case he complains, but she showed great grace under fire just a little bit ago…”

Sara frowns at the anger at the woman’s face, then realizes it’s not anger at the young employee, but rage on her behalf. Jax has called their target well.

She’s missed the next few moments of conversation, but when she refocuses again, the manager is staring at Snart, holding an envelope with an expression of amazement on her face.

“Sir, this is too much…”

He shakes his head at her though, gesturing to the envelope. “Please,” Sara hears him say smoothly, “let me make someone's day. In memory of my own mother.”

The manager looks at him another moment...and then smiles. "Yes, sir," she says. "And may I say 'thank you' for doing so. She's a good worker and, well, she's had a hard time of it. Everyone needs a little hope from time to time.”

Snart agrees soberly, then nods to her, takes one more glance at the young woman, and—still avoiding video cameras—sees himself out. One by one, his compatriots follow him.

By the time they all meet outside, he’s ditched the jacket and glasses in a charity clothing bin and retrieved his own jacket from wherever he’d hidden it. The smirk, too, is firmly in place.

“Use the money from Asshole’s wallet?” Mick asks him with a mirroring smirk.

“Yep.” He brandishes the item in question. “He should’ve known better than to carry that much cash. Paid for most of our grocery run too. Prick.” He shrugs. “He was driving one of those compensating-for-something gigantic pick-up trucks. Thought about planting something, but he already had coke hidden under the passenger seat.” Distaste crosses his expression. “At any rate, the cops should be picking him up any time now. Sure they’ll be fascinated at his lack of ID.”

Mick laughs. Jax just shakes his head.

"I don't care what anyone says, Snart," he avers solemnly. "You are a hero."

"Bite your tongue, kid." But he smiles a little as Sara goes up on her toes to kiss him, and even Kendra squeezes his arm.

Leonard leaves the wallet, complete with ID and credit cards if minus cash, in the bushes on the way back to the Waverider.

When Rip, Ray, and Stein return, they find their cohorts relaxing in the park near the parked ship, steaks tended by Mick on the grill and accoutrements ready to go. Rip, appeased with the knowledge that no one had been arrested and the fact that they'd bought him a steak, rolls his eyes and breaks out a bottle of whiskey to share.

And a struggling single mom opens a card that night in her tiny apartment, small son sleeping in the next room, finds three $50 gift cards and a message of encouragement—and bursts into tears.

All in all, a good day's work.

Note: The Asshole Incident is based on one that happened to a friend (a single mom working her way through college) back in my own retail days. Little bit of belated wish fulfillment, there. ;)