#mind you i wouldn't give up my flatscreen these days

[kalopsicanna]

last angel in kyoto

is this how it would end?

no.

she wouldn't make a liar out of him.

pt 3!

pt 1 , pt 2

there's an old cartoon playing somewhere, the sound transcending the four walls of whatever room it’s coming from and filtering into Utahime’s bedroom.

it’s probably Gojo.

she rubs at her tired eyes and stretches her limbs after, unintentionally snuggling into the oh-so-warm covers. she could probably just go back to sleep but she knows him too well. knows this is a nervous habit. and she can't just leave him with his thoughts.

so with a resolved sigh, she rises from her bed and carefully pads, barefoot, to the living room.

“Satoru?” she calls when she gets there.

the man only grunts in response, his mop of white hair peeking slightly from underneath the duvet that he's wrapped around him.

he looks like a kid with the glow of the flatscreen illuminating his face.

she softly chuckles at this and joins him on the sofa. he opens up his covering and she fits right in too.

this is warmer than the bed, she decides. he's always warmer.

“are you okay?”

her eyes watch his face as she asks, but his expression betrays nothing.

“it’s all good now” he softly mumbles, head coming to rest on her shoulder.

Gojo could be such a kid when he wants to be.

“getting cold feet?” she questions again, an attempt at a joke (not really), and this time, he shoots up to give her a look.

“cold feet?”

he'd proposed right there in the hospital room, even before they'd had the chance to discharge her. Shoko and Suguru were off somewhere, if she had to guess, he was likely keeping her company while she smoked. she was snacking on a pudding cup from lunch, happy to finally have something sweet (she would only later realize that Gojo was rubbing off on her) when he'd blurted it out, out of the blue.

“i want to marry you. do you?”

he hadn’t even been looking at her, eyes fixed on his fidgety fingers.

“huh?”

there had been no ring. no big speech. he hadn't even gotten down on one knee. it wasn't how she had ever imagined getting proposed to but there was just something about how messy his hair was, how dishevelled his clothes were and how he looked like sleep escaped him.

in all her years of knowing him, Gojo Satoru had been nothing if not calm and collected, even in the face of trouble.

but seeing him then, like he could probably fall over if pushed even just a little, there was this air of vulnerability she knew he didn’t show everybody. or anybody at all.

besides her, that is

to think she'd ever see him be beside himself all because of her.

without a doubt in her mind then, she’d said yes.

Gojo’s almost in disbelief at the question and she doesn't blame him. it‘s a wild assumption anyway considering how much he makes it a point to tell her every day that he loves her.

she thinks he might hold a small grudge against her for saying the three words first.

still, a tiny voice in the back of her mind tells her that it really doesn’t mean much. who’s to say love won’t fail?

“just a thought” she murmurs in response.

they go back to watching the cartoon he’s put on. one of the older episodes of shin-chan.

“you know i love you, right?”

she almost doesn’t hear it. his voice is so low, so gentle that it blends with the show.

he’s looking at her again. this time not in disbelief. no. his eyes are softer too.

“i know”

their locked eyes speak volumes of what their lips can't, an effortless communication that surpasses words.

“you don’t” he simply tells her.

in a swift movement, he uses the remote to turn off the television and swamps them in darkness.

his hands seek hers out and he places one of her open palms on his chest.

“my heart beats like crazy anytime you're near”

indeed, his heart palpitations are a bit erratic, she notes.

“Satoru-”

“i’ve loved you since high school”

the confession quickly shuts her up.

“i was a dumb kid. i didn't know how to get you to notice me so i just stuck to teasing you to get your attention. it made me happy, when you would look at me with those pretty eyes for all those five seconds you would yell, even if they were filled with rage. at least, you looked at me”

he pauses to let out a short laugh at the memory of the antics of his younger self.

“seeing you that night on that cold floor, covered in blood, scared me. terrified me. it’s been three months and i still can't stop thinking about it. just the idea of you being gone is daunting. i know i don't want to do this life without you, Hime”

it sure is a miracle that he can't see her. can't see how the tears are pouring rapidly down her face.

who would've thought that she would have, by some twist of fate, Gojo Satoru, the same junior who made fun of her pigtails and had made it his mission to annoy her daily, here in her living room, professing his love for her?

“Satoru…”

her voice gives her away and he cups her cheek almost immediately, making quick work of wiping at her tears.

“so you see” there's a slight pep in his voice now. “i can't possibly get cold feet. not when i’ve loved you so for all these years”

she wants to say it back. she really does. but an ‘i love you’ simply won't do. not after all he's said. it sounds too cheap and it’s not enough to quantify all she feels in her heart.

so she hugs him.

she doesn't need to say anything. he understands.

the wedding is a month after that. a small gathering of friends and family, loved ones who wish nothing but the absolute best for the couple.

their friends all have smiles on their faces and Gojo can swear that he sees Shoko and Geto sneak off together right after the ceremony. he decides to keep their rendezvous to himself.

that doesn't mean much though because it’s proven, once again, at the reception that a drunk man has no secrets.

they're dating. his two best friends.

Shoko and Geto.

the news only makes him happier.

and then finally, when he and Utahime share their first dance as a married couple, she leans in and tells him a secret that she too has kept for a long time.

“i was the one who ate the watermelon gummies”

for the first time since the incident, Gojo throws his head back and laughs.

[tu-naranja]

The Teacher Next Door - A Miss Circle x Miss Bloomie Fancfic

Chapter 3 - Substitute From Hell

"Sooooo~ how was you're first week of uni?!"

"..."

"What's wrong?"

"..."

"Tough week huh?"

"..."

"Did something happen?"

"Answer me!"

.

.

.

When I woke up, I was throwing up and had a skull crushing headache. I was in no shape to go to work today. "Fuck you Thavel..."

So, I called Grace and told her what had happen and that I wouldn't be able to make it today. I could hear the annoyance in her voice over the phone but she let it slide and told me to get better soon.

I took some painkillers for my headache and laid in bed watching YouTube videos from my T.V. .

I wonder who's going to take my place whilst I'm absent today.

.

.

.

MISS CIRCLE'S P.O.V.

"Okay class, Miss Bloomie isn't here due to unfortunate circumstances which means that I'll be your substitute teacher for today." After I announced that the class burst into cheer and chattering. It was funny seeing them think they'll get a free period but they probably forgot... I'm the Math teacher and nobody dears to be happy in any classroom I step foot in.

"Class!" I yelled, hitting my ruler against the desk gathering everyone's attention.

"Because Miss B isn't here doesn't mean you don't get work," I grinned as everyone's smiles slowly faded away. "Matter of fact, just for thinking you wouldn't get any work, pop quizzes for everyone!" Everyone sighed.

I grinned joyfully taking the stack of quiz papers from the desk and plopping it down on one of the student's desk that sat at the front of the class.

"Take one and pass it on," I instructed them," once you get your papers you may begin, you have 45 minutes." After that I went back to my seat and watched as the class worked.

Hmm being a substitute teacher isn't bad after all. All I gotta do is just give out work. I should do this more.

The thought of last night lingered through my mind. Whoever that was it definitely wasn't Bloomie. She's so modest and acts like an old lady sometimes. Seeing her show up dressed like that,I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I had to stare as long as possible because it might be the only time I see her like that.

But what caught me off guard was when she said "I'm sorry."

Thavel probably taught her a new word because I've never heard Bloomie say 'sorry' before.

But did she apologize for last night or-?...

BLOOMIE'S P.O.V.

I was in bed watching movies on Netflix when I heard noises coming from the front door. "Bloomie~" I heard Thavel's voice called. The clicking of her heels rang out throughout my apartment as she looked for me.

"I'm in my room!" I exclaimed. The clicking of her heels got louder then came to a hault at the front of the room.  The door slowly creeked open and out popped Thavel.

"How are you feeling?" She asked sitting on the bed.

"Terrible," I mumbled, " but I feel much better than how I felt this morning."

"That's good to here, I came to check up on you, make sure you're okay,"she said laying beside me on the bed to watch the movie with me.

"Did you take my place today?" I asked as we both stared at the flatscreen T.V. that hung from the wall.

"No," she answered, "Circle held down the forth while you were gone and a little birdie told me she did a pretty great job, I heard she gave a pop quiz on the second day of school."

I snickered to myself knowing that my class didn't get a chance to slack off, "that's good to hear, I'll make sure to thank her for it."

Thavel smirked," you should also thank her for last night, when you passed out she helped me carry your unconscious, heavy ass back to your apartment."

"What!" I blurted out. I thought that was a dream. A really weird dream. I couldn't remember much, everything was blurry with different sounds flooding my ears. I felt sick and couldn't move until I was picked up by someone. The person I saw was...Circle, she looked into my eyes and held me close, so I wrapped my arm around her neck, wondering where she could carry me off to. " I will thank her for that and taking care of my classes."

"I'm so lucky I found her, you were so heavy," Thavel whined, " Ya know, come to think of it, how does a speck of dust as yourself weigh like a ton."

.

.

.

"I finally decided what I want to be now..."

"Tell me, what is it?"

"I want to be a high-school math teacher."

"Ooo! We can work at the same school!"

"Promise, that when we become teachers we'd work at the same school?"

"I promise...".

[fuckyeahhiccuphaddock]

My Boy (Don't Love Me Like He Promised) - HTTYD - DagCup - Chapter One

TITLE: My Boy (Don't Love Me Like He Promised)

CHAPTER #: one.

MODERN AU: ON ✔

DESCRIPTION: years after being rejected by Hiccup Haddock in highschool, Dagur finds himself late at night at the now twenty year old's house, roughened up after an alleyway beating.

TAGS: some mild angst, longfic, not a oneshot, dagcup (hiccupxdagur), httyd, how to train your dragon.

GENRE: fanfiction

LANGUAGE: English

COPYRIGHT: characters do not belong to me. all rights reserved © to dreamworks and cressida cowell. plot is all rights reserved © "fuckyeahhiccuphaddock" 2019.

MATURE RATING: ON ✔ contains mature themes, such as strong language, sexuality, mild descriptions of violence, and other themes.

NOTE: this fanfiction will also be availiable on the Wattpad platform! the version on Wattpad has many more visuals and has a more aesthetically pleasing visual, so if you want to check that out here is the link, along with the link to my accounts which also have HTTYD content for you to read:

FIND THIS FANFIC:

FIND MY MAIN HTTYD ACCOUNT:

FIND MY SECOND HTTYD ACCOUNT:

2ND NOTE: this story is not beta read.

████████████

his breaths were ragged, and his chest moved with each one he took. puffs of white circled the air, disappearing in seconds. his foot nudged something heavy, one of the bodies that laid by his feet. not bodies, per say, considering these people weren't dead, but merely unconscious. he would have found the sight endearing and sadistically satisfying if it weren't for the fact he was practically a wet dog and the blood of his wounds was seeping through his clothes.

with an irritated grunt, he pulled his jacket off himself, holding it above his head. it made him even colder, but he wouldn't be able to focus on where to go if the rain kept beating down on him. the streets were beginning to flood. now was not a good time to be out. there was a gash on his right eyebrow, he knew that for sure. and a cut on his left thigh, left there perfunctorily by one of the men who decided to jump him. he was sure he had a couple of bruises on his torso as well.

now, it wasn't that dagur was weak -- because he sure as hell wasn't, but there had been a lot of people who decided to catch him by surprise. he fought them off, of course, but not without a couple of marks himself. he began walking, footsteps making the water splash below, and his eyes landed on the sight of a bus stop. there were two benches, accompanied by a roof and thin, hole poked walls on each side, but it'd have to do for now, at least until he found out where the hell he was.

he clawed for his phone that was deep in his pocket, tried turning it on, hoping miraculously, it would work despite it being completely drenched. the screen only remained black, and dagur couldn't help but growl -- stupid fucking 20$ phones. he shoved it back into his pocket.

he stood back up again, running a hand through his untamed hair. a kid had once ran up to him and told him he resembled hercules, from the disney movie. dagur himself didn't really see the similarity, but hey, kids had wild imaginations, and he didn't really want to put that to a halt. he started walking again, hands holding up his jacket.

it seemed like he'd walked for miles before he found a street sign. he had to squint through the rain to see it before reading it -- Escobar, is what it said. why had that sounded familiar?

despite not knowing why it held such an influence on him, he took the turn and went down the street. by the look of these houses, he was in the suburbs, with nicely trimmed grass and cleared sidewalks. he was sure it'd look a lot better one the sky cleared up, and it wasn't raining.

he was beginning to know where he was. yeah, he knew what this place was. wasn't associated personally, but hell if he didn't know it. he'd visited a few times, and at this point he knew the way back to his shitty, run-down apartment, but he hadn't seen hiccup haddock in what had been literal years. he didn't know what time it was, knew it was late and likely that hiccup wasn't going to answer the door, but at this point dagur didn't think there was much that mattered in his life, other than gambling, the occasional drink and the brooding in late night hours.

he let out a breath that he didn't realize he had been holding, and it made a white puff of air. he dragged his feet towards the light grey, almost bluish porch. he took a step up one of the stairs and knew he'd leave a muddy footprint, but it wasn't anything he couldn't clean after. really, there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for hiccup haddock; even though the guy had broken his heart without knowing how much it hurt. it was in the past, but the memory was still so fresh in his mind; like popping a mint into your mouth. overpowering and sensual.

before he knew it he was at the door. it was a pale white, and he distantly heard the sound of a windchime. dagur lifted a calloused hand, curled it into a fist and had about to knock. there was something stopping him but he couldn't place what.

he'd knocked anyways, and standing there left him feeling both exhausted and anxious. weariness was started to settle on him, and his wounds were beginning to hurt now that his adrenaline had died down completely. upon his first knock there was no sound; no shuffling footprints, just silence.

"come on, hiccup," he whispered, giving another, stronger knock. "open up. please."

minutes passed and he had been about to leave; but the there was a thud from inside the house. dagur froze in his tracks, and he swore he saw the blinds of the windows twitched. after that, there was another, long pause of silence.

there was the sound of a lock, and dagur almost let go a sigh of relief. he hoped hiccup still lived here, and that he wasn't knocking on a stranger's house -- but then he decided that idea was a stupid one. if it was a stranger, the door wouldn't have opened at all.

hiccup looked different from highschool, dagur realized instantly. the scrawny, curled in on himself kid didn't look like that at all. hiccup's posture was open; confident than it had been before. he was slouching slightly, but dagur simply guessed it was because he was drowsy with sleep; and he was correct. hiccup's head was messy, tiny hairs sticking in every direction, and bags under his eyes that wouldn't be noticeable if you really looked. although he had just woken from sleeping, he still had his day clothes on; a black long sleeve and rumpled jeans adorning his body. a digital watch accompanied his left wrist; it was a sight to behold after years of not seeing him.

"dagur?" hiccup questioned, and god, it was so good to hear his voice after so long, so good to see him after such a long period of time. hiccup may have rejected him back in highschool, but dagur would be lying if he said hiccup haddock didn't have a specific, (albeit cliché) place in his heart. he couldn't help but stare. "what are you doing here? actually, what happened to your head?"

and too soon for his taste, dagur was snapping out of his thoughts. he gave a low chuckle from within his chest, rubbing the back of his neck. "it's a long story," he admitted quietly, glancing into emerald eyes. "could i come inside, please?"

hiccup shifted, giving a sigh and stuffing the hand that wasn't holding the door into his pocket. "dagur, i don't really think that's a good idea-"

"please," he responded, cutting hiccup off. "i'll be out of your hair by morning, hiccup... i'm freezing and my head hurts." saying that he would be gone so soon made his chest ache in protest.

hiccup squinted at him, silent for a good long moment before nodding slowly. "alright, dagur. just put your shoes there on the porch. don't want my floor covered with mud," he said, leaving the door open and retreating within the depth of his home.

without hesitation, dagur did as the other said. he toed his shoes off, and his socks, considering everything below his ankles was drenched. he left his jacket outside, too, letting it hang over the light besides the door before following hiccup inside, letting the door shut behind himself with a quiet thud.

he wasn't given any time to really look around the room before there was something soft being pressed into his hands. his green eyes flickered downwards, and in his palms was a soft, grey blanket.

"I'll get you some clothes," hiccup said. he'd been about to turn away before dagur spoke again.

"your clothes aren't going to fit me, hiccup."

"I wouldn't have guessed," the other said sarcastically, and dagur had been slightly relieved that his humour hadn't gone anywhere. he almost cracked a smile. "but you're cold. I'll get them for you anyways."

and like that, hiccup was gone. dagur didn't realize how tightly his fist had curled around the blanket, not until he found his hand loosening and a soreness in his knuckles. with a quiet sigh, he turned away as well and let his eyes scan the rest of the room.

the walls were a light grey, and it would have looked depressing if there weren't any sort of pictures hung up on them. upon entering the house, dagur's feet were met with warm, cream coloured carpet. to his left was a dark grey couch, and a transparent, glass coffee table in the middle. right across from it was a flatscreen TV; and dagur was just realizing how luxurious the house really was.

there was a fireplace, too. it wasn't lit, but it was there. on top of the fireplace was a brown shelf, holding two pictures on either side and in the center a little bowl filled with fake leaves, likely just for decor. dagur let himself draw closer to the pictures, and picked up the nearest one.

it was hiccup, but younger. hiccup in high school, he realized. but it wasn't just him, no, there was someone else in the picture. a blonde girl, and she looked all too familiar, and dagur knew who she was instantly. how could he not? this was the same girl who stole hiccup's heart as his own was shattered.

Astrid Hofferson. she looked the same as he remembered. both her arms were wrapped around his neck, eyes fluttered closed and a happy smile on her face as she was kissing hiccup's cheek. his heart sank into his own chest, and dagur hated the feeling.

hiccup was there, smiling with joy. he looked like he was laughing, if anything. behind them was what seemed to be a Ferris wheel, and dagur guessed that they were on a date at the carnival. his grip tightened on the frame of the picture, and he set it back into its original place before he broke it out of anger.

it should've been him in that photo. not Astrid.

slight guilt overcame him with that thought. it shouldn't have mattered who hiccup was with; as long as he was happy. and dagur told himself that too many times to count, yet he couldn't help the raw, sheer rage that came along with the thought of hiccup being with anyone other than him. it made him angry, and ridiculously so. he'd watched them too many times have fun together, while he was stuck on the sidelines, wondering why the hell hiccup had chosen her instead of him.

although, the picture made him distantly wonder where she was now. had they stayed together after highschool? was she just merely upstairs, asleep in hiccup's bed?

with a shaky exhale through his nose, dagur took a step back before he really grew unstable. he looked at another photo, and this time it was of hiccup and his father at graduation. stoick wore a fond smile, and he radiated how proud he was, even though it was just a photo. hiccup wore a black cap and gown, holding his certificates. the sight made dagur crack a tiny smile. he hadn't been there for the ceremony, but surprisingly, he had graudated.

"those are old memories," hiccup said from behind. dagur turned, still holding onto the blanket he was given. "here." he stuck out a fresh pair of clean clothes and dagur took them gratefully.

"thanks," dagur muttered in return, tossing the blanket over his shoulder, biting back his tongue so he wouldn't ask what had happened to astrid. "where's your restroom?"

hiccup gestured upstairs, rubbing one of his eyes. "first door to your right. when you're done, come back down here and i'll uh. tend your injuries."

"sure," dagur responded, despite his need to ask questions, but he could ask those once he wasn't a wet dog anymore. there was an awkward pause of silence before dagur turned and headed upstairs.

the carpet became wood once he was up. dagur had found the restroom wth ease, but there was just something naghing at him -- he wanted desperately to check.

he let the clothes and the blanket rest on the counter of the restroom, and he took a step to the door at the end of the hall, which was creaked open just slightly.

dagur peaked through the crack, opening the door just slightly more, giving himself a better view. it was hiccup's room, for sure -- and he glanced towards the bed, nearly shouting in relief when there was no other body in it.

there was a movement from the corner of his eye, but before he'd been given the chance to move, there was a large, black blob that was heading straight for him, all speed and power.

dagur shouted once the thing hit his face, his hands reaching up to grab at it. the thing let out a loud, screeching "yowl!", and there was a sudden, sharp pain at his eye.

he heard footsteps racing up the stairs, and at this point he had ran into something -- probably a desk, he couldn't see a damn thing -- and then there was hiccup's voice coming from into the room, "toothless!" hands were on top of dagur's own, and the black mass was wrenched away from his face, followed by a hiss sound.

dagur was too preocupied with the pain on his face to really pay attention. he raced out the room and back towards the restroom, fastily turning the light on, muttering strings of curses before he finally looked up at the mirror, letting his hand fall from his face.

his expression dropped at the sight. three claw marks were at his eye, diagnol and bleeding red. his jaw clenched at the pain, bringing his hand up and giving it a gentle touch before letting out a low growl. fuck, it stung, and he wanted to know what in the hell had done it. his face was fucked for life -- that much he was certain of.

"dagur? dagur, are you okay?" hiccup's voice drew near, and his teeth began to ache from how hard he set his jaw. he noticed hiccup standing at the doorway thanks to the mirror, and he turned abruptly to face the other, almost as if saying, ' do i LOOK okay? '

"o-oh gods. your eye!" hiccup shouted, and dagur couldn't help the snarl leave from his throat. his gaze drifted down and his (good) eye narrowed, pointing at the black mass hiccup currently held in his hands.

"what. the hell," dagur started, "is that?" he said, voice dripping of venom. suddenly the mass shifted and there were green eyes and dialated black pupils staring ferociously straight at him, and then he knew what it was -- a cat. a damn cat. hiccup had a fucking guard cat in his room!

"first of all, it is a he," hiccup said return, and dagur's (good) eye twitched irkingly. "and his name's toothless."

"well, excuse me," dagur said, glaring at the animal hiccup craddled as it if were a stuffed animal, "that i am so rude, even though he scratched my face!"

"you were tresspasing," hiccup said, like it provided any justification. "you were in my room, weren't you? or trying to peak inside, at least?"

"you're saying i deserve this?!"

"i wouldn't go that far."

at those words, dagur made a highly frustrated noise. "okay, you know what? fine! i'm going to change, and then you are going to tend to this," dagur gestured to his face, and to the rest of his wounds. after that, he didn't give hiccup a time to respond, shutting the door promptly in the cat's face.

it was going to be a hell of a night.

[ranger-of-estel]

I have another prompt for you, my Ranger of Hope! Alas, it probably wouldn't make a good drabble (so you'll just have to make it longer...oh damn! 😉). I was Hmmm....I'm thinking Captain Canary, pre-relationship- Sara & Mick on a mission where their cover is they're fake dating or fake married and jealous Len is monitoring their situation closely (for the mission!) & is surly about it, which amuses Mick and prompts him to purosely aggravate Len so he'll confess his feelings to Sara

Okay so I FINALLY got my butt in gear and finished this one. It’s not exactly what you’ve outlined…but I think it keeps the spirit of the prompt. This is Chap 1 of 4, and can also be read on AO3

This is also my entry into the @leonardsnartbigbang event.

Make the plan

               “Idon’t like this,” Leonard drawls, following Sara as she makes a turn down ahall to their left.

               “Soyou’ve said,” Sara glances back at him and Mick, “but you have to admit, we arethe best ones for the job.”

               He humshis agreement, his partner shrugging beside him. “I don’t know, a mission whereI get to fight ain’t so bad.”

               Sarachuckles, “At least one of us will have a good time.” She motions down anotherhall, “Meet you at the jumpship in twenty?”

               Leonardnods, and the three split to their separate rooms to pack and prepare for themission. He packs lightly: jeans, several layers of shirts, and a pistol thatcan easily be concealed on his person. He also has Gideon print blueprints ofthe arena and nearby hotels as well as fake I.D.s for all three of them.

               Hearrives at the jumpship first, though Sara follows close behind, key in hand.“You have any idea how to fly this thing?”

               Hesmirks, “I may have had the kid show me the basics.”

               “Good,”she tosses him the key just as Mick joins them.

               “Youtwo ready to get off this tin can?” he asks, tossing his bag through the doorbefore they begin to file onboard.

               “I’mready for some fresh air, maybe a real cup of coffee.” Sara states from behindas Leonard settles into the Captain chair. “Some actual sunshine wouldn’t hurteither.”

               “Icould use a beer, and nice greasy cheeseburger.” Mick agrees from the otherside of the ship.

               “Whatabout you Len?” Sara asks as he pilots them into the timestream.

               “I’lljust be glad for some peace and quiet,” he replies, they both make sounds ofagreement before continuing their conversation. He parks the jumpship farenough out not to be accidentally discovered, but close enough that it’s withinwalking distance of the city itself.

               “Beforewe leave,” Len fishes out the I.D.s he’d had printed, “we’ll likely needthese.”

               Sara chuckles,pulling out a small wallet. “Great minds?”

               Hesmirks, “So it would appear.” He hands Mick his card, tucking Sara’s back intothe luggage. From there they make their way onto the crowded street. “There’s ahotel about four blocks up.” Len motions to one of the towering buildingsahead.

               Saranods, shifting so that she’s just a step behind him. “How far from the arena?”

               Heshrugs, “Twenty-minute taxi ride, depending on traffic.”

               Theywalk in relative silence, Leonard weaving between people with a practiced ease,noting Sara does the same. An ability Mick has never needed, as peoplenaturally part when his partner approaches. Soon Sara is making her way to theconcierge desk while he and Mick stack what little luggage they have onto acart.

               Sarareturns, grinning more like a cat than a canary. “Let’s go get settled in.” Lenraises a brow, but motions for her to lead. They ride the elevator up to thetop floor, and she offers a sideways grin as they step out. A swift swipe ofthe room key and they are stepping into a lounge area of what Len assumes is apresidential suite.

               Windowsline the far wall, offering an impressive view of the skyline. Several couches,with coffee tables and more pillows than one could ever need. He can see atleast one large bed through a door at the far end, and a kitchen, including abar, on the left. Everything is in wood or a beige, and he doesn’t want to knowwhat Sara paid for the key in her hand.

               “Thisis a pretty sweet pad, Blondie,” Mick looks over at her, tossing his bag ontoone of the couches.

               Sarajust shrugs, “The only instructions from Rip were to stay in a hotel, andGideon was kind enough to cover whatever spending may be required.” She handedthem each a room key. “Only problem is that there are only two beds.” Shemotions to the room Len had seen, then shrugs. “Figure someone can take a coucheach night.”

               Lencan’t help but smirk, “You’ve got good taste.” He drawls, grabbing his ownsuitcase to investigate the bedroom.

               “I’llsay!” Mick chimes in, moving toward the kitchen. “Look at this bar!” He grinsat Sara, “Let me see that card, I’m ordering room service for dinner.”

               Saralaughs, tossing the credit card at Mick, then turns back to Len. She motionstoward the other end of the room. “They said there’s an office space attached.”She shrugs, “Somewhere to look over the plans I’m sure you’ve brought.” Hereyes sparkle, an almost smile on her lips. “Get your peace and quiet for abit.”

               He’snot sure what to make of that, if he’s honest. So he just smirks, “Thoughtful,Assassin.”

               “I dotry.” And then she’s disappearing into the attached room.

               Once hisbag is put away he goes to investigate the study, and is pleasantly surprised.It’s a spacious room, with a massive desk and surrounded by more windows. Hesettles into the expensive rolling chair, blueprints spread across the surfaceas he becomes absorbed into the work.

               Hisattention is drawn by a sharp knock on the door; looking up he finds Sara smilingat him. “Hungry?” she motions toward the kitchen with her head, “Mick orderedpretty much everything the kitchen has to offer.”

               “Ourdear Captain is not likely to let us out again,” he drawls, shaking his head.

               Sarashrugs. “All the more reason to enjoy it now.” She holds out a hand. “Come on,Crook. Time to share your plan with the rest of us.”

               Hepushes back from the desk, rising to follow her back into the gathering space.She’s right about Mick ordering the whole menu, plates and trays taking upevery inch of the table and ottoman. Leonard is relatively sure he’s pulledheists worth less than this meal cost. “So,” Sara draws his attention once moreas she settles onto one of the couches. “What’s the plan?”

               “Well,”he drawls, settling into a recliner opposite her, which put Mick on the couchbetween them. “Until we can get eyes on the exact location of the target I canonly make a rough strategy.” He motions out the expansive windows, “But we doneed a cover to get in.” He grabs several of the finger foods spread beforehim. “I can get in as a sponsor.”

               “Trainerwould be easier,” Sara interjects, gaining a raised brow. “Investors are justthere to see the show, but a trainer is going to have more access.”

               “I’maware, and was thinking you are a better fit for the role,” he replies, headtilting in question. “So how do you expect to get yourself in?”

               Shegives a shrug, popping a bite of sushi into her mouth. “Romantic partner.”

               Lenknows his eyes widen some; Mick just chuckles as Leonard watches herquestioning. “Are you sure?”

               She justsmirks back at him. “I’ve been Rip’s partner twice.” She makes a point ofshifting closer to Mick, flashing him a sultry grin. “I think I can handle datinga rogue for a few days.”

               “Good, nowthat’s all settled.” Mick grabs a remote for the large flatscreen mounted tothe wall, arm settling over Sara’s shoulders. “I say we call it a night andfinish plannin’ in the morning.”

               Saraand Len share a quick glance, both shrugging before settling back into theirseats as Mick picks some kind of action thriller. They fall into acompanionable silence aside from the occasional critique thrown toward thescreen.

               As themovie comes to a close, Sara looks between the boys. “Okay, so who’s taking thecouch first?”

               Leonardfrowns. “Both beds are queens.”

               Saralooks at him, an amused tilt to her lips. “Are you suggesting we double up?”

               Hesighs. “I’m suggesting that we are more likely to assume someone has broken inif one of us is moving around this space at night.”

               Micklooks between them. “Fine, but I ain’t sharing.”

               Saracatches Len’s gaze, head tilting in question. It’s not like they haven’t sleptin the same bed before: she’s turned up at his door on the ship afternightmares; he’s dozed off after a cards in her room. “We could make it work,”Sara offers a mock glare, “Just don’t try anything funny.”

               Hesmirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Assassin.”

               “Alrightthen.” She rises, hands pulled over her head in a stretch. “I’m going to goenjoy that jacuzzi tub before turning in.” She smiles between them. “You boyshave fun.” She pats Mick on the shoulder and then disappears into the bedroom.

               “Smoothone, boss.” A smirk is playing at Mick’s lips.

               Leonardlooks at his partner. “What are you talking about?”

               Mickrolls his eyes. “Suggesting sharing a bed.”

               “Ididn’t. You did.” Len settles back into the chair, taking a drink of his beer.

               “Comeon, Snart. You’ve had your eyes on Sara since that bar fight months ago.”  Mick’s arms cross. “In fact ‘m surprised youdidn’t try getting ‘er to play your partnerin this job.”

               Thistime, it’s Leonard who scoffs. “I respect her and find her presence moretolerable than the other hero types on the ship.”

               Mickjust gives a slow, disbelieving nod. “Whatever you say, boss.” From there, Mickturns on another action flick, and Leonard returns to the office to try andiron out a more solid plan. By the time he enters the bedroom, the others areboth in bed. Mick is spread across most of his bed, snoring like a log. Sara onthe other hand is curled on the far side of the second bed, her blonde hairabout the only thing that can be seen above the covers.

               Leonardchanges into shorts and undershirt, slipping soundlessly beneath the sheets onthe other side of the bed. Sara stirs slightly, but does not appear to fullywake. They are positioned with their backs to one another, leaving Len facinghis partner’s bed and closer to the door. Like everything else about the room,the beds are impressive, and it takes very little time for him to drift off.

~~~

               WhenLeonard wakes up the next morning, it’s to a small stream of sunlight that hassnuck between the curtains. Instantly he notes Sara is no longer occupying theother side of the bed, while he can still hear Mick’s snores behind him. Herises, quickly dressing and slipping out of the bedroom.

               Thegathering space is empty, but the door to the balcony has been propped open. Ashe approaches the door, he can see Sara where she’s standing near the railing.She’s still wearing the form fitting tank and shorts that she’d slept in, hairpulled in a ponytail to keep the wind from blowing in into her face. She’sworking through one of the routines she’d learned at the League: a slightvariation to the one he’s watched her go through in the cargo bay of theWaverider.

               Asalways, he’s caught by the deadly grace of her movements, eyes following hertoned arms and back as the muscles beneath shift with each movement. He leansagainst the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he watches her. Shemakes eye contact briefly, an amused smile at her lips before her focus returnsto her next move.

               As sheslides out of the last move, her attention shifts back to him as she saunterstoward the door. “See something you like, Leonard?”

               “Justappreciating the show.” He smirks down at her. “After all, not many get to seeLeague training in action and live to tell.”

               “Mhm,I’m sure that was it.” The amused look is back as she brushes past him,grabbing a water bottle which she proceeds to down the contents of.  He follows her into the kitchen, where shehits the power button on the fancy coffee maker, then proceeds to open cabinetsuntil she locates the mugs. “Coffee, Crook?”

               “Sure.”He nods, checking his hip against one of the counters.

               “Mickstill out?” she asks, gaining another short nod. “Can’t say I blame him, thebeds are pretty amazing.”

               “Youslept well then?” he inquires, head tilting slightly.

               “Very,you?” she replies, mirroring his posture against the other counter.

               “I did,”he motions toward the office space, “and I owe you thanks for study. I got alot of preparations complete last night.”

               Shegrins. “Well, you did say you wanted some peace and quiet.” She turns to placethe small plastic packages into the coffee maker, filling both mugs beforeholding one out to him.  He accepts,moving to find some sugar and cream while she drinks hers black. “Care to walkme through things while our star gets his beauty sleep?”

               Hechuckles, motioning toward the study. “This way, Assassin.”

               Soonthey are settled on opposite sides of the desk, pouring over the blueprints andother notes Leonard had gotten about the building and event. “So,” Sara leansback in her chair, “we get in, get Mick in the ring, then what?”

               “If I’mhis trainer, I’ll have to stay ring side, but you,” he looks at her, “you’ll beable to move around in the back rooms without drawing suspicion.”

               Shenods. “Alright. So I go find our weapon, straight forward enough.” She giveshim an amused look. “Think you can keep Mick from wiping the floor with the guywho’s supposed to win this?”

               Leonardsmirks back at her, setting his now empty mug on the desk. “I have a plan inplace for that as well.” They hear a door close, then heavy footfalls in theother room. “Speaking of,”

               “Boss?”Mick’s voice is gruff with sleep as he calls through the suite.

               “In thestudy,” Sara calls, followed by downing the rest of her coffee.

               Mickcomes in, looking curiously between the two before shrugging to himself. “Isthere breakfast somewhere?”

               Saralaughs, distracting Len from his own quip on the topic. “Hotel has acomplementary breakfast downstairs.”

               “Good.”He turns and takes several steps before looking back at them. “You two comin’or not?”

               Lenshares a quick look with Sara, she shrugs. “Breakfast sounds good.” She motionstoward the bedroom. “Just give me a minute to change.”

               Bothmen nod, and as she exits the office space, Mick takes her place. “You twolooked cozy.”

               Leonardrolls his eyes. “Just walking through the plans, Mick.”

~~

               WhenSara returns, the trio makes their way downstairs; as promised there is a roomwith rows of steaming containers filled with breakfast staples. By the timethey finish, Leonard is pretty sure the hotel staff is going to ban Mick from gettinganywhere near the bacon if they return.

               Laterthat day Mick and Leonard go to get him officially signed up for thecompetition, while Sara takes to the roof to survey the area in more detail.Both tasks go smoothly, and soon, they are exploring the city before returningto the hotel for pizza and a card game that cuts late into the night. The easypart of their mission is over, now the challenge begins.