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zaritarazi · 8 years

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idle souls

aka i finally am actually writing the archeologist!hawks au. -- READ IT ON AO3. chapter 1: in which we meet dr. hall, and he is a very charming douchebag

It’s drizzling when she pulls up to the hotel, which is kind of weird and kind of unexpected and kind of dangerous, if it really starts to rain. Already, she knows the site is going to have shifted by tomorrow, and she’s already rethinking where they’re going to start. “Weird,” she remarks, mostly to herself. “It never rains in Cairo.”

“It’ll let up,” the driver tells her. “It’s not too much, anyway.”

“No,” Kendra says, adjusting her bag on her lap. “I- Yeah. It’s silly to complain, really. I’m just- Thinking. Sorry.”

“Here for vacation?” the driver asks. “You’ll still be able to see the pyramids tomorrow. A little drizzle won’t change that.”

“Oh,” Kendra says. “I wish I could just- Vacation. You know? But I’m- I’m working, actually. Around that area.”

“Don’t work too hard,” he says. “It’s a beautiful city. You don’t want to waste being here, you know?”

“Don’t worry,” Kendra says. “I love my job. I’ll have a great time.”

She can feel the driver grinning at her, from the way his eyes crinkle in the rearview mirror. “Have a drink, yeah?” he says. “Relax. You’re still on vacation.”

“Well,” Kendra says, spirits slightly lifted. “I suppose having a nightcap wouldn’t hurt.”

He nods at her as she hands him the fare, clicking open the door and hopping out of the car.

“Trunk, please,” she asks.

No sooner has the trunk popped open then someone calls, in a sort of smooth, masculine voice, “Dr. Saunders.”

She gives the driver one last look. “Thank you,” she says. “For the ride. And the advice.”

He shrugs.

She knows the feeling.

“Dr. Saunders,” the man repeats, and Kendra smooths her hair before rising to her full height.

She moves to the back of the cab. “Just a moment,” she calls back, not even sure who she’s talking to. “I just have to get-“

And there’s a man in her space. “Can I help you with your bag?”

Kendra takes a step back, pulling back her hand from where he had almost brushed it. “Dr. Hall,” she says. “You’re early.”

“So are you,” he says, easily hefting her suitcase out of the trunk. “Glad you recognize me.”

“Well,” she says. “You recognized me, so-“

“Your photo is on your department’s website,” he says, slamming the trunk shut. “Sorry. Am I being too- I thought you could use a hand.”

Kendra gives him a sort of tight lipped not-smile, taking her bag’s handle from him and rolling it towards the hotel. “I’m fine,” she tells him. “Really. Thanks.”

“Did you have a nice flight?” he asks.

“Great,” she says, the wheels of her suitcase clicking over pavement. “Long.”

He pauses, like he expects her to ask about his flight, in return.

She doesn’t.

“You look,” he continues to walk beside her, even through the automatic doors. “Well. Your photo on the website- Is that a different haircut? You just look-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says, the way she would address a small child or dog or maybe a very persistent bee. “Do you spend a lot of time looking at my department photo?”

When she finally looks at him, hoping to glare him down, he grins back at her. “No more than usual, I think,” he says. “It links to your papers.”

“Ah,” she says.

“I was actually hoping-“

She holds up her hand. “Kendra Saunders,” she tells the front desk. She’s returned to pointedly not-looking at him, if only in the hopes that this will remove some of the surreality of her current predicament. She’s been dreading meeting him since the moment she found out he’d be on this dig, pretty-boy Carter Hall with his tenacity and his disregard for anything like reasonable context and his offensively well-lit department photo.

And here he is. Not giving her a minute of peace. She didn’t even get to decide how she’d wanted to meet him, or put some lipstick on.

He’d just. Shown up. So already, she really feels like she’s going to hate him just as much as she’d expected to.

And there’s satisfaction in that. She does like being right.

She takes the room key from the front desk, slipping it into her pocket.

“Dr. Saunders,” Carter says, still leaning on the desk, waiting for her. “I was going to say, I’d really like if we could- Get drinks, discuss your latest paper? You made this one point on page three, and-“

Kendra balks at him. She doesn’t really mean to, but it’s just- The sheer audacity of it, out of absolutely nowhere, like she has nothing better to do then let him mansplain her paper to her, like he does in all of his little critiques that she definitely doesn’t read at 3AM, full of rage, and he’s still just standing there, looking at her. For fucks sake.

“Dr. Hall,” she says, carefully. “I just arrived. I would like to shower, and change.”

“And then we could meet at the bar,” he says. “I’m not sure if you drink Egyptian beer but let me tell you, it’s-“

“Wait,” Kendra says, the gears in her head screeching from immediate and dire overuse. “I’m sorry. Do you want to discuss my paper or do you want to have drinks with me?”

“Both,” he says.

“You just met me,” she says.

“Oh, I know,” he tells her. “Believe me, I have been waiting to meet you for months now. Ever since we got put on this site together, I’ve really been scouring your work, I think we have a lot to talk about and-“

“Ma’am,” the desk clerk tells her. “There are people behind you.”

Kendra gives her a sheepish sort of look before gently rolling her suitcase away from the front desk and towards the elevator, Dr. Hall still clipping at her side. “So you want me to listen to you explain my papers to me. Right?”

“What?” he says. “No. Of course not. I was actually hoping you could elaborate on a couple of points for me, especially when you spoke out against the idea of my recent find being a fertility idol-“

Kendra lets out a huff. “One hour,” she says. “I will meet you at the hotel bar in one hour. Bring your cliffnotes. I’ll bring mine. Okay?”

He beams at her, and for just a split second, she almost kind of likes how he smiles. “Of course. What’s your room?”

She checks her key. “1404.”

“I’m 1304,” he says. “Right below you. If you need anything.”

“I won’t,” she promises, trying to at least smile when she says it.

“Well,” he says. “You never know.”

“Right,” she says, letting herself into the elevator. “You coming?”

“No, no,” he says. “I’m going to go grab a couple things. Are you familiar with the city?”

“Not really,” Kendra says.

“Perhaps I could show you around?” he offers.

She slams her thumb against “14” and looks up at him. “We’re here for work, Dr. Hall.”

He’s going to say something, but the elevator doors ding shut, and Kendra has never been more grateful for anything in her life.

It’s only when she reaches the fourteenth floor that she realizes Dr. Hall has just asked her on a date.

“Oh, God no,” Kendra says to herself, under her breath. She lets herself into her room, letting her suitcase fall to the wayside as she steps out of her clothes. If that smarmy pretty boy thinks he’s going to charm her into agreeing with every wrong point he’s ever made- And there are so, so many- Well. She doubts his dick could be that good.

Also, she isn’t thinking about his dick. Weird. Ew. He’s not even like. Her type. Freudian thought slip. Means nothing.

She’s more than happy to see the shower, and not to think about Dr. Hall.

—

She arrives at the hotel bar one hour and twenty minutes later. The twenty minutes, she thinks, prove a point about their relationship. One that she assumes will likely be lost on Dr. Hall entirely- In their brief and painful time together, she’s pieced together that he’s pretty damn dense.

He grins at her when she comes down the stairs, which already answers that question. The lateness had been for more than her benefit than his- Though now she feels like she’d just been prolonging the inevitable.

“Dr. Saunders,” he says, greeting her by putting his hand firmly and inarguably on her shoulder. “You look beautiful.”

She blinks at him. “Thanks.”

“I picked something up for you downtown,” he says. “I hope you like babosa, they always sell out this late in the day and I got you the last-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says, settling into her seat at the bar. “I realized on the elevator that you may think this is… something other than it is.”

“Oh?” he asks.

“Well,” she says, staring at the unassuming, white pastry box. “I think you may be confused by the nature of our relationship.”

He gives her a half grin, leaning onto his hand. “I assure you, Dr. Saunders, my interest in you is purely professional. I mean, we’ve spent how long picking apart each other’s papers?”

“At least two years,” Kendra says. She doesn’t really like how easy-going he is, how unassuming. She crosses her ankles. “I um- I remember the first critique you wrote of my piece about that dig in Punta del Este? Where you said that I-“

“Completely disregarded my previous precedent set based on finds in similar areas,” he recalls. Fondly.

Kendra finds herself almost smiling, despite herself. “And I wrote back and said that you had absolutely no claim to be setting precedent?”

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” he says. “I wasn’t- I didn’t know if you’d respond to my critique, and you did, and it was so fiery and smart and just- I have wanted to pick your brain for some time, now.”

Kendra taps her fingers on the countertop. “I honestly thought we were bitter enemies, Dr. Hall.”

“Well who says we can’t be?” he says. “Every good archeologist has a rival.”

“Yes, but,” Kendra says. “You got me babosa.”

“To be honest,” he says, leaning in. “I got it hoping you’d offer me half.”

His eyes are kind of an unfair shade of green, sort of cloying and interesting. “Is that how you always do things?” Kendra says. “You do a nice thing for someone, hoping they’ll give you something?”

“Not always,” he says. “Not usually. But as I said. This is the best babosa in the city.”

Her tongue wets her lower lip. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she says. “My trust is not… so easily given. Dr. Hall.”

“You can call me Carter, you know,” he says, opening the box. “Though I assume you’d prefer I call you Dr. Saunders, and you’re keeping up the pretense to make the playing field seem equal.” He turns away for a second, signaling the bartender. “Could we get forks? And a- What do you drink?”

Kendra folds her hands across her knees. “What do you drink?”

“Whatever’s local,” he tells her, which is just the most excruciating answer he could’ve given. “Two,” he says politely, in Arabic. “On my tab.”

“Don’t buy me a drink,” Kendra says, sighing. “Please, Dr. Hall.”

“Ah,” he says. “You weren’t supposed to understand that part.”

“Of course I speak Arabic,” she says, almost miffed. “Most of my work takes me to this area, not Cairo before now but-“

“Relax,” he says. “You can buy the next round.”

“The next round?” Kendra says. “How much of my time are you planning to take up?”

He gestures to her with his newly-placed fork. “As much of it as you’re willing to give,” he says. “If you’re really that set on this nemesis narrative, then-“ He motions to the exit.

“I’m sorry,” Kendra says. “Narrative?”

He makes a casual sort of face at her, like he’s bemused by his own cleverness.

“People don’t think in narratives, Dr. Hall,” Kendra says. “Most people don’t. People that aren’t you. What’s your narrative, then? I play the Marion to your stunning Dr. Jones, and-“

“I’m sorry,” Carter says. “Did you just call him Dr. Jones? Everyone says Indiana Jones.”

“It felt more appropriate,” Kendra says. “I was-“ She motions to him. “Going with how you’re Dr. Hall and I’m- This is stupid. I’m not having this argument.”

“It’s not an argument,” he says. “I’m just stating a well known fact.”

“Carter,” she says, before she can stop herself, likely because it’s just a better name to say whilst in the throes of true frustration. “What do you want from me?”

“Your brain,” he says. “I actually-“ He reaches down to his bag, the exact kind of leather bag someone like him would be expected to have, and pulls out about seven hundred pounds of paper.

Kendra watches him slam the papers onto the counter, beaming at her. “Holy-“

“Our papers,” he says. “These are the original copies of yours I printed out and marked up, so you’ll find they have some smudges- I’ve been storing them well enough, but I’d love for some more in-person critique from you on my-“

“Dr. Hall,” Kendra says. “That’s hundreds of pages.”

“We have beer,” he says. “And the rest of our little group shouldn’t be here until much, much later tonight- Unless you’d like to do something else? There’s an amazing nightclub in the center of the city, we can go onto the roof and-“

“I’m good,” Kendra says. “I mean. I’m-“ She eyes the bakery box, the beers that have been placed by Carter’s arm. “You’re buying the next round,” Kendra says. “And the next one. And the next.”

He flips through the stack of papers, pulling out a report and passing it over to her. “As many as you want, Dr. Saunders.”

“And-“ She stares at the title page. It’s one of his older ones- one of her least favorites. “I want that babosa.”

“Of course,” he says, moving the box. “All yours.”

She opens the box rather contemptuously, feeling her heart soften just a touch at the small cake slice looking up at her. “It does look,” she pulls her lips into a line. “Really good.”

He offers her the handle of his fork. “It is.”

“Do you have a pen?” she says.

“Any color,” he replies.

She tapes the cake box with her fork. “Red’s fine.”

He lets out a small, amused noise at that, a sort of visible happiness that reaches his eyes. “Red it is.”

She could almost find him cute, if he wasn’t so utterly full of himself. Like she has nothing better to do tonight than read his papers.

Okay. So maybe she didn’t. And maybe he got her cake. That meant nothing.

She takes the pen from him, her fork already placed aside. She uncaps it with her teeth, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “Here,” she says, circling the title on the front page. “I always hated this title.”

“We’re off to an excellent start,” he says.

“Quiet,” she says, reaching for her beer. He hands it to her. For a second, she meets his gaze, and catches something in it that makes almost, almost, feel something for him.

She looks back to his paper, and swallows it down. “And here,” she says, turning the page. “Already, you’re demonstrating your classic disregard of context.”

“Classic?” he says. “Is this something I do often, Dr. Saunders?”

“It’s your signature,” Kendra says. “Here. See how you’re already drawing a false conclusion based on your original misconception?”

“Well,” he says, pulling her paper out from the stack. “That sounds an awful lot like the argument you made in this paper, and I already countered that in-“

“I thought you wanted my critiques,” she tells him.

He’s the very picture of innocence, staring wide-eyed at her. “Well,” he says. “I thought you’d appreciate the back and forth.”

“Right,” she says. “Because you’re just so thrilling to argue with.”

“You’ve been doing it for quite some time now,” he says. “Am I too… intimidating in person?”

And it’s such a clear, present dare, such an obvious way to get her attention, but he’s so smug and so teasing that she sort of wants to take the bait. “You know,” she says. “You’re really pretty full of yourself for someone that misunderstands basic context. Then again, I guess I can’t really be surprised, what with the PhD program in St. Roch-“

“This!” he interrupts, grinning at her. “From the woman making her mark in Central City, of all places, the city where that lab exploded,”

“I had nothing to do with that,” Kendra says. “I’m an archeologist.”

“All I can say is,” he remarks. “It doesn’t set a good precedent.”

“That has got to be your favorite word,” Kendra says. “Which is hilarious, because I don’t think you know what it means.”

“Oh?” Carter asks.

“And here,” Kendra says, emphatically underlining a statement in his paper. “This has bothered me since I read this damn thing. First of all-“

“I’m listening,” he says.

“Don’t interrupt,” Kendra says. “First of all-“

She tilts her head to look at him, and catches that he’s staring at her way too intently, his hand on his knee and his body arched towards her.

Kendra pushes her seat back. “Well-“

—

She’s lost track of the time when she reaches her fourth beer- Or her fifth? She’s scribbled something onto Carter’s paper that reads, “This sounds like something a JERK would say,” with a little frowny face next to it, and she’s having trouble remembering exactly which one the Hellenistic period is- Her thoughts feel kind of warm and fuzzy, and not just because Carter’s knee has been touching hers for like… ever.

He glances down at her note, looking back up at her with a grin. “You think I’m a jerk?”

“I think,” she taps the center of his chest with her pen. “You write like one.”

“Okay, Kendra,” he says, slipping the pen from between her fingers. “I think we have had a wonderful evening, and you should go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” she protests, trying to grab the pen back from him. He holds it at a distance from her, and the soft way he chuckles warps around her thoughts like honey. “Carter. I’m not done yet.”

“Oh, I know,” Carter says. “But we’ll have other times. It’s late. You should have some water and go to bed so you’re not sick tomorrow.”

“I don’t get sick,” Kendra tells him, hair falling over her shoulders. “I’m fine.”

“I know, I know,” he says. He slides the papers off the counter, carefully re-organizing his bag as Kendra drums her fingers on her knees.

“Carter,” she says.

“Hm?” he asks, still sorting papers.

“Did you ask me out?”

He looks up at her. “Did you want me to?”

“Answer my question,” she says, furrowing her brow. “Have you been spending all this time planning to- Date me?”

He smiles at her, sort of soft and sort of amused, looping his arm around her waist and pulling her off the bar stool. “I asked to share a drink with you, sure,” he says. “I asked for you to talk about work with me, of course. That’s all quite true.”

She finds standing to be a bit of a challenge, and she rests her head on his shoulder, only because it steadies her. “You don’t even know me.”

“Ah,” he says, guiding her to the elevator. “But I know your work. And that makes me feel like I’ve known you for ages.”

She snickers. “We just met.”

“Oh, come on,” he says. “You don’t think it feels like we’ve known each other forever?”

She tilts her head, glancing sidelong at him. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling,” he says. “I thought it was mutual.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know you.”

“Well,” he says, riding up with her to her floor. “I hope you get to know me, at least. I’ll have drinks with you anytime you want.”

He guides her down the hall to her room, moving for her pocket.

“Carter!” she says, jolting at his touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. He holds her white key card between his fingers, a show of true intent. “Your key.”

“Right,” she says. “Right. I-“

“I mean, even if we were going to do that, Dr. Saunders,” he says, and she feels very acutely like he’s teasing her. “You’re way too far gone.”

“Please, Dr. Hall,” she says, grinning as the door clicks open. “Only in your dreams.”

“I will,” he says, as she separates from him, letting herself into her room. “I will dream of you, Dr. Saunders.”

“Don’t make it weird,” she says. “Okay? Don’t make this whole thing weird.”

He’s still smiling at her, and it makes her feel like smiling back, like running her thumbs against the creases of his mouth and- “I won’t make it weird,” he says. “You have my word.”

“Goodnight,” she says, softly.

“Goodnight, Dr. Saunders,” he says. “Would you like to ride with me to the site tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Yes. I’d- Let’s do that.”

He reaches for her hand, squeezing it once before dropping it. “Until then.”

“Bye,” she offers.

“Goodbye,” he says, and the door shuts between them.

It takes her ten full seconds to remember to turn on the lights- And another ninety seconds for her to scold herself for feeling so… gooey.

She strips out of her jeans, her shirt, slipping off her bra and letting it fall somewhere on the floor. When she falls into bed, it’s the best feeling in the whole world.

For a second, she’s aware that leaning on Dr. Hall meant she got a headful of him, that he smelled really, really good, a bit like leather and a bit like soap.

“He’s an ass,” she tells herself, and she does mean it. “He’s an absolute ass,” she repeats, and turns off the lights.

#hawkmates #kendra saunders #carter hall #lot fic #legends of tomorrow #my fanfiction #this is going to be #such a fucking beast to write #anyway enjoy this cute squabbling hardcore fucking to ensue in a few chapters #lot au #archeologist!hawks #userjamesolsen #wayneskent #drshierahall

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zaritarazi · 8 years

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for the things we've handed down

read it on my NEW ao3 for @oberynmartell -- Kendra has her baby on the day Rip’s mother visits the Waverider, which she announces by gently clutching Rip’s desk with one hand, and her bulging stomach with the other, and softly saying, “Oh. Fuck.”

Kendra has her baby on the day Rip’s mother visits the Waverider, which she announces by gently clutching Rip’s desk with one hand, and her bulging stomach with the other, and softly saying, “Oh. Fuck.”

And perhaps, if Rip hadn’t spent the past 72 hours awake, stress-cleaning the Waverider, and perhaps if he hadn’t felt his mother was here to inspect the ship top-down, not to “Pay a simple visit, are you kidding me?” Then perhaps Rip, in all of his infinite sensitivity, would’ve said something other than, “Really, Kendra? Right now?”

To which Kendra, probably because she’s, well, about to give birth, barely manages to scrape together a fairly nasty look before saying, “Wow.”

And Rip has a retort planned, he does, because even the birth of a child is no reason to abandon Sheer Wit- But he is quickly drowned out by Ray, screaming, screaming so, so loudly, “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD. NOBODY PANIC, I PREPARED FOR THIS.”

Rip has never felt more acutely like panicking in his life. Well. Has never felt more acutely like panicking in, say- The past hour, or so.

“I think,” Kendra says, still in that gentle, strained voice. “That I should get to the medbay.”

And Carter is, really, truly, seriously about to just lift her and carry her there, bridal-style, though that’s no different than Carter any other time, regardless of how in labor Kendra is, but it’s Mother that stops him with the wave of her hand, crosses her arms, and says, “Your office is a far better place to have a baby.”

“Mother,” Rip says. “You really shouldn’t have to see this- Well Kendra is so shy, you know-“ He ignores that look, not just from Kendra but from every single other person on the ship and God, probably. “You shouldn’t have to see her have a baby, it’s really going to be a nightmare, truly-“

“Michael,” his mother says, with that crispness that leaves no room for a discussion. “I have been a midwife for literal centuries. You’re lucky I’m on board today, with your attitude.”

If Rip could die on the spot, he would. Let the newborn baby lead the timeship. Really.

“Your office is cozy and nicely lit and warm,” his mother continues, ignoring the glower Rip has taken on. “Much nicer place to have a baby than your cold little medbay, Michael.”

“But-“ And if he wasn’t so English, he’d probably stomp his foot in protest. “It’s my office.”

“Michael,” she says.

“Right, right,” he mumbles. “Lay on the carpet, Kendra. Let’s have ourselves a baby.”

Kendra lets Ray help her onto the ground, first onto her knees, then gently laying her on her back. “Who is the ours, here, Rip?” Kendra asks, resting her feet on the floor. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s water broke in her pants.”

“And you’re getting it on the carpet,” Rip says, like he’ll die from the shock of it. “I mean. Mother. If you could please talk us all through the procedure.”

“Of course,” she says, folding her hands over her stomach. “One or two of you should go get blankets- A good deal of them. One to wrap the baby in, as well. And have the fabricator make something to cover her- Any kind of hospital gown should do.”

Jax, who is still young enough to bear the emotional scars of watching a woman give birth on an 80s VHS tape in ninth grade biology, quickly says, “On it,” before bolting towards the fabricator. Fast walking. His knee didn’t allow for much bolting, but the spirit of it was there.

“And- Miss Saunders, correct?” Mother says.

“Mrs. Saunders-Palmer-Hall,” Ray says, helpfully.

“Lance,” Sara adds.

“Lance,” Ray repeats.

“Yes,” Mother says, not even bothering to flare her nostrils. “If you could roll down your trousers- Though I assume you’ll want to leave your pants on until the blankets come.”

“Um-“ Kendra sort of uselessly lifts her feet, trying to reach for her shoes.

“Right,” Carter says, dropping to the floor beside her. “Right. Sorry, princess. I was- I was caught up in a memory. You know how it goes.”

Kendra lets Sara push the hair off her forehead, wiggling her toes as Carter pulls off her boot. “What memory?”

“The first time we did this,” he says. “When you had Aldus.”

For a moment, there is silence. And Kendra says. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought- I’m trying to-“

“Let’s not make this weirder than it already is,” Len says, leaning in the doorway. “Focus on this baby first, birdbrain.”

“Yeah, so,” Kendra says. “Are uh- Are you all just gonna stand there and watch, or-“

“I was there when Lily was born,” Dr. Stein says. “I thought my services would be needed.”

“You literally got your memories of Lily like, two weeks ago,” Sara says.

“And it’s a good thing I did, Sara,” Dr. Stein adds. “Because now I’m here to help Kendra. Is she breathing properly?”

“Oh my God,” Ray says. “What happens if she breathes wrong?”

“Well, that’s one of you,” Kendra says. “But um- do the rest of you- I mean-“

“I feel like it’s weird to leave if everyone else is staying,” Nate says. “You know?”

“Why don’t I-“ Amaya watches the scene for another moment, then licks her lips. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Thank you,” Kendra says. “I love you.”

And she can feel Amaya grinning, though she’s out of sight.

“Miss Saunders,” Mother offers, moving beside her in Rip’s office. “While I expected something a bit… unorthodox from this team, I do want to forewarn you that when you give birth, you’re going to, well. It can get a bit messy.”

“I’ve eaten her ass,” Mick says. “We’re all friends here.”

“Mick!” Rip shrieks. “In front of my Mother?”

“It’s fine,” Kendra says. “Whatever. They’ve all seen my vagina.”

There’s a murmur of agreement among the group.

“We have,” Sara tells Rip’s mother, and Rip tries very hard to will himself into the void of space.

“I’m the one that did it, though,” Ray says. “I mean- It’s- That’s my baby, in there. I did that.”

“So really, she should be able to walk out of Kendra any minute now,” Len says.

Mother turns her head to look at him, raising a single eyebrow.

“Because he’s got a huge prick,” Mick says.

“Enormous,” Len adds.

“Like, scary big,” Sara says.

“Divine, really,” Carter says.

“It’s THE BEST, OKAY,” Nate says, and only then does Ray flush red.

“This is great,” Kendra says. “This is exactly how I pictured this going.”

“Really?” Sara says.

“I mean, Rip’s mom wasn’t here, but otherwise yeah, pretty much,” Kendra says. “I’m glad you are here, though. Ma’am. It’s nice to have a calm head.”

“I am PERFECTLY calm,” Rip says.

“Don’t throw up until I start crowning, okay?” Kendra says.

“KENDRA.”

“Kendra what,” Amaya says, returning with a glass of water. She joins the group of four already huddled over Kendra, handing her a glass of water.

“Kendra said crowning,” Rip says. “In front of my mother.”

Amaya looks up at him. “The mother that’s right here, helping Kendra give birth?”

“Oh, Michael’s gotten more squeamish as he’s gotten older,” his Mother says. “He’s too English, really.”

“That’s true,” Sara says. “She’s right about that.”

“Ray,” Amaya says, gently lifting Kendra’s head to help her drink. “You’re crying.”

He touches his face. “Am I?”

Kendra slowly guides her hand to cover his, to thumb at the tears spilling down his cheeks. “Ray.”

“I’m happy,” he says. “I’m so- I’m so excited. And I’m just- I don’t think I have words to describe it, Kendra.”

“I love you,” she says, softly.

“I love you too, princess,” he says, taking her hand.

“Oh-“ Kendra wiggles her fingers. “I’d say maybe don’t do that. Hawkstrength. May break your hand.

“Right,” Ray says, moving his hand to her collarbone. “Amaya?”

“Here,” Amaya says, taking Kendra’s hand.

Carter takes her other one and the wordless knowledge of his presence is more than enough.

“Blankets,” Jax says, muffled by what Kendra assumes is more blankets than anyone should carry. “I’ve got blankets.”

“Holy shit, kid,” Mick says, and that starts the shuffling flurry of blankets, and Carter does get to lift her, like he wanted, and she’s pretty sure they’ve made a mattress of blankets by the time they lay her down.

“Aw,” Kendra says. “You got me a pillow.”

“Yeah,” Jax says. “Yeah, of course.”

“You know you don’t have to stay,” Kendra says. “This is… a birth, I mean.”

“Oh, thank God,” Jax says.

“Yep,” Rip says. “Kitchen, Jefferson?”

“Yeah,” Jax says. “Come get us when she’s out!”

“We will!” Sara calls. “God. What babies.”

“Phrasing?” Kendra says.

“Sh,” Sara says. “Lie back and think of Ray’s penis.”

—

Rip, always one for timing and gentle statements, greets Kendra and her newborn baby by saying, “Well. You did it.”

Kendra grins, and he thinks her daughter mirrors it for a moment, even if it’s only by accident. “Yeah,” Kendra says. “It was… interesting.”

“7 out of 10,” Len says.

“How many births have you witnessed?” Sara asks.

“Two,” Len says. “This, and my sister.”

“Well I think it was a 10 out of 10,” Ray says. “Because she’s perfect, and Kendra is perfect.”

“Honestly?” Kendra says. “Like, 2 out of 10, would not recommend for a funtime activity,” Kendra says, rocking the baby in her arms. “Not looking forward to doing it again, but-“ She shrugs.

“Let’s raise this one, shall we?” Rip says. “Before you go having more of them.”

“Oh,” Carter says. “But I’m on the schedule.”

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Rip says. “And I don’t want to know, because it will just upset me.”

“Let’s all just,” Kendra looks to Carter, something quiet and only known to the two of them. “Let’s just all keep the shenanigans to a light level, right now.”

“Please,” Mother says, still calm and collected. Not a hair out of place. “I’d hate to lock the lot of you in the brig so the baby could sleep.”

“Would you hate that, Mother?” Rip asks.

She gives him a flitting, wry grin, and for a moment he feels terribly homesick, but swallows it. “Of course not, Michael.”

“Ray,” Kendra says. “Would you like to hold her?”

And Ray, who Rip assumes has not stopped crying, who is crying right now, softly, says, “I- Are you sure I should hold her already? She’s so small.”

And in the silence of it, Kendra looks up at him, propped up on blankets and pillows and covered in sweat. “Don’t you want to hold her?”

“Of course,” Ray says. “Just don’t want to- I don’t know. I don’t hold a lot of babies.”

“I do,” Dr. Stein says. “I would, for one, love to hold her.”

“Before Martin runs off with the infant,” Sara says. “Ray. It’s okay.”

Kendra nods in agreement. “How big did you think she’d be, Ray?”

“I-“ Ray wipes his cheek on the back of his hand. “I don’t know.”

“She has your eyes,” Amaya says. “Look!”

“She has Kendra’s face,” Ray says.

“She’s a newborn, honey,” Kendra says.

Ray holds out his arms. Rip thinks he must’ve been kneeling this entire time, that at this point, his back is probably killing him. Rip also doubts Ray notices at all. Wonders if Ray will care about himself ever again, and thinks probably not. “I can just tell,” Ray says. “She looks like her mom.”

“Still Josephine?” Rip asks.

“Yeah,” Kendra says. “She’s still Josephine. Saunders. Palmer. Hall-Lance?”

“We’ll figure that out later,” Carter says, watching Ray take the little baby with a kind of unbridled fondness. “For now, Josephine Saunders.”

“Hi,” Ray says, shifting her in his arms. “Hi. Do you recognize my voice? Do I-“ He stares down at her. “Do you like me?”

“Oh my God,” Sara says. “Ray.”

“Yeah,” Mick says. “That’s about what I expected.”

“Of course she likes you,” Nate says. “Everyone likes you.”

Kendra grins, and it’s kind of sweet and kind of strained from exhaustion. “Ray,” she says. “That’s your daughter. She loves you.”

“You’re sure?” Ray says.

And the entirety of the room responds, “Yes.” Quietly, though. So not to disturb the baby.

“So,” Sara says. “We did remember to build a crib, right?”

“Oh,” Rip says. “No.”

“You heard her,” Len says. “Woman needs a crib. Chop chop.”

“I-“ Rip licks his lower lip. “I put away Jonas’ old crib somewhere on here. When it was- All of us, I mean. What used to be all of us.”

Kendra tilts her head, a sort of quiet common ground blooming between them. “You don’t have to find it.”

“I want to,” Rip says. And Josephine is small, small as Ray said she is, dwarfed by his huge body as he holds her. “She- She should have it.”

When he meets Kendra’s gaze, her eyes are wet. “Thank you,” she says. “For- Everything. I mean.”

He wrings his hands together. “Before I do,” he says. “Could I- Hold her?”

“Hold her,” Jax says. “I’ll go look.”

“Aw,” Kendra says. “You don’t want to hold a baby?”

“I’m good,” Jax teases, and she grins.

Rip settles on the floor beside Ray, taking Josie into his arms. He’d forgotten how light babies were, how little mass she carried in her tiny body. “Oh,” he says, staring into her big, brown eyes. “Hello, Josie.” She stares. He stares back. “Very um. Nice to meet you.”

“Always a natural with children, Michael,” his mother says. “Just like I said you’d be the first time.”

And for some reason that makes him feel like smiling, closed mouthed and throat tight. “Thank you, Mother.”

“She likes you,” Sara says. “See? She thinks you’re warm.”

“Well,” Rip says. “Thank you, Josie.”

She blinks up at him, and he calls it understanding, though he knows she’s far too new for that.

“She is beautiful, Kendra,” Rip says. “Really. I mean it.”

“Beautiful enough to make up for having her in your office?” Kendra teases.

Rip looks down at the baby, and nods. Mostly to himself. “Yes,” Rip says. “She absolutely is.”

#lot fic #atomic hawk #legends of tomorrow #atomic hawk fic #lotfic #userjamesolsen #plinys #icedvulpix #wayneskent #this is really an everyone/everyone fic #but it's kendra and ray's baby so they're the listed ship #but it's really kendra/all and all/all #my fanfiction #babyfic!

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