#yes yes there's thea and the ch*king

[foxstens]

how is kandreil not real when neil couldn't leave until he knew kevin would be okay and kevin said 'you should be court' and kevin was the center of andrew's strange world and kevin said 'you're worth it' and andrew trusted neil with kevin because kevin was important to both of them and

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: Ripples in Time (Ch. 3 of 3)

Set in my "Chances Are" continuity. (In which Leonard Snart got stuck in 1958 with Sara, Ray, and Kendra.) Rip's already lectured Sara and Leonard about how their actions in 1958 may have changed many things. Turns out, at least one of those things strikes very close to home. Set between chapters 16 and 17 of "Somewhere on Your Road Tonight."

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

It’s late by the time they get back to the hotel, sneaking in like teenagers, but Sara’s still so full of adrenaline that she makes quite good on the promise of that kiss. Later, Leonard somewhat groggily asks for the number of the truck that hit him—though he does it with a pleased smirk on his face—before falling quite soundly asleep, and Sara follows soon afterward, still entwined with him on the far-bigger-than-Waverider-quarters king bed.

She sleeps soundly herself, waking by the time she’d planned to and rising quietly. Leonard only utters a sleepy murmur, but he opens his eyes a little by the time she returns, showered and dressed.

“Going somewhere?” he mutters, reaching for her. Sara evades him easily, but then leans back over to kiss him.

“I told you,” she reminds him. “I’m going to see Dig and Lyla and baby Sara, and then to lunch with Thea.”

Leonard blinks, but then she sees memory rise in his eyes again. “Right.” He pushes himself up on an elbow. Sara hums appreciatively as the sheet falls aside a bit, giving her a very nice view. “You want me to come with you?”

She’d already told him it was fine, but she gives it due thought again anyway. Something about the idea of seeing Len meet her small namesake is very appealing. But…

Leonard nods as he sees her pause. “Go see the kid without having to explain me,” he says quietly, stretching back out—and smirking as he sees Sara’s eyes trail slowly down his torso, following the line of dark (OK, maybe a little graying) hair under the sheet that’s still slung over his hips. “I’ll see you later.”

“Mmmm.”

“Sara. Aren’t they waiting for you?”

“They’re not going anywhere.” Her fingers twitch with the impulse to reach out and pull away that sheet.

“Neither am I.”

When Sara finally does leave, Leonard’s not ashamed to admit he goes back to sleep, enjoying the opportunity in a way he rarely can. When he finally rises, he gets ready in a more leisurely fashion, then tries to figure out what to do next.

It’s obvious, probably. It doesn’t take long before he decides to see if he can saunter into the Arrowcave like he does into STAR Labs. Hopefully without getting an arrow through the brain.

Well. He’s never been one to make the wisest decisions. And the challenge is intriguing.

Presumably, Queen & Co. won’t want to piss off Sara by killing him. So there’s that.

Memory gets him to the site. Skill gets him in. The security system is good, very good, but it’s not Leonard Snart good. He doesn’t even trip it. He just…convinces it.

So, he’s very, very smug when he saunters into the Arrowcave proper, smirk on his face, hands behind his back, trying not to look like a threat but completely willing to look like an asshole.

It lasts as long as it takes him to get far enough for Felicity Smoak (who’s sitting at her desk and studying her computer) to glance up and see him.

“Oh,” she says in a bored tone, “it’s you.” Then, to his surprise, she giggles. “The man of the hour.”

Well, this isn’t what he expected. Or wanted. Leonard frowns at her, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Come again?”

Felicity waves a hand at another desk. “Read ‘er and weep, lover boy.”

Leonard eyes her a moment, then sidesteps over to that desk. There’s a newspaper there, one of the more tabloid-ish local ones, and he glances down at it.

His jaw drops. Felicity snickers again.

There’s a photo there. It’s under the fold, as the top is face down, but it’s still clear and in full color. And it’s…him. And Sara. Kissing. There on the rooftop. A nearly full moon in the background, illuminating them in a scene like something from a movie.

The photographer had somehow managed to miss the archer in green who was on the rooftop with them. Leonard stares at it a moment, then skims the caption. Oh. Peachy. They’ve clearly identified him as Central City’s Captain Cold (“hasn’t been seen for six months since his escape from Iron Heights”) and they’re baffled by Sara (“another Star City Canary?…successor?...who?...why?”). To his slight amusement, the paper’s clearly linked them to the police raid on the drug operation, though not the Arrow, and they’re both being taken as well-intentioned, if vigilante-inclined, heroic types.

It’s a good pic, actually. Even if he never saw it coming. Leonard studies it a moment longer, imagining what’s going to happen if Lisa sees it before he can explain, then shakes his head.

“Way to destroy my image.” he sighs, tossing the paper aside.

Felicity is peering around her screen, looking like she’s holding back laughter. “You did it to yourself,” she points out.

“That’s who I was talking to.” Then something else occurs to him, something involving Felicity and how he first “met” her and who her friends are—and how she’s watching him with such gless. Leonard stops in his tracks. “Wait. Tell me you didn’t send that to…”

Too late. He closes his eyes in resignation as a golden-red blur darts into the room, resolving into a red-suited man who’s not even bothering to wear a mask, but who is wearing an immense grin.

“…Barry Allen,” Leonard finishes. “Gee. Thanks, Smoak.”

Felicity stands, eyes huge. “Wait. You know…”

“Yes, I know his name,” Leonard drawls in exasperation before folding his arms and leveling a stare at the other man. “Barry.”

“Snart!” the younger man says happily. He looks like he’s going to step forward and try for a hug, but Leonard steps deliberately backward when he sees it coming, and Barry stops. “I knew you guys were back for a couple days, but Dr. Stein and Jax and Mick wouldn’t say where you were. You and Sara Lance? Really?”

Leonard keeps his gaze chilly. “That tone of surprise is rather insulting, Allen.”

“I didn’t mean it that way!” Barry looks a little rattled, which is satisfying, but that big grin is still there. Once, Leonard would have assumed it was mocking him, but he knows better now, with 1958 and Gabriel Drive behind him. Barry Allen is idealistic and brave and, OK, kinda cute. He’s also kind, and Leonard knows it now for the odd strength it is instead of a weakness.

If he really thinks Leonard is happy with Sara Lance, that grin is 100 percent genuine.

“It’s just…” Barry actually scuffs a toe on the ground. It’s kind of adorable. Leonard scowls. “…I never even thought it was likely that you two would meet, let alone…ah…”

“Hook up?” Felicity asks gleefully from her desk, apparently deciding to try to stir the pot a little more for her own entertainment. Leonard ignores her, although Barry flushes a little.

“Yeah,” he mutters, though he keeps that damned grin. “After all that protesting about not being a hero…”

“I’m not…” Leonard gives up. “What’s your point?”

“Nothing! Good for you, Snart. I mean…is it serious? Um.” Barry darts a glance at Felicity while Leonard decides he’d rather sink into the ground and vanish than have Barry Allen fishing for clues about his intentions toward Sara. “Does Oliver know…?”

“Does Oliver know what?” The man himself stalks into the room and Leonard closes his eyes in a “give me strength” gesture. There’s a faint sound from the far wall and an elevator opens, letting Laurel out. It’s a measure, Leonard figures, of how weird this whole situation is that he’s relieved to see the lawyer. He tosses a glance her way as she wheels toward them, annoyed that it probably comes out a little pleading, and is even more annoyed when Barry…well, giggles is probably the best word…on his other side.

But Queen takes one look at the paper and snorts, a sound that Leonard thinks might actually contain a little amusement. “Oh, I did,” the archer says. “Frankly, I think everyone in the city has. And beyond.” He gives Leonard a cool look, but there is indeed a hint of humor in his gaze. “I should have warned you. The would-be paparazzi have taken to camping out in places with good views of likely rooftops. Sorry about that.”

He’s not sorry at all. Leonard regards him steadily, then decides not to take the bait. “Well,” he drawls, looking down at the photo. “It’s a good pic. Maybe they’ll give us a copy of the file in exchange for an autographed copy or something.”

Queen loses the smile, but Laurel chuckles. She starts to say something, but they’re interrupted by the footsteps, and Sara’s voice lifting in greeting.

“Hey,” she calls as she enters the room, “look who I found outside!”

Because this day couldn’t much any weirder or more awkward. Still, Leonard finds his lips lifting in a smile as he watches Mick sauntering in at Sara’s side, eyeing the gathered heroes with a look of wary uncertainty. He obviously brightens with relief, too, as he sees Leonard, though he quickly hides it behind habitual surliness and the expression that says clearly that he’s already decided to give no fucks about this gang of heroes before they can decide not to give any fucks about him.

“Allen,” he barks at Barry. ��What the hell?”

Barry looks sheepish. “Well, I wasn’t going to bring you in here without asking,” he retorts, then looks at the nonplussed-looking Queen. “Uh. Hi, Oliver…”

Felicity raises a hand. “Uh. Did you just tell the arsonist Oliver’s name?”

“Already knew it, Ponytail.”

Eyes go to Leonard, who promptly jerks his thumb at Sara, perfectly willing to pass the buck. She rolls her eyes.

“They’re my teammates,” she says with exasperation, folding her arms, “no matter what you think of their prior career paths.” She glances at Mick. “You’re not going to burn down the Arrowcave, right, Mick?”

“Pro’bly not.”

“See?”

Queen finds his voice. “Sara…”

Sara can take care of herself. Leonard moves with some alacrity toward Mick. “You let Allen flash you over here? Really?”

His friend shrugs. “I was bored. And Allen wigged out over that pic…though not as much as Ramon did.” He smirks. “You OK? Blondie’s dad didn’t try to murder you?”

“Not yet, anyway.” Leonard’s trying to decide whether to surreptitiously get Mick out of there or stay and watch the potential chaos, when his thoughts are interrupted by a quiet, amused voice.

“Mr. Rory, I presume?”

He glances over and sees Laurel sitting there watching them, a smile hovering around her mouth. He offers her a wry smile, glancing at Mick, who blinks at Sara’s sister as she sits there and considers him.

“Yeah,” he finally manages. “Hi.”

Laurel inclines her head to him, extending her hand. Mick, looking slightly flummoxed, takes it, but keeps holding it as if he’s not sure what to do with it. Leonard, not sure whether to smirk or wince, clears his throat, but Laurel doesn’t seem to mind, considering Mick thoughtfully.

“I understand that you’ve known Mr. Snart here a long time,” she tells him. “In fact, I gather you’re the next best thing to brothers.”

Mick blinks. Leonard blinks. But neither of them bothers to deny it.

“Uh,” Mick says finally. “Yeah. And yer Sara’s sister.”

Leonard winces again. Laurel just smiles.

“I am,” she acknowledges. “And I have so many embarrassing stories about her. And I’m willing to share them.”

Mick brightens. Belatedly, he gives her hand a shake, letting go, but Leonard sees Laurel tighten her fingers around his, briefly, first, almost a gesture of encouragement. Then she starts asking him about Leonard, about how they met, and Lisa, and Leonard decides that even after everything, Mick won’t purposely try to sabotage Laurel’s opinion of him.

He backs slowly off even as Sara comes up beside him, bumping his shoulder with hers and chuckling evilly as she sees Laurel talking to Mick.

“She’s not Mick’s type,” he says, even though he’ll admit some uncertainty. “Too classy.”

“I think you might be wrong about that,” Sara murmurs without saying exactly what he’s wrong about, but continues without clarifying. “Well. Even if nothing like that does happen, I think they might be something even rarer and more special.”

She smiles at his inquiring look, answering the unspoken question. “Friends. And isn’t that unexpected?”

“Huh.” Leonard considers them. Mick can claim all he wants that he doesn’t have friends, but that’s changed, on the Waverider…and he’s certainly behaving himself for the moment.

“Laurel’s good with people,” Sara says softly. “Better than I am. And…she’s changed. Once, I could see her balking at…”

“Befriending a criminal and arsonist?”

“Well, yeah. Now…” Sara smiles a little more, watching as Mick answers some question or another, getting a smile from Laurel. “We’ve all changed.”

“True, that.”

Somehow, with Barry’s visit and the entry of a few of the other members of Team Arrow, the gathering at the Arrowcave’s developed an oddly congenial atmosphere. Barry’s dispatched to get Iris at Felicity’s insistence, and the Diggle family turns up with wings and pizza at one point. Leonard’s getting used to getting various sorts of once-overs as new players arrive, and he thinks he’s handing them with equanimity.

When the Diggles arrive, Sara reaches for the tiny, curly-haired girl with a murmur of pleasure, and Leonard can’t help but watch as small Sara Diggle reaches for her in return. He exchanges a glance with the namesake’s father—one that on John Diggle’s part says clearly “don’t mess with us—or her--and we won’t mess with you”—and nods in acknowledgement.

The man Felicity calls “Curtis” gives him another sort of once-over, and the men exchange a nod with its own sort of recognition. He’s cute, in the sorta-geeky-yet-sorta-badass way Leonard has a certain predilection for in guys, and it’s kind of nice to see the same sort of appreciation there, even if neither one of them will act on it.

Then Thea Queen arrives and, having apparently been filled in by Sara, checks him out in the sort of semi-lascivious slow scan that actually draws a smirk from Leonard’s face. She winks at him when she’s done, and he winks back, and just like that, they seem to be OK.

Someone, at some point, gets beer and other beverages. Leonard notes in bemusement that a few more familiar faces have arrived…the Steins and Jax, Cisco and Snow. Sara’s in her glory, talking to old friends and new, and after a while, Leonard merely gets a drink, parks his back against a wall and watches her, smiling at her happiness.

“Snart.”

“Queen.” Leonard takes a drink of his beer, not taking his eyes off Sara. Oliver Queen leans next to him, apparently watching the same thing. After a few moments, though, Leonard can feel the gaze on him.

“I do not...dislike you as much as I would have thought.”

As overtures go, it’s certainly not the friendliest, but it’s more sincere for all that, and Leonard turns a little, eyeing the vigilante. “Same,” he drawls. Then he tilts his head. “I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

(He thinks he deserves a medal for not layering innuendo in those last words. A freakin’ medal.)

Queen doesn’t seem aware of that, but he does acknowledge the words with a return tip of his head—and a frown that makes Leonard frown in return.

After a moment, Queen speaks again. “I want Sara to be happy. She’s been through a lot and…” He hesitates. “A lot of it was my fault. In one way or another.”

Leonard leaves that alone. “You don’t think she’s happy,” he says, watching Sara and the smile on her face, making it both a question and not. He feels Queen turn his head to watch her too, and the silence between them stretches.

“No,” the other man finally says, with a sigh. “I know she is. I can see it. But…” He looks back at Leonard, who’s rather surprised to see sympathy in his eyes. “Snart. For how long?”

Leonard narrows his eyes. “Explain.”

Queen looks back at Sara, who’s still holding a contented-looking Sara Diggle and talking to the woman named Lyla. “What are you going to do?” he asks. “Come back from killing Savage and go back to being a crook?” His gaze flicks back to Leonard. “Shift paths and be a hero?” He holds up a hand as the other man starts to retort. “I know it worked out all right yesterday. But…people know who you were. Do you really think they’ll just let you change?”

Leonard wants to get angry about the words, but…there’s a strong feeling of inside knowledge there, and even pain, in Queen’s voice. And he’s wondered about such things himself; it’s why he’d grabbed the opportunity to reinvent himself with both hands, back in 1958. But can he do it in 2016?

He hesitates, and Queen sees it. The other man nods curtly.

“If it doesn’t work out, whatever your new plan is, what happens?” he says. “Do you just leave? Sara…she’s had too many people leave. But do you really feel like there’s a future for you two?”

Leonard stares at him. He still wants to be angry. Hell, he wants to be enraged. He wants to deny what Queen’s saying. But…

He’s said it himself. Queen’s right. Many people aren’t very willing to let juvenile delinquents…or their adult versions…be anything else once they’ve labeled them so.

Leonard glances away. He hears the other man sigh.

“I don’t…” Queen stops. Then he sighs again. “Just…think about it,” he says, shaking his head. He turns and walks away, back toward Felicity.

Leonard watches him go. Then he looks back at Sara, who’s set little Sara down and is smiling at the small girl as she toddles across the floor. And then he turns away, heading for the stairwell.

He needs some fresh air…and some space to think.

“Where’s Leonard?”

Sara’s been enjoying herself quite a bit during this rather impromptu party in the Arrowcave. She’s kept an eye on Leonard and Mick as she catches up with old friends, pleased at how they seem to be relatively comfortable—definitely more comfortable than she’d feared, or even hoped. Mick had been pleased at the arrival of others he actually knew, and it seems like Stein, of all the people, has decided to be somewhat protective of him.

They’ve become family, on the Waverider. As amazing and unlikely as that might seem.

Leonard had been holding up the wall and watching everyone and everything in his usual fashion, but he’d seemed comfortable enough. But he’s not there now, and Sara realizes she can’t remember when she’d last seen him there. And when she had…

Oliver’s looking guilty. Goddamnit.

Sara starts for him purposefully, glaring, and Felicity, seeing her coming, glances at him too. Her eyes narrow—she’s even better at judging guilty Oliver Queen expressions than Sara is. Laurel, no slouch at that herself, glances over, then starts wheeling toward them.

Oliver looks alarmed. Good.

“We had…a talk,” he says abruptly, folding his arms as the three women converge on him. “But if he left, he left of his own volition.”

“Oliver Queen,” Felicity hisses. “What did you say?”

He starts sputtering, but Sara doesn’t want to hear it. She turns away, scanning the room, then starts for the stairs.

“Sara!”

She turns back, looking at Laurel. (Felicity’s already lighting into Oliver as others start to notice.)

Laurel studies her, empathy in her eyes.

“If he left,” she says, “he’s still planning to come back. That man wouldn’t leave you on Oliver Queen’s say-so.”

Sara gives her a reluctant smile. “That man,” she responds, “won’t do anything on Oliver’s say-so.”

Laurel smiles in return. “Go find him,” she instructs. “No matter what stupid thing Ollie said, this Leonard Snart loves you. He won’t have gone far.”

She’s right.

Leonard, for all his relative dislike of heights, had gone where Sara is likely to find him—up, to the Star City rooftops. She finds him there, staring out at the city, expression distant and thoughtful.

He turns his head as he hears her approach, and she sees a smile flicker across his face. Well, that’s something, at least.

“You OK?” Sara asks as she joins him, gazing out at her city as well.

Leonard makes a noncommittal noise. “I just needed some fresh air.”

Sara snorts. “What did Oliver say to you?”

“Nothing that isn’t true.” But he caves as Sara lifts an eyebrow at him. “Suggested I think about what sort of future we’d have, me and you.”

Sara resolves, again, to kick Ollie’s ass. “That…” She stops. Sighs. “I want a future with you, Leonard. What that future is…we’ll work that out together.”

Leonard gives her another flicker of a smile. “Yes. That’s a given.” He hesitates, then reaches out, taking her hand, a rare sort of gesture for him.

It’s a relief. But Sara frowns, wondering. “Then what’s wrong?”

Leonard looks down and takes a deep breath. But he’s still holding her hand, and he doesn’t drop it. “Sara,” he says slowly. “I don’t know that I’m…that I’m the marrying kind…”

Oh.

Sara takes her own deep breath. Her fingers tighten on his. “Len,” she says, just as slowly. “You and I both know that…that it’s not always just…just a man and a woman, a floofy white dress, and a big party-- and then a house with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids and a golden retriever.”

His eyes lift to hers. There’s so much in them, and for a moment it takes her breath away. Then she clears her throat and keeps going, the emotion in his eyes giving her the strength to continue.

“Really, I think, it just comes down to two people who…who look at each other and say… ‘I love you, and I’ll stay with you,” she says. “If you’ll have me.’”

The words come out more intense and direct than maybe she’d originally planned. But Sara knows immediately that she’s OK with that. She’s at peace in a way she never thought she’d be, actually, standing here on a rooftop in Star City, listening to the sounds of the city below, staring into the eyes of a snarky, infuriating, complicated, wonderful crook.

After a still, oddly serene moment, he tugs her just a little closer, expression gaining an edge of…something. Determination? Resolve? Sara puts her other hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat even through the layers he wears, strong and steady even through that armor.

Then he nods, almost to himself, and speaks.

“I love you,” he tells her quietly. “And I’ll stay with you. If you’ll have me.”

It’s a proposal, and they both know it. Or maybe she’d proposed first, and it’s just his half of a mutual proposal, which seems like them, to be honest. The thought makes Sara smile, even as she goes up on her toes to put them more on a level.

“Yes,” she says in return. “Yes. Of course I will.”

A return smile flickers across Leonard’s serious face, something more complicated than just happiness (though that’s part of it), deeper than just relief. He pulls her close and kisses her, then, there on the rooftop, and Sara winds her arms around his neck and kisses him back, pouring herself into it, letting some of the worries and concerns of the future drift away, because they have this.

They have this.

When they finally separate, they’re both grinning like idiots, even Leonard, for whom that particularly foolish smile seems quite incongruous. After a moment, he shakes his head and settles his features into something more Snartlike, sardonic amusement mixed with his habitual confidence, and holds out a hand. Sara takes it again, then tugs gently, starting to lead him back to the others, the friends and family who might be worried about them.

Leonard goes willingly, especially since she heads for the fire escape and not just the edge of the roof. Sara hears him chuckle as they start down, and glances back at him.

“Anyway, we don’t need a golden retriever,” he tells her solemnly. “We have Raymond.”

She doesn’t stop laughing until they get back to the Arrowcave.