“The current date on the Gregorian Calendar is July 10th of the year 2020. We have returned to Central City, and it would appear that Vandal Savage’s plot has not yet been set in motion.”
“Thank you, Gideon,” Rip Hunter murmured and caressed workworn fingers over the console’s edge on his way by. “Details on the whereabouts of our teams current selves?”
Len glanced up as he stood from the theme park-esque seat provided by the timeship. Just at his shoulder, Mick Rory leaned forward, still not accustomed to the time hopping. Len doubted he ever would be. Mick was a very grounded man while Len had often been accused of having his mind in outer space he was so far ahead of his intellectual peers.
“Carter Hall - missing - cold case. Kenra Saunders of the year 2020 is currently visiting Kara Danvers in National CIty. Doctor Martin Stein and Jay Jackson of the year 2020 are currently in California discussing matters of importance regarding the rise of the supervillains with a new team of heroes there. Sara Lance of the year 2020 is currently visiting Star City, spending time with her father and her sister. Mick Rory - whereabouts unknown. Leonard Snart - whereabouts unknown.”
Len cast a glance down expecting and finding Mick’s eyes on him. They shared a small smirk and Mick finally got to his feet. It was good to know that not much changed after they returned from this mission.
“No further data on the whereabouts of Mick or Leonard?” Rip prompted.
“No further data is available,” Gideon confirmed.
Rip put his hands on his hips and Len felt a chill up his spine, but Rip merely turned. “Your present selves are fully aware of all of what’s happened to you thus far as they are you all inclusive futures. Presumably. It’s best if you avoid them. Not because of a world ending paradox so much as a headache and potential accusations of psychosis for your 2020 selves.”
Ray Palmer was already standing beside Gideon’s main console, studying hard the data she put up for him. Len wanted no part of staying and only one part of going, so he opted to start stepping towards the exit.
“Riiiiiight,” Len drawled and shared a small smirk with Sara. She likely was having the same thoughts on the matter as he was, but instead of really wanting a drink at the Iron Dragon Fight Club he really just wanted a Jitters iced cappuccino.
“We’re going to head to Mr. Jackson’s place,” Doctor Stein spoke up. “Catch up on a little sleep. When should we meet back here?”
Rip clapped his hands together. “Keep your communication device on you at all times. This is only going to be a short respite. Just long enough for Gideon and I to figure out what the hell we should be doing next.”
“Yes, mom,” Len snarked grumpily, already on his way out the door of the timeship. Mick chuckled beside him.
Len cast Mick a short glance. “What?”
Mick clapped his shoulder. “I’m heading to the Dive. See you later?”
“Tell Bunny I said ‘hello’.”
Mick laughed at that and then turned left, ambling away to his long evening of enjoyment. The sun was already setting and while he knew that they were in fact four years into his own future (and poor Mick if Bunny was no longer available though Mick wasn’t overly attached and any of those call girls would do), it felt just like any other evening in Central City. It was a bit disorienting to say the least. Sara patted his shoulder as she power walked past him and disappeared into an alleyway. Len just kept strolling down the sidewalk, stopping only when he’d finally reached Jitters.
The bell over the door was a merry little thing as he pushed in. As per usual many of the lady patrons and passing waitresses cast their eyes over him with interest. He knew himself well enough to cut a dashing figure just about anywhere.
“Isn’t that Leonard Snart?” he heard in a low, eager and startled whisper from over his right shoulder. Len ignored the woman in favor of offering the Barista in front of him a genuinely welcoming smile.
“Good evening…. Alexis. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to whip me up one of your hazelnut iced cappuccinos.”
“Of course, sir,” Alexis agreed, flustered and clearly trying to hide it. Her eyes darted over his shoulder, an unconscious but telling alert that someone with intent had just approached him from behind. Slowly, Len turned and leaned casually back against the counter his smirk only growing when he laid eyes on the young man before him.
“Barry Allen,” he announced, voice soft. “What a …pleasant surprise.”
Sara still isn’t certain how Leonard managed to convince Rip to let him play the society darling on their latest mission. The charming, debonair millionaire who was bored of art, and wanted to use his money for something more exciting, darker. There’s no doubt Len looks the part, in a dark, expensive looking suit, that clings in exactly the right places, and he could charm the panties off a nun. However, he’s also… Len.
Which is probably why she’s been assigned to play his wife, and his unofficial minder. She’s already replaced two bracelets and a wallet, as they’re dancing around the grand ballroom.
She plucks a gold watch from his pocket and holds it in his face, “Do you really have to pickpocket everyone?”
There’s a smirk on his face that answers her question.
“You’re going to get us thrown out, Len.” She hisses, smiling in spite of herself.
“Wouldn’t be much of a thief if I did that, would I?”
Sara feels Len slip something cool onto her wrist, looks down to see a diamond tennis bracelet resting there. His thumb brushes over her wrist, and Sara looks up to see a fond smile on his face. There’s that flutter again that she’s been trying to fight.
“She won’t miss it.” He leans in, whispers in her ear, “It suits you better.”
She wants to turn into his warm face, wants to melt into the promises he’s silently offering, wants to throw herself into the role she’s supposed to be playing and let herself fall for him. It would be so easy, so good. Her arms tighten around him, the smallest amount.
Len presses a light kiss at her temple.
“Len.” Sara warns, begs.
“Can’t I kiss my wife?” Len asks, the word sounds so reverent coming from him. There’s no trace of sarcasm, no trace of his usual smug tone.
She doesn’t answer. It would sell the role, not that the fact they can’t keep their eyes off each other doesn’t already do that, but she’d never stop, she’d never separate the mission from her own feelings. She knows Len wouldn’t either isn’t stupid, know he adores her as well.
“Sara. Stop running from this.” Len whispers, “I know I’m not the only one who feels it.”
She’s about to open her mouth, to give in…
“Mr Snart!” Their contact booms brightly, behind them.