She’s not sure when last time she read Rip laugh was. Not sure if she ever had, if she was being honest, but she’s hearing it now. Muffled sort of into his shoulder, a half noise that he tries to hide and it’s cute.
Cute.
Not usually a word she would use to describe Rip but it feels fitting.
“I like your laugh,” she says, quiet enough so that only he can hear it, standing beside her like he is.
He jolts just a little.
Shocked but not and turns to her.
“I wasn’t laughing.”
“Of course not, wouldn’t want the rest of the team to think that you’re normal.”
This time when his lips quirk upward it’s a smile just for her, “My greatest nightmare.”
on my way to steal… your food 🍩🍩 seriously, soooo hungry right now !
happy friday, my lovelies and happy pride month 🤘🏾🌈 here’s your daily dose of positivity and reminder that you’re loved, valid and that you matter. be proud, guys. be silly. let’s try be the best versions of ourselves. keep on being awesome, babes ✨✨
@anoasisinawasteland‘s fic request “if you could do anything about Team Legends - being domestic/arguing on the ship... - going on a vacation and wrecking havoc, being the adorable, nerdy fuck ups. Time Mum and Dad being disappointed but also joining in on the fun. - Gideon's pov over the team. Like a day in the life of Gideon and how she sees and reacts to the team” (LoT fandom)
i’m so sorry it took so long ! i’ve been swamped with work and stuff and i was hesitating between writing this and a gideon’s pov fic. - the latter will definitely happen at some point, because I absolutely love the idea.
hopefully you’ll like it!
“This is a bad idea.”
Jax shared an eye roll with Sara, both groaning loudly. From where he was leaning against Rip’s office doorframe, Ray frowned, miffed, while Nate pouted at his feet, his arms crossed in petulance. Amaya threw them a look before turning to Mick, the latter responding to her cocked eyebrow with a low grumble. Martin, unlike the others, didn’t seem undeterred nor peeved by the Time Master’s constant pessimism.
“Have a bit of faith, Captain,” Martin insisted, his grin hopeful. Rip responded by cocking an eyebrow, his expression unmoved, “We arse all responsible adults, aren’t we?”
“I beg to differ,” Rip muttered, gaze darting from one person to the other.
“Oh come on,” Sara groaned, getting up from her chair and walked to her co-Captain, “We’ve celebrated Christmas in March this year, in the 18th Century. I think we should be allowed to celebrate the 4th of July with the others in our actual timeline.”
“Oh I’ve got nothing against you lot causing chaos outside of my ship,” he retorted, his eyes wide-opened and his arms crossed against his chest. Sara mimicked his posture, her head tilted to the side, “I don’t even know why I’m involved in this, I’m British, in case you didn’t notice,” he added, his accent purposefully thicker.
“Oh we’ve noticed,” Sara muttered to herself, running her fingers through her hair. She plastered a smile on when he glared down at her, “Come on, Rip. It’s going to be fine,” she repeated, her tone slightly gentle.
“It’s going to be fun,” Jax added, “We’ve been at it non-stop for a year, man. We need a - well-deserved if I do say so myself – break.”
Rip’s gaze moved from to Jax to Nate and Ray, both of them staring at him eagerly and excitedly, to Amaya and Mick, who seemed to share the same indifference and complete boredom, to Martin, the latter staring at him with a knowing glint in his eyes. Finally, his eyes fell back onto Sara, rolling his eyes and stiffening a groan at her exaggerated pout and fluttering eyelashes. Letting out a sigh, Rip looked up to the ceiling, defeated.
“Gideon.”
“Yes, Captain?
“Chart a course for Star City, 2017. Present time,” he announced, rubbing his temples and ignoring the elaborated handshake exchanged between Ray and Nate.
“Right away, Captain. Shall we plan a stop to Central City first?” Gideon recommended, oblivious to the Englishman’s growing distress. Seemingly oblivious.
“Might as well,” Rip conceded, leaning back onto the holotable, avoiding Sara’s piercing stare, “Oy!” he called, frowning when he saw Jax, Ray and Nate leaving the bridge, “Where do you think you’re going? We’re about to time jump?”
“We’re taking the drop ship,” Jax told him, not even bothering to ask if he could actually take the ship. It was as much his that it was Rip’s, seeing as he was the most qualified to use it, “We’re going to buy some stuff for the barbecue. Race you there!” he added with a self-assured smirk.
The trio was gone before Rip could argue that they already had food on board and that the jumpship wasn’t a racecar. He groaned as he caught sight of Mick’s smirk, the latter patting his shoulder with unnecessary force as he passed him by, quickly followed by Martin and Amaya. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked down at Sara, frowning when he found her still staring at him, her eyes narrowed and her lips puckered.
“What is it, now?” Rip sighed, cocking an eyebrow.
“Just promise me something,” she held out a hand to stop any form of protesting, “You won’t go hide yourself and wallow in your room when we’ll get to Star City.
“And why would I do that?” Sara cocked an eyebrow at him, her arms crossed as she stood her ground, “I don’t even need to be here. Again, British,” he protested, pointing a finger to himself, “And this party isn’t for me, this is for you. All of you.”
“Still, you’re part of this team and we’re your friends. I won’t have you shut down in your room like a petulant child or moody teenager,” she insisted, “Captain’s orders,” her smug tone matching her smirk.
“You do realize that this is a shared title, right? You hold no power over me, whatsoever,” Rip deadpanned. He let out a groan at the narrowing of her eyes and low growl, “Fine, I’ll go to your bloody party and promise to not lock myself into my room like a petulant child or moody teenager,” he consented, mimicking her earlier words.
Apparently satisfied with his response, Sara shot him a bright grin and held out a hand for him to take, her head tilted to the side. Snorting in amusement, Rip accepted the hand and gave it a firm, ceremonial shake. She took him by surprise by pulling him closer to her and dropping a resounding kiss onto his cheek. Leaning back with a wide grin on her face, Sara gave his hand one last squeeze before she let go and skipped to her chair under Mick’s crude whistles, leaving a frozen and bewildered Rip behind her.
“-Ter? Captain Hunter?” Gideon’s slightly irritated voice pulled him out of his trance.
He blinked a few times before shaking his head and falling back onto the heels of his feet.
“Yes, Gideon?” Rip cleared his throat, passing his fingers through his hair.
“It would probably be best for you to strapped in. We are about to time jump.”
“Right you are, as always,” he muttered, ignoring Sara’s smirk as he went to sit beside her, his gaze focused on the control panel in front of him.
This was a horribly, terrifyingly bad idea.
Sara scowled as she took survey of the bridge, her arms crossed. He wasn’t here. Of fucking course, he wasn’t. They had landed in a Starling City abandoned park a couple of hours ago and their gathering of Supers – and a Golden Glider – was in full blast. With a sigh, she pushed back her hair and raised on her toes, hoping to catch a mess of blonde curls or a sharp green gaze. She walked by a gawking Diggle and an amused Oliver as the former took the ship’s interior, muttering to himself about time ships. Making her way down the lowered gate, she restrained a frustrated groan as she noticed that Rip wasn’t outside by the grills either. She stopped a second at the sight of Mick standing – too - close to a flaming pit, an unimpressed Lisa Snart by his side. She let herself breathe out in relief when she noticed Amaya standing a few steps away from the duo of rogues, her eyes darting every two seconds to them before she resumed her discussion with Alex – Kara’s older sister – and her girlfriend, Maggie.
Sara made her way back to the bridge, dodging she added fondly dubbed as the group of geeks and nerds – namely Barry, Cisco, Caitlin, Wally, Felicity, Nate, Ray and Winn – and walked to Kara, Iris and Thea, the trio observing the arguing with a mix of puzzlement and amusement. Seeing her approached, the younger Queen grabbed a bottle of beer from behind her and handed it to her. Sara accepted the drink with a grateful smile before she quickly uncapped it and took a huge gulp of it, sighing in relief as she cradled the bottle to her chest.
“Damn,” Iris whistled.
“Ditto. Hard being in charge?” Thea teased, her arms crossed and her own bottle hanging loosely between her fingers.
“You have no idea,” Sara muttered, running her fingers through her hair before casting another look around the bridge, “Say, you wouldn’t have seen a blonde, brooding, Englishman about ye high around the bridge?”
She watched as they exchanged looks before all shaking their heads, much to Sara’s dismay. With another sigh, she shot them another smile before resuming her search through the ship. She was tempted to go and march to Jax but decided to not to when seeing he was with his mother and the Stein family, apparently deep in conversation. She waited for him to catch her eye before she mouthed a simple question at him.
Where the fuck is Rip?
Jax gave her a clueless shrug to which Sara responded with an eye roll and a groan, her head falling back. It snapped back up when she heard him give a sharp whistle. Cocking an eyebrow at him, Jax responded with a smirk and a nod in her direction. With a frown, Sara twirled onto her heels and caught sight of Rip trying to sneak past their exceptional guests and into his office. That fucker.
“Ah-ah!” Sara exclaimed as she stormed toward him, smugly satisfied when he let out a yelp, “There you are: I was this close to seek Gideon on your ass. I thought we had a deal going on, Hunter.”
“We do,” he agreed, leaning back onto the doorframe of his office, “And as you can see, I’m not brooding like a moody teenager in my room.”
“You’re still avoiding people,” she pointed, “You need to mingle, get to know them.”
“I am not avoiding people,” Rip protested, pinching the bridge of his nose, “And I’ve already ‘mingled’ as you put it. By the way, I’ve had a lovely discussion with Lily Stein, whom which I had no idea existed until today,” he added, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkening.
He scoffed when she returned his look, unperturbed by it. She didn’t try to contain her victorious smirk when he looked away, shaking his head. He was angry, irritated that they had kept things from him, things of great importance. Oh, how the tables have turned. She watched as his anger deflated, his shoulders relaxing. Sara understood that while he wouldn’t push it now, they weren’t done talking about it.
“I already know those people. I’m from the future, remember?” Rip waggled his eyebrows at her.
“You know of those people or you know their futures selves. Two different things. Here, ” Sara handed him his beer, which he accepted the drink with a frown, wary, “You need to stop acting like a disgruntled old cat,” she said, wrapping an arm around his.
“You sure know how to make a guy feel nice about himself, Ms Lance,” Rip muttered, unconsciously taking a sip of her beer.
“What? Am I supposed to compliment you on your looks to get you to do what I want? Alright, then. You look really dashing today, Captain.”
Rip let out a snort, looking down at his outfit. Sara didn’t think that he had gone through the trouble of passing a comb through his hair, nor did he spent more than ten minutes looking for clothes to her, but he did. Annoyingly so, Rip looked good. He had abandoned his trench coat and had donned his brown worn out leather jacket, leaving it open to show the black shirt he was wearing underneath, matching with his dark jeans.
“Thanks, I guess,” Rip shot her a crooked smile, giving her a quick once-over, “I guess I could say the same thing about you, Miss Lance.”
“Oh you old charmer, you!” Sara cooed, dramatically flipping her hair over her shoulder as she began to pull on his arm, “Come on, now. Less flattering, more walking.”
Rip reluctantly followed her, making sure to dig his heels into the ground to slow down their pace. He responded to Sara’s glare with a look of his own, reminding her that he was being forced into this and that he could have very well taken his drop ship and gotten the hell out of here. Snorting, Sara resumed her trek toward where she had last seen Oliver and Diggle, grinning when she noticed they had been joined by her own father, Barry, Joe, Jimmy, J’onn and Lyla, the latter carrying little Sara in her arms.
“Fellas, ladies,” Sara called, her grin widening when they all turned to look at her, “Allow me to introduce you Captain Rip Hunter,” she nudged his shoulder with his, “Rip, I believe you already know who’s who.”
“Of course,” he gave them a nod, clearing his throat, “I’ve heard a lot about you. All of you. I would shake your hands if I had access to either one of them,” he added, shooting Sara a look, the latter ignoring it in favour of making faces to her namesake.
“It’s great to meet you, Rip,” Oliver nodded, holding his beer in greeting.
“Yeah, man. You’ve got a pretty cool ship,” Barry added, looking around himself in awe, “Didn’t get to see much of it last time.”
“Speaking of,” Diggle started with a frown, “We didn’t meet you then. Y’know, when we’re fighting aliens. I can’t believe those words left my mouth,” he added, mostly to himself.
“I can’t believe they did either,” Quentin muttered, patting Diggle on the back.
“Ah, yes,” Rip cleared his throat, switching his beer from one to the other so he could rub the back of his neck, ‘I was… unavailable at the time, actually.”
They all stared back at him, their eyebrows raised to their hairlines as if silently asking what could be more important than helping his team fight off an invasion of aliens. Rip kept his attention onto his beer while they stayed quiet. Sara – dear, beautiful Sara – put an end to the uncomfortable silence and held out her arms to the youngest Diggle, squirming the latter squirming in her mother’s arms as if trying to escape. He watched, mesmerized, as Sara put the toddler onto her hip without taking her arm away from his. Someone cleared out their throat and Rip’s attention turned back to the group in front of him.
“And… you’re a Time Traveller, is that it?” Joe prompted a change of subject and Rip could’ve hugged him.
“Master, actually,” he automatically corrected, letting himself breathe again, “And I was. The term doesn’t apply anymore since the Vanishing Point has been blown out. Semantics,” he quickly added when met with blank spaces.
“So you’re pretty much the last of your kind? Like Doctor Who?” Barry exclaimed as he excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, only stopping when Joe put an end on his shoulder.
“One of the few, actually,” Rip answered, frowning at the comparison, “And contrary to your precious Doctor, I am very much human, “ he added, throwing at Sara when she scoffed, “Actually, I’m hoping to make Time Masters out of them,” he nodded toward the blonde stuck to his side.
He was vaguely aware of the discussion going on between Oliver and Diggle, concerning the realness of time travel. From the amused smirk plastered onto the former’s face, he guessed than it was easier for Mr Queen to get used to the strangeness of the situation than it was for Mr Diggle.
“Good luck with that,” Quentin snorted, pulling him out of his thoughts, “God knows what you had in mind when you formed this team.
“Aye,” Rip agreed, clicking the neck of his bottle to Quentin’s, “I ask myself the same question everyday.”
Sipping on his beer, he didn’t acknowledge the glare Sara was sending him, his attention focused onto a commotion happening in the corner of the ship.
“You know you love us, Hunter.”
“Don’t know where you got that idea, picking you lot made my life even more difficult than it already was,” Rip retorted after swallowing the alcohol. He frowned as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, “OY! Where are you going now?!”
Sara looked up at the exclamation and followed Rip’s gaze, finding the reason of his outburst. The previous group of nerds and geeks had enlarged itself, now containing Jax, Kara, Thea and Iris. She frowned when she realized that, for some reason, Nate had steeled on. As if small children being chastised, the entire group had stopped, their previous enthusiasm suddenly gone. Except for Ray’s and Nate’s, which did nothing to reassure Sara.
“We’re going to see who’s stronger between Kara and myself,” Nate replied, bouncing in excitement.
“Oh really? And how and where do you plan to do that?” Rip sarcastically retorted. As Nate went to answer, he held out a hand, stopping him, “That was rhetorical, Dr Heywood. I’ve been told of the circumstances of your training with Dr Palmer and its following consequences. You must’ve gone absolutely bonkers if you think you’re going to fight onto this ship.”
“Yeah, I’m with Rip on this, guys. Plus, no offense Nate, but you wouldn’t last a second against her. She’s called Supergirl for a reason,” Sara intervened.
Kara hummed approvingly and, like the dork that she was, put both of her fists on her hips as she turned to shot a smug smirk at Nate, the latter pouting.
“But that happened in the temporal zone!” Ray protested, frowning, “We’re in the present and on ground, Nate won’t be falling through time and into Feudal Japan this time.”
“Exactly, which is why you can try and go kill each other outside of the Waverider,” Sara said, soothingly rubbing the back of the whining toddler.
Rip’s head sharply turned to her, his eyes wide-opened at the suggestion and deaf to the group’s disturbing cheers. Sara responded with an indifferent shrug.
“Who’s going to try to get himself killed? Ooh, can I watch? Can I try?’
He didn’t notice Mick and Lisa re-entering the bridge until they were both standing by his side, the younger Snart smirking as she twirled a dark curl around her finger while Mick looked his usual interested self, a half eaten hot dog in his hand. From the corner of his eyes, he could see both Quentin and Joe reaching for their guns, remembering only a second too late that they hadn’t take it with them. Sara matched Lisa’s smirk and Rip looked up to the heavens, as if hoping for some sort of divine intervention.
“No one’s going to try to get himself or herself killed,” he gritted through clenched teeth, “Now, what do you want?”
“The armoury. What are the access codes?” Mick grumbled, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.
“Why the bloody hell would you need the access codes to the armoury?” Rip asked, rubbing his temples.
“It’s getting dark outside. We need to step up the fireworks,” he shrugged,-“Y’know, I’m just asking to be polite.”
“And I’m saying this with all due respect, Mr Rory. There is absolutely no way I will ever trust you with flammable and explosive flying rockets,” Rip retorted.
“I’ll be here to watch over him,” Lisa assured, her arms crossed as she watched the exchange with amusement.
“Oh good, in that case, I don’t see why I shouldn’t give them to you right away,” Rip deadpanned.
Having already lost interested in the argument, Mick focused his attention onto the group that had abandoned the idea of watching a match between Kara and Nate and was listening to the discussion, curious. Mick’s gaze went from one person to another, his eyes narrowed in thought before he slowly made his way to them, ignoring Rip’s protests as he snatched the beer out of his hands.
“You’re supposed to be geniuses, right?” he asked, downing the rest of the beer in one-go. He rolled his eyes when they all exchanged glances, as if silently asking if they were talking to them, “Look, can one of you get passed those codes?”
“Well of course,” Winn scoffed, offended of having his talents questioned, “But what is in for us?”
“Eternal gratitude, personal satisfaction, the fact you succeeded in hacking a spaceship,” Mick listed, “I don’t know and I don’t care. Can one of you do it?”
“First of all, it’s a time ship,” Jax corrected, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, “And sure, I’m game. What about you, guys?”
“Okay, this isn’t fair. You know every inch of this ship. You’ve got an unfair advantage,” Cisco protested, to which Winn agreed.
“If you boys don’t feel like you’ve got what it takes, we’ll understand,” Felicity intervened, patting them on the back in mock sympathy, “I, on the other hand, am always up for a challenge,” she added, cracking her fingers.
Jax smirked before turning on his heels and walking off the bridge, closely followed by Felicity. Both Winn and Cisco exchanged a look before storming after the others, each trying to outrace the other. With a victorious smirk, Mick shoved the empty bottle back into Rip’s hand and walked off with Lisa on his heels, the latter patting the bewildered Captain’s cheek as she passed him by. Kara, Thea and Iris silently joined their group, the latter immediately going to her boyfriend and father’s sides while Thea stuck to her brother’s and Kara stopped next to Sara.
“This was a terrible idea,” Rip let out, once he had composed himself.
“Awful,” Sara agreed with him, gently squeezing his arm in support.
“I should never listen to you,” he continued, shaking his head, “Nothing good ever comes out of me listening to you.”
Sara hummed in agreement, to placate him. She caught Oliver’s narrowed eyes staring at her and cocked an eyebrow at him, slightly irritated by his scrutiny. He responded with a shake of head, a knowing smile plastered on his face. She wanted to slap that smile off his face so badly. Letting out a sigh, Sara broke the stare-off and cleared her throat, focusing her attention back onto the drooling toddler in her arms.
“Well,” Kara breathed out, her cheeks puffed, “My bet’s on Winn.”
Grinning, she exchanged high-fives with James and J’onn when both gave an approving nod. Barry let out a scoff, an arm wrapped around Iris’ shoulders
“While I don’t doubt Winn’s abilities, have you met Cisco? I mean, come on: let’s be real.”
“Have you met Felicity?” Thea countered, crossing her arms, “She’ll have that armoury opened in a matter of seconds.
“Amen to that,” Diggle said, raising his drink in her direction. Thea mimicked the gesture.
“Seriously, guys?” Sara intervened, tired and slightly annoyed. All felt silent at the small reprimand, their heads bowed down, “This discussion is ridiculous and pathetic. Jax is the one I’m putting my money on: he does know the ship best,” Sara smirked at their outraged cries, “GET OUT YOUR WALLETS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: I’M GOING TO BE RICH!”
Rip snorted.
“You’re all ridiculous : none of them are going to succeed in unlocking the armoury’s doors since Gideon won’t let them,” he snorted, smirking in satisfaction.
Sara scoffed and rolled her eyes at him, unable to stop her amused smile. Of course they wouldn’t. That explained why he had put much of a fight earlier. Turning away from him, she was met with blank and confused stares. Barry seemed to be the exception, his eyes widened opened and a grin plastered on his face.
“No way, you’ve got your own Gideon?”
“Wait, who’s Gideon?” Thea asked, her brown furrowed in confusion.
Rip’s smirk widened as he looked up at the ceiling.
“That would be me, Ms Queen,” the A.I’s response echoed through the ship and made more than a few people jumped in surprise. Sara couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped her lips at their reactions, “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Gideon,” Thea retorted, her grin matching Barry’s?
“Please, tell me I’m not the only hearing that voice,” Diggle pleaded, his eyes closed.
“I assure you Mr Diggle, I’m not the result of a hallucination,” Gideon replied, her tone slightly amused, “I’d like to think that I’m my own person, Mr Allen. But as for your question, I’ll only say this: I’m merely an improvement from your Gideon.”
“Cool,” Barry whispered, his grin almost splitting his face in two before he cleared his throat and added louder, “It’s good to hear you, Gideon.”
“Not as much as it is to hear you, Mr Allen,” she returned, her tone warm.
“Now that you’ve had your heartfelt reunion, we can focused on more important matters, Gideon,” Rip intervened, the corner of his mouth lifting up to form a half smile, “Namely making sure Mr Rory doesn’t get his hands on fireworks.”
“Are you insinuating that I would let them in merely for my own entertainment, Captain?” Gideon asked, her tone falsely offended, “That would be dreadful etiquette.”
“Indeed, it would and I wouldn’t dare suggesting anything of the sort. However, I do know how you get when bored,” he retorted, rocking back and forth on his feet.
“Oh believe me, they’re providing enough entertainment for it to be impossible for me to get bored. Should I warn them that any of their attempts would only result in failure, Captain?”
“Eh, maybe in 15 or 20 minutes,” Rip shrugged, his smile stretching onto his entire face, “Let them have their fun. Have yours, Gideon.”
“Roger that, Captain.”
Rip couldn’t help but snort, fondly shaking his head at the A.I’s eagerness. As he looked back to their guests, he was met with a mix of wonder, amusement and confusion. Diggle looked down right terrified, he remarked. His gaze mindlessly racking through the various people gathered around the ship, it stopped when noticing a lone figure, leaning against a wall and silently observing her surroundings with a keen eye. His head tilted to the side, he narrowed his eyes at her before looking down at Sara, the latter looking back at him, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. She squeezed his arm as if to encourage him. Letting out a sigh, Rip returned his eyes to where he had noticed the loner, almost relieved when finding out she hadn’t move.
“Excuse me,” he announced loudly, detangling his arm from Sara as he began to work from the group, “It was nice to meet all of you,” he added, for good measure.
With her newly freed arm, Sara adjusted her hold on the youngest – now sleeping – Diggle and watched, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, as Rip hesitantly made his way to her, mostly oblivious to the conversation going on or the look her father was currently sending her.
“Oliver, the guy had an entire discussion with his ship, do not tell me calm down-”
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Eve Baxter’s head snapped up toward him, the slight widening of her eyes being the only thing betraying her surprise. Rip tried a smile and was relieved when she shot him a genuine one in return. She pushed herself off the wall and went to meet him. There was something strange in seeing a fellow Time Master walk freely in his ship. There also was something strangely comforting in seeing Eve Baxter.
“I couldn’t refuse free food or booze, even if it meant associating with your band of hooligans, Hunter,” Eve countered, lifting her half empty bottle of Corona for him to see.
“What are you doing here? Not that I mean I’m minding your presence, it’s just-“
“Fucking weird?” she offered, the ghost of a smirk on her lips. She let out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle at Rip’s nod, “Your co-captain invited me, actually. She’s quite persistent, this one,” she remarked, cocking an eyebrow.
Rip snorted, getting rid of his empty bottle in exchange of a fresh one. He opened without any struggles and slowly began to work in direction of his study, silently inviting her to follow him.
“You have no idea,” he muttered.
“By the way, I hadn’t take you for one to share, especially this,” Eve said, matching his stride.
“Well it was mostly out of necessity, really,” he explained, skidding to a stop when they reached their destination, “But it turned out pretty alright.”
Eve hummed, taking a sip of her beer and letting herself slide onto the stairs. Letting out a sigh, Rip sat down next to her, his own bottle dangerously dangling from his fingers.
“I can see that,” she nodded, “You and your merry bands of misfits has improved since the last time I’ve seen you. You must’ve been pretty busy after blowing up the Vanishing Point.”
Rip’s eyes widened at the nonchalant statement, finding himself speechless as he stared at her. Eve didn’t seem to be bothered by his staring nor his stunned silent. She had expected it, he realized as he noticed the beginning of a smirk at the corner of her mouth. Surprisingly, her tone hadn’t been reproachful, nor was her smirk disdainful. Eve had simply stated a fact and seemed, now, amused by his reaction.
“Oh come on, Rip. Close that gaping mouth of yours,” she snickered, “Who else would dare?” Eve added, waggling her eyebrows at him.
Rip’s mouth snapped shut, his teeth crashing together in a loud ‘clank’. Rubbing his jaw, he took a sip of his beer before clearing his throat. Blowing the Vanishing Point had been kind of an impulsive decision, thinking of the greater good rather that the consequences that would result from his actions. Neither had he thought about the other – now former – Time Masters away on missions.
“Ah. How have you been, uh, doing, by the way?” All of you, he added inwardly.
“You mean without any orders or directions?” Eve shrugged, taking a swing of her drink, “I mean, pretty well considering. We’re all technically ‘Time Vigilantes’, operating without a higher authority. We’ve got our ships and enough resources, so there’s that.”
“Ah. Well, sorry about that,” he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Eve was quick to assure, running her fingers through her hair, “I’m sure you’ve had your reasons to do what you did. Maybe it was for the best,” she muttered to herself, playing with the bottle between her hands.
Rip frowned down at her, trying to reconcile the person sitting next to him to the Captain bent on respecting the rules he had briefly heard during his assignments and had officially met when being captured during her rescue mission. He sighed and tore his gaze from Eve, focusing onto the party going on around them.
“You know,” Rip started, his head tilted to the side, “We could always use a second proper Time Master around here,” he shrugged in mock nonchalance, throwing her a quick look from the corner of his eye.
Eve mimicked his head tilt and pursed her lips, humming in thought.
“Tempting,” she admitted, the corner of her mouth twitching up, “I’ll have to pass, though. I don’t work well with others and no matter how nice the Waverider is, the Acheron owns my heart. Plus, I’ve been putting a lot of thoughts into settling down,” Eve confessed, her bottom stuck into her teeth. When meeting Rip’s surprised look, she scoffed, “You’re no special snowflake, Hunter. And I’m thinking that some time off would be nice.”
Rip snorted and gave her a small nod, stretching his legs in front of him and balancing his beer onto his knee.
“Well, that’s a noble decision for you to make. And if you ever need any help-” he started, holding his drink in front of him.
Eve shot him a small smile in return, knocking her bottle into his.
“Then, I’ll know who to call.”
Her legs dangling from the ship, Sara let out a satisfied sigh, watching as Joe, Jimmy, J’onn and her father – the elected responsible adults – began to plant the fireworks while Oliver and Diggle had designated themselves to work on the s’mores. The rest of them sat at the edge of the Waverider, enjoying the calm moment and night summer breeze. Sara looked up at the darkening sky, pushing back her hair out of her eyes as she looked for the first star of the night. Jax nudging her side and handing her a stick of melted marshmallows interrupted her observation, which she accepted with a smile. Jax returned the smile, widening it into a grin when his gaze caught something behind her shoulder. He shifted his s’mores into his other hand, using the other as a makeshift megaphone.
“Captain off the bridge!”
All heads swivelled at the call, the Waverider crew whistling and cheering when noticing the arrival of Rip. The latter rolled his eyes, stiffening a smile as he stared back at Jax, unimpressed, to which the younger man responded with a smirk. Letting out a sigh, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over his arm before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Sara gave him a small wave when his gaze fell onto her, green eyes met blue. Had she been staring for that long, she thought to herself before breaking the stare-off and focusing onto her swinging legs. From the corner of her eye; Sara could see him getting closer, only to be stopped by Jax handing him his own stick of melted marshmallows.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Rip groaned and Sara didn’t have to look up at him to picture the disgusted frown plastered on his face.
“S’mores, man,” Jax replied enthusiascally, undeterred by Rip’s disdain, “Come on, it’s better than it looks, I promise. You gotta live the full American 4th of July experience. Fun, remember?”
Rip grumbled something that Sara couldn’t understand before snatching the stick of sugary good out of Jax’s hand, the latter proudly satisfied. It shouldn’t be surprising: Jax had something that got Rip to do everything the younger man wanted. To be honest, the youngest Legend got his way with everyone in the crew. Sara let a smile gracing her face before she turned her gaze back to the now starry sky. She didn’t tear her eyes away from it when Rip sat down next to her with a grunt, wearily eyeing the treat Jax had given him.
“And how the hell I’m supposed to eat that?”
“With your mouth and teeth,” Sara retorted, biting into her own as if to demonstrate.
Sara met his blank stare and sent him a close-lipped smile, her cheeks puffed with marshmallows. Rolling his eyes at her, he took a tentative bite and let out a surprised, appreciative hum, the sound earning a chuckle from Sara. Swallowing the gooey substance in her mouth, she sucked on the marshmallow that had melted on her thumb.
“So,” she started, shivering at a sudden strong gush of wind, “Still think that today was a bad idea?”
“Oh yes,” Rip affirmed, his eyebrows up as he looked back at her.
Skilfully balancing the stick between two fingers, he used his other hand to wrap his jacket over her shoulders. A small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, Sara kept quiet as he adjusted it around her smaller frame, pulling up the collar so it covered her neck.
“But I’ll admit, it had its good moments. And surprises,” Rip added, his tone meaningful as he cocked an eyebrow at her.
“So it was a good idea,” Sara insisted, chuckling at his persistence.
“Here, let’s compromise: it was a pretty… good bad idea,” he said, smirking down at her.
Sara’s nose wrinkled at the oxymora and cocked an eyebrow at him. Rip stared back at her and mimicked her expression, earning a snort and shake of head.
“Alright,” she sighed, stealing a – now – cold marshmallow off his stick, “It was a pretty good bad idea.”
Rip’s smirk into a grin as he gave her an approving nod and nudged her shoulder with his. Sara returned the nudge with a smile of her own, adjusting the falling jacket onto her shoulders and burying her nose in the collar, her eyes locked into his. And if Rip’s green gaze darkened at the small gesture, no one remarked on it. They broke their stare off at the loud of fireworks being fired and loud cheers of their comrades, looking up at the explosion of colours lighting the dark sky. Throwing Rip a quick look, Sara couldn’t help the fond smile that appeared on her lips at his awed expression as he stared at the bright sparks. He looked so different, then. Unguarded. Unburdened. Happy. As she rested her head onto his shoulder, her gaze turned upward, Sara found herself hoping for more pretty good bad ideas in the future.
Sara yawned as she made her way through the dark Waverider, running her fingers through her tangled hair. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the crew was still asleep. It was, after all, 5 in the morning, what normal person would be up that early when they could sleep in? The response was simple. Sara would. Not that she had realised it was 5 when she woke up – after months of time travelling, keeping track of the actual time had been getting hard. Her stomach had been the one waking her up, which was why she was walking to the kitchen, looking to satisfy her hunger.
“Gideon, lights at 50%, please,” Sara muttered, stiffening another yawn as she entered the kitchen.
Her eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, she began rummaging through the cupboards and got a couple of cookie boxes out of it before getting a bottle of milk out of the fridge. Putting all of her goods onto the table, she made her way to the coffee machine only to find out that the device had already been turned on. Tilting her head, she frowned at it.
“Gideon-“
“Seeing the early hour, I took the liberty of starting a fresh pot of coffee, Captain Lance,” the A.I intervened, her tone smug.
Sara snorted, shaking her head before she turned back and took her cup off the drying dish rack, her lips pursed in thought before she decided to take off before taking the six other mugs off of it and putting them on the table. She, then, grabbed the coffee pot of its sock before staring at the other stuff she had laid on the table with a grimace, thinking of the trips she would have to make between the bridge and the kitchen. Letting a sigh, Sara pushed back her hair and grabbed one of the cookie boxes, putting in her mouth so she could grab the bottle of milk with her free hand. Glaring at the mug she had left on the kitchen counter, she slowly bent down and hooked the handle with her pinkie finger.
A victorious smirk plastered on her face, Sara shuffled out of the kitchen and to the bridge, her grip steady on the steaming coffee pot and the cookie box safely secured between her teeth. She let out a sigh of relief and grumbled a thank you at the ship’s dedicated A.I when the lights immediately turned off in the kitchen and on as she arrived on the bridge. Dropping the cookies and milk bottle onto the Captain’s chair, she let out a satisfied sigh as the weight of the box left her mouth. After clenching and unclenching her fingers, she poured herself a – well-earned, if you asked her, after all that unnecessary effort in 5 in the freaking morning – cup of coffee, putting the pot onto the command board. Pushing away the bottle of milk and box of cookies away, she dropped into the chair, her eyes closing in contentment as she leaned back into it, one leg under her and her warm mug close to her chest. That was when she heard the muttering.
Frowning, she straightened in her chair, her eyes snapping open at the noise, alert. Her frown deepened when she realized the noise had come from the study across from her. Which was actually occupied, if the lights and voices that came from it were anything to go by. Sara’s stance relaxed when she noticed the tall and lanky form of one Rip Hunter pacing the length of his office his familiar trench coat draped over his chair. A small smile tugging at her lips, she got up from the chair, grabbing her cookie boxes as she made her away to the study and making sure that her steps would be loud enough to not startle him. Expectedly, Rip was too caught in whatever he was doing to notice her standing in the entrance. She used his obliviousness to her advantage, taking the time to observe him.
He didn’t look like he had been sleeping much, judging by the dark bags under his eyes and his continuous restrained yawns. Not that he was one to sleep much before but it seemed worse. His hair looked like a bird nest and he had ditched his usual Captain-Time Master attire, replacing by a casual black shirt and worn out sweatpants. Sara tried not to stare at the prodding ribs she could count through his shirt. She took comfort in seeing him always in movement; it contrasted with the way his brainwashed self had been always so still, deadlike. It reminded her that he was back and well. Well, for the most part.
Judging that she had stared for long enough, she gave a soft knock, smiling when Rip looked up at her, his eyes wide-opened.
“Been a long time since someone’s been here,” Sara commented lightly, dropping her box of cookies on the desk as she entered the study.
“Has it really?” Rip cocked an eyebrow at her before turning back to the mess currently residing on his desk.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing most of our work in the library,” she said, sitting on the couch’s armrest and sipping on her coffee, “Plus, it felt kinda weird coming in here without you. It’s always been your space,” she added with a nonchalant shrug.
It had been weird to enter his study. It was almost like entering the bedroom of someone who had died recently. A few days after Rip’s disappearance and Sara being appointed as the new Captain of the Waverider, she had tried to come in here to work. She had sat at his desk, put some of his vinyls when the silence was suffocating and read and re-read his personal notes, hoping she would pick on something most had overlook. But the office had still been too empty, too quiet. After that, Sara had decided to move in the library, where the others had unconsciously relocated to, ignoring the dark, empty and unused office on the bridge. Somehow, both Amaya and Nate had known better than ask about it.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Sara sighed, plastering a small, reassuring smile when a frowning Rip looked up at her, and ripped open the box of cookies next to her.
“What are you working you at such an ungodly hour?” she asked, shoving a cookie into her mouth.
“Uh… Nothing too important,” Rip dismissed with a wave of hand. Rolling his eyes at Sara’s unconvinced look, he sighed, “Just trying to make sense of things in there,” he added, tapping his temple with his pen, “What got you up at such an ungodly hour?”
She responded with raising both of her cup of coffee and box of cookies, cocking an eyebrow at him. Rip huffed out a laugh, shaking his head at her antics. Sara couldn’t help but smile victoriously at the soft noise, reminiscent of better times. Swallowing her food with a gulp of coffee, she jumped off the couch and made her way to him. She frowned as she watched him organize pieces of paper into two different columns.
“ ‘real’ or ‘not real’?” Sara read, her tone hesitant as her frown deepened.
“Uh, yes,” Rip cleared her throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “Like I said, I’m just trying to make sense.”
Sara hummed, taking another sip of coffee as she read what he had put under the two different categories. She froze as she noticed the ‘I killed Sara’ note put under the ‘real’ column. Nibbling on her bottom teeth, she threw a quick look at Rip, the latter being too focused on his papers to notice, before taking it away and shoving it in her pocket. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed loudly.
“Well, do you need help with it?”
“I don’t think so,” he frowned, tilting his head to the side as he observed his work, “Well, maybe to fill the gaps. And to return things you’ve taken,” he added, holding out a hand without looking at her.
Sara blinked at him, her hands automatically finding their way to the pockets of her sweater. At Rip’s expectant look, she casually shoved her hands in her pockets and tilted her head to the side, her eyes wide in mock innocence.
“I haven’t taken anything,”
“Please,” Rip snorted, rolling his eyes, “I might not be at my best right now and be able to rely on my mind at the moment, but I’m no fool, Miss Lance. I have also happened to share living quarters with a pair of accomplished thieves for the better part of a year. Hand it over,” he sighed, making a ‘gimme’ gesture with his hand.
Sara restrained an amused smile at his, oh so familiar, done with and no-non-sense attitude, settling for a defiant scowl. Her grip tightened around the slip of paper hidden in pocket as he stared back at her, his expression undeterred, annoyingly patient and determined.
“So what? So you can wallow over it?” Sara countered, her tone taunting.
“So I can remember, make sure that it really happened,” he corrected, his eyebrows jumping higher on his forehead.
“Potato, potahto,’” she shot back, crossing her arms.
She smirked at Rip’s dramatic eye roll, his jaw clenched. Her lips pursed, she reluctantly took the creased paper out of her pocket, batting his hands when he tried to reach for it. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she unfolded it and placed in between the two columns with a content nod to herself. Looking up, she was met with Rip’s confused look, to which she responded with a smile and shrug.
“You did kill me,” she reluctantly admitted, raising a hand when he went to open his mouth, “And technically, it wasn’t. So it’s going to stay there. Want a cookie?”
He widened his eyes at the sudden change of subject, his eyes darting to the box of cookies she had been in front of herself before he looked back at her, his eyes narrowed at her. She returned the look, shaking the box while waiting for him to pick one out of it.
“Come on, you’re lucky I’m even offering you one. This is from my special and secret cookie’s stash. It’s a one-time offer. You’re not allowed to wallow, though or else, you’ll ruin the taste of it.”
With a small scoff, he threw one cookie into her mouth, chewing it loudly as if to prove a point. Snorting, she gave his arm a light punch and stuffed a couple of cookies in her mouth, pulling his desk chair as she downed the food with her now-cold coffee. Grimacing at the taste, she plopped down in the chair, her bare feet propped on the corner of his desk. Rip, too preoccupied by his task to care, didn’t have blink an eye or utter a complaint. Sara kept to herself, watching as Rip took a step back and observed his paper-covered desk through narrowed eyes, her gaze darting to his notes every now and then. She smiled to herself as Rip silently took a cookie, not bothering to ask as he leaned over to reach for the box. She pushed the box closer to him and held her cup of coffee in a silent question. Rip wrinkled his nose in distaste and shook his head in response, earning an eye roll from Sara. She had missed it, the weird way they communicated without having to say a word. She had missed coming in his office to watch him work, sometimes offering her help and counsel. She had missed watching him unconsciously moving his head to whatever vinyl she would put on, some times humming in approval and others, frowning in disapprobation.
Her gaze racking through the notes, Sara’s eyes widened and she coughed, choking on the cookie in her mouth.
“Are you alright?” Rip looked up at her, frowning in concern.
She nodded, waving him off as she got up from her chair, coughing into he closed fist. Clearing her throat, she downed the rest of her coffee before turning back to Rip, the latter staring back at her with a combination of confusion and concern.
“You kissed Gideon?!” Sara croaked out, her eyes wide-opened in astonishment.
Rip gaped at her, letting a small ‘oh’ of realization before looking back at his desk, scratching his scruff. His gaze stayed on the paper, unfocused as he tried to avoid Sara’s wide, inquisitive stare. Clearing his throat, he tipped his head to the side.
“It was in the spur of a moment,” he muttered with a nonchalant shrug, “My mind was desecrating, I didn’t know if I would make it and- what the hell is that face for?” Rip frowned down at Sara, the latter sulking with her arms crossed, the perfect picture of a petulant child.
Brushing back her hair with a sigh, she shrugged.
“Nothing, just- I wanted to be the one to kiss Gideon,” she shrugged again when noticing Rip’s disbelieved look, “What? She was hot.”
Shaking his head at her, he let out a snort and, running his fingers through his hair, leaned back against his desk, an eyebrow cocked and a smirk on his face.
“Gideon, Nyssa, the Queen of France: It’s like you’re on a mission to get involved with every woman you meet, no matter the time or place,” Rip teased.
“So many beautiful women, so little time,” Sara lamented, “Oh, let’s not forget Queen Guinevere,” she added with a snap of her fingers.
Rip’s amused expression vanished, only to be replaced by a scowl.
“You’ve got to be joking,” he deadpanned.
“Well, you can’t have Guinevere without her Lance-a lot,” Sara retorted with a curtsy, emphasizing on her name,
Rip scoffed and rolled his eyes, earning a snicker from the smaller woman. Taking a cookie out of the box, she threw it in the air and caught with her mouth, waggling her eyebrows in victory at an amused Rip. Swallowing the small biscuit, she stood on her toes and rested her elbow on the former Time Master’s shoulder, to which the latter responded with a raised eyebrow.
“So, during that kiss you shared with Gideon,” she started, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Did you feel… a spark? Was it electric-“
Rip groaned loudly, pushing her elbow off his shoulder while Sara laughed, apparently very amused with her jokes. Undeterred, she wrapped both of her arms around his and her chin went to rest on his shoulder. He threw her an exasperated look, to which she responded with a wide, innocent grin.
“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Captain,” he deadpanned.
“Oh no, I’m hilarious and you know it!” Sara shot back, poking his side, “You’re just jealous.”
“Am I really, now?” he barked out a laugh.
Sara nodded, her grin widening at the sound and her hold on his arm tightening. Rip’s expression softened as he stared down at her, his bright eyes shining with pride and something else she couldn’t identify. Clearing her throat, she tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her ear, resting her head on his arm – breaking their stare-off.
“Hey Sara?”
Both of their heads snapped up at the new, familiar voice. Amaya stood in the doorway, her gaze darting from one person to another. Clearing her throat, Sara slowly – reluctantly - detangled her arms from Rip’s, talking a few steps away from him. Rip crossed his arms, as if to make up for the loss.
“What’s up, Amaya?” Sara asked, falling back into her chair.
“Um…” she blinked at the duo a couple of times before shaking her head and plastering a smile on her face, “Nothing. I was just looking for the coffee pot.”
“Oh,” Sara leaned back, bringing a leg up and resting her head on her knee, “You’ll find it on the command board. You’ll have to heat it, though. Or make a fresh brew,” she added with a small grimace, ignoring Rip’s muttering about sloppiness and coffee stains being hard to get rid off.
Amaya gave Sara a small nod before turning on her heels and walking away. Stopping midstride, she twirled back around, her hands clasped in front of her and her head tilted to the side as she walked back to them.
“Is there anything I can get you, Mr Hunter, some tea, coffee?” she proposed, nervously wringing her hands.
Rip blinked at her, taken aback by the unprompted offer, before looking down at Sara, as if looking for her approval. Looking as surprised as him, she responded with a clueless shrug. Glancing back at Amaya, the latter patiently waiting for an answer, he nodded, his lips quirked in a half smile.
“A cup of tea would be much appreciated, Miss Jiwe. And there’s no need for such formalities, you can call me Rip.”
“Then I’ll believe that you can call me Amaya,” she returned, her smile genuine and her tone slightly teasing.
Letting out a small chuckle, Rip tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement, while Sara watched the entire exchange with obvious amusement. After Amaya had taken her leave, he looked down at her and cocked an eyebrow in question. She snorted.
“You’re so ridiculously British, it’s hilarious,” she muttered.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Rip frowned.
“ ‘A cup of tea would be much appreciated’, ‘there’s no need for such formalities’,” Sara repeated in a parody of his British accent, taking pleasure in his horrified expression, “You’re always so proper and polite.”
Rip rolled his eyes at her, stuffing a stolen cookie into his mouth.
“Well, someone has to be. Have you met yourselves?”
Lifting her head, Sara let out a dramatic gasp and tried to kick him in the shin, pouting when he easily dodged the hit. Glaring at his smug look, she went to take out a cookie, only to be met with the empty, bottom of the box. Sighing, she got up and went to get the second box she had discarded on his couch when entering earlier. A piece of paper with her name written on it caught her attention. Oblivious to Rip’s staring, she slowly traced the words graved into the paper with her finger.
Captain Sara Lance.
When she looked back at Rip, the latter was too busy pretending to be engrossed in his work to meet her gaze. Picking the paper, she shoved it in her pocket and ripped open her new box of cookies, slowly making her way back to her chair.
“Why did you take it off?” he muttered, not bothering to look up at her.
Standing next to him instead of sitting back down, she dropped the box of cookies next to him and shrugged in fake-nonchalance, pretending that a simple piece of paper wasn’t burning the tip of her fingers.
“You’re back, I suppose I have to step back since the rightful Captain of the Waverider has returned,” Sara retorted, her tone slightly bitter. Swearing inwardly at the slip, she ignored Rip’s knowing stare and plastered a smile on her face, “I was only the Acting Captain when you’re gone.”
“And I was gone for a long time,” Rip sighed, “A time during which you’ve stepped in and proved yourself to be quite the Captain, Miss Lance. I’m not stupid nor clueless, I’m aware that things have changed a lot in my absence, starting with the arrival of Dr Heywood and Miss Jiwe. Maybe, some of those changes were for the better,” he added, his tone light as he nudged her shoulder with his.
Sara’s smile turned a bit more genuine at the affectionate gesture before turning into a frown, her fingers tightening around the paper, as if thinking that he couldn’t possibly take it away from her if she held onto it hard enough.
“It’s still your ship, none of us know the Waverider like you do, ” Sara insisted, “You’re still the official Captain and this is still your crew.”
“We’ll agree to disagree on that,” Rip snorted, “Let’s be honest, they listen to you more than they’ve ever listened to me. And I’m pretty sure I lost my title of Captain after blowing up the Vanishing Point,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. Noticing that it did nothing to ease her internal turmoil, he sighed, “Miss Lance, do you enjoy being Captain?”
Sara was slightly taken aback by the question. Never, since she had stepping into Rip’s shoes, had she thought about it. After all, they had been in a rush and she had done mostly out of necessity and urgency. She had slowly begun to understand what being Captain actually entailed; the responsibilities she had seen Rip shoulder like a second coat in the last year as his second. Still, she hadn’t expected to actually like it and for some reason, she did. Maybe it was the prestige and respect that came with the title. Maybe it was the fact that she had finally succeeded in doing something good in her life.
“I do,” Sara breathed out, nodding, “I really do.”
“Well then,” Rip retorted, a small smile on his face, “you’ve got your answer, Captain.”
“What about you?” she shot back, her arms crossed against her chest.
His brow furrowed in confusion, he mimicked her stance and tilted his head to the side.
“What about me?”
“Didn’t you enjoy being Captain?” she shrugged, throwing his previous question back at him.
She watched his jaw clench, almost expecting him to shut down and begin to ignore her. Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed and lifted a shoulder.
“That’s all I’ve ever known,” he admitted, his green eyes glazed as he reminisced, “Ever since I’ve been a lad. My whole life has been shaped with the idea that I would become,” he made a vague gesture with his hand around himself, “this. A Time Master, a Captain. I don’t know if I enjoyed it, though. You lot certainly didn’t make it easy,” he shot Sara a look, to which she responded with an eye roll, “Still, I wouldn’t know how to do anything else.”
Giving him a small smile, Sara nodded in understanding.
“I don’t know about that. You were a pretty decent film student,” she teased with a gentle nudge, her smile widening at his bark of laughter, “you made me the hero of your movie. Clearly, you know what you were doing. You were a pretty decent Captain, too, by the way.”
“Was I really?” he retorted, his tone dubious.
“Well, you… had your moments!”
Rip laughed at the remark, the sound comforting. Sara could count on one hand the times she actually heard Rip actually laugh. He often snorted in amusement and, every now and then, he would snicker. Hearing him laugh had been a rare thing, which led to Jax, Ray and herself to start a tally and bet on who would succeed in making him laugh – Jax and Sara were in a tie, with both two successes. Sara inwardly added a point to her score, watching in awe as Rip composed himself, his laughter dying to leave a grin on his face. She returned the grin and ran her fingers through her hair.
“I mean it, though. None of us would’ve been here if it wasn’t for you, Rip Hunter. I wouldn’t be Captain if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, I’m sure you would’ve manage-“ Rip started, rubbing the back of his head in sudden self-consciousness.
“Oh my God, dude!” Sara interrupted, punching his shoulder, “Learn to take a compliment, a’right? Jesus Christ.”
His eyes wide-opened, he stared at the shoulder she had punched before looking back at her in disbelief.
“…Did you just call me ‘dude’?”
“Urgh, yeah. Whatever, the point is” she brushed his retort with a groan, “you’ve made an impact on every person in this crew and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it. Honestly, did you think that we would’ve been through all of this if you weren’t worth it? Obviously not.”
Rip rolled his eyes at her, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from retorting the quip on the tip of his tongue, and cocked an eyebrow, expectantly staring at her. Sara sighed and grabbed a cookie out of the box, twirling between her fingers.
“I guess what I’m saying is that we need you here. I need you here,” she added after a moment of hesitation, avoiding his inquisitive gaze, “Captaincy, no matter how cool it sounds, is a lot to bear,” she added, her tone lighter.
Narrowing his eyes at her, Rip took a cookie out of the box and held it out in front of him.
“What are you suggesting exactly… The two of us sharing Captaincy?”
“Well, yeah. We work well as a pair,” she nonchalantly shrugged, “I’d be in charge of the team and you’d be in charge of the Waverider. How does that sound to you?”
His lips pursed in thought, he leaned in and, smirking at her intake of breath, reached into her pocket, taking the previously stolen piece of paper out of it. Leaning back, he tore it in two and held the half with her name written on it to her, knocking his cookie into hers as if they were toasting to something. Smiling in amusement at the small gesture, Sara looked up at him and tilted her head to the side, waiting for his answer. Biting into his cookie, he grinned back at her.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sara says quickly, without thinking about it.
Because this is Rip Hunter.
And for all that she feels for him, he is also the king of terrible decisions, which on this team is saying something.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, babe,” Sara says, tilting her head upwards to properly look at him.
Rip’s got that dead serious look on her face, which makes Sara almost feel bad about the fact that she’s sprawled over his bed.
Almost, because his bed is really comfortable.
(Apparently Time Cops got real homes with real beds, who knew?)
“Giving you a key, might have been a bad decision.”
“I would have just broken in,” Sara points out because she totally has before. Which was why he gave her a key in the first place. “Also, a little bit insulted, but you know, ignoring that.”
Rip makes a non-committal noise.
“You’re going to make me ask aren’t you?”
“Well-”
Sara sighs, “Alright then, Captain Hunter, head of the Time Cops, why was it a bad decision to give me a key?”
“Because, Captain Lance, you’re too tempting.”
send me a ship + a prompt (with the words not the #s) and i’ll write you a little drabble!
Well, it’s not no big deal, but she’s had worse and while right now being stabbed in Ancient Greece is probably not the best time and place for it, modern medicine doesn’t quite exist yet, she had always wanted to act out Julius Caesar.
(Or wait? Was that Rome? She wasn’t sure. Nate would know. If she ever made it back to the team, she’d have to ask.)
The world spins for a second, and Sara reaches out to steady herself, her hand hits a stone wall beside her, leaving a blood hand print on the wall.
“Guys,” she says, turning back on her ear piece, hoping somebody would listen. She’d been separated from Jax and Stein, Ray and Nate were involved in whatever was going down in the forum. “I could use a pick up.”
Which meant a pick up had to come from one person.
The one person who had explicitly advised against her going after their target alone and was the exact reason Sara had cut off communication moments before.
Rip.
Rip whose concerned voice now fills her ears, “Are you alright?”
“I’ve been worse.”
This would be the part when he says I told you so.
If there roles were reversed Sara certainly would have, but Rip says no such thing. All she gets is a sigh of relief, soft, barely there and, “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”
time canary + "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me"
She says it as a joke mostly - because this is Rip ‘all the sexual grace of a sea turtle’ Hunter and -
It’s not like she actually thinks it through.
They’re a team, the dynamic duo, the two Captains of this very messed up team and ship, but they’ve never been anything more than that. Sara tried, of course she had, because she doesn’t look at a person and not imagine them without their clothes on, but Rip had smiled in his terribly British way and let her down gently and that was fine.
She could be friends with someone without sleeping with them.
Sara wasn’t sure the last time she had been, but she’d work on it for Rip.
She’d been working on it for Rip.
Rip who had leaned into her space, and brushed her hair back from her face, and was currently looking at her like she hung the moon - or he had been before she’d spoken and the embarrassment had seemed to settle in.
Embarrassed it a cute look on Rip. Regret not so much.
“Hey, I didn’t say I would mind? Being seduced would be nice.”
“Yes - well, I - in that case-”
She kisses him before he has a chance to finish that sentence.
