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“Captain Lance. I came to speak to you about-”, Ava halted mid-sentence, looking up from her time courier to notice that she was speaking to an entire team of Legends, not only the captain she had intended to have an audience with. It wasn’t the number of legends that she found disconcerting, nor was it that the Legends themselves were intimidating, (Ava suspected that it would take every single one of those idiots to change a single light bulb). What took Ava by surprise was the atmosphere of the room, the casual nature in which the group were lounging.
Prior to her interruption, Ray and Nate had been chuckling in the corner at some awful joke, Zari and Charlie were squashed into an altogether too small armchair, wrapped under a fluffy grey blanket and staring intently at Charlie’s phone. Mick had been grumbling good-naturedly at some sports game on television (not that Ava could recognise the sport to save her life; it’s the lesbian in her, she decided) and Sara, well, Sara had been sitting alone in a huge armchair that practically swallowed her whole. The captain’s hair was falling messily onto her bare shoulders, framing her freckled face, which was currently sporting a signature smirk, apparently having noticed Ava hovering awkwardly in the doorway.
The team all looked so relaxed, so domestic, like a perfect little found family; nothing like the Legends that Ava had previously seen in action, or had been expecting to greet when she picked up her time courier. She began to feel a rising panic, the intense fear of intruding, placing herself in an environment where she was the odd person out, the one who didn’t belong. It took her all of five seconds to convince herself that she wasn’t welcome and that her very presence was making the others uncomfortable. Ava’s mind begged her to tap her wrist and escape back to the comfort of her office, a warm space where each and every item belonged and was in its place, including her.
“Well if it isn’t Little Miss Time Bureau herself!” Sara announced snarkily to the room, earning Ava six pairs of eyes on her, each pair thinly veiling a different reaction to her presence; none of which Ava could quite decipher in her frazzled mindset. She felt her cheeks flush and mentally chided herself for the scarce amount of control she was displaying over her anxiety. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” Sara continued, a challenging smirk still on her lips. Her tone wasn’t exactly malicious, but nevertheless, it felt absolutely splitting in the genial atmosphere that had filled the room only moments earlier.
Sara was still lounging comfortably, her legs folded up beneath her so that she was entirely consumed by the chair, though she had leaned forward to rest her chin on her right hand. She looked content and comfortable, snuggled on a warm chair surrounded by her team, completely relaxed aside from her lips, which were pursed as though she was working a particularly tricky equation in her head.
Her left hand clung loosely onto a half-filled glass of whiskey, which she was sloshing around absentmindedly, leaving little damp droplets on the arm of her chair. Ava grimaced at the little mess Sara was making, her mind working overtime to compensate for the discomfort the spillage was causing. Suddenly recalling that the entire room was still staring at her, Ava cleared her throat and straightened her collar, awkwardly addressing the whole crew.
“It's pertinent that I speak with your captain about an urgent matter that has presented itself to the Time Bureau in recent…” She made every effort to ignore Sara, who was unfolding herself from her lounge and walking over to Ava. Almost as if commanded, the rest of the group returned to their previous activities, a gentle chatter filling the room once more. “…days.“ Ava tried to continue, but failed, having lost her train of thought and her composure along with it.
“Do you always speak so…” Sara paused, taking another step closer, “posh?” It was only now that Ava noticed the nature of Sara’s speech. Her words were slightly slurred, and her cheeks a little bit red, tell-tale signs that the captain was, for lack of a better term, sloshed. Ava stammered, perhaps because of the question, or perhaps because Sara’s small figure was but a couple of feet away, swaying loosely in her tipsy state, making it incredibly difficult for Ava to focus.
“No, I…” she began.
“Oh,” Sara smirked. Her pinked cheeks rose all the way up to her eyes and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she took another bold step closer. “so your posh voice is saved especially for me then?”
Ava squeezed her eyes shut and breathed out sharply, taking a step back from the captain.
“You are infuriating, Captain Lance,” she said matter-of-factly, mustering all the composure she could scrape up from within herself.
Sara made a non-committal noise and half-shrugged, a complacent look on her face. She didn’t say anything for a few moments, though her eyes were trained on Ava, studying her face as though trying to force a thought through her alcohol clouded mind. With one blink in Ava’s direction, the pensive look vanished, instantly being replaced by unfounded confidence, a state which disconcerted Ava just a little. Sara smiled and stepped back into Ava’s personal space, intertwining their pinky fingers.
Ava didn’t have time to react before she found herself being tugged across the room, toward an unoccupied armchair. A glass of scotch was plonked in her hand, accompanied by a lopsided, tipsy half-smile from Sara.
“Captain Lance, this is utterly unprofes-“
“Shush.” Sara cut her off in a whiny tone. “Your voice. It’s annoying me.” She sounded almost childish, and looked it too, thanks to the little pout growing on her face. Ava was so taken aback by Sara’s odd display of honesty that she unwittingly obliged, simply opening and closing her mouth soundlessly like a guppy. “You know, you usually don’t ever shut up. I mean, I don’t mind. Some people might but I don’t, don’t know why though. And you speak all uppity, and you always sound grumpy. You use big words all the time. Why? What’s the occasion? Are you connected to a 24/7 conference call, Ava?” Sara rambled, swinging her empty whiskey glass around in the air, not that Ava took much notice.
“...Ava?” Ava stumbled through her name quietly, as though it were foreign.
“Yeah,” Sara said, staring dumbly like Ava had just posed the stupidest question the Captain had ever heard. “That’s your name, isn’t it?” Rhetoric, Ava was careful to notice.
“Yes, but you’ve never called me… never mind.” Ava waved her hand flippantly in despair. Despite being the sober party in the room, Ava’s brain was completely addled by Sara’s antics, so much so that she felt hammered herself. Without much questioning as to whether she had anything to lose by having a drink of her own, she raised the glass Sara had handed her earlier to her lips. She took a deep breath and looked to the sky (or at least in the general direction she considered the sky to be in the temporal zone) as though begging some external force that she didn’t believe in for strength. Exhaling, she braced herself and turned to face Sara again.
“Do you have anything further to add about the way I talk, Captain Lance?” she asked, only a little fed-up. She would admit to being relatively proud of how well she was hiding any amusement that Sara has caused.
“Mmmm…” Sara seemed to really think about her answer before giving it, a little pensive smile creeping onto her face. “Nope. That’s it.” She nodded contently, satisfied with her efforts. “Sit,” she said, smacking the seat next to her.
In her peripheral vision, Ava noticed one of the girls on the other side of the room elbow the other in shock, receiving a quiet bloody hell in response. Ava became aware of the return of that pesky unwelcome feeling of discomfort welling up in her body. She wanted nothing more than to portal straight back to her office, which was certainly what she should have done and was regretting not doing sooner, now that Sara was pulling her down onto a sofa.
Ava turned her hearing back to the other side of the room, catching snippets of conversation not intended for her ears.
“I never thought she’d actually do it.”
“I thought the scary time bureau lady would have punched her out by now.”
“Come on Z, I told you if they-” A teasing smack sounded from the corner, followed by a muffled squeak.
“Shut up Charlie, she’ll hear you! Besides, I only owe you when it actually happens, all they’re doing is sitting.”
“Yeah give it up Char, they’re not even on the same sofa.”
“Give ‘em time yet, you’ll see.”
“Whatever. I told you Agent Hotcakes’d stay if the Cap’n just ballsed up and asked.” came a grumble, responded to with a couple of chuckles and some aggressive shushing from one of the girls.
Ava choked on her whiskey and spluttered, accidentally but effectively silencing the secret not-so-secret conversation in the corner. Desperately trying not to over analyse the information she gathered from her eavesdropping, she focussed all of her attention on Sara, taking in each tiny detail on the captain’s face to ground herself. Sara’s hair was a little messy and had flyaways poking out from every angle, and her lipstick was in dire need of reapplication; faded and smudged a little in the corners. Ava concentrated on Sara’s eyes, which were, as always, a piercing blue, but at this moment she noticed they were also a little watery and gazing directly at Ava. Ava smiled warily at the captain, who was leaning forward, elbows on the arm of her chair, her chin rested in both hands.
“I like it better down,” Sara drawled contently. Ava furrowed her brow.
“Pardon?”
“Your hair,” Sara stated simply as though it were obvious. “Down. I like it better down.” She smiled lopsidedly, moving close enough to Ava that she could feel Sara’s breath on her face. She reached out and pulled the elastic from Ava’s hair, effectively releasing it and letting it fall down past her shoulders. Ava sat stock-still in confusion, flustered by Sara's sudden closeness, by this sudden gesture of affection from a presence who was usually so irritating. (Ava would never admit to finding her irritating-ness just a little bit charming.)
Ava’s mind whirled with questions. Why was she bothered by this annoying, stuck up, tiny time-captain, who was nothing but a classic pain in the ass when she was sober? Why was she rendered completely useless by a stupid lopsided smile or a confident smirk or a dumb comment? Why was she letting this girl who she’d never been closer to than a respectable three feet away mess with her hair? On that thought, Ava came to the harsh realisation that her perfectly styled hair was now loose and uncontrolled; messy, wrong. She felt her chest tighten at the thought and quickly reached up to try to smooth it. She felt herself beginning to spiral.
“Not here,” she whispered desperately to herself. “Not here, not now, not here.” Her breathing grew short, her vision becoming hazy.
The presence of a hand on hers lifted her out of her slippery-dip of thoughts, gently pulling her fingers down and away from her hair, where she had been frantically trying to fix it. Sara clasped both of Ava’s hands with a softness no person should have while they were drunk, leading them down onto the arm of the sofa. Even in her brain-addled state, Sara seemed to notice Ava’s discomfort, her panic, her spiral.
“I was right,” Sara whispered with a dorky smile, relinquishing one of Ava’s hands to reach out and tuck a loose strand behind her ear. “Hey. Agent Sharpe. Little Miss Time Bureau. Listen here.” Sara’s words were still a little slurred and slightly squashed together, but firm and confident nonetheless. “Your hair, it looks perfect. Down. I like it down. Definitely looks better this way.” she affirmed.
Ava smiled tentatively, slowly releasing the panic that had been building within her, quickly replacing it with embarrassment. She felt her whole body heat up, and her face shone red. She quickly placed her glass on a nearby table.
“I have to go,” Ava muttered hurriedly, mortified at the fact that the entire crew had likely seen her awkward display of anxious tendencies. She had let her guard down, what had she been thinking? Ava tapped her watch and disappeared as quickly as she had come, straight back to her office.
It wasn’t until she stepped fully into her office that she felt a familiar, soft hand on hers. Sara grinned mischievously up at her and placed her hands on Ava’s cheeks.
Sara stretched up on her tiptoes and planted a quick, soft kiss on Ava’s lips, tangling her hands in Ava’s hair, before releasing her and plopping back down onto her feet.
“I… you,” Ava stammered, warmth filling up her stomach and a pretty blush colouring her cheeks.
“If I’d known that’s all it would have taken to shut you up, I would have done it a long time ago,” Sara giggled, her already alcohol-red cheeks flushing a little darker, allowing a glimpse into her otherwise unnoticeable nerves. Sara winked. “Just something to think about, Agent Sharpe.” She smiled one last time and slipped back through the portal to the Waverider, tripping tipsily on thin air as she tottered off.
Ava traced her lips with her thumb, where she could still feel the warmth of Sara’s lips from a few moments before. She felt an overwhelming sense of confusion, but also warmth, and a feeling of contentment that she’d been chasing as long as she could remember. Ava would be thinking about it, she decided, nodding in silent answer to Sara’s parting words.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Ava didn’t stop thinking about it (as she’d chosen to refer to it) until she next saw the captain of the Waverider, only the following day. Sara strolled into her office around midday, her hands tucked casually into her back pockets, wandering as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Director Sharpe,” she hummed smoothly in greeting, accompanied by a nod and a soft smirk.
“Did you mean it?” Ava asked, wasting no time with small talk, or even enquiring as to why Sara was in her office on a Saturday.
“Mean what?” Sara’s brows furrowed as she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. Ava felt her heart drop into her stomach. Of course, Sara didn’t remember. Of course, Sara hadn’t actually wanted to kiss her. She’d just been drunk and cheeky, which, come to think of it, was a very Sara thing to do. Ava stammered, desperately looking for a way to recover from that blow.
“No… never, never mind. It doesn’t matter, I… don’t worry. It’s not important,” she muttered, absently shuffling papers around on her desk. Sara chuckled a little, and Ava looked up in confusion, her eyes prickling with unshed tears.
“That's twice I've managed to make the ever-articulate Ava Sharpe speechless if my count is correct.” Sara grinned victoriously. Ava furrowed her brow again; confusion was becoming far too common of an emotion for her liking. Sara's smug expression softened into one of empathy as she tilted her head. “Yes, Ava. I remember. And yes…” Her eyes glowed a warm blue, soft and vulnerable. “I meant it.”
Ava beamed, her face glowing so brightly that she could have switched off the lights and illuminated the room all by herself.
“You meant it?”
Sara flushed, looking timider than Ava had ever seen her.
“Yeah.” Sara shoved her hands back in her pockets and shrugged, a shy smile on her face. Ava stepped forward and took one of Sara’s hands from her pocket, linking their pinkies, just like a tipsy Sara had done the previous evening. She smiled a smile full of warmth and hope, moving so that they were within a breath of each other's faces.
“Don’t ever trick me like that again, Miss Lance. That was mean and you know it,” Ava whispered in half-faked exasperation.
“That’s reasonable.” Sara conceded easily with an almost inaudible laugh.
“And so in response to your parting words from yesterday, yes, I did think about it.”
“And?” Sara asked with a little smirk; she knew the answer. Ava responded by wrapping her arms around Sara’s middle and pressing their lips together. Sara smiled into the kiss, eventually breaking off giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush, burying her face in Ava’s chest in a very un-Sara-like manner. She looked adoringly up at Ava.
“I’m sorry I made fun of the way you talk.” She smiled apologetically. “I swear it was a compliment.”
“Shush. Your voice. It’s annoying me.” Ava smirked, before pressing her lips to Sara’s forehead with an easy laugh. She wrapped the smaller woman in her arms and held her tight to her chest, vowing to keep her snug in her arms for as long as Sara would let her.