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“C’mon, sugar, we gotta get out of here,” the man in the grey hat chuckles, an eyebrow raised and his lips more smirk than smile. The sleek outline of a ‘45 makes itself obvious in his trouser pocket, and his fingers play with the trouser material. Winn glances between the man and his red-haired companion, his breath rapid, shocked. The dark grey suit is slightly big on the man, but the woman’s dress is fitted tight to her body. She’s tall, and elegant, and Winn would be entranced by her if it wasn’t for the gangster who looks exactly like him.
Turning up on a dusty road, in broad daylight, when they’d been flying through the National City at midnight, was seeming almost insignificant compared to this.
Kara’s hand is on his shoulder, and with her boots she’s taller than him, it’s reassuring, but her grip is tight, and he can almost feel the bones in his shoulder about to shatter. Mon-El’s hand is clasped in his, his thumb rubbing gently, as if he can sense that Winn is about to do something rash.
“You- oh my God,” Winn manages to splutter out.
“Takin’ the Lord’s name in vain, buddy?” His doppelganger laughs, finally turning to look at him, and his mouth drops. “Shit!” The word isn’t said as if he’s shocked, or even slightly surprised, he simply looks amused. “When I said people’d cut their hair like me, didn’t think it was gon’ come true,” He laughs, again, and Winn can’t breathe. “Gotta say, though, you look a little clean cut to idolise me. Ain’t complainin’, mind.”
“Clyde, honey,” the red-head says, and she looks as amused as her partner does. “D’ya think he’s got a friend who looks like me?”
The man in the grey hat, Clyde, is terrifying, but there is nothing but adoration in his eyes as he looks at the woman, and smiles, edging closer to her so he can wrap an arm around her waist. Winn absentmindedly notices that he’s shorter than her. “Ain’t no-one who even comes close to you, Bonnie, babe,” it’s only then that he regards that there are, in fact, two women, and another man, with Winn.
“So much for date night,” Lena says, and although she’s as utterly confused as the rest of them, she seems to be taking it better, as she laughs in good spirit.
“You- me- how?” Winn, however, is not.
Clyde ignores Winn, has been transfixed ever since he caught sight of Kara. “What are you wearing?” While Winn, Mon-El and Lena’s outfits don’t exactly fit with wherever they are right now, Kara’s doesn’t exactly fit anywhere other than National City.
But before Kara can answer, Winn is asking again, “Why do you look like me? Who are you?” Clyde looks even more amused before, and he raises an eyebrow, laughs.
“Buddy, you ain’t gonna kid me, you don’t gotta act like ya don’t know me, I’m flattered, honest,” he laughs again, which is seemingly the only thing he can do, and amusement is the only emotion he’s capable of.
“I don’t know who you are, man, I’m sorry, but this is totally weird, and I don’t know who you are,” Winn insists. Mon-El has let go of his hand, and his arms are crossed, and the brunet kind of wishes they weren’t. He’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand right now. He can feel Mon-El’s warmth next to him, and he kind of needs to be closer to him.
Clyde looks at Bonnie, who looks more confused than he does. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t know Bonnie and Clyde, not in the whole of the Texas. “Clyde Barrow,” he smirks, and sticks a hand out, “Now, you gotta tell me your name too, you’d hafta be rude not to. Ain’t a long-lost brother, are you? I’ve got enough of ‘em already,”
Winn looks to Mon-El, and Mon-El looks to Winn. Kara nods at them, and he clears his throat before saying, “Winn- yeah, Winn,” and shaking Barrow’s hand quickly.
The woman smiles, her arm is around Clyde’s shoulders, and she nestles herself closer against him as she speaks, her voice smooth as silk. “And I’m Bonnie Parker.”
“That your flame, Winn?” Clyde asks, as he grins at Kara. Lena subconsciously steps closer to her, and finds her hand. The man, who is still watching them, laughs. “You two sisters?”
Finally finding his voice, Winn can’t help but chuckle as he thinks of how disgusting it’d be if Lena and Kara were related in any way at all. “No, they’re together. This- I’m- Mon-El. I’m Mon-El’s flame,” he uses the lingo tensely, unsure of what exactly it means. Clyde narrows his eyebrows, and shakes his head, his mouth still in a smile.
“World’s gettin’ more an’ more strange by the day, ain’t it-”
Before he can continue, Kara interrupts, her face a mask of neutrality, but Winn can see her hand trembling. Lena is keeping it steady, but it’s clearly growing difficult. “What year are we in?”
Laughing, Clyde takes his arm from around Bonnie’s waist, “You’re joking? It’s 1934.” Parker laughs, and her and Barrow’s laughter intertwine like a ridiculous melody.
“I don’t see why that would be a joke-” Mon-El starts, but he’s cut off by the click of a gun. Bonnie and Clyde have simultaneously positioned their guns towards them. The sun glints off the barrels, and both of them have their fingers on their respective triggers. Kara edges forward, shielding Lena best she can without being obvious. Mon-El starts to do the same, and Winn grabs him by the wrist. They don’t know if he’s bulletproof yet.
Clyde steps forward, one foot in front of the other, elegance radiating off him as he smiles, using his free hand to reposition his hat. “You lot are either in a whole lotta trouble, or you’re grifters. We don’t have no time for grifters, Bonnie and me.” Winn’s cursing himself, but he’s kind of jealous. This guy, terrifying as he may be, is probably the coolest person he’s ever been near, bar Kara, and he looks just like him. Winn can’t shoot a gun yet, he works with computers, for God’s sake. It’s not fair that his doppelganger, which Barry has told him aren’t that rare, gets to be a million times cooler than him.
The two criminals complement each other perfectly, and Winn will ponder on whether or not Mon-El is his Bonnie later, but he’s brought back to the situation when a shot rings out. His head darts up, but no-one’s been hit, not even Kara. “Jesus-” he murmurs, as Barrow and Parker smile in syncronisation.
“Didn’t I pose a question, there, eh? Are you lot-” Clyde waves his gun about carelessly, “-in trouble, or are you tryin’ to con us? First you say you ain’t never heard of us, now you don’t know what year you’re in. You’ve either had some serious bang on the head, or you’re lyin. You look just like me, you’re a gunsel, so’s he, those two dolls are datin’ each other. You ain’t from ‘round here, clearly.” Even Mon-El, as confused as he seems to be, looks like he understands the severity of the situation they’re in right now. Kara could easily save them all, but this guy is still him.
For some godforsaken reason, Winn steps forward, and both guns switch towards him within a second. Dear God, these two must be trained. “I swear, we don’t know what’s going on. We were in National City and now- where are we?”
Bonnie looks like she’s never heard of National City, and Clyde is sticking to his permanent facial expression of amusement. “You’re in Texas,” the woman says, her gun steady, not a single tremor. Neither of them seem even slightly scared. They’re experts at this.
Lena, Mon-El and Winn turn to Kara, and she looks more surprised than everyone else combined. “I must have flown really, really fast.”