On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

xxx

"They're going to kill us." Ray is staring at the closed door. "Kill us. Slowly. Painfully. And then they'll find a way to bring us back-'cause that's not precisely unheard of around here—and do it again."

"Speak for yourself," Nate tells him cheerfully. "Steel, remember?"

"Steel freezes at absolute zero. And then it shatters. And anyway, you can't stay steel forever." Ray gives him a mournful look. "Sara in particular is very patient."

"Huh." Nate joins him in staring at the door. "We may be in trouble."

"Uh huh."

"It's quiet. Do you think they've...ah..."

"I don't want to think about that. And wouldn't Gideon have let them out if that was the case?"

"Since Gideon stopped talking to us 11 hours ago, I have no idea. Gideon?"

No answer.

"Ms. Lance?" The AI's voice wakes Sara from a sound and contented sleep. "Can I tell them you have left the room? There is much speculation as to your...status...and we will need to emerge from the time stream soon to land in Central City."

"Mmm. No. Don't tell them yet." She stretches, drawing a muted grumble from the man whose arms are still loosely around her. "How long do we have?"

"Approximately an hour."

"Thank you." She tilts her head back just a bit, shivering as his fingers flex slowly on her bare hip, under the blanket they'd found. "Len? Time to move."

A lengthy sigh. "An hour? I'm sure we can find better ways to fill most of that..."

She squirms around in his arms and kisses him, hard, before pulling away and standing, letting the blanket fall back down to the futon-like bed. "I need to check the course and prepare. Captain now, remember?"

"That's going to take a little getting used to." His blue eyes gleam as he sits up, pulling the blanket across himself as he watches her walk casually across the room.

"The captain thing? But you'll manage...right?" A sly smile as she pauses to pick up some of the clothing they'd managed to discard on their way toward the bed.

"I think it's sort of hot, myself." He tilts his head as he learns back to watch her, smirk firmly in place.

God, she's missed him.

"I think there's a name for that," she tells him. "Insubordination? I don't know. Be nice, or I'll find a way to punish you."

"Promise?"

"Very funny. And maybe. Now, how do we want to play this?" she asks, casting about the room for her shirt. Ah. There, under the table.

"Let's let 'em suffer a little more."

"I can live with that."

Sara finishes dressing quickly and crosses the room back to him, kissing him swiftly again before dodging his (mostly joking attempt) to pull her back to the bed, winking at him and leaving to check the computers.

He hadn't really been kidding. It is hot. Sara's always moved with confidence, but this is a different kind of confidence. Leadership, he thinks, suits her.

They'd communicated with actions more than words, last night, but words have been said, words that probably should have been said long ago. And if they're different people than that crook and assassin at the Vanishing Point, well, so much the better.

For first time, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, his own experiences since that day might ultimately have changed him for the better, as well. He's been a part of two teams now. He knows which one he likes infinitely better. Which one he's become willing to lay down his life for, in more ways than one.

The old Leonard Snart had gone as far out on a limb as he ever had in his life just to utter the words "me and you."

The current one intends to enjoy seeing what it's like to live them.

"Nothin'?" Mick's joined the two drowsing watchdogs in the corridor. "And nothin' from Gideon?"

"Nothing. And it's your turn," Nate tells him, climbing to his feet. "I don't know why we had to stay anyway. Unless it's to provide cannon fodder when they get out of there."

"Who says it's not, Pretty Boy?" Mick turns to stare at the door. "Huh. You'd think..."

"Have you really been staring at that door all night?"

Even Mick jumps, and Ray and Nate leap like startled cats. Sara smirks, arms folded, watching them from a bit further down the corridor. And behind her, Leonard Snart is leaning casually against the wall and studying his fingernails as if they're the most interesting thing on the ship. After a moment, he flicks a look at the trio and rolls his eyes.

Mick, frankly, looks a bit dumbfounded. "Gideon?"

"I was under orders from the captain, Mr. Rory." Gideon's voice is all business now. If the AI were human, Sara thinks she'd say Gideon is trying to pretend none of this mutiny stuff ever happened.

"How did you...?"

"Oh, I need a few secrets, don't I?" She shakes her head. "Were the others in on this, or was it just you three?" But she lifts a hand before any of them can even say a word. "Never mind. Of course they were. Well, glad to contribute to team bonding, or whatever you'd call it.

"Anyway, bridge in 20. We need to prepare to leave the time stream and land." She turns to Snart, her voice chilling just a little. "And you. You might want to...prepare."

He mock-salutes her. "Aye, aye, captain."

The words draw an eye roll, and she turns away, giving the other three men a look before heading toward her own quarters. Snart smirks, nods to them, and then enters his own...the door sliding open smoothly...as they watch.

Mick frowns, watching. "They're...hmph..." He shakes his head. "They're different with each other."

"You think it might have worked?"

"Haircut, to be honest, I have no idea what the hell just happened."

The reentry goes smoothly, and Sara sets the Waverider down easily in the same lot on the city outskirts that Rip used the year before. Not long after, the team gathers just outside the ship, standing near the hatch and waiting.

It's snowing, just a little, and they've all grabbed cold-weather gear from Gideon's stores or fabrication room-all except for Sara, who's standing just inside the hatch in a light shirt, looking like she's lost in thought.

"Ms. Lance," Stein ventures, "you will not be leaving the ship?"

"Hmm? Oh. No." She smiles at them. "No, I'm fine. Need to...do a few things. It's OK."

"If you're sure..."

The uncertainty is killing Ray, who's wearing a red parka that looks remarkably familiar. "So, where's Snart?" he asks. "I mean, that was why we came here, right? He wanted to leave. Did he..."

"Keep your...coat...on, Raymond. I'm here." The crook in question finally ambles down the corridor, pausing at the hatch. He's eschewed his own blue parka for that familiar black leather jacket, but he's carrying cold gun's case, a sight that makes Mick frown.

"So...is this goodbye?"

The crook glances around at all of them, then peers out at the falling snow and the city he once called home...and shakes his head.

"Nah," he drawls, "you know, I think I have better things to do."

He straightens and lifts an eyebrow at Sara. "Your room or mine?"

"Yours is cleaner," she tells him.

"True, that." Still thoroughly ignoring the others, he moves closer, smirking at her until Sara rolls her eyes, grabs the front of his shirt and draws him close for a kiss that is in no way innocent. Or brief.

Mick grunts. Amaya is startled into a laugh. Ray and Nate and Jax just gape, while Stein shakes his head, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Well, well, well," the older man says. "I think we may have been outplayed."

Released...eventually...Snart shakes his head at her, the smirk still hovering about his lips, then finally turns to the team.

"Merry Christmas. And happy Hanukkah, professor." And with those seemingly unSnartlike sentiments, he turns and strolls back into the ship.

Sara turns back to the group and raises her eyebrows at them.

"Twelve hours," she reminds them. "Be back by then." She turns her head to watch Leonard sauntering off down the corridor and then glances back with a grin. "But not too long before then, OK?"

With that, their captain waves and follows her crook into the Waverider, the hatch closing behind her and leaving six variously stunned expressions behind her.

Stein moves first, with a chuckle and another shake of the head.

"Well, I'm off to see Clarissa and Lily. If any of you need a place to go," he tells them, "remember that you are welcome at our home. Jax?"

"Might be over later, Gray. Depends on what's going on with my mom."

Stein glances at Ray and Nate. "And you two? I know your families are in Star City..."

Ray grins at him. "Got a standing invite from Barry. I think we get to be the bearer of interesting news...Mick? Amaya?"

"Nah. But thanks."

Amaya just shakes her head. She stands with Mick and they watch the other team members head out toward the city, tracking them until they vanish into the snow.

Mick clears his throat, then, and glances at her awkwardly.

"Got some places I'd like to show you," he tells her. "Well...nothing so nice as what they're talking about. Just a few spots about town you might like. And, uh, a bar."

He darts a glance at her, wondering about her reaction. But Amaya just raises her eyebrows and smiles at him. "Why am I not surprised?" she says. "And the name of this establishment?"

"Saints & Sinners. Boss an' I used to spend a lot of time there. It's not much, but...well. Good food and it's open. Good place to talk without lots of other people listening in."

Amaya tilts her head and regards him a moment, and he wonders what she's thinking. But she just smiles.

"Fitting name," she says. "Lead the way."

She tucks her arm into his as they walk off in the snow, and Mick lets her. Maybe, he thinks to himself, if there's hope for the Boss and Blondie, there just might be a little more hope to go around...

And miracles happen as Christmastime, right?

Behind them, the Waverider slowly fades from view, its shape blocking out a sizable patch of falling snow, but only for those who know to look.

And for once, all is peace for the Legends crew.

xxx

...12 hours...finally!

Eleven little words

Ten dreams and nightmares

Nine Canary takedowns

Eight hands of gin

Seven teammates plotting

Six silver snowflakes

Five throwing knives

Four cups of cocoa

Three hidden truths

Two lonely hearts

And a crook who came back to me.