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Thea Queen had always been an impatient girl. Now, she was an impatient woman. So, of course, when Sara Lance messaged her saying that she would be down as soon as she could- ‘have to finish off a chore first, Thea-babe’- the brunette promptly parked her car in the fire lane and bolted up to the assassin’s subleased apartment with every intention of dragging her out by her hair if it meant they would make it to their destination with some amount of breathing room.
Once through the lobby and outside the door clearly marked 201, Thea paused, impressed. It was a clean little building, inside and out- far more civilian than anything she had know Sara to occupy- just on the edge of the slowly rebounding Glades. It was almost . . . quaint . Thea snorted. Then she tried the doorknob.
Unlocked, of course. As if Sara would bother with mundane protection like a deadbolt; it was a good thing she knew the woman-in-question was home, or she would be more concerned with the thought of stumbling across an armed claymore.
After easing the door open, she moved inside and through the entry at a near-crawl, spying Sara’s blonde head off to the right, bouncing back and forth as she tossed wet clothes from the unit’s washing machine into it’s mated dryer and grumbling as she lost all momentum trying to fish small articles out of the bottom of the upright drum.
Taking the moment at liberty, Thea moved into the room properly, curious if Sara had inherited her sister’s neat-freakiness or had maintained proper younger sister etiquette as the in house slob. The kitchen was passable, the aftermath of a homemade lunch obvious, but otherwise fairly clean, like the entryway- a few scattered items, but nothing notable. The table, however, was covered in papers. Covered, as in, apart from the obvious trio of empty mugs and a sleek laptop, she momentarily thought Sara had denounced her spartan ways and purchased a white table cloth. At least it wasn’t that quaint.
The den space was more inviting; warmer. It and it’s correlating furniture faced mostly away from Thea’s position by the table with a large high definition (currently muted) TV, and the plush carpet that disappeared under the back of an overstuffed fabric sectional that was partially draped in a soft looking throw. Everything a tired assassin-turned-vigilante would want when on vacation from her time-traveling day job.
Glancing back to ensure that Sara was still fighting what appeared to be a losing battle with the settings on the dryer ( Suck it, Lance. You can’t have surround sound, a corner unit, and updated appliances after dropping out of thin air in need of a place to stay. ), Thea rounded that corner of the sectional and was half a step from obnoxiously plopping on the attached chaise lounge to announce her presence when a soft snore sounded from the length of couch to her right.
Her head snapped to attention, eyes finding the shapeless curves under the throw blanket first before being drawn upward to the uncovered, gently rising and falling chest of the unknown man asleep on her friend's couch. He was stretch out to his full length, roughly the height of Thea’s own brother, left armed wedged between his body and the couch with the hand curled into the throw’s hem where it fell around his stomach, while the other was securely braced behind his neck in lieu of the pillow that had either been casted aside or fell to the floor on its own, and the elbow and knee of the same side were all but dangling from the cushions.
He was clothed. Always good in the situation of finding strangers in places where strangers don’t typically dwell, like in the homes of resurrected assassins. And completely so, it seemed, judging by the long sleeved shirt pushed to his mid forearm and the socked foot that poked out from underneath the cream colored knit- so it stood to reason that he wasn’t a one-nighter with a bad sense of time (not to mention the dark-rimmed glasses on the coffee table and the gray in his hair didn’t exactly scream ‘hook-up culture’). He was a very specific kind of yummy, though; trim, tall, serious-looking even when he was asleep, and a little dark around the edges.
Thea straightened, having realized she was craning over the man, and took a step back towards the entry, towards Sara, before calling out it a whispered shout.
“Sara Lance!-” She smirked at the resounding thud that hit the air as Sara’s head knocked into lid of the washing machine- “Do you have a boy over!?”
A loud expletive hit the air next, followed by the blonde turning quickly with a hand rubbing against the crest of her head and responding in a similar tone.
“Thea, I asked you to wait outside!”
“You know, I wanted to see the super secret and totally lux apartment that you somehow managed to swing at the last minute. Little did I know, it wasn’t the apartment you were keeping us from.” Thea couldn’t resist a none-too-subtle eyebrow waggle.
Sara scoffed in response before arching up on her toes to look over Thea’s shoulder to the man behind her, letting out a relieved sigh upon seeing him still very much asleep.
“It’s far from secret; you and Ollie both have the address, which guarantees that if Felicity and Digg don’t already know it, they could.” She shrugged, “And Donna stopped by last night to see it- she thought it was cute.”
“And was he here then, too? Because I’m sure Mama Smoak would have loved meeting your dreamy couch potato.”
Sara stated that he had been out and Thea all but laughed.
“Oww, kicked the poor guy out to keep her from asking questions, did you? She would love to have someone’s love life to meddle in.”
“No, he was working,” Sara nodded in the direction of the document covered table, “And it would have been rude, you know, kicking him out.”
Thea’s brow crinkled, not understanding Sara’s hesitance, “Come on, Sara, you of all people don’t have to put up with freeloading hook ups any longer than you want to.”
Sara flicked her eyes to the body on the couch before skimming the apartment quickly.
“True, but I. . . may not have been as clear about my living situation as I could have been.”
Thea’s loose smirk dropped in favor of surprised gape.
“Sara Lance, are you freeloading? Off some poor local you seduced!?”
“Hey, it’s a nice apartment, but it's not that nice.”
“Then what?”
“. . .Roommates?”
“Nuh-uh.” Because who actually cares if their roommate of one month meets their friends?
“Fine, I’m a freeloading vigilante. But he’s not poor or a local.”
“And you just happened across a nonlocal willing to share, right? No. Are you sleeping with him, or not? How much does he know?”
Sara all but growled at Thea’s accusing tone.
“Everything.”
Thea’s eyes went wide.
“What!? How much ‘everything’!?”
“Hmm, tight-fitted leather, secret lair, arrow slinging best friends- the whole deal actually. Which, all together, is just enough to keep him from picking out a new super rival; and considering I have a hard enough time keeping him in line when there's just one hero I fight for his attention against, I figured it's best not to antagonize him with a whole host.”
“Wha- Sara. Are you shacking up with a criminal-!” Thea’s eyes darted back the man on the couch and the volume limits were thrown out the window.
“That's Snart! A killer master thief is asleep on your couch-”
“Technically it's his couch, though I did pick out the color-”
“And he- oh my God, he’s planning a heist on the kitchen table-”
“Well, he’s trying too, but claims that I keep distracting him. . .”
“You are sleeping with him!”
“Guilty. Very guilty.” The blonde smirked with something akin to pride.
Thea could only sputter silently in response.
“I thought you said he was just a teammate, that you worked together then cut ties. Not that you and he were, uh . . .”
“Yeah, well, he died and I could sympathize. Now, he makes sure that I don’t accidentally slaughter any citizens or recklessly write history and I make sure that he doesn’t steal anything too important to society and remembers to sleep. And by ‘remembers’, I mean that at 9am after all nighter, his cup of Irish coffee gets spiked with about half a bottle of codeine.”
“So, it’s a real thing, then. Living together isn’t just to save on the rent that he probably doesn’t even pay.” She paused, risking yet another glance at the slumbering crook, noting that he seemed to be breathing more shallowly. “Ollie is going to flip his shit when he finds out.”
“Too bad he won’t- at least not any time soon. If the timeline stays stable, they shouldn’t meet here for another three months. But, yeah, from what Len told me when it happened, it’s not a friendly interaction.” Thea didn’t miss the downcast look in her friend’s eye at the statement. “Oh, and there’s not really need to pay rent on a building that you own. Though I know for a fact that the people at SC Water and Power hate him; something about threats to livelihood.”
“And a criminal from Central owns real estate in Star because?” All she got in response was shrug from Sara before a groggy voice sounded from behind her, throwing both women’s attention to where the disheveled thief was sitting up carefully.
“Because- when your fantastic and incredibly menacing partner hints that she would like an apartment in her hometown, it's pretty self-explanatory that a two-bit safehouse won’t do. So, one quick hop to 2013 and a property on the edge of the lovely crater that was the Glades is unsurprisingly easy to purchase with an alias and a wad of cash.” He stood, dragging a hand over his face, and Thea was disproportionately proud to see that she had been correct about his height, and the serious look that he somehow managed to maintain while glaring at the couch like it had personally offended him. “And to think, Sara, I imagined you had just cheapened in your choice of whiskey, not that you would stoop so low as to drug me just to hang out with little Ms. Merlyn-Queen in peace.”
Sara rolled her eyes, “I drugged you because you hadn’t slept in nearly three days , it had nothing to do with Thea- she was supposed to wait outside.”
“Which is the name I prefer, by the way.” Thea added with a huff.
“Noted, Arrow Junior. And I’ve told you, Assassin, these hero types never listen.”
“I’m a hero, Leonard. And we communicate just fine.”
“Says the woman who kicked me out of my house and drugged me and opened my house to the likes of Star City vigilantes all in the span of-” a flip of a wrist to check the practical looking watch attached there- “eighteen hours. And you’re an anti-hero, at best, whereas I am an anti-hero at worst.”
Sara dismissed him with a wave before sending a grimace-like smile to Thea.
“If you want any plausible deniability when it comes to a heist at 6 Business Plaza, we should probably head out in the next five minutes.”
The brunette crossed her arms and frowned, visibly debating the merits of continued conversation with the criminal versus taking Sara proffered out and the ability to claim innocence in the likely not too distant future. She decided on the former. “Well, we have less than half an hour until 2:45 now, so the matinee is basically out of the question. And right now I’m far more interested in your super-secret boy-toy than I am some horror thriller.”
“Fine, we’ll do it some other-” Sara began before being cut off.
“The one with the family of Neo-Nazis and the creepy doll? I’d go.”
Both women turned to him in shock.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Len, you hate massacre movies. . .”
“True, but hauntings are a must and, from what you’ve told me, Thea will appreciate hearing the story of me putting her brother on his ass even before it happens. So, I’ll brush my teeth, you’ll pull my boots from where ever you have hidden them this time, and we can go in the Challenger. Shot gun.” And he turned a strode into what Thea had scoped out as the bathroom upon her initial sweep with her eyes following him even as he door closed.
Sara reclaimed her attention with a touch to the arm. She turned to face her and was met with a closed off expression.
“Look, I had kind of given up on him ever being willing to be around any of you guys, so, can he come?”
Thea could hear the pleading just below Sara’s neutral tone and found herself unwilling or unable to consider the idea of dismissing her. She sighed.
“If he can really tell me about besting Ollie and you both acknowledge that he is crashing our movie-date, then I suppose I could swallow an afternoon with a handsome, older man.”
Before the sentence had even been heard in full, she was pulled into a bone-crushing hug.
“I swear, I swear. Just, let him have the benefit of the doubt, and trust me, because the story is great.”
Hours later, after a very informative car ride, an impromptu double feature because none of them had realized that the new installment of that awesome action series was released the day before, a Korean BBQ dinner, and two rounds of beer and nachos, Thea stumbled her way back into her apartment with a surprising lack of concern at the fact that not only was one of her best friends dating a criminal mastermind, but said criminal had offered to teach her, a hero and mayoral office manager, proper safe cracking techniques. And that she had accepted with the ultimatum that he had to let her drag him every movie deemed too ‘uncool’ for the likes of Team Arrow. And that he had been affronted when told that she had never had the chance to hunt down any bank robbers worth their salt in her tenure as a hero, pointedly adding an indigent ‘yet’ to the statement. And that her apparent willingness to befriend the questionable man had all but erased the somber expression that had occasionally flitted across Sara’s face over the past few weeks. And that she was glad.