Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow
Rating: General Audience
Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart
Summary: Leonard spots something on Sara's body that he'd never seen before.
Word Count: 1,188
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from DC Comics, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg and Phil Klemmer.
Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie_quill for looking this over for me.
Author's Note: Captain Canary A-Z Challenge Prompt: Ink
Leonard woke slowly, feeling the last vestiges of sleep slip away. He was more content and more rested than he could remember being in a very long time.
And his pillow was moving.
He forced his eyes open and was greeted by the sight of a strip of skin. He lifted his head to see cloth covered beasts, a spill of long blonde hair, and Sara's sleeping face.
Apparently he was using Sara's stomach as his pillow.
Further inventory found his legs entwined with hers, and one of his arms thrown across her hips. He'd been wrapped around her pretty completely.
Not that she seemed to mind. She had a hand draped around his around his neck, dipping beneath the collar of his tee shirt so her fingers rested on his chest, while the other was tossed back behind her head.
Leonard relaxed back down against her, loathe to wake her up, and rather enjoying the position they were in.
He normally didn't cuddle. He preferred to keep his distance around people most of the time. But Sara had long ago broken through his defenses.
He vaguely recalled her coming to his room in the middle of the night, after a nightmare. He'd simply lifted the bed covers and scooted back so that she could climb into bed with him. It wasn't anything he hadn't done for Lisa countless times while she was growing up.
Except for the fact that he and Sara were not brother and sister.
They were...something. They were more than friends, more than teammates, but not yet lovers. They enjoyed spending time together, confiding in one another, and flirting with one another. They both knew that they were headed towards a physical relationship, but were in no rush to get there.
Which wasn't to say that they didn't sleep together sometimes.
This wasn't the first time that Sara had shown up in his room after a particularly bad nightmare. And Leonard had gone to Sara once or twice when his thoughts wouldn't let him sleep and she'd hold him until he did.
His thumb had begun to lightly stroke the strip of bare flesh, occasionally dipping beneath the fabric of her shorts. His eyes were barely open, but he thought he saw something.
He had just started to raise his head to get a better look when he felt Sara's fingers flex against his chest and she laughed throatily.
"That tickles," she sleepily complained.
Leonard turned his head to look up at her and found Sara looking down at him.
She smiled lazily at him. "Comfortable?" she asked.
"Very," he drawled. "You make an excellent pillow."
Sara laughed again, her hand slipping from under his shirt as she arched her back in a stretch.
Leonard licked his lips as her shirt pulled tight against her loose breasts, and he forced himself to look away. Reminding himself that he didn't have the right to look. Yet.
Instead, he leaned up to inspect what had caught his eye before. He slipped his thumb beneath her shorts to try to get a better view of the faint image low on her belly.
"What are you doing?" Sara asked, sitting up.
"I thought I saw something," he said.
Sara reached down and pulled her shorts down far enough to reveal a white tattoo.
"You saw my tattoo," she said, rolling towards him to give him a closer look.
Leonard reached out and gently traced it. It was a white canary in flight with a scimitar clutched in its talons.
Sara sighed in pleasure at the gentle caresses.
"How long have you had this?" he asked. "I wouldn't have expected you to have ink."
"After I left the League, the first time," Sara said. "I took poison so that I wouldn't have to return to the League when Nyssa came for me. Ollie's magic island herbs saved me and Nyssa released me. I know that it broke her heart to do so, but I couldn't stand the killing anymore."
"It's white," Leonard commented. "I thought you were the Black Canary."
"Technically, I was just the Canary. Laurel is the Black Canary."
"So why is it white if you didn't become the White Canary until later?"
"I don't know how to explain it," Sara started. "I wanted the tattoo as a reminder that I could be the Canary without being a murderer. I could be a Canary who saved people, even if I wasn't living in the light yet. I wanted something that was just for me, and anyone I let get close enough." She trailed her hand over his head as she said this.
"So the canary is you, and the sword is Nyssa?" he asked around the lump in his throat.
"Yeah," Sara said, wistfully. "I may not have been able to still be with her, but I was her Beloved, and she was mine. I wouldn't have survived the League without her. I will always love her, even if we can't be together."
Leonard leaned across her body to kiss the tattoo, feeling her stomach flutter at the contact, before locking eyes with hers.
"Thank you for sharing this with me," he said.
"I would have eventually," Sara said. "You just found a way to get me to play Show and Tell now. Besides, we've exchanged stories about some of our scars; it was good to be able to share something that was added to my body by choice."
"I'd never thought of it that way," Leonard said.
"You don't have any ink?" Sara asked, surprised.
"Never trusted anyone to do it," he admitted.
"Do you know what you'd get?" Sara asked.
"Triangle of guns," Leonard immediately answered. "My cold gun, Mick's heat gun, and Lisa's gold gun." He didn't add that maybe Sara's batons would frame two sides.
"That is the question," Leonard drawled. "Left shoulder perhaps, or over my heart."
"Placement is key," Sara commented, running her eyes over his torso. She reached out to tap his chest. "I'm thinking over your heart."
"The most prized possessions of the people you care most about?" Sara raised an eyebrow. "That's a no brainer."
"Over the heart it is," Leonard said, smirking. "If the day ever comes when I could trust someone to get the image right, who won't judge the scars."
"Trust me; no tattoo artist would ever judge you for your scars. They've seen worse, I'm sure. There are even artists who specialize in covering scars left by domestic violence," Sara said.
Leonard contemplated that. While he'd idly thought about it over the years - he'd been in enough prisons to have seen a lot of tattoos - he'd never fully committed to the idea. Sara made it seem almost cathartic.
"If I found the right artist, would you go with me?" he hesitantly asked. The comfortable, lazy morning had made him vulnerable.
Without hesitation, Sara said, "Of course. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there. I'd be honored to share that with you."
"The honor would be all mine," Leonard said, resting his head on Sara's stomach again.