#avalance fluff

note: just a short little tidbit. an idea in my head after i, myself, cooked breakfast this morning. enjoy!

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Sara couldn’t remember the last time that she felt this safe. It had to have been the morning before she got onto the Gambit. She woke up feeling warm with no lingering inklings of dread or doom. There were no nightmares and she rolled over to wrap her arm around the waist of the woman who made it possible.

Only to find that part of the bed empty.

“Ava?” called out Sara, looking around the bedroom of Ava’s apartment.

Their apartment.

Sara pulled back the covers, shivering as the cooler air hit her bare skin. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her fingers itched for the blade she normally kept under her pillow due to worrying why it was so quiet and Ava wasn’t there. Ava had made it a rule to not keep knives in the bed, though, so Sara had to instead reach stealthily into the nightstand drawer. She felt more secure with the blade in her grip. She stood from the bed, silently walking to the doorway.

She relaxed when the scent of bacon and the sound of busywork in the kitchen hit her after opening the door. Feeling silly she put the knife back and instead reached for her robe still on the floor. After tightening the belt and running her fingers through her tangled hair she padded down the hall toward the stairs.

“Smells good,” she called as she walked down the steps.

“Not sure how hungry you’d be. Waffles?” asked Ava. She was dressed for the day already in her suit. Sara had to wonder what time she’d woken up to already be showered, dressed, and making breakfast.

And how the hell hadn’t she woken up?!

A small part of her worried that she was too relaxed. That she was growing soft. That anyone could’ve come in and attacked her. That she needed to put her walls back up and be more on edge.

She promptly told that part of herself to shut the hell up.

“Yes, please,” said Sara, bouncing slightly on the stool in a childlike manner. She made grabby hands as Ava offered her a cup of coffee. She took a long sip and internally sighed. She could really get used to this. And she voiced her opinion out loud. “I could get used to this. You making me breakfast in the morning.”

“Yes, well, if I’m cooking then you’re cleaning,” said Ava with a smirk that had Sara pouting. Sara never liked doing kitchen duty. Even on the Waverider she did her best to skirt around her duties, opting instead to just replicate clean dishes and toss the old and used ones down the trash chute. 

She had a feeling Ava wouldn’t let that slide here.

“Could you two possibly get any cuter?” 

Wally leans against the door to the little nook of the ship where Ava and Sara have taken to sharing coffee in the morning.

Ava blushes as she disentangles herself from Sara – but only slightly – who’d been whispering in her ear, something that made Wally simultaneously grateful and regretful that he didn’t have Kara Danvers’s superhearing.

“You know, that’s a question, Wally,” Sara smirks, arching an eyebrow at him and winking at her girlfriend. “Hey Gideon,” her eyes drift to the ceiling as she speaks. “What’s the mathematical likelihood that Ava and I could get any cuter than we already are?”

“The answer to your query depends on an array of standards for what qualifies as cute, Captain. For example, while you clearly appeared to be engaging in a cute interaction when Mr. West walked into the room, you in fact were elevating Ms. Sharpe’s heartrate and increasing blood flow to – “

“Okay, Gideon, that’s enough.”

“So sexy sexy times aren’t cute, according to our ship.”

“I believe the term currently in use might be ‘hot,’ Mr. West,” Gideon answers, and it’s Sara’s turn to blush, as she remembers calling Gideon hot. She’s sure, somehow, that Gideon is remembering the same thing.

“I dunno, Wally, I think we could get there if we tried hard enough.” Ava’s sipping her coffee with a pout that is at once thoughtful, playful, and determined. “We could make it into some kind of challenge.”

“Your girlfriend loves challenges,” Wally chimes, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Easy there, kid, you’re gonna phase right through the deck plating. And,” Sara turns her attention back to Ava, biting her own lip as her gaze drifts down to Ava’s, “he’s right. I do love myself a challenge.”

“So, you’re gonna be even cuter for me?” Ava asks, and Sara smirks as she raises her mouth to meet hers.

“Um, guys, I meant cute, not seductive.” 

“Called it,” Jax smirks as he leans across the table to clink his beer bottle with Mick’s.

Sara frowns, remembering a time when nothing could make her blush and missing it sorely.

“Called what?” she scoffs, trying and utterly failing to be suave, cool, and collected.

“You and Ava,” Jax’s smirk deepens as Sara leans over to smack Mick in the arm with an open fist.

“Blabber mouth.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything. The kid has eyes of his own, Captain.”

Sara can’t contain her smile now, even though she tries.

“So Jax, how’s life back in – “

“Oh no no no,” Jax shakes his head, pointing his beer at her like he’s the commanding officer and she’s an insubordinate rookie. “No changing the subject, Sara Lance. We’ve been to at least six different wars together. I think we can share a little dating gossip.”

“If we’re calling it gossip, I’m out,” Mick grunts, moving to stand before Sara yanks him back onto his bar stool. He doesn’t object.

“She’s…” Sara shakes her head and sighs, her gaze lowering when she sees the genuine, proud smile on Jax’s face. She chuckles to herself before continuing. “She gets me, I guess. I’ve died, you know? Like, a lot.”

“I know, I was there for one of them,” Jax tries to joke, but Sara notices his shudder. She puts a hand on his thigh and squeezes gently, and he covers her hand with his own. 

“And she doesn’t want me to try to… fit in some box or be…”

“Normal?” Jax prompts as Mick takes a long swig of beer and Sara smiles softly.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“You deserve that, Sara. You know that, right? You deserve to be loved.”

Her hands shoot up defensively, almost knocking over her own beer.

“Hey, no one said anything about love – “

“Yeah, we’re at least a few dates away from four letter words,” a woman’s voice behind them makes Sara blush, Mick roll his eyes in poorly-masked amusement and take another swig, and Jax jump off his stool.

“Ava Sharpe,” he smiles. “I know Sara can take care of herself, but you realize I’m still one half of literal nuclear fusion, right?”

Sara covers her face with her hands and Mick raises his eyebrows, excited by the idea of a confrontation.

Ava, though, just smiles.

“If I hurt her, feel free to do your worst.” She’s talking to Jax, but she’s looking at Sara, and that look alone gets Sara off her seat and into Ava’s arms.