Mick grunted as Laurel cleaned his face with a damp cloth, running it over his large new scar, going across his cheek and chin.
“We were gonna miss our chance,” he argued.
Laurel sighed, picking up the alcohol and getting a new cloth for it.
“We got the goods,” Mick continued. “‘Sides, Gideon will fix me up.”
She glared at him, rubbing the alcohol more firmly against his face than she needed to, but he didn’t flinch. He’s been here many times before.
Laurel had joined the team months ago. Due to being legally dead in the timeline, she had nowhere else to go except all throughout time, with her sister and the rest of the misfits she had collected.
‘Course that meant they had a mother hen with too much of a conscience around. Mick didn’t kill anymore ‘less he had to, but he was still violent and had a bad temper.
He and Laurel clashed all the fucking time, to the point he heard Sara consider taking one of them off the team.
And now Laurel was cleaning up his face, the sting of the alcohol seeping into his wounds. They were in one of Snart’s old safe houses, and would have to spend the night before heading to the rendezvous spot.
Their loot? A shitty Pokeymom card that’d get so rare in the future it’d cause a civil war.
“Look, sorry I didn’t follow your plan—”
“That’s not the problem, Mick,” Laurel snapped. “You nearly died. And believe it or not, I don’t want you dead.”
“Yeah, ‘cause then who’d you snap at?”
Laurel rolled her eyes, but he swore he saw the corners of her lips tilt up in a smile.
She finally finished dressing his wounds. “There we go. Make sure you don’t bump your face into anything so it’ll heal, at least until we get back to the ship.”
Mick grunted, noticing how her hands lingered in front of his face, barely touching his jaw. She pulled them back, but Mick didn’t let her get too far.
He picked up another cloth and dabbed it on her forehead, where a bloody scratch still was.
“What are you doing?” Laurel asked, bewildered.
“Returnin’ the favor.”
“I don’t need that much help—”
“Shut up and let me be helpful.”
She pouted—that bottom lip should be illegal—but he could see how touched she was by that gesture, and he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel.
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So I know we both like Canaryfire, so I went with them!
For Mick, before Laurel, he just doesn't keep track of his birthday. It's just a marker for being another year older, another year in prison, another year of pulling heists. But after, it marks another year of knowing Laurel, of being with her, of loving her and being loved by her.
So Mick has before, where it's not really acknowledge or dealt with, but his after's? His after's are always special affairs, planned by Laurel where they spend them together, with takeout, crappy movies and just them.
For Laurel birthday's were always a big deal in the Lance family. Her parents always going out for her and Sara. Until Sara's "death" and then they became this gaping wound she didn't want to acknowledge. But then Sara came back and they got better. She never went back to wishing for big blow out parties, but she did find joy in celebrating them once again.
And then she got with Mick, who didn't even celebrate his own, who didn't realize they could be something special. So it's a bit of trail and error but eventually they settle into a tradition of on her actual birthday, is when they celebrate with her mom and dad planning a quiet get together of just family and their daughters s/o's. But the day after, they always spend doing whatever thing Laurel wants. Whether that be hiking, cooking, painting, yoga, fighting crime, or repainting their whole apartment/house. It's just whatever she wants and the two of them spending it together.
But when they have kids? They decide to go all out because they both know now how important birthdays can be to a person.
Send Nixie a ship/character + a word, and I'll give you a HC.
“It’ll be one,” Mick confirms as Laurel sets her phone down on the table. “The kid’s being fussy. No doubt she’s going to wake up in the middle of the night again.”
“She’s Sara’s daughter through and through,” Laurel murmurs softly as Mick takes a seat beside her. “I remember Mom telling me that Sara never slept well when she was a baby. Not until her first birthday really.”
“Rory’s...shit we have two months until her birthday.”
“Yeah,” Laurel nods. “Hopefully she’ll take after Leonard then.”
“Snart was a good baby when we had him on the ship,” Mick recalls as Laurel leans her head on his shoulder.
Laurel hums softly. “That’s good to hear.”
The two of them are quiet for a few moments before Mick takes her hand and laces his fingers between his.
“I miss them.”
“So do I,” Laurel whispers thickly, knowing she’s close to crying. “But at least Rory’s got us. And she’ll know all about Sara and Leonard. That they were heroes.”
“Yeah,” Mick agrees. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Mick,” she smiles. “You know they would be thinking it’s funny if they were still here. Us getting together because of their kid.”
(I love how the one thing I asked you to prompt me has taken me FOREVER to write.)
Mick likes to think he's become a better person these last few years, and living on a ship that gradually became dominated by women, he likes to think he picked up a thing or two.
Examples of things he's learned living on a ship full of women: They can and will be just as gross as guys, but in different ways he never would've thought of. If they write their name on something in the fridge, don't fucking touch it. Most of 'em will let you pick off their plate, and half the time they put leftovers in the fridge they're assuming someone else is gonna eat it. So if they go through the trouble to label their food, they mean business. He's learned not to question three empty soap bottles in the shower, and he's learned a golden retriever probably sheds less than most of 'em. And he learned right off the bat that they don't appreciate being interrupted.
Most of the time he's pretty good at not interrupting, but right now he's strongly considering taking the risk.
"And I know we have our differences, and you're situation is complicated right now with Lita and everything..."
He's been standing here, patiently, for the better part of three minutes listening to Laurel first stutter and now ramble about how she wants to move on from the hooking up and admittedly close friendship they've had going for them.
At first, he thought she was effectively breaking up with him, but then she kept talking, and he realized it's the opposite. She's trying to start something with him. He's pretty sure she's lost her mind, but he hasn't felt about anyone the way he feels about her in a long, long time. He ain't about to let it slip through his fingers again.
With that in mind he makes a decision; he's going to take the risk of interrupting her, because she is still rambling.
He grabs her by the waist and kisses her hard, all in one motion. At first she gasps in surprise and pulls away, but she comes back in before he can start to fear any retribution. Her hands come to rest on his shoulders, her fingers curl lightly into his jacket.
Then she pulls back, and looks up at him with those doe eyes of hers half lidded.
Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012); DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV).
Relationship: Laurel Lance/Mick Rory.
Tags: Established Relationship; Fluff; Happy; Rare Pair; Mick's greatness of at cooking is referenced; Happy & Loving Couple; Mick being bashful; Canaryfire has a puppy.
Notes: Cleaned up, and reposted old fic of me.
Summary:
“Where’s my phone at, darlin’?”
Laurel glances up from her book to squint at Mick as he walks into the bedroom, “Did your comm, beacon, thingy for the ship go off?” she asks, even as she slides her bookmark into place, and leans over to place the book onto her nightstand.
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K1C (Canaryfire) :) or literally anything Canaryfire!
Canaryfire—Canon-Verse—”I need your help.”
.
.
.
If Rip were still alive he’d be shittin’ bricks over what he was about to do. But Mick was desperate. Everyone was willing to count the Boss out. Even her new girlfriend. Mick didn’t believe for a second that his Captain was dead. Sara Lance was one tough bitch. No way in hell she’d let some time chump take her out. He’d tried telling the team that she was still out there. But the dipshits wouldn’t listen. As if they’d forgotten he’d been around this stuff a hell of a lot longer than they have thanks to Chronos. Haircut tried to say his hope was some psychological crap. That losing Leonard years ago and now Sara was making him all muddled in the head. But he wasn’t crazy. He had his head on straight. Hell, he’s only had one beer today. While everyone had seen Sara fall, Mick had looked a second longer than they had. They thought she’d fallen into a volcano. Mick had seen a blue light and had seen her vanish before hitting the lava. As if a window of some sort opened up.
And no one fucking believed him.
Well, he was about to go find someone who would.
Because he couldn’t do this alone.
.
.
.
“I need your help.”
Laurel looked over at her visitor. She’d just been stabbed by Damien Darhk. She felt awful. Standing above her bed was someone she didn’t know, but she felt like she’d seen his face before. A slight wave of panic hit her. Was he here to finish the job Darhk started?
“W-Who are you?”
“Name’s Mick. I’m a friend of Sara’s. And I need you to come help me find her.”
“Find her?” Laurel sat up in her hospital bed, wincing at the feel of her stitches pulling. She was so weak, that just this movement had a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I ain’t got long. The window is small. Let me spell it out for you. You’re supposed to die today. I’m changing that so that you can help me save Sara.”
Laurel was confused. But she remembered everything Sara told her. So all Laurel could do was nod. Mick looked relieved, as if he’d been expecting her to fight him. But this was Sara. She needed to help him. It wasn’t until he had her loaded in a wheelchair that she noticed a body laying on the floor. And when she saw her face staring back at her she fought the urge to pass out.
“Put this on,” he said, handing her a wig with red hair. “I gotta sneak you out.”
“Who… Who is that?” asked Laurel.
“Not you. Not no one. A clone. A dead clone. Something I borrowed and modified from Toronto.”
“I… Toronto?”
“Just put on the wig and I’ll tell you everything once we get the hell outta here.”
.
.
.
“So where to we start?” asked Laurel. They were on a ship that he said used to be his a long time ago. It was all so foreign to her. He brought her up to date on everything. He left nothing out. Was quite blunt, actually. She was supposed to be dead. Now, she was a ghost. A ghost who needed to go find her sister.
“Mount Vesuvius, 70 A.D.”
“Pompeii?” asked Laurel.
“It’s where I last saw your sister alive. Time is already fragile there. One bad mistake and we’re fucked.”
“Got it,” said Laurel, crossing her arms over her chest. She had on a suit, similar to her Black Canary one but slightly different. More cloth and less leather. She had to admit she could move around in it a lot better. Mick had told her there was still light armor plating in it, to protect her if she were to get injured. That thought had her hand going back to her still tender stomach despite the healing of the ship’s A.I.
“Strap in,” ordered Mick and Laurel followed his orders. She’d put two and two together on who he was. He admitted to her that things happened where he wasn’t the same person. Things that still haunted him. Things he didn’t want to talk about. But he knew his stuff here. So she took her seat, strapped in, and within seconds they were gone.
Mermaids AU - Laurel and Sara Lance have never been normal. They don’t mind, they like it that way.
Leonard Snart and Mick Rory needed to disappear and it was well known that Leonard tended to avoid the beach which made this the perfect spot, just as they’d expected.
Their neighbors, the Lance sisters? Now that was unexpected.
