{ We stand shoulder to shoulder

[strongerthanyouknow]

Who: Sara Lance + Oliver/Legends/Team Arrow
What: Checking Out Her Stand-In
When: Shortly After Oliver Offered
Where Arrow Cave, underneath Verdant
Warning: ... all the normal ones for Sara Lance?

---

She's already told her people: where she's going and where their backup base of operations is (with Oliver, in the Arrow Cave) until Gideon is fixed from the newest shade of broken she's in. That's normal enough. One or two people in the know of where she's going, how to find her, if the world goes sideways in this place and she's needed at a moments notice.




There's something to being back in here.
Here, instead of where she belongs.


The second time in less than a year when that's true, that she doesn't have the Waverider and feels an adriftness from it she hates. Even if it's buried deep under the speculative look she's giving the room. Still, there's the unwrinkled constancy of Oliver and her team are with her this time. Comfort as much as it was extra weight to figure her -- and their -- way out of this as soon as possible.


[ OOT: Thread Original Here. All threads welcome to be continued and added to. ]

Comments

[strongerthanyouknow]

There isn't a punch that could be landed on her skin or mind that hits the force of the sound that chokes out of Oliver against her lips, and she's done something so fundamental to her core wrong that making that happen, having to hear it, feel it escape, jagged, and ragged, and torn from denial and survival, like she reached in and ripped some part of what was left of his heart, his soul, against her skin, that alone threatens to split her, before he's kissing her back with a force to match it.

A shunt of somewhere to throw everything in him behind that sound at.

Rushed and hard, frantic with desperation, and grief. Her, and Laurel, and this place.
Things that she knows, that are all falling from her in seconds, because nothing is staying.

Nothing but the way everything gives, the way she would give anything, everything, he needs if he needs it from her. Light. Hope. Faith. Grief. Desperation. Defeat. Fingers digging into against skin and hair, and dragging him into her, and that goddamn unmoving table, kissing him back, as though none of this had come close enough, become too dangerous, gone too far already.

[havingprecision]

It's not her fault.
It's. Not.
Oliver would rather know than continue to operate in uncertainty. Not knowing what his future holds. To have something concrete, no matter how devastating, matters.

He will one day fail Laurel.
He will fail Sara.

But Sara will never fail him. She will always be there and he pours his grief and guilt and relief into every kiss, every clash of lips and teeth and tongue. Fingers tight enough to leave bruises, but he can't care.

Sara.
All that matters is Sara.
He couldn't manage this without her.

[strongerthanyouknow]

She isn't afraid of the ferocity of the fingers that dig in against her skin,
or this kiss that threatens to split lips and knock teeth.

Nothing that he could throw at her, beyond the edge of a cliff could surprise or frighten her entirely. That's not the only problem that raises up here, and there, and there. It's only being stuck. It's only that stupid table, and Sara's seriously done with the damn table.

At least sort of.

There isn't even a pause.

Sara doesn't even think about breaking this kiss yet. One hand slides up, fingers curving around the back of his head, and the other finds the edge of the table. One foot finding the flat of a support bar on it, and using that only to go about pushing herself up on the edge of it, and screw the fact it makes a slight screeching sound of movement.

She's done more with less, and could, even blind.
She's done of any of them now, except done.
Rules, and walls, and space.

Everything, that isn't, using her freed hand to grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer,
to that same edge that had galed her, between her knees, still kissing him.