71Rocket is very small. Incredibly small. As such, she feels delicate to the touch, fragile and oh-so-breakable. Nyssa knows this isn't quite as true as it seems, having seen little Sarookh catapult herself off of every surface imaginable. But still, this fragility, real or imagined, has brought out a tenderness in Nyssa, of touch and of the heart.
It's not the first time, of course. The first time Nyssa truly found herself capable of this tenderness was when she nursed her Taer al-Asfer back to health, and she has touched and loved Sara both gently and fiercely ever since.
But as Nyssa scoops little Sarookh into her arms, holding her close against her chest, she is still surprised by the genuine love she feels for Sara's (their) canine companion.
Sarookh is tired. They have had her out and about all day: a morning visit to Felicity at Queen Consolidated, lunch with Captain Lance, and then a few hours at the three-meal-a-day soup kitchen they set up in the Glades last week. (Cleaning up a city takes more than rounding up criminals: when a population is less desperate, it is less violent, which is why the hospital recently became the beneficiary of a very generous, anonymous trust and the soup kitchen will soon expand to both a shelter and a jobs program, which is what this morning's meeting with QC's new owner was about.)
So the exhausted pup easily relaxes into Nyssa's arms, resting her snout in the crook of Nyssa's elbow, contentedly closing her eyes.
Nyssa keeps her there, little heartbeat fast against her breast, and heads upstairs to where Sara is showering. Sarookh grunts at the movement as Nyssa climbs the stairs, and Nyssa shushes her soothingly.
Sara is towel-drying her hair when they enter the bedroom, a t-shirt pulled on casually, and she smiles when she sees them.
"Someone's sleepy, huh?"
"She had a long day," Nyssa says, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"Me too," Sara grins. "I thought I might stay in tonight. Watch a movie with Sin and Rocket, let Laurel go out without training wheels with Sar'ab and the others."
"You could use a break," Nyssa approves.
"You could too. Wanna join us?"
"I promised Thea we would go out. She wants more practice handling the bow in hand to hand combat."
"You know," Sara says, stepping forward, all long legs and fresh faced and home. "The last time you were this involved with training someone, there was a lot more than just training going on…"
Nyssa rolls her eyes, hands occupied with Rocket but itching to touch Sara.
"If you are implying that you should be jealous, habibti-"
"Should I?" Sara asks, but her eyes are dancing with mirth, and Nyssa knows no actual accusations are being made.
"Thea Queen is barely more than a child."
"She's the same age I was when you met me!" Sara objects as she draws closer, a grin threatening to give away the game Nyssa knows she is playing.
"And I was likewise much younger. Regardless, you have no reason to be jealous and you know it."
"I know it," Sara concedes, as she takes Nyssa's face in her hands and tips her head back for a kiss, long and slow, radiating warmth.
It speaks to Rocket's exhaustion that she waits several minutes before interceding in all this attention and affection being directed at someone besides her. She huffs and moves out of Nyssa's hold, pawson Sara's chest.
Sara laughs and pulls away just a little. Their knees still brush against each other, but she moves her hands to Rocket's face.
"I am still going out with Thea tonight."
"Fine," Sara grins, looking from Rocket back to Nyssa. "You and Thea can go play with your bows and arrows. We're gonna have a lot of ice cream while you're gone, though."
"I have no doubt."
As soon as the man drops, completely limp, to the asphalt, Sara knows Oliver is going to be trouble about this.
She hadn't intended to end this scumbag's life, exactly, but she also hadn't, exactly, been gentle with him, nor trying very hard to keep him alive. She'd swung her bo with the screams of his latest victim in her ears and the reports of his previous victims in her mind. Had that made her swing harder? Maybe. Had it made her pay no mind to the concrete block in the way of his head as she threw him to the ground? Definitely.
Hooded, Oliver joins them in the alley, asking in his altered voice, "Ready to take your guy down to the precinct?"
Sara glances back towards Nyssa and Sar'ab briefly. Oliver catches the look and drops to a knee beside their mark, checking his pulse.
He rises, face darkening.
"You killed him!"
"He tripped!" Sara defends, just a little facetious.
"We had a deal," Oliver growls, stepping in.
Nyssa steps in, too, almost between them, hand on her knife, but Sara lays a calming hand on her forearm.
"We said no killing, within reason. This guy was a serial rapist. If I was a little less restrained than usual, I think that's reasonable."
"I don't do things this way, Sara."
"No, I haven't seen you bothering to do much about the rampant sexual violence in the Glades."
"Sara."
"Oliver."
There is a tense moment, and then Sar'ab speaks.
"If you would like to terminate this agreement, Oliver, that can be arranged."
Sara knows what he's doing, diffusing this before it goes further, and she appreciates it. Nyssa has been looking for a reason to kick Oliver's ass, and now isn't the time.
"No," Oliver finally says. "Let's, uh, let's talk about this problem. And the nonlethal ways of dealing with it."
"Okay," Sara says. "I'll call my dad about this and get it cleaned up. Felicity and Laurel have some ideas about a QC funded rape crisis center, so you should probably talk to them about it. We just go after the assholes Laurel tells us to."
Oliver glances down to the corpse again.
"Serial?"
"Six we know of. We interrupted number seven."
She sees something click behind his mask.
"He tripped?"
"Clumsy little shit," Sara nods.
"Alright."
Their comms ping.
"Everything okay where you guys are?" Felicity asks. "Arsenal, Speedy, and Black Canary just finished up on Elm."
"All good," Sara assures. "I'm gonna handle clean up here. The Arrow's gonna come back. He wants to talk about that project we were talking about yesterday."
"Oh! Great! I'll get the charts.
"Great," Sara smiles. "Have fun."
Oliver takes his leave, and Sara turns back to Nyssa and Sar'ab.
"He is more trouble than he is worth," Nyssa comments in Arabic.
"He did not have such squeamish morals when I knew him," Sar'ab replies in kind.
"It's new," Sara says. "And it's noble and well-intentioned, if completely moronic. How are our other two patrols tonight?"
"Gamma's has been uneventful. Beta delivered a few Bratva enforcers to SCPD's central precinct ten minutes ago," Sar'ab reports.
"Okay. Go join Gamma."
"As you command, Taer al-Asfer," Sar'ab gives a minute bow.
Then it's Sara, Nyssa, and a dead rapist in the alley.
"Are you alright, habibti?"
"Yeah," Sara assures her. "Let's call Dad and then go check on Mariana. I want to make sure she got home alright after a run in with this guy and three vigilantes dropping in."
Her gasp gives her away, as it usually does. Nyssa is already awake, though, looking at her with concern in her liquid dark eyes, arms already reaching around her shoulders.
"You are safe, habibti," Nyssa says softly. "I have you."
Sara's breathing evens out, and the vestiges of the cries of mourning children are chased away.
"He deserved his fate."
"I know."
"There is no one to mourn his passing."
Sara closes her eyes, breathes out: "I know. It was the right thing to do."
"Yes," Nyssa says quietly.
"It just… You know, memories."
"I know," Nyssa nods, kissing her temple.
"I'll be fine," Sara promises. And she will. With Nyssa warm against her, grounding her, the recurring nightmares easily retreat, and she settles down, head on Nyssa's shoulder, breathing her in. "Go back to sleep."
"If you insist."
Nyssa has one arm around her still, but she relaxes against the pillows.
"Thank you," Sara says softly.
"Always."
Quentin checks his watch. It's unlike his daughter and her… Nyssa to be late, even for a casual lunch like this. It's either Nyssa's influence or League training that's responsible; his Sara used to be chronically late.
He's at a café (with outdoor seating so they can bring Rocket) not far from their absurdly expensive home, and he's about two seconds from calling Sara when Nyssa arrives, large bag slung over one shoulder and Rocket's leash held in the other hand. He stands as the excitable pup does a full body wriggle upon seeing him.
"I apologize for our tardiness, Captain," Nyssa greets. "We were called upon as last minute babysitters."
As she explains, Sara rounds the corner with an infant on her hip, precariously balancing her own Rockets hat on the baby's head as they both laugh.
"Hey, Dad," Sara says as she gives him a one-armed hug. "Hope it's okay we brought Baby Sara. John and Lyla's nanny called in sick, and rather than either of them rearranging stuff, they asked us."
"Ah, so this is the infamous Sara Diggle," Quentin grins. "Not a problem. I'm glad to finally meet her." He watches with interest as Sara easily hands the baby off to Nyssa and the Heir to the Demon bounces a ten-month-old on her lap.
They make small talk about Rocket's shenanigans, the Rockets' playoff chances, and what a bang up job they're doing in the Glades. Lance has to admit this summer was amazing, even though he knows this idyll will be over soon after Halloween. He has taken to glaring at every leaf that turns as another reminder that his time with unfettered access to Sara is finite.
Baby Sara transfers with ease from lap to lap between his daughter and Nyssa, and Rocket hovers under her, should any Cheerios fall her way. It all feels so very normal, and he allows himself to wonder, briefly, if they are going to give him grandchildren some day. He doesn't voice the question, though; he doesn't want to be that parent, and there are some obvious complications, such as who his grandkids' other grandfather would be.
"So," he says instead. "I heard your sister is gonna leave the DA's office."
"Well, it's kinda an obvious conflict of interest," Sara grins, as Baby Sara rests on her shoulder. "Vigilante and prosecutor."
"Laurel is going to take over management of our social service endeavors in the Glades," Nyssa informs him.
"Well, that makes sense. Saving people day and night. Sounds like your sister. Though I'm kinda hoping the night part is just a phase."
Sara looks skeptical.
"You should see her in action these days. We really whipped her into shape. She kicks major ass."
"Not in front of the infant," Nyssa complains.
"Fine," Sara sighs. "Butt. She kicks butt. Baby Sara can't repeat anything I say yet."
"Yet," Nyssa underscores.
Sara rolls her eyes.
"So, Dad. Any hot dates recently?"
Quentin groans.
The dozen League assassins who traveled with them to Starling City still wear red and gold braids at their shoulders. Ra's is very into that symbolism these days.
She doesn't wear League standard anymore, either. A uniform not unlike Nyssa's with gold accents instead of red was crafted for Taer al-Asfer. Sara's still not quite sure what to do with Ra's's transformation from cool, distant tolerance to full, open embracing of her and her relationship with Nyssa.
But she does know why.
For as calculating and cruel as the Demon's Head can be, he does love his daughter, greatly. As they discussed in a tiny house in Coast City, the only way to keep Nyssa loyal to him, and therefore alive, was to secure Sara's loyalty. And the only way to keep Nyssa alive and with her was to give that loyalty to him. They share an interest in keeping Nyssa alive.
Ra's liked Sara Lance for her ability to do what is necessary, a part of her only the League has understood and fostered. She has no regrets about reclaiming her identity as Taer al-Asfer.
But sometimes, when League members with gold silk on their shoulders look to her with loyalty and reverence, follow the commands she so easily delivers, no questions asked… Well, that part can be unsettling.
They see Taer al-Asfer, Beloved of the Heir, raised from the dead in the Pits. Iradat al Ghul, the Will of the Demon. And that is a role she is still learning to play with the same ease as she plays Sara Lance and the Canary. They are all roles now, pieces of her true self played up for the audience in question. She's only her true self completely when she's alone with Nyssa (and Rocket, of course).
"Taer al-Asfer. The medical convoy has entered the city, and both the Triad and Bratva have been sniffing about as we expected. Neither has taken the bait yet," Al-Riyaah reports in Arabic. The older woman had joined a few years ahead of Sara, and they'd been assigned together a handful of times. It makes the new deference, however slight, hard to get used to.
"They probably smell the trap," Sara answers in kind. "Chien Na Wei left town and took most of her operations with her. What's left over won't move, yet. The Bratva, though…"
The apartment building they've picked gives them a good vantage point.
"If they do make the move," Al-Riyaah starts, glancing through field binoculars again, "The Heir will give them a painful surprise."
Sara chuckles, thinking of Nyssa and the six of their assassins waiting in the convoy Roy and Dig are driving.
"That's very true."
Starling City is practically child's play compared to the geopolitical machinations they are usually involved in, and Sara knows Oliver is getting annoyed at the glee the League members tend to take in the more violent parts of vigilantism. Sara thinks that's pretty hypocritical, and that he's lying to himself if he says he doesn't feel the need to just hit someone sometimes. Plus, glee or no, so far they've done pretty well on the not killing thing.
"The Triad is pulling out, the Bravta is making a move," Al-Riyaah reports.
Sara pulls up her veil.
"Let's not let them have all the fun."
"That doesn't look safe," Laurel muses as her sister hangs upside down from the bar of the salmon ladder. As much as Laurel has taken to many aspects of Nyssa and Sara's training, all of them have been ground-based. So far, this Canary is not so keen on flying. The younger Canary, however, isn't so good at keeping her feet firmly planted.
"It would be undignified to break your neck in such a manner," Nyssa tuts in that tender way she always addresses Sara.
"I'm fine," Sara shrugs them off, letting her fingers fall so that Rocket can chase them.
"Hey, Nyssa?" Sin calls from the kitchen where she and Thea are wrangling with take-out menus. "Can we get cheesy bread with the pizzas?"
Nyssa pauses, but Sara levels her with a look that speaks volumes, even when delivered from upside down.
"Yes, of course," Nyssa calls back as Sara flips herself up, briefly catching the bar in her hands before she drops back to her feet.
At first, Laurel found it a little strange how both Sin and Thea have started to treat Nyssa like a hybrid big sister/mother figure, but then she realized that both girls (young women) are sorely in need of maternal attention.
"Awesome! Thanks!" Sin replies.
"Don't be a spoil sport. It's girls' night," Sara chides when Nyssa is still making a face.
"I simply fail to understand why cheesy bread is necessary when pizza is already made up of mostly cheese and bread."
Sara laughs and kisses her cheek. "It's an American thing."
"You frequently use that excuse."
"C'mon. It's girls' night."
"And that one."
Laurel was hesitant to attend this "girls' night", even though she spends much of her time here anyway. She didn't know what her place would be amidst tequila shots and chick flicks. She should have known the second was incorrect, and the presence of the youngest guest tonight told her it was going to be tame enough. Any party with a baby probably isn't going to involve a ton of hard liquor and wild antics.
Sara Diggle sits with Lyla and Felicity in the living room, playing with her godmother's glasses. Rocket, ever fascinated by this human puppy, goes bounding over.
Sara (adult Sara) and Nyssa are being disgustingly cute again (not in a PDA way, just in a simultaneously bicker and finish each other's sentences way, a making her have ridiculous relationship goals way) so
Laurel moves over to the living room of this massive penthouse.
"And then we'll get you started in html as soon as you can type. Super basic, but you have to get started somewhere."
"Hacker preschool?" Laurel asks with a grin.
"You know it."
"Felicity is going to have her on an ARGUS watch list by kindergarten," Lyla notes.
"Only if I'm sloppy," Felicity says in a sing song-y voice as she moves Baby Sara close enough to almost get her glasses before moving her back.
Nyssa and Sara join them, and Baby Sara squeals with delight, reaching for Laurel's sister.
"And there goes my baby time," Felicity complains, mostly teasing.
"Aw, I'm sorry. It's just a Sara thing," Sara grins, taking the baby into her arms and blowing a raspberry on her cheek. Baby Sara giggles.
"She's too humble. In my experience, children are always drawn to Sara," Nyssa says.
"Because she still is one at heart," Laurel teases.
As if just to prove Laurel's point, Sara sticks her tongue out at her big sister.
As soon as Sara sits down, Rocket is on them, sniffing and licking both. The Saras laugh.
"Pizza's on the way," Thea announces as she and Sin flop onto the second couch, across the way.
"A lot of pizza," Sin seconds. "Obscene amount of pizza."
"Good, that's why I had you order," Sara grins. "Sin, do you have the list?"
"The list?" Laurel asks as Sin digs a piece of paper out of her pocket.
"Movies Nyssa still hasn't seen, despite my best efforts," Sara says. Nyssa sighs and rolls her eyes at the antics of her… well, Laurel just uses Beloved, because "girlfriend" just doesn't feel right. "I've removed most of the action movies, because believe me, you don't want to watch an action movie with Nyssa."
"The fight choreography is appalling!"
"We know," Sara soothes, rubbing Nyssa's shoulder with the hand not holding Baby Sara. "We know. Pass the list around, Sin. Let's make a decision."
They settle on a few comedies for the evening. They break only when the pizzas arrive, because no one can follow a movie and keep sneaky little Rocket away from their pizza at the same time. Except maybe Nyssa. She and Rocket have a staring contest when the dog approaches her, and Rocket blinks first, hastily moving on to Thea.
After swallowing a bite of the insisted upon cheesy bread, Laurel asks:
"So, Sin, do you like living here?"
"Yeah, it's great. Except for the fact that these two can't keep their hands off each other and have had sex on like every surface of the place - Don't worry, I keep a lot of Lysol handy."
Her reassurances don't stop Laurel from shuddering, but she is soon distracted by Sara sending a retaliatory napkin ball sailing towards Sin's head. It bounces harmlessly off Sin's temple, and Rocket rushes to investigate.
Good, Laurel thinks. Sara deserves to know what it's like to live with an annoying little sister.
Nyssa worries. It's hard not to.
Sara is happy, so happy, here that she can't imagine she will ever be this happy again, once this temporary idyll ends. The six months is a hard deadline and fast approaching, and as with many things with her father, this vacation in vigilantism is as much a test as it is a kindness. How willingly will Sara (and Nyssa herself) return to their place at his side in Nanda Parbat?
Sara does not worry, unless it is over any near misses Nyssa (or Laurel or Thea) have when patrolling the streets of Starling City. Instead, Sara smiles and laughs that enchanting laugh that Nyssa fell so hard for. She talks about the present with joy and the future with anticipation, but Nyssa still worries.
"Uh oh, someone's making a face."
Sara is striding though the doorway to their bedroom, dressed in a black v-neck t-shirt and colorful boy cut underwear. Sara sees little need for pants in the comfort of their own home, much to Nyssa's eternal delight and Sin's eternal, blushing embarrassment.
"I'm not making a face," Nyssa complains as Sara joins her on their bed, playfully straddling her with a look of reproach.
"You are," Sara says, poking Nyssa in the sternum. She leans forward, the sunlight catching in the golden hair surrounding her face and glinting off the canary pendant that hangs from her neck. Nyssa's hands find her hips. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Nyssa insists.
"No lies," Sara scolds in Arabic.
"I'm not lying," Nyssa replies in kind. "If there was a face, it was merely a contemplative one."
"Fine," Sara acquiesces, switching back to English. "What are you thinking about?"
"You," Nyssa answers easily, hands tracing up and down the outsides of Sara's thighs lightly, occasionally toying with the soft fabric at Sara's hips.
Sara narrows her eyes.
"Stop worrying. I'm happy now, and I'll be happy back in Nanda Parbat. You make me happy, Nyssa. You are home."
Nyssa leans up and kisses her then, because she is warmth and love incarnate. She's said these things before, but after the tumultuous two years behind them, Nyssa finds it hard to believe things can be this peaceful at the moment.
"Hey, Sar', are you - Oh god, not again - "
Sara pulls away laughing, just breathtakingly beautiful in her joy, illuminated in the mid-morning sun.
Sin is in the open doorway, hand thrown over her eyes.
"Okay, this one's kinda my fault, I know, but close the door! Come on!"
Sara twists to the door and grins: "We're just kissing, Sin."
"Well, it's hard to tell since you never wear pants," Sin complains. "I'll meet you downstairs."
"Sounds good," Sara laughs again.
As Sin turns away, the tell tale clink of fast-moving dog tags reaches Nyssa's ears, and Rocket comes bounding in.
"You're a braver woman than I, Rocket," Sin grumbles.
They're packed and ready to go. In fact, only Sar'ab remains with the Heir and her Beloved, the rest trickling back to Nanda Parbat over the last few days. Sara, jacket pulled tight against the cool fall air, gives Rocket one last Starling City walk.
The city where she almost died over a year ago spreads out around her. It's nice to get a little alone time with Rocket, like when it was just the two of them in Coast City. Unlike then, though, a whole host of friends and family await them at "home", to say their goodbye-for-nows.
Sara expected to be a little sadder than she is. Nyssa certainly keeps looking at her like she is going to breakdown at any moment. But as much as she'll miss the people she loves in this city, she's ready to move on. This was always temporary, and she's embraced it as such. She's just not Sara Lance anymore, and her friends and family understand that to varying degrees.
There is more out there for them, for her and Nyssa, than playing vigilante in Starling City. Their time here has stabilized the Glades, but those with the real calling, Laurel and Ollie, Thea and Roy, Felicity and Dig, can take it from here. Life has made her a bit of a wandering soul, and she is getting restless. Six months in one apartment is a long time for her.
They are keeping the apartment (which she thinks makes her dad feel better) and have even talked Sin into staying "to take care of the place". Laurel has hired Sin at the shelter, and Sara feels good knowing her sisters will be looking out for each other.
Oliver honestly seems a little relieved to be getting "his city" back, but he's come a long way. He's volunteering at the shelter, learning to consult with at least Felicity and Dig, and going on missions with Laurel without being a condescending prick. That last one is probably because one slow night they sparred in the Foundry and Laurel wiped the floor with him, but every little bit of growth helps.
Rocket finds a nice tree to mark as her own, after sniffing all the other messages left by the dogs of the neighborhood. Maybe Sara's only regret is separating Rocket and Sin, who have really bonded over the last six months. They'll visit, though, and Rocket is just as spoiled in Nanda Parbat as she is here. Ra's didn't even raise an eyebrow when they returned with her the first time, and Sara knows he sneaks her table scraps.
Sara breathes in the cool afternoon air and takes in the way the setting sun glints orange and red off the glass skyscrapers. She'll miss Starling City, but not enough to stay. This time she isn't running from anything. She isn't even running to anything. She's living her life by her choice, together with the love of her life and one super cute dog.
Rocket suddenly surges forward, yanking Sara's hand with her. She looks up and sees Nyssa walking towards them, in that stupid hat Sara endlessly teases her about but secretly finds sexy. Rocket strains to greet her.
"Everything okay?" Sara asks as Nyssa crouches down to pet Rocket briefly.
"Just fine," Nyssa answers, standing. "It was simply getting a little crowded in there. I thought I would find you two and accompany you on the rest of the walk."
"Okay," Sara smiles, taking Nyssa's extended hand. "You want one last milkshake?"
"They make milkshakes in places other than Starling," Nyssa complains, even though Sara knows she will eventually agree.
"Not like Big Belly Burger!"
Nyssa sighs, but Sara can see the grin touching her lips.
"Lead away, habibti."
fin
