Relief at Mick's voice break like a wave, and Sara's whole expression skips for a second, bright in her eyes, as she looks up, to be sure, and it is. It is Mick. She swallows that down (one of her accounted for; six to go) and goes back to what she was at before he answered.

"Working on that," Sara says, still doing exactly. Not entirely fully on screen anymore. Trying to figure out what in the hell actually just happened. To the world, to the Waverider, to her crew. "We seem to be back in Los Angeles, 2017 again."

Sara's shaking her head, even as she looks up.

"Unfixed Los Angeles, 2017." To be precise.