He totally is though. He absolutely totally is. Absolutely, totally, is saying I told you so, Sara. With that stupid smile of his and that toast raised up.
Which maybe if the the him-that-he-wasn't-yet hadn't already done just the same thing as the whole thing was going on, in stages, in the few times they got to run into each other now, she might have a different reaction. But they're here, and there aren't aliens to fight or goodbyes to say, and they're just, even if just here, is like three feet and three years apart, what he gets is:
"Shut up, Ollie." He's not saying it, just like she's shaking her head, and walking away to get her daggers back out of the wall, because it might be utterly impossible for her to stop the smile pressed into her cheeks, or her cheeks from getting warm. Jackass. Only Oliver Queen.
Sara pried all three of her deep-sunk daggers out with ease. Two of them held flat to the palm of her hand by her last three fingers, while she tapped the flat of the third blade on the side of her hand, turning back with something of slightly less pleased expression. Because, this was really, all part of it. She thinks she knows the answer already, but the thing is as much as they've done everything, and they started this (more words he's never said yet), they haven't done this. Where they are, here. She is. He isn't. They both are.
"If you need some space, while figuring all of this out--" There's a shift of her head, because she means herself, her death, her existence, again. "--when you aren't need for dinosaurs and time flaw designs--" Having to be there as the Arrow. To help solve this. Work with her and the Legend, and everything that can't be quite handed over. She's using too many words. "--I'll understand."
no subject
He totally is though. He absolutely totally is.
Absolutely, totally, is saying I told you so, Sara.
With that stupid smile of his and that toast raised up.
Which maybe if the the him-that-he-wasn't-yet hadn't already done just the same thing as the whole thing was going on, in stages, in the few times they got to run into each other now, she might have a different reaction. But they're here, and there aren't aliens to fight or goodbyes to say, and they're just, even if just here, is like three feet and three years apart, what he gets is:
"Shut up, Ollie." He's not saying it, just like she's shaking her head, and walking away to get her daggers back out of the wall, because it might be utterly impossible for her to stop the smile pressed into her cheeks, or her cheeks from getting warm. Jackass. Only Oliver Queen.
Sara pried all three of her deep-sunk daggers out with ease. Two of them held flat to the palm of her hand by her last three fingers, while she tapped the flat of the third blade on the side of her hand, turning back with something of slightly less pleased expression. Because, this was really, all part of it. She thinks she knows the answer already, but the thing is as much as they've done everything, and they started this (more words he's never said yet), they haven't done this. Where they are, here. She is. He isn't. They both are.
"If you need some space, while figuring all of this out--" There's a shift of her head, because she means herself, her death, her existence, again. "--when you aren't need for dinosaurs and time flaw designs--" Having to be there as the Arrow. To help solve this. Work with her and the Legend, and everything that can't be quite handed over. She's using too many words. "--I'll understand."