A/N: Thank you for your patience. Just a heads up here, I dislike Amaya. She is my least favorite of all the Legends and I especially tire of her on the show. Here I'm trying to write here in a more pleasing nature, or at least, a less insufferable one. If you don't agree with my take and what I've done with her, that's fine. But I only ask that constructive criticism is all you leave in your comments.



4:00 AM - Central City; The Waverider

January 18th, 2017

"Check again."

"Miss Jiwe, there have been no changes to the present timeline since our arrival in 2017."

"Again, please Gideon."

A moment passes and then, "There have been no changes to the timeline."

Sighing, Amaya runs a delicate hand over her face and then pinches the bridge of her nose as a headache surfaces. Pointless, she thinks moodily. I'm making absolutely no headway.

Unable to sleep, she's been standing in the library for hours, eyes fixed on the small monitors mounted into the interior walls of the Waverider. Earlier Captain Lance released the team to their private vacations, calling it much needed. Disapproving, Amaya refused to place her mission on hiatus and enjoy the recess.

It's selfish, her thoughts growl. To take time for leisure while a murderer runs freely.

"Gideon, check again. Please."

A pause. "There have been no changes made to the current timeline."

"Have any changes been made to any timeline?"

"Would you like me to expand the search perimeter to alternative timelines, Miss Jiwe?"

Amaya frowns. "Can you do that?" Gideon's advanced technology was much too difficult for a woman from 1942 to completely comprehend.

"Yes," the AI answered brightly. "I am fully equipped to research a wide variation of alternate realities. However, the process will take a sufficiently increased amount of time for completion."

"Do it," Amaya nods. "We'd best cover every corner that we can. Alert me when you've finished, and continue seeking changes in the timeline we reside in."

She turns away from her investigation to sit at the library's large wooden desk, and lets out a deep sigh. Books and maps cover the top of the dark oak. Nate's work, whatever that may be. The historian spent the most amount of time in the library - save for Captain Lance. And works on multiple projects at once, often letting his collections of research pile up.

Drumming her fingers on the desk, she chews her bottom lip while her thoughts run frantic. She's been on the Waverider for weeks now, having first come under the presumption that Heatwave had been the murderer of Hourman, the leader of the Justice Society of America. Amaya had snuck aboard the Waverider and attacked the burly arsonist from the shadows, only to land herself caged like a beast in the ship's holding cell, lost for answers and nowhere near catching her prey.

I'm failing him, she blinks, thinking of Rex and how far she was from avenging him. Tears build and Amaya attempts to will them away. Though it proves to be of no use. Her heart has been shattered.

Rex had been impressive from the beginning, with his Miraclo and sharp mind. He was honorable and admirable as a commander. He was patient and serious, level headed and strong. Everything someone of his ranking was expected to be. He'd worn different masks, as they say. A scientist, a military man, a secret agent, a superhero.

A lover, who'd held Amaya tightly with bed sheets draped over their naked, sweating bodies and whispered sweet promises in her ear. They'd vowed to be together, truly together - after their time with the JSA had come to an end. They'd find a way, after their duties, to begin a life for themselves.

A life we will never have now, Amaya sniffles and wipes at her eyes. In her lap rests her left hand, a metallic and jeweled symbol of love and devotion decorating the third finger. It was simple, elegant; with a golden band and beautiful, sizable diamond.

"Timeless," Rex had said, as he fingered a lock of her dark brown hair, twirling and twisting hypnotically. "Like you."

"Rex," she breathed, staring at the engagement ring he'd given on bended knee, her vision blurred by tears. The diamond and gold striking against her mocha colored skin. "It's too much. I can't-"

"You can," he'd said gently, a hand snaking around her thin waist to pull her closer. She leaned into him easily, fitting her small frame to his solid form.

Amaya sighed faintly and rested her cheek against his muscled chest, as she had so many times throughout their years together.

"I plan on spending the rest of my days showering you with affection, Amaya." He kissed the top of her head softly and brought the tips of his fingers under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "If you don't mind, I'd like to start today - right now, even. So long as you'll allow me…"

She didn't bother to wipe away the tears that silently slipped down her cheeks. "Yes," she breathed. "Yes, of course!"

Rex flashed her a brilliant smile and cupped her face in both of his hands. His eyes shined and he leaned in closer to her, making her heartbeat at an impossible rate. As he came within inches from her, he whispered lowly, "You are everything to me, my darling."

And Amaya felt herself melt into a kiss of such love and devotion and infinite trust, she could barely hang on to her surroundings. All that mattered was this moment, with her and Rex and the future that was theirs for the taking...

"Gideon!" the shout makes Amaya practically jump out her own skin. She blinks and quickly turns her gaze to the doorway just as Nate rushes into the library.

He takes no notice of her, too involved in his own buzzing thoughts. His hands flick and fly about, animating his chaotic process of deductive reconstruction. He shrugs out of a heavy winter coat, revealing a rumpled shirt. It's clear he'd been having a difficult time finding sleep, even his hair sticks out in every direction.

"Gideon, I think I've come up with something!" Nate shouts at the AI, unaware that he is being watched by his newest teammate. "We know Rip is stranded somewhere in place and time, and if I could just get a better insight into the way he thought. The pattern in which he worked, yah know? Maybe there's a clue somewhere. If we look at his most visited destinations along the timeline, maybe we can narrow down a likely place he's hiding in."

"Mr. Heywood," The AI chirps, a monitor displaying a long list of various places throughout time. "Captain Hunter most frequented the year 2166."

"He wouldn't go there," Amaya softly speaks. She's uncertain if her statement is true. Perhaps Rip Hunter would return to his own home and live out his days while his wife and child were lost to him forever. She certainly could not do it.

"No," Nate shakes his head, barely glancing at her. "His own time would be way too risky…" His voice trails off in thought. It's but a split-second later that he snaps his face up and gapes at her tear streaked face. "Woah, hey. You okay?"

She wipes her eyes and clears her throat. "Just tired. I've been up all night, my eyes are a bit watery from reading."

Nate smirks at her and crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight to lean against the bookshelf he stands by. "You know, you're not that great at lying."

Amaya purses her lips together and glares at him. Rex had always teased her of the same and the memory stabbed at her heart. Again, her eyes fill.

He notices. "Hey, no, please don't cry. I'm sorry, I'm just messing around."

"What are you doing here?" She snaps. "It's the dead of night!"

"Couldn't sleep." Nate merely shrugs. "Despite Mrs. Jefferson's hospitality and amazing cooking, it felt weird trying to catch a few z's anywhere else."

"You feel at home on the ship."

He smiles, "Yeah. I guess so. I dunno, it feels nice to be part of a team."

Amaya bites her lower lip and casts her eyes down. She had - has - a team back home. Back in her own time. And she could not forget that, ever. She was not abandoning the JSA, but she could not return yet either. Not until Rex had been avenged.

If judged by the progress I've made, I could never return home. She rises, needing to escape the room and find solitary.. She will not cry in front of this stranger. "Excuse me," she moves around the desk, as quickly Nate steps before her and blocks her exit.

"Amaya," his voice is soft, but firm. "You can talk to me. What's wrong? Is it-"

"I am fine, Nathaniel." She frowns, and lifts her chin. "And I would rather be alone, please."

He doesn't move at first, fidgeting as he comes up with some sort of answer for her. "I don't think..." he begins, and runs a hand through his messy hair. "Alright. I'm sorry I barged in here and, look, if you decide you don't want to be alone, I'm gonna be here for the rest of the night. You can help me work."

She wants to bark that she doesn't have time for his work. Her work, her mission is the only one of importance. And, since the Legends have decided to set aside their searches for Captain Hunter and Hourman in order to relish in recreational time, any waking moment she has is to be dedicated to the investigation.

But he's the first to pay mind to her condition. She nods her consent, "I'll help you."

He grins widely. "Great! Gideon, we're going to need some caffeine for this."

"Certainly, Doctor Haywood." The brief walk to the kitchen results in their needing to wait for the coffee to finish brewing. They wait, awkwardly standing around and avoiding the elephant in the room that is Amaya's deceased fiancé.

"I'm sorry," Nate breaks the tension quietly. His arms folded across his chest as he leans against the counter, waiting.

Amaya lets out a sigh, "Please, let us just dismiss it for the night."

He nods. "Right, right. Sometimes I dwell on stuff, sorry."

The coffee machine beeps twice, signifying the finishing of their coffee. Nate grabs two mugs from the cupboard and hands one to Amaya.

"So," she says. "What are we working on tonight?"

"Well," when he finishes pouring his coffee, he reaches out to fill her mug. "Like I said earlier, if we can just figure out Rip's pattern, his train of thought, we'd probably get an inkling of where he'd hide himself."

She takes a sip of her coffee, "Maybe he kept a journal."

"Maybe," Nate shrugs. "We'd have to look for it. Unless...Gideon? Any idea if Captain Hunter kept a diary?"

"Captain Hunter held personal files on the main computer in his study."

"Awesome!" Nate smiles.

"All of which were erased upon his departure."

He groans. "Damn it."

"Well," Amaya offers. "We still have the travel files to go through."

Taking their drinks with them, the two settled in the Captain's office, both monitors turned on and projecting lists of Rip's travels since gaining the Waverider. The agenda sporadically ran all over time, showing the Waverider landed in various places across the globe. Most were obvious assignments from the Time Masters to keep history and future alike in tact.

"Mexico again," Nate mutters. "May 20th, 1520. The Temple Massacre, as we historians call it." He looks over at Amaya, who takes notes of all the places he points out could possibly lead to a clue. "Westmoreland County, Virginia. February 22nd, 1732. George Washington's birth. April 14th, 1865. Assassination of Abraham Lincoln." He scratches his head. "Huh, didn't think Rip would be so interested in American history."

"America has shaped the entire world," she answer, eyes on the computer monitor. "For better and for worse."

"Yeah," he nods. "That hasn't really changed…"

"September 7th, 1996. Las Vegas." Amaya jots down the date on a notepad.

Using two fingers, Nate taps his forehead, heart and shoulders, making the sign of the cross. "RIP Makaveli."

Amaya frowns at him. "Who?"

"Uh," Nate scoffs. "Only the greatest rapper of all time!"

She raises a delicate brow at him. "Wrapper? As in, for candy?"

He can't help the smile that reaches his face, finding her confusion adorable. "No, not like that. Rap is a type of music that emerged in the late 1970s. Makaveli - Tupac, actually - was one of the greatest of his time. But his career didn't last long, since he was murdered in a drive-by shooting."

She stares at the date, her face morphing to one of mixed confusion and interest. "Why was he murdered?"

"Gangs," Nate answers simply, as if that provided enough. "Real sad though, he was such a boss."

"He lead his own mafia?"

"Well, no, not in the sense that you understand. But he was definitely a revolutionary for the music industry."

"Hello?!" Ray's voice rings through the halls of the Waverider, his stomps growing louder as he comes closer to their location. "Is anyone here?! I need help!"

Quickly, Nate and Amaya spring from their seats and run out of the office just as the Atom rounds the corner to the bridge. "Oh my God!" He pants. "Guys - I - Sara - big - big - snow - and - and - then -"

"Woah, dude, take a breath." Nate clamps a hand on Ray's shoulder, trying to help hold him steady as the technologist bends slightly in exhaustion. "What about Sara?"

"She's gone!"

Amaya frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she literally vanished!" Ray straightens. His clothes are soaked and covered with snow and his nose and cheeks are red from being out in the cold for an extended amount of time. "Look, we ended up running into her dad - which, by the way, told us there's a super squad called the Legion of Doom terrorizing Central City. So, definitely check into that. And then, then there was this, like, crazy blizzard. I'm talking out of this world! I couldn't see, couldn't hear anything and it was freezing. When it finally stopped, Sara was gone!"

"Maybe she ran for shelter?" Nate supplies.

Ray shakes his head. "I thought of that, but every building around us was locked up."

"It's Sara, don't you think she'd break her way in?"

"I mean, sure. But you guys don't understand. This storm was intense. There's no way she could have seen anything. I couldn't see my own hand before my face! It was nuts, absolutely insane."

"So what do we do?" Amaya looks between the men. "Obviously we have to find her."

Nate nods in agreement. "Yeah, but where?"

"We should call the rest of the team on the comms and send out a search party. Contact the Flash at S.T.A.R. Labs too - Sara's dad told us to talk them anyway. And - oh! Oh my God, I can't believe I forgot this part! I mean, you guys aren't gonna care as much because you didn't know him like we did -"

"Who?" They say in unicent.

"Leonard Snart!" Ray practically shouts. "He's alive!"

They'd heard snippets of who he was from the others - mostly Jax and Professor Stein filling them in whenever they'd asked who used to occupy the empty, unused living quarters next to Heatwave's. Or they'd catch Rory swearing under his breath and muttering "If Snart were here…" and "Snart would've done it the right way…" But never had they actually known the man. And neither had they expect him to be alive, what with the team so completely certain that had perished nearly a year ago.

"How could he -?"

"Miss Jiwe," Gideon speaks over them. "As you requested, I have finished my analysis and have found no errors in any of the multiverse or alternate timelines."

She blinks, remembering how just an hour ago she'd been demanding for help in locating anything to lead to an end in Rex's murder mystery. And again, her attention had been drawn elsewhere, thanks to the Legends. "Yes, thank you Gideon."

"However," the AI continues. "There has been a change to the current timeline."