"Oh, I've got it," Nate burst out excitedly. "The Fellowship of Superheroes!"
Mick Rory was not impressed. "Too nerdy."
"No no no, we stick with Team Supers," Ray continued to insist. "Like I used to tell my old marketing department at Palmer Tech, clear, simple, and effective wins the day, every day."
Nate shook his head. "Too derivative. We already have Team Arrow, Team Flash..."
"Naw man," Jax interrupted the group as he stepped into the library. "I got it!" The young man looked eagerly at the three guests on the Waverider, eager to impress them along with the rest of his crewmates. "How about we call ourselves...the Legends of the Multiverse?!"
"Hmmm," Oliver hummed, and Kara wasn't quite sure whether the Green Arrow was actually considering the moniker, or merely humoring the Legends. "I guess it's not completely awful."
"Naw," Mick said, shutting down yet another one of his compatriot's ideas. "Cheapens the term. How would you know which team you're referring to when you say the word 'legend'? Us, or Skirt and Red and the rest of them?"
"Wow, Mick," Kara said. "That was actually kind of...profound."
"I'll let you in on a little secret about me, Supergirl. There's two things I'm really good at: stealing things, and how to use words within their proper context."
"Okay then," she said, laughing and seeing that all the rest of the men in the room, whether residents of the ship or visitors, seemed just as befuddled towards the former bank robber's cryptic sentence as she was. "To be honest, anything is better than Nate's Buffet of Heroes, no offense Nate."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, "definitely not one of your better efforts."
"Hey, in my defense, I was really hungry when I thought of that one..."
"Yeah, I really wish Cisco hadn't had so much to drink today," Barry whispered to her and Oliver with a smirk. "He would've had the perfect name for all of us within seconds."
The three stowaways had mostly recovered from the effects of the time jump by now. Oliver had fared the worst, having thrown up immediately upon arriving in 1708, and he still felt nauseous now, which meant that the Green Arrow was secretly grateful that the crew had to fix a few minor kinks in their wardrobe fabricator before the mission could commence. Barry, having time travelled before, merely felt a slight headache which went away in less than a minute whereas the ship's lone Kryptonian was mostly immune to its effects, apart from when she emerged into 1708 speaking fluent French, a talent Kara only wished she could retain after the fact.
"Replicator's repaired," their captain announced, arriving at the library with the professor, "we're ready to go."
"And for the record," Stein added discretely to their group when he thought that Sara's attention had shifted to one of Nate's books on the period, "the League of Extraordinary Superheroes is the glaringly obvious answer."
"That sounds kind of like something else," Ray Palmer said deep in thought, and Kara thought that Ray Palmer wore that befuddled face way too often for a billionaire genius...but only when he was surrounded by the rest of the Legends.
Kara turned to her captain for the day. "Do you guys always bicker this much?"
"Oh," Sara replied sporting a grin and accompanied what Kara was pretty sure was a wink, "just be glad you're not here when Nate and Martin are arguing about what music to play on the bridge..."
"This is sooooo cool," Supergirl gushed wearing the elaborate 18th century fabrics she'd just been gifted by the ship's AI. "So you can literally tell Gideon to create whatever wardrobe you're thinking of at the moment." Her dress was red and blue of course, aesthetics to match the supersuit she was more accustomed to.
"It gets old after awhile," Sara said to her nonchalantly, having just changed into a frilly white laced dress herself. Pausing and looking around, the former assassin then leaned in to whisper into Kara's ear. "It actual never gets old."
"I just wish these things were more comfortable." Hell, Kara figured James had never stepped within five feet of a knitting machine, and he could probably whip up a dress for her that didn't squeeze her in all the wrong places.
"Yeah, that's the downside," Sara sympathized. "Us women have had the shit end of history's stick when it comes to what we have to wear."
"Until they invented yoga pants," Kara muttered, and Sara nodded her head in agreement.
"Pro-tip, if you want a more comfortable mission, you should've joined us for one of our wild west ones. Or medieval Japan."
"I'm just glad I get to tag along anywhere...I mean, anytime that is," Kara replied, even as she pointed her fingers in the form of a gun and shot it at the wall, imagining for herself the cool cowgirl fantasy that apparently Sara Lance had enjoyed once or twice already. "Last time around, Oliver didn't trust me around a time-ship. Or to meet your President who...I guess didn't turn out to actually be your president."
"Hey! I already apologized for that. Twice!"
"Oh. My. God."
Any further inklings of apologies or past grudges were instantly forgotten when the entire room glimpsed the entrance of the remaining two guests. Barry actually seemed to mesh pretty well with his period clothing, but the mayor of Star City on the other hand...
"Oliver Queen in a giant wig," Kara guffawed, instantly finding her smartphone inside the infinite folds of her new dress. "Why I never."
"No, no, Kara, no pictures..." He made a move to lunge towards her camera phone, but obviously stood no chance against the Kryptonian's super speed.
"Too late," the triumphant reporter shouted out with glee, high stepping her way around the bridge as she waved her phone in the air. "Now this...this makes us even for you being a super jerk to me last time around."
"No one can ever see that," Oliver threatened broodingly, as the entire ship got a good laugh in at his expense. Even Ray, he noted unhappily.
"It's not that bad," Barry tried comforting him, though he did not speak with much conviction.
"You know," Sara said, giggling as she rubbed the sides of his face, "men in this time period are supposed go cleanshaven."
"Well I'm an officer in the army, that's my cover right? A little scruff adds to the realism." He squinted his eyes at his old friend and occasional former lover. "Shouldn't we be going over the mission plan right now?"
"Mission plan schmission plan," Nate scoffed, looking rather dandy under his long brown wig. Dandy in a very nice way, Kara thought. "Technically we make plans," the historian tried explaining to the newcomers, "but typically they..."
"Don't survive contact with the enemy," Martin Stein finished his sentence more elegantly.
"Simple enough," Mick Rory said as he barged onto the bridge, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Oliver in his period attire. "It's probably a trap. We walk into it. We blast our way out."
"Yeah, that's kinda how it usually goes," Ray said uneasily, "unfortunately." Both Oliver and Kara looked in disbelief towards their captain for the day, and Sara's deadpan smirk told them all they needed to know about the veracity of Ray's statement.
"Look, it's simple," Sara began. "Barry, you scout the castle, let us know if and where any Legion members show up, or if they have my sister stashed anywhere. Kara, Amaya, and myself will infiltrate the Queen's court, get a lock on her locations, routines, etc. Nate and Barry then pose as guards for the Queen, keep an eye on her and stop any assassins who may or may not be related to me. Ray, stick close to us in court and keep a lookout for stray supervillains, Oliver and Mick, patrol the outer perimeters and Martin and Jax will remain on the ship guarding the amulet and Spear, and ready to Firestorm if things go wrong."
"When things go wrong," Jax emphasized.
"Sounds like a plan," Barry agreed hurriedly, and the group was about to disperse when Kara spoke out.
"Hey, I can help Barry case the place out, get a second set of eyes." She tapped her head to remind them. "The whole X-Ray vision and all."
"Right, forgot about that," Sara remarked, wondering whether Kara ever used that particular talent set on any of them.
"We'll get it done in half the time," she continued, seeing that Amaya was looking at her rather suspiciously, "then I'll join you ladies in court in no time."
"Works for me," their captain agreed.
Amaya did not fully trust her yet, Kara sensed. She had objected to her joining on the mission after all, and Kara would have loved a chance to get to know the woman better and try to build some bridges, but she sensed more importantly that right now, she needed to talk to Barry...alone.
"Hey, what's up with you?"
Both meta and alien had already made made rounds outside Kensington Palace, sensing no hostile activity before changing back into their period outfits with the assistance of super speed.
"What do you mean?"
"Something's bothering you, Barry." He made a move to brush her off, but she continued before he could. "Don't deny it, Barry, I can tell...it has to do with Oliver, doesn't it?"
She was clearly making him uncomfortable, but the alternative was worse. Weren't secrets around that Flashpoint fiasco the reason for so much of the tensions on their last mission together? She wanted to help, she wanted to prevent anything bad happening two people who were fast becoming two of her best friends, and she needed to make sure that Barry's head was unclouded by anything that could distract him from the mission.
"Look," he hesitated, before realizing that she wasn't about to let it go. "I'll tell you, but only because you're not as embroiled in all this as the rest of us, being from another universe and all...but don't tell anyone, okay? Especially not Oliver..."
She frowned skeptically crossed her arms at her speedster friend. "I feel like we've learned our lessons about keeping secrets from our team..."
"I've got Laurel Lance locked up in one of the deepest cells in Star Labs right now," Barry finally blurted out, leaving Kara in shock. "But...it's not her...it's not their Laurel...our Laurel, from our Earth."
Briefly he explained the appearance of the Laurel known as the Black Siren from Earth-2, and how they had fought and apprehended her last year.
"And you're sure she's in Star Labs right now? That she can't time travel?" The story seemed implausible, except Kara could not forget that her own current presence on Earth-1 happened to be precise evidence of said implausibility.
"I made very sure," Barry affirmed. "Look, I know Oliver needs to know. But the timing of it, so soon after Darhk killed his Laurel...it hasn't been the easiest year for him, Kara."
"No it hasn't," she agreed sympathetically. "But you know Oliver better than me. He's not the kind of person to ever live an uncomplicated life. If you keep making excuses, you'll never find the right time to tell him."
"You're right. But assuming our hypothesis is correct, and Thawne took Laurel and brought her here as a trap for the Legends...you know what we have to do at the end of the mission, don't you?"
It took her a few seconds, but then her eyes widened in realization. "We have to bring her back," Kara said, all the fun and thrill of the mission suddenly deflated in her mind. "We have to put her back in her time...and let her die like she originally died, without telling her about any of it."
Barry nodded glumly. "I'm pretty sure Oliver knows that too."
"And it's been killing him ever since he stepped aboard the Waverider." Sara too, Kara realized, her new friend was about to lead a mission to save her sister, only to set her back on the path of certain death again. Oliver clearly handled such traumas the way he handled everything else, by keeping to himself and brooding, but Sara? Their brave, jovial leader who somehow had not managed to betray an ounce of the deep personal torment she was clearly going through at the moment? The captain of the Waverider seemed to gain esteem in Kara's mind with every passing minute.
"I get it," she conceded. "But I still think you should tell Oliver sooner rather than later...secrets...they don't just go away, they're like a cancer; let them fester, and they'll keep poisoning the well worse and worse, until it's too late."
Barry nodded in agreement, and a deep, dark voice whispered in the back of her head, that if only she could follow her own advice...
"They're literally playing soft violin music in the background," Kara gushed quietly as the three of them made their way through the ballroom, all three ladies receiving strange looks due to their debutante status in the court of Queen Anne. "This is like...every single fancy dress party I've seen on TV."
"Except you can't break time watching television," Amaya replied, clearly not sharing her enthusiasm.
"No, but you can waste a lot of it." To her chagrin, Amaya did not laugh at her joke.
"We've got eyes on the Queen," Sara whispered to both her companions as well as into her headset. At the front of the room was a small chair, nothing like the throne chairs on Game of Thrones, Kara thought. Upon the very swordless throne sat a plump and petite woman attended to by a lady who looked more protective of her Queen than even all the royal guards.
"Who's the woman hovering above her," Kara whispered softly.
"She's quite a looker," Sara commented.
"That's probably Sarah Churchill," Nate responded over their comms, "Duchess of Marlborough, Queen Anne's closest advisor and quite possibly her lover, many historians believe. Including myself."
"Oh, now you tell me," Sara purred back into her headset.
"Shall we introduce ourselves," Kara said, trying her best to imitate a British accent. By the looks she received, it wasn't a good one.
"Maybe I'll do the talking," Amaya replied in a perfect accent that surprised both her comrades. "What? I happened to be a wartime spy, you know."
"That is also, so cool," Kara gushed, trying to inch her way into Amaya's good graces.
"No need for accents," Nate whispered into their ears. "Speak as you normally would, the British accent as we know it doesn't actually arise until half a century later."
"Good to know," Sara said, as they approached their royal mark for the evening, each one of them bowing or curtsying in various degrees of awkwardness.
"New to court," the Duchess of Marlborough asked haughtily, as if she could barely be bothered to greet them. Then her soft yet deadly perceptive eyes turned to Amaya, whose appearance stood out inside the court. "Interesting choice of companions you choose to bring before Her Royal Majesty."
Showing barely any reaction, Amaya curtsied again, hers the most graceful out of their three. "A pleasure, Lady Marlborough, Your Majesty."
"This is Lady Amaya Jiwe," Sara said, eyes subtly shifting around the entire court for any sign of her sister. "Of Gibraltar."
"Ah," the Duchess sighed satisfactorily, "one of the newer additions to Her Majesty's domains."
"Yes, and I look forward to serving Your Majesty and ensuring a warm and productive relationship in the years to come," Amaya replied with perfect diplomacy.
"The two of you are?" The Queen seemed to take notice of their small group for the first time.
"Lady Kara of Midvale."
"Oh," the Queen seemed to register confusion as she spoke, looking immediately to the Duchess for guidance. "I haven't heard of any...Midvale within my domains."
"We're a very small town," Kara said nervously. First time-travel mission, and she was already blowing it. "A village, a hamlet, really, and our House is uh...very unremarkable."
"Obviously," the woman who was apparently Winston Churchill's great great great something replied snootily. "And you?"
"Lady Sara..." Fuck she'd forgotten the cover Nate gave her. "...of, uh...Nanda Parbat."
"Nanda Parbat?" The Queen looked again to her Duchess. "Is that one of your husband's newest conquests, Lady Marlborough?"
"If it is, he hasn't seen fit to inform me yet."
"It's in Gibraltar," Sara added hastily. "North Gibraltar, that is."
"I see," the Queen said, though she clearly remained more than a little befuddled of her new courtesans.
"North Gibraltar," a deep male voice echoed behind them. "I have not heard of a North Gibraltar...unless you are referring to the Spanish Empire?"
"Uhhh, it's between Gibraltar proper and uh Spain...proper." Sara turned to face an older man, very dignified and possessing a pair of very intelligent, dark eyes. He was accompanied by a younger man who appeared to be his understudy. "Lady Sara, a pleasure..."
As she extended her hand, she noticed the younger man eyeing her with open suspicion.
"It appears she does not recognize you, Lord..."
"Godolphin," the older gentlemen introduced himself, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "Sidney Godolphin, Lord High Treasurer for Her Majesty, at your service."
"He's the Queen's chief minister," Nate added into their headsets, "and the Marlboroughs' most important political ally in court."
"Oh, like a Prime Minister," Kara blurted out, both to Nate somewhere in the castle, and to the old lord before her.
"Pardon me," Godolphin squinted his eyes, "I have not heard the term."
"I rather like it," the younger man said, eyeing Kara rather lasciviously. "Prime Minister, the term has a certain charm, an immutable connotation..."
"May I introduce the Right Honorable Robert Walpole, a most promising young commoner."
"I hope he is," the Duchess chimed in from above them, "considering you've just named him Secretary at War, Lord Godolphin."
"Oh my God." Somewhere in the castle Nate's eyes began nerding out. "Robert Walpole actually becomes the first Prime Minister of Great Britain," he informed his team, "although not for another decade or so. Great, yet another self-fulfilling prophecy we've just left history with..."
A light yet significant yawn from above interrupted their group.
"The hour grows quite late, Lady Marlborough, will you attend me to my chambers?"
"Certainly, Your Majesty." The Duchess turned her attentions to the time travelers, letting out a more deliberate yawn as she did so. "A pleasure," she said, clearly not meaning the word. Is sarcasm a thing in the 1700's, Kara wondered.
"More like attends to her chambers," Walpole said with a sly grin towards Kara.
"Robert," Godolphin chided his younger colleague, clapping him in the back in a manner which was not entirely jovial. "Apologies, my fair ladies, but it has been a pleasure."
"Queenie's on the move," Sara whispered into her headset, watching the monarch and her favorite lady departing the court, especially the shapely curves upon the latter's body. "Lucky Queenie."
"Yes, Lady Marlborough is quite the, ahem..."
A younger woman interrupted the team just as they saw a red blur out of the corner of their eye, indicating that Barry was now hot on the tail of the Queen and subject of their protection. From the look on this new woman's face, the young, rather plain-faced lady was not all that impressed by the person of their discussion.
"Buzzkill," Sara said carefully.
"Oh, I like that," the strange young woman said with a wink as she also eyed the two departing women, though Sara thought her eyes strayed more upon the Queen than her much prettier lover. The woman leaned in conspiratorially. "Although I was going to say...snobby bitch. Oh, don't worry about the rest of them, they all know it, whether they say it out loud or not."
She had clever eyes, Sara thought, and was clearly not afraid to say what she believed. And although the woman was far from the prettiest girl in court, Sara had a feeling that she was the most fun...in many ways.
"I'm sorry," Amaya interjected suspiciously, wondering whether this stranger who clearly had some kind of agenda within the court may have anything to do with the historical events they were trying to prevent, "I'm afraid we have yet to be introduced, Lady..."
"Abigail, and hardly a lady, Lady Jiwe." Her attentions returned immediately back to Sara. "My apologies, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but between the four of us...I find this Lady Sara," she gestured at her body with a wink, "to be by far the more impressive Lady Sara in this castle."
For once it was Kara and Amaya who exchanged looks with each other, Kara subtly pulling Amaya away in a different direction.
"Shouldn't we stay close to the captain?"
"I think," Kara replied with a smirk, "both Barry and Sara know exactly what they're doing. Besides, I've always wanted to taste 18th century wine..."
"You're new. Both of you."
Queen Anne of Great Britain eyed the two superheroes skeptically.
"Oh, yes, Your Majesty," Barry began, "we just...uh, returned from the battlefield..."
"The campaign in the Low Countries," Nate added hastily, still groggy having just been carried by Barry outside the Queen's chambers via superspeed. "Lord Marlborough sent us himself, to protect Your Majesty. He trusts the both of us implicitly." Reaching into his pocket, he procured a letter of commission Gideon forged especially for the occasion.
The Queen did not seem to care much for his meticulously crafted documents, and instead looked to Sarah Churchill with both confusion and disappointment, Nate realized.
"If your husband sent them..."
"Lord Marlborough has full confidence in us in every manner, Your Majesty," Nate clarified. Clearly the Queen wanted her affair with the Duchess kept a secret, but he had long surmised that John Churchill knew of the full extent of his wife's activities; it was how he'd obtained his power and offices in the first place, after all.
"Caution should always be taken," the Duchess replied, drawing away from the smaller woman. "And I must write my husband to notify him of your...commands. Your Majesty. Gentlemen."
The Queen let out a dejected sigh, before frowning at her two newest guards. "Just don't muck up the floor with your boots," she muttered as she entered her chambers.
"How long do we have to wait here," Nate whispered to Barry after what had already seemed to be an interminable amount of time.
"Trust me, however tedious you think this is, it feels longer to me...someone's here!"
Before Nate could blink, The Flash had already barged into the Queen's chambers. "You better not be wrong about this," Nate muttered to himself, following in Barry's footsteps and finding the two women inside in a state of shock.
"Your Majesty," he blurted out, before turning to the other woman in the room, masked and clad all in black leather. "Laurel Lance?"
"Who...what, how do you know me? Where am I?"
"Question to ask is when."
"It attacked us," the Queen pointed a terrified finger out the open window. "It was like...like a flash of lightning, there were different colors, and it...it attacked me while I was standing by the mirror...and all of a sudden this...this woman is standing next to me...in my quarters..."
"Don't worry, Your Majesty," Nate said, taking Laurel's arm. "It's nothing but a bad nightmare. Go back to sleep and everything will be fine and dandy in the morning."
"Why...why I never..."
"Are you," Laurel gasped, her mind still racing even as she felt extreme nausea growing inside her stomach. In fact it was only her discomfort that prevented her from fighting off the strange man who'd grabbed her and was now pulling her through the hallways of some...ancient castle? "You're a time-traveler, aren't you? You're with my sister..."
"She's my captain actually," Nate said proudly. "Damned good one too."
"Sara, a captain," she marveled, head still spinning. "I can't believe it. When was she going to tell me?"
"Soon enough," Nate muttered, remembering that Sara's promotion did not occur until her sister's death. Eager to change the subject, he spoke into his headset. "I've secured the Black Canary, Barry's taking care of Thawne, let's get the hell out of this castle and back to the Waverider."
"Barry," Laurel asked, eyes wide open now behind her mask, craning her head to capture everything she was experiencing on this strangest of days. "I knew it, I knew that was The Flash! When did he join your team?"
"Only on crossovers. Sara, Oliver, Ray, what's your statuses?"
"Watching the lunkhead steal rum rations," Oliver said from the barracks, before turning to Mick. "Let's go."
"Ray's getting along too well with the future Prime Minister of Great Britain," Kara replied, walking alongside Amaya to retrieve their teammate on the opposite end of court. "Ray, gotta...we must take our leave," she said, remembering her proprieties so as not to break history any further than she'd already had.
"A delight," Ray said, bowing to take his leave, "chatting with someone with such keen insights on economics."
"Lady Kara of Midvale," Robert Walpole interrupted, ignoring his newly made friend to grasp the Kryptonian's shoulder, "it has been my greatest pleasure. Perhaps, we should, shall we say, initiate a correspondence?"
"Hmmm, correspondence," Kara said, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. "Perhaps I should seek permission from your wife first."
"How...how'd you know?"
"It's called Wikipedia. Sara," she called out as they left the flustered politician behind, "where'd you disappear to?"
"A bit occupied," came the strained reply, "but I'm trying to get away from my...present situation..."
The present situation happened to be an 18th century lady-in-waiting with her head buried in between her bare legs at the moment. "Abigail," she cried out, though whether in pleasure or to actually address the woman, Sara wasn't sure. "It's been a smashing time, but...I must go rejoin my friends."
"Oh, so soon," came the disappointed reply. "Please don't tell me you've come this far just to return to Gibraltar without returning the favor on me..."
"A bit further than Gibraltar, actually," Sara said, resisting the woman's so skillfully delicate fingers to pull herself off the bed and try to untangle her dresses and undershirts from that of the woman she'd just bedded.
"Feel free to invite your friends here," Abigail moaned, rising from the bed as naked as the day she was born. "Both Lady Amaya and Lady Kara, in fact."
"As much as I'd love to," Sara gasped, slipping sloppily into her dress, "I'm afraid they'd be more interested in the likes of your Robert Walpoles."
"Oh that's a shame," the girl named Abigail remarked, sitting naked on the bed and looking as dejected as Sara had ever seen one of her lovers look. "Still, doesn't hurt to give it a go, especially if they're your friends."
"Speaking of," Sara said, rising and pulling up her stockings as she ran towards the door, "toodles. Nate! Laurel!" Her timing was perfect as usual, running into her crewmate and sister in the hallway at that very moment. Or perhaps it was less than ideal, considering that one half of her dress was still hanging off an exposed shoulder. Laurel glanced first at her very disheveled looking sister, then at the naked woman running out of the bedroom chasing after her.
"Wait, we must write each other, you haven't told me where to write to you in Nanda Parbat...oh." The Englishwoman froze upon seeing the two new arrivals, and Laurel couldn't help but break out in laughter at the sight even as she ran forward to hug her sister.
"Seems like your new job comes with side benefits."
"Yeah," Sara said gritting her teeth in embarrassment, "I'd say this isn't really one of our typical missions..."
"It's definitely a lot hotter than a typical mission," Nate commented, eyes never leaving the Englishwoman's breasts.
They all turned towards the Queen's voice, gasping at the torrid scene before her, having apparently followed the two intruders out of her room.
"Yeah, time for our exit strategy." With that, the former assassin broke out into as quick of a run as she could muster in a clumsily adorned dress, but not before turning back for one last farewell to her all-too-brief lover. "Bye hon! See ya next decade, maybe!"
"We've made it back to the ship," Oliver said into his com in the open woods outside the castle. Looking around, he saw Kara, Amaya, and Ray running to join him. "Barry, what's your status."
"Thawne and I are having some disagreements," came the muffled and sporadic reply, "of a physical nature. Won't take too much longer."
"Remember," Stein added in from inside their ship, "I don't think he can stay in any time period except for a few brief moments. Delay him long enough, and he'll try to evade you."
"Oh, I've no plans of letting him escape."
"Time might just do the work for you," Stein reminded him. "Just be careful, he's still got his tricks, alive or dead."
"He'll be out of tricks once he's locked up in our brig," Sara muttered as she caught up with the rest of the group.
"Oliver," Laurel recognized, running out of Sara's arms to greet her old friend. "I didn't know you were a time traveler now too."
"Just this once," he said, hugging the woman he saw die before his eyes on a hospital bed less than a year ago. "Just to make sure you're safe." Laurel had confessed to him the last time he saw her alive that she still loved him, and that she would always love him, so it killed him now not to be able to do anything except hug her platonically as a friend, because they needed to return her to her time as only his friend and vigilante ally, rather than a rekindled lover. Oliver did not imagine that the rest of this mission, or its aftermath, would get any easier. Suddenly, a rude voice from his past spoke to him from beyond the grave.
"It'll be the last time you time travel."
"Damien Darhk." And there was the smug Malcolm Merlyn standing next to him, both villains holding giant, futuristic spaceguns. With his prosthetic hand, he noted, so Oliver knew at least that this version of Merlyn was no longer Ra's al Ghul.
"The Green Arrow," Darhk replied, "I wasn't expecting to see you here. Or should I say, Mayor Queen."
"Mayor?" Laurel was the only person confused by this.
"Give us the amulet and your piece of the Spear," Malcolm ordered, standing between them and their ship, "and we'll let you stay here and rejoin your fancy ballroom dance party. We'll even let you keep Laurel this time."
"Not sure if you've noticed," Sara spoke up, controlling her temper and bloodlust as she had to do anytime these two men stood within her sights, "but you're a bit outnumbered here." It was of the utmost imperative she stopped them from talking too much as well, lest they break the news to Laurel that she was the only one present who didn't know that she was a dead woman walking.
"And your speedster friend is a bit too preoccupied to help you, I'm afraid," Ray added.
"Hasn't stopped us from kicking your ass before," Damien said confidently, pointing his gun right at Oliver's head.
"Don't worry," Kara said, stepping ahead to face the villains. "I've got this."
Amaya seemed more skeptical. "Are you sure? Didn't you have several glasses of wine back in the castle?"
Kara shook her head. "Alcohol doesn't have any effect on me."
"Makes two of us," Mick snorted.
"What do you think her super power is," Damien asked his evil partner from the side of his mouth as he patiently allowed their idiot opponents to bicker, as if they ever did anything else with their time. "Dancing a lively jig?"
"Actually, I'm pretty damned good on karaoke nights...wait," Kara paused, one index finger pointed up in the air, palm facing the villains. "Can you give us a few more seconds?"
"I'll allow it," Damien said smugly. He explained to Merlyn, "I've always valued the importance of clever last words..."
The Kryptonian turned to the Green Arrow.
"Can you do that thing you do," she whispered to him.
"What thing," Oliver grumbled under his breath. "You're gonna have to be more specific."
"The punchline thing, Barry told me all about it, you point the arrows at them..."
"Dressed like this," he replied unhappily, gesturing towards his wig and at the overcoat dragging past his knees. "I look ridiculous enough already."
"Yeah," Laurel agreed, "no argument from me there."
"Pretty please," Kara pleaded, trying to put her best puppy dog eyes forward. "I've always wanted to see you do it. And I'll never mention again how rude you were to me last time around..."
"Fine," Oliver growled, pulling his bow and arrow from his redcoat uniform and aiming one very half-heartedly at Darhk. "Damien Darhk, Malcolm Merlyn, you have failed this...this..."
"Timeline," Sara suggested to him.
"Oh, that's just so cool," Kara gushed, rubbing her hands together like an overexcited fangirl. "And the way you lower your voice like that, it's so cute."
"Just get it over with."
"Agreed," Damien said. He had infinite patience, but only so much of it, especially in light of this farce. It seemed the Legends were acting even more idiotic than their usual selves.
"Wait," Malcolm said with concern, "why is she taking off her clothes..."
Before either villain could muster up another thought, an icy cold gust of wind knocked the guns right out of their hands. Then came the flash of what looked to be a laser beam, after which an intense wave of heat exploded the ground in front of them and knocked them both onto their backs.
"What the hell, is she flying..." Before he could finish his sentence, Damien Darhk felt a fist punch him in the jaw harder than he'd ever been hit in his long life, and found himself pinned onto the ground alongside his partner in (literal) crime, the girl in the cape and cartoonish/dominatrix tight outfit looking completely bored as she held both men down with barely a few fingers.
"That was fun," Kara said gleefully, looking back at the rest of her friends like a proud fourth grader seeking approval from the teacher for a science project well done.
"Show off," Oliver muttered under his breath.
"We gotta bring her along more often," Nate added, eyes widened in awe.
"Seriously," Laurel agreed, watching the woman they called Supergirl pick both men up by their collars as if they were as light as a feather.
"Legion of Doom," Kara asked the two struggling supervillians within her grasp. "More like Legion of Losers, am I right?"
"That hurts," Malcolm Merlyn admitted quietly to his villainous partner.
The team had just secured Darhk and Merlyn onto the Waverider's brig when Barry sped back onto the ship.
"What happened to Thawne," Sara asked The Flash.
"He got away," Barry answered unhappily. "We were fighting, I thought he wouldn't give up until he'd killed me, but then he kicked me down when he had an opening, and ran off."
"I tried to warn you," Martin Stein chided, as Jax rolled his eyes by the side of the room. "He's running from something. That's why he needs his two henchmen to do all his dirty work."
"Partners," Malcolm Merlyn insisted from inside his confinement.
"Yeah, we're partners now."
"Whatever," Kara said, rolling her eyes. She turned to Sara. "Are your villains always so easy to beat?"
"Actually, it took two whole seasons for Oliver...," Nate began.
"We got lucky," Oliver interrupted, not wanting to make eye contact with the super alien who'd just made all his efforts look extremely trivial. "Plus, it's pretty obvious that we all work very well as a team."
"Honestly," Sara said, leading them away from the brig and back towards the bridge, "Thawne's escape notwithstanding, this might be the first mission this crew has ever had that actually went according to plan."
"Traumatized Queens of England aside," Laurel jibed at her sister, to everyone's approval.
"Well," Sara replied, shrugging her shoulders towards her Kryptonian guest of honor, "there's always some collateral damage...think of it as a...Legends calling card."
"Gideon," Nate said, addressing the ship's super computer as they returned to the bridge, "pull up the timeline," while Oliver opened one of the small drawers to retrieve an object he'd temporarily stowed inside.
"Wait," he cried out in surprise. "Thea's postcard...it's still in German."
"Time does take time to solidify," Sara began to explain, before Nate interrupted her directly as he scanned through the historical records.
"Umm, Sara," he broached nervously, "what was the name of that young lady you'd just...made yourself familiar with?"
"Abigail...," she frowned, not recalling the woman ever saying her last name out loud.
Nate cocked his head in exasperation. "Was it Abigail Masham?"
"Abigail Masham? More like Abigail Smashed-her, am I right?" She elbowed Oliver, who for whatever inexplicable reason failed to appreciate her humor. Kara giggled, thankfully.
"Abigail Masham," Nate repeated, trying to carefully walk the tightrope of chiding his captain without sounding insubordinate, "was the Duchess of Marlborough's chief rival for the intimate affections of their mutual Queen and lover."
"Oh. Well that explains a lot," Sara realized.
"The reason England won every battle and yet still left the War of Spanish Succession in what was essentially a draw," Nate continued, "was because Lady Masham was eventually able to supplant the Duchess as the Queen's favorite, resulting in the appointment of an anti-war government by Queen Anne that exited the war on terms extremely favorable to the French, considering the circumstances.
But in our new timeline, Miss Masham is dismissed from court after she's caught hooking up with a time-traveler, the Marlboroughs keep their hold on the government, the Duke marches on and takes Paris by 1714, France and the Bourbon dynasty are weakened significantly as a result. Less than a century later, Frederick the Great of Prussia conquers Burgundy during the Seven Years War, and eventually Paris and all of Northern France are annexed into the German Empire by Otto von Bismarck in 1868. Thus," he points at Oliver, "your postcard. Also," he added, "there's no America, since France was too weak to help us during the Revolutionary War...so when we return, we'd be returning to the Southern Canadian Colonies of the British Empire."
"You were saying about collateral damages," Ray said, as the entire crew eyed their captain accusingly.
"At least it wasn't the Nazi's," Stein said out of the back of his mouth.
"Exactly," Sara said, latching onto the professor's words, browsing through the timeline herself. "We saved the world from two World Wars AND a Cold War."
"That's good, right," Kara asked, always trying to point out the silver lining. "Hey, it's not my timeline!"
"I do love Downton Abbey," Laurel added, trying to come to the defense of her sister. "It'd be kinda cool to actually live in it?"
"We gotta save time," Barry realized. He was not a fan of those British soap operas that Iris made him watch.
"Again," Sara agreed, this time to clean up her mess. "Kara, Barry, Ollie," she said to her guests, "you wanted to enjoy a genuine Legends mission..."
"Not really," Oliver grumbled.
"...and here's your chance."
"Wait," Laurel interrupted. Amidst all the confusion of time travel...of her actually sitting in a timeship in the year 1708, a timeship captained by her sister, who'd just prevented her from killing a British monarch (she loves the British monarchy!)...there was one other pressing question she'd overheard that hadn't yet been addressed.
"Ollie, why did Damien Darhk address you as the Mayor?"