Gonna have to make you wait at least half an hour before we swim anyway... [for once he's not the only one to blame for how long it takes to finish lunch. kara danvers has an appetite that rivals his, making lunch a rather lengthy affair. eventually, however, makes his way toward her place, detouring long enough to change into his beach attire beforehand.

a couple loud taps on the door followed by a loud 'special delivery.' are how he opts to greet her. at least he's being direct, right?]

( speaking of Bad Looks...

only it's not really as bad as sara's gut reaction makes her think when she flings her door open, but once her eyes acclimate to the sight of the neon flowers adorning the partially open black button down, it's honestly kind of ... good. maybe it's the unexpected nature of mick's appearance, or maybe it's just his appearance here at her door at long last.

she locks eyes with him as she finishes her beer off with a upwards tilt of her chin, greets him with a lowkey, ) Hi.

( right. maybe she should step aside to let him in so they can get this damn show on the road already. )

Hey. [the reply is as casual as ever, almost as if they haven't been spending the last couple of hours egging each other on and alluding to what he hopes is an explosive conclusion to the day. mick steps inside, cracks something that approximates a smile, and dangles a tiny black shopping bag in front of her face.]

Thought about just giving you an empty bag, but we're not going to the nude beach. [a beat] Maybe next time.

( sara shoots him A Look at that remark, plucks the bag from out of mick's hands. hah. a nude beach. right.

she wastes no time in heading into her bedroom, assuming that he'll make himself right at home — or not, considering it'll take her about all of five seconds to get changed. the empty bottle is discarded on the way with a loud clank, the door's left partially open, and she's pulling her shirt up over her head as she calls in response, slightly delayed, ) Next time, huh.

( her shorts are discarded, as are her underthings, left on the floor for later when she's maybe not in such a hurry. sara likes the bathing suit he'd picked even more than she thought once it's actually on her — who would've thought? it shows off a lot of skin, marked with scars that she wears with pride, hugs her curves pretty nicely. ) I'm glad you're so confident there'll be a next time, ( she can't resist adding as she wiggles jean shorts over her bikini bottoms.

she lets her hair out of the messy bun on top of her head as she reenters the living room, shakes out blondes waves a little, and asks, ) You ready?

[normally, he would just pluck a beer from her fridge, drop on her couch, and kick his feet up as if he owned the place, but they're not going to be staying long. not if they're gonna make it to the beach while there's plenty of daylight left at least. he watches her slink off to her bedroom, discarding the empty beer bottle without a second glance, and regards the door left slightly ajar. with a shrug of his shoulders, he follows just a few paces behind. mick stops at her doorway, leaning against the frame as she carries on her conversation, paying him little mind in the process. ]

Gideon tried to talk to me about something called 'the power of positivity' once. Figured I'd try it on for size.

[much as he'd like to stand there and continue to watch her slip into the suit, there's something to be said about a surprise reveal, so before she's done he makes his way back into her living room and relaxes on the couch until she's returned, fully changed into an outfit which gives him a hell of a lot more to look at than anything he's seen her in thus far. sex on a stick? thy name is sara lance.

bless his heart he manages to avoid a catcall or anything that might result in a punch to the face or swift kick to the goods, but mick's eyebrows rise as his gaze moves up and down taking in every little detail.] Been ready. Need anything else before we head out?

It's not a bad look on you, ( she says, maybe referring to this strange, newfound optimism of his, or perhaps that ridiculous floral button down he wears so unashamedly. sara puts her hands on her hips while she contemplates what else they might need — and maybe just to give mick more time to brazenly let his gaze sweep over her; she'd be lying if she said she doesn't enjoy it.

but there's a moment of realization, and she dashes back into her room for a hot second, returning with two towels draped over her arm. hell, she'd almost grabbed only one just to prove a point, but maybe they'll need an extra to dry off if they decide to take a little dip in the ocean. resourcefulness: just another reason why captain lance is good at her job. )

Alright. Let's get this show on the road. ( you know, this feels like the perfect opportunity to get really close, maybe stand on her tiptoes a little, brandishing her trademark Sara Lance Smirk™️ as she leans closer and —

shoves the towels against his chest for him to carry, gets back down to her own level, and opens the front door. to the beach! )

Ain't a bad look on you either. [the meaning behind his gruff statement a bit more obvious what with the roaming eyes. mick's not the type to lie, whether to spare feelings, or, as in this case, downplay what he believes to be true.

sara's hot. like sex on the beach hot, which if he plays his cards right seems like they're working toward. his face breaks out into a grin as she hurries off, presumably to grab those last minute items. he's still lost in a daydream when he returns.

caught unawares, he startles ever just so as she shoves the towels in his direction. mick mutters something akin to 'fucking sneaky ninja' under his breath as she saunters past him to the door.]

Just for that, I'm making you drive.

[mick tosses the keys in her general direction, confident that her lightning quick reflexes will mean she doesn't drop them. the truck is parked just outside. it's hardly new but she should just be happy his vehicle isn't one of those compact numbers that the citizens here are so fond of.

Alright, but don't be mad if I'm rusty.

( said as she, of course, deftly catches the keys with one hand and traipses right on out of her apartment, trusting that he'll lock the door behind him. a big old truck's a hell of a lot different than a big ol' time ship.

but then, sliding into the front seat, worn leather against mostly-bare thighs, and turning on the ignition to bring the truck rumbling to life, she realizes that — like with most things in her life — it's all second nature. sara pulls into the road and it's off to the beach for the two of them.

there's an ill-concealed smile as she turns her head just enough to glance at him, quips, ) Put some tunes on, will you?

Don't wreck my truck. [he threatens, locking up behind her as he dutifully follows along.

of course, the threat turns out to be entirely unnecessary, because while driving a truck isn't anything like driving a timeship, it is like riding a bicycle, all muscle memory once the nerves die down. sara handles his ride, unsurprisingly, like a champ, hands casually drifting along the wheel as she hurries down the road toward the beach.

he grins at her, has a fleeting thought about bonnie and clyde, and how maybe if they weren't tasked with keeping the world safe, if she didn't have her thing with snart — which he still hasn't gotten a full explanation of and has only gleaned from those times he's observed them together — that maybe just maybe they could take over the world with one another. or paint the town red. or at least have a damn good time.

so when she urges him to fill the silence in the cab with the sound of music, he's all to quick to oblige, fiddling with the dial until a familiar song comes through amidst the static. it's not beach going music, but it seems fitting that this be the song that plays while he admires her for not the first and certainly not the last time.] I love the 70s.

( the song cuts through static, carries through the cab of the truck, and sara immediately turns her head fully towards mick, staring at him with a mystified sense of disbelief, smile curling into the corners of her mouth — a silent are you hearing this?

except she should probably keep her eyes on the road. her fingers flex against the steering wheel, full-on grinning as she tries in vain to keep looking forward. love, love will keep us together...

it feels like some kind of cosmic sign. you know, if sara really believed in that kind of thing. if she did, she'd think that captain & tennille might be telling them something. sara mouths along to the words without even thinking about it, making a turn down the street towards parking for the beach. )

Hell of a song.

[the phrase cat that ate the canary would be terribly cliche but still apropros for this particular situation they're in and the shit-eating grin that currently occupies the better part of mick's face. he is most definitely hearing this.

and reliving that moment, so long ago when mick and len were just getting to know sara lance. it's been years (it's been lifetimes for mick if he wants to really think about it) and he still thinks there's something viscerally appealing about how she moves. mick nods along to the sweet sounds of captain and tennille spilling forth from the speakers.

they roll on and on until finally she's turning into the parking lot for the beach. before she can even put the car in park, he's getting ready to exit, grabbing the towel up in his arms again once she's finally applied the e-brake, mick steps out, smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth as he turns his head to address her.]

You comin', Lance?

Jesus, gimme a second, ( she chirps back, turning off the ignition in the middle of climbing out of the car herself, pressing the lock down manually with her finger before slamming the door shut and tucking his keys into the pockets of her jean shorts.

sara meets him around the front of the truck, tips her head towards the stairs that lead down to the sand and starts towards them. but not before some gentle ribbing, maybe literally with her elbow, too, a bump against his side, as she teases, ) Swear you're excited or something, Rory. Pretty sure the last time I saw you this happy was when you found out Gideon could fabricate copies of that shitty beer you like so much.

[is he excited? hell yeah he is. mick's having one of those rare good days™ where it feels like nothing, not even a little good natured teasing courtesy of one sara lance can bring him down. he's only been ranting about aruba for what? over a year? and while this beach might not be a tropical island where the soundtrack is a mix of crashing waves, steel drums, and jimmy buffett, there's at least a hot woman in a swimsuit and hopefully drinks somewhere in the cards for him.] It's an American classic. [he protests, raising an eyebrow at her.] But I will say Gideon's isn't quite right. Less skunky, I guess.

Geez. It's already packed. I'm gonna look ahead, see if I can't find a spot. [impatient as ever, mick shuffles down the steps toward the glittering sand which covers this section of eudio's coastline. at this time of day, most of the prime real estate is already claimed. but that's never bothered mick, and when he spots a pair of beach chairs with a nice, inviting umbrella he has zero compunctions with glaring expectantly at the couple who are currently occupying said space until they get the hint, packing up their stuff and departing. mick dumps their towels on the chairs and turns back toward sara and just winks.] Found one.