Oh, right — that's what I meant. You're the greatest. And that's to say nothing about how humble you are, ( sara teases right back, smiling and pleased as all hell.

but she does soften a little, fingers tapping idle patterns against his shoulder blades as she peers up at him. ) What'd you do that for anyway, huh?

( a pretty valid question coming from the girl with her fair share of scumbag delinquent ex-boyfriends who weren't all that big on the actual romance — not even oliver queen. sara's never been the whole flowers and chocolates type, but this aspect of their ... whatever this is is uncharted territory and sara's trying to figure it all out. )

[Len had considered the answer he was going to give to that question a hell of a lot more than he had contemplated the actual answer. It was a question he dreaded, but he wouldn't be Leonard Snart if he didn't plan for contingencies, particularly around things he feared.

Like being vulnerable.

So his answer came easily, but a little practiced.]

I told you, already. I saw it in a window and I thought of you. Do I need another reason?

Nah. I just thought maybe you liked me or something, Leonard.

( said with a coy grin, ever-teasing — as though they haven't already been through this song and dance already. there'd been a crack in the dam known as her feelings back at the drive-in, when she'd told him straight to his face that she likes him.

sara won't press, though, if it comes to that. pressing the matter would mean exposing more of herself to him in the process, make him realize just how much she cares, and it's kind of a scary thought. )

[They are teasing and dancing about each other, and one might wonder if either of them would ever actually get real. But for now, Len's enjoying keeping things light.

He rolls his eyes] I do like you, or I'd have sold you the knife.

[He kisses her and pushes her shirt up, baring her torso and smooth, soft belly to just under her bra, as he begins to strip off all of her clothes. He wants to see all of her, this time]

Oh, that makes so much more sense, ( sara says through a laugh, cut short by his lips against hers which she eagerly reciprocates. she's maybe still a little smiley compared to usual, anyway, pretty pleased by this evident goal of getting all of her clothes off as quickly as possible — even if she doesn't do much to help him out.

she'll let him have his fun. )

I didn't wake you up, did I? ( all casual, as though len's not undressing her at this exact moment. )

[He continues to work her shirt upwards, tugging it up to her underarms and then trying to work it up over her head. He kisses her, then strips her shirt off, and kisses her again the moment her face is revealed once more.]

You kidding? Nah. But I think you woke the Flash.

I'll buy him a drink to tell him I'm sorry.

( she cooperates as much as she needs to for him to be able to get her shirt over her head, lifting her shoulders so he can properly tug it off — and kiss her, of course. exactly what she'd come here for.

sara's content to smile wryly up at him, practically lounging beneath him in her bra and jeans, simply wanting him to enjoy his view. )

But I came here to see Captain Cold, not the Flash. ( still teasing. his code name is a little silly, but then again, so is hers. )

You do that. [Len's amused by it all, but he doesn't really care where Barry is right now, either. He figures he can't get into that much trouble, unless he pisses Mick or Lisa off outright. And if he's dumb enough to do that, he deserves what he gets.

Anyway, he's far more interested in the view she's giving him, and he does take a moment to let his cool blue eyes travel outrageously over her curves as he tosses her shirt aside.]

Well, I should hope so. If you came here to see him, I'd have to ask what he gave you.

[He leans forward and slips his arms around her, to unhook her bra with nimble fingers.]

( his stare is palpable as it travels over her cleavage, her abs, and it's satisfying as all hell. what can she say? she occasionally likes being admired, shallow as it may be. )

He's pretty cute, ( sara starts, trying to push his buttons a little for her own amusement. ) But the kid seems a little too green. And apparently —

( she pauses so she can lean closer to him, let him unhook her bra and pull it off her arms before laying back against the pillows, continuing her small talk regardless of the fact that her nipples pebble in the cool air once her top half is bare. ) I'm into criminals these days. Crooks, even.

[He laughs] He is cute, and green as hell, but that could be a good thing. [He's not above pushing her buttons right back.

He shifts back, hands sliding down her chest and stomach to the waistband of her jeans. He starts to undo them, still watching her avidly. There's a glint of covetous interest in his eyes, but he isn't actually jealous. Not yet, anyway.]

"Crooks", plural? Who else are you into?

( sara decides that she'll just have to form an opinion on barry allen firsthand, but that's going to have to wait because for now, she has to spend some energy pretending that her stomach doesn't practically do backflips when his hands graze the length of her torso and start to undo her jeans.

but the question makes her raise an eyebrow, unable to discern how serious he's being, and quickly attempts to diffuse it with a smile that's way too calm and innocent and a short: ) Wouldn't you like to know?

Not really. [He leans over and kisses her belly button, then starts tugging her pants down over her hips. Who and what you do's none of my business.

He leans up and gives her a mischievous smirk.] Outside of this room, anyway.

Can't say I'm thinking about anyone outside of this room right about now, ( she replies through an airy little laugh at the feeling of his lips against her stomach. feeling the need to be helpful, she kicks off her boots and lets them clatter to the floor, socks following suit. she'll even go as far as lifting her hips up to help him tug her jeans over her hips before settling back down, contentedly lounging beneath him all over again. )

Better get that knife off first. ( but she'll let him do that, tilting her head to simply watch him. )

But I like how you look in it. [But she's right, and he drops to one knee to unbuckle the sheath and set the knife aside. That allowed him to pull her jeans and underwear off, and then he straightened, still completely fully clothed as he looked over Sara's nude body]

Still gorgeous.

( in all honesty, sara really likes how she looks in it — or, at least, how it looks on her — too, which is why she'd put it on in the first place. sure, the rogues gallery might be in a sketchier part of the city, but sara sure as hell didn't think that she'd need it. she'd just wanted to show off a little. )

Flatterer.

( which is something else that she's perfectly fine with, smiling a catlike smile up at him. )

And you love it.

[Len slides a knee onto the bed between her legs and drops onto his hands and knees over her on the bed. He bends to kiss her on the lips softly, hungrily]

( there's a small moan against his lips as his thigh presses between her legs, her legs parting just a bit wider for him in return. he really is good at this, sara thinks as she kisses him, fingers of her free hand ghosting through his short hair as though it might offer more stability for her; his hands run all over her body, leave her occasionally squirming needily depending on where he touches — her breasts, her collarbone, down along the carved v of her hip bones.

she murmurs against the corner of his mouth, short and to the point, ) What's on your mind, Leonard?

[He grins against her lips and pulls back, hands coming to rest at her hips. His grin turns wicked, eyes bright with mischief] I want to give you something else, now.

I'd say you're doing a pretty good job so far, ( she replies as her head lays back to hit the pillow, trying to sound all nonchalant despite the bubbly, almost lightheaded feeling that kissing him, him touching her, gives to her. ) But go on, I'm listening.

[He grins and bends down. He brings his lips to her ear and nibbles just a bit, before whispering seductively]

I'm talking about my dick.

( god, for someone so allegedly cold, len can be so hot, stripping her naked and teeth grazing against her earlobe and whispering in that low, sexy voice of his and then —

and then. )

You're talking about your dick.

( deadpanned. straight-faced. dead-eyed. and then ...

laughter. if there was any doubt in her mind before, she's fairly confident that leonard snart is the textbook definition of the worst. )

[He pushes up, grinning like an asshole, as she laughs. His hands move up her sides again, and cup the undersides of her breasts, making circles with his thumbs]

What?

( there's a halfhearted little groan at the brush of his thumbs, because it feels so good but she's still trying to decide whether or not she'll ever be able to take him seriously ever again. )

That's the cheesiest shit anyone's ever said to me, and I've heard some cheesy shit.