Legends of Tomorrow: Someone's Been Sleeping In My Bed (Patreon)

She was gorgeous, alright. Her body long and lean, with ample curves suggested more through some lustful electricity than sight. You could just tell that the lines of her body led to voluptuousness. Her hair was red, spilling out around her head poised but artlessly, like her face was within the petals of a rose. Her skin was pale, nearly the same sheen as the bed she laid on, meshing with the white sheets to make it a little unclear where her nudity began and the bedspread ended. But, on careful examination, it was clear that she was thoroughly wrapped in her bedsheet. Not in a poised way, but with an organic lack of affect that made her appear nymph-like, natural, like the sheet had ended up draped over her in such a delicious way only by some one-in-a-million chance.

Len had no idea how she had gotten into his bed or why or what she was doing there.

Well, sleeping, but besides that.

“Found the beer,” Mick said behind him, coming through the same doorway Len had been passing through before he saw his bed had been Goldilocksed. “This tub doesn’t have enough beer. Hey, who’s the frail?”

“Don’t know,” Len said. “She wasn’t here when I left this morning. Must be my new cologne.”

“Did ya hire a hooker and forget about it?” Mick asked.

“Funny.”

“She might’ve gotten bored,” Mick persisted.

“I’m sure you’d know better than me about boring prostitutes.” Len took the six-pack from Mick. Apparently, all the Waverider had had on board was Michelob. Mick was right; why did they need six different kinds of yogurt and then only American beers? “Maybe if we ignore her, she’ll go away.”

“You’re just gonna leave her there?”

“Seems rude to wake her up. Besides, she’s keeping it warm.”

“Keeping what warm?” Jax asked, passing by, and Len felt abruptly on the verge of regretting things. “Whoa! Who’s the hot chick? Len, I feel almost like respecting you or something.”

Len felt his usual misgiving for having to repeat himself. Happened when you worked with a team—although even working just with a partner could mean multiple repeats, when that partner was Mick Rory. “I don’t know her,” he announced.

Jax’s face lit up. “Awesome.”

“No, I’m saying I’ve never even seen her before tonight.”

Mick made a noise of appreciation deep in his chest.

“I’m telling you, I don’t even know her name!”

Jax thumped his fist on his chest. “Respect.”

“We’re respecting things?” Sara asked, approaching. “Seems like the wrong crowd for that—who is she?” Sara added abruptly, joining the crowd milling in Len’s doorway.

Len turned to face all of them. “I have no idea who she is, or how she got in my bed, or what she’s doing there.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do all your conquests make this much of an impression on you? The least you could do is put a notch on the bedpost; at least it’s something.”

Len cocked his head. “Why Lance, you sound almost jealous.”

Sara looked past him. “I do have a thing for redheads—“

“Doesn’t everyone?” Jax asked.

“Too fiery for me,” Mick said.

“Really?”

Sara ignored both of them. “I’d probably make a point of learning at least her first name. I’m romantic that way.”

Len stared back at her, finding something exceptionally annoying about her sass—perhaps that it seemed very endearing on her. “I don’t like to be so clingy. First it’s learning people’s names, then it’s knowing what they’re allergic to…”

“Why are you all standing around here?” Martin asked, passing through apparently the busiest corridor in the ship. “If there’s some festive gathering and I wasn’t invited, you shouldn’t have felt the need to spare my feelings. What if I’d needed to speak to one of you? I’d have just found out from Gideon anyway…”

“There’s no party,” Len said irritably.

“Heh. Not now that pants are on, anyway,” Mick grunted.

“Pants? I don’t understand,” Martin said, then craned his neck to see over the veritable dam of onlookers blocking the doorway. “Oh. Oh my. Mr. Snart, are you aware that is a young woman unconscious in your bed?”

“I may have noticed that…”

“He’s very sensitive that way,” Sara said, somehow doubling Len’s own sarcasm.

“Has anyone considered she may need medical attention?” Martin continued.

“Oh please, he’s not that good,” Sara stated confidently.

“Don’t say things you’re not willing to prove. I know how you hate to be wrong.”

“How would I know?”

“If we’re done with the ceaseless pulling of pigtails,” Martin interrupted snappishly, “then can we please at least ascertain that the girl is breathing?”

There was a pause as all present watched the woman’s chest for a few seconds to see that it was moving.

“Yeah,” Jax said, speaking for all of them. “She definitely is.”

“And how,” Sara said. “And if this were your usual rent-by-the-hour above your local bowling alley, I could almost approve. But since it’s our base of operations…”

“Ms. Lance is quite right,” Martin put in. “As comely as the young woman is, it really is improper to bring her onboard the Waverider for such a trivial reason.”

Jax was still checking her breathing. “Stein, if I ever get old enough to think that’s trivial, just shoot me right then.”

Mick nodded. “Yeah. And here I thought you were gettin’ soft, Len.”

Sara rolled her eyes with a huff of dissatisfaction with the male gender, and Martin cleared his throat. “Gentlemen, please. I’m sure the young lady has her own reasoning for wanting to accompany Mr. Snart, and it really is quite retrograde to treat something done with their mutual consent as some sort of ‘victory’ for Len here.”

“Finally, some maturity,” Len said.

“You’re welcome,” Martin replied, then gave Len a wink and a slight pump of the fist.

Len frowned at that.

“So, she have a sister?” Jax asked.

“Or is she really easy?” Mick asked.

“As much as I appreciate being seen as the sexual being I most assuredly am,” (this said with Len eying Sara and getting a skeptical look in return,) “does anyone here really think I’d be so unprofessional as to pick up a woman and bring her onboard our top-secret timeship for a bang?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Absolutely.”

“I’d be surprised if you haven’t done it before.”

Len smiled at Sara, who had spoken last. “Well then, does anyone think I would do all that, but then lie about it?”

“Probably.”

“If you felt like it.”

“Wouldn’t come as a shock.”

“I always think you’re lying.”

Len sighed. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Then can we at least ask Gideon how she got onboard? Because while I love finding a naked woman in my bed as much as the next guy, I’m starting to feel oddly threatened by it, and just now considering it wouldn’t even be the weirdest way someone’s tried to kill me in the last six months.”

“No need for any questions there,” Rip said. Len was relieved to see him, if only because he didn’t join the pile-up in Len’s doorway. “I brought Kate Kane here onboard for the next mission. She was quite tired, so I lent her a room to rest in. She must have gotten turned around and taken Len’s room for an empty one. All quite innocent.”

“Very well,” Len said. “I’ll share my bunk with her, just to be a team player. Now if you’ll all excuse us, I’m tired…”

“She might not appreciate that,” Rip said, “being something of a confirmed… lesbian.”

A chorus of dismay went up from the men, broken only by Sara’s quiet “hell yeah.”