#but i guess at least they had like.... honor amongst themselves? sorta?

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Freddie’s 40th birthday; Freddie Mercury x reader

*Author’s note*

In honor of the legend’s 74th birthday, as apart of my Rock Angel series, I have written up this little filler chapter centered around Freddie’s birthday. It’s unbelievable that had he lived today, we would’ve been celebrating his 74th bday. But as it is said in the Sandlot ‘Heroes get remembered, but legends never die’. Happy birthday Freddie Mercury, wherever you are, know that you are loved and are continued to be loved by generations of people that are just getting to know you or people that have followed/known you when you were alive.

Enjoy my lovelies and until the next update :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@platawnic​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@klausidiot​

@onebigfangirlworld​

@naturalswifty89​

@starswin​

@dj-lowkey​

@isabella-bby​

@bohemiansweede​

@5sos-wdw​

@labessieisallama​

____________________________________________________________

*Sept. 7th, 1986*

I was looking myself over in the mirror seeing how my cowgirl hat looked.  It wasn’t anything fancy just a simple leather khaki hat that belonged to mum who gave it to me just for this party.  I brushed the ends of my hair before Jack came in wearing his Indiana Jones hat.

“Look at you my little cowgirl.”

“Now don’t you dare say something naughty or else you’re going to get it.” Jack faked a gasp.

“How dare you suggest I’d say such a thing.”

“Please Jack. You may look all sweet and innocent but even you can go Freddie Mercury dirty. Or worse Deacy leveled of rottenness.”

“Never did I think he could think such thoughts.”

“You do realize that his first song Misfire was all about pre-ejaculation right?”

“Okay subject change please!” I shoved him and said.

“You started it.”

“Nu-uh!”

“Oh shut it you. Now remind me again why you didn’t want to wear a cowboy hat?”

“You know what those hats do to me. Plus….” He stroked the rim of his Indie hat, “this makes me look cooler.” His brow quirked as he smirked in the mirror trying to be sexy (which he was but I’ll never admit that out loud).

“But then we could’ve been a matching set at the party. Fred would’ve been all gushed up about it.”

“You know this day is about him right?”

“Correction two days ago was all about him. This is his birthday party. Thankfully it won’t be as crazy as last years. Yeesh. I still don’t remember how Roger and I ended up in that closet together.”

“Let alone with your shirt over his face.”

“Oh god yeah that—most awkward thing ever. But I think I recall saying something like ‘it’s too hot in this hellhole for me!’ Or some random thing like that. At least that’s what Deacy said he heard. God we had sooo much tequila that night. Never again.”  He chuckled and wrapped his arm around me and pecked my cheek.

“Yeah cause I wouldn’t want to think that my wife was screwing around with her father figure.”

“EWW! Now that is something I know that not even drunk me would do. Why put that image into my brain oh god JACK!!!” he laughed as I began hitting his arm.  

“Ow! Okay! Okay I’m sorry!”

“You better be. Now what time is it?”

“6:40.”

“Shit we better get going!” I grabbed his hand and we took off out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

In the living room our sitter Derek aka ‘Dancing man’ Anderson, who was also one of my roadies on tour, was already feeding our daughter.

“Okay Derek, we’re heading out. Again thank you soo much for volunteering to babysit for me. Normally I wouldn’t ask you to do this much…….”

“Relax (Y/n). I’ve had 3 kids so I know how this works. Thankfully I was in the neighborhood. Plus I get the chance to see the kid before the rest of the roadies do.” I shook my head at him.

Derek had been one of my first roadies ever since I became the Rock Angel.  He was about the same age as Roger was and if I’m being honest, he’s kinda like Roger in a way.  In fact if I remember correctly it was Roger’s roadie Crystal that recommended Derek to me.  He’s great with electronics and lighting and he’s basically the ringleader since he’s the only one of my original team that has stuck with me for the past five years.

“Okay so her bottles are in the fridge and I’ve laid out instructions on how to warm them up. Her bedtime is in two hours, and her favorite story is ‘Oh the places you’ll go’. And ohh I know I’m forgetting something.”

“Angel, relax. I’ve got this. Jack gave me the full rundown about an hour ago while you were deciding on your hat. Give my birthday regards to Fred.”

“We will. Thanks again Derek.” Jack said as the two of them shook hands with each other.

“No prob, you two kids have fun. And don’t worry mini Angel will be safe and sound.”

“Alright, bye baby girl. Mummy loves you.” I leaned down and pecked my daughter’s cheek repeatedly then Jack came down and kissed the top of her head which was starting to sprout my hair color and told her.

“Daddy loves you too sweetheart.” Jack and I picked up our gifts for Freddie and we walked out the door and headed to the car.

To my surprise Jack actually offered to drive to Freddie’s place at Garden Lodge.  I looked at him surprised and switched seats with him and I must admit I’m surprised that he’s managed to get driving in England down.

“Wow Jack I must say, you’ve really adapted to our way of driving, haven’t yah?”

“Well seeing you guys drive all the time kinda helped me out a bit more. Plus those old driving lessons from Deacy also helped as well.”

“So I got to ask. American style of driving or UK style of driving.”

“Oh American hands down. I still fear that I’m gonna ram into someone driving on this side of the road.”

“Guess we both feel that way. When your cousin Jensen gave me my first car driving lessons, I was terrified beyond belief. Not only was it something totally different, but also just driving on the side of the road that I’ve never driven on. But you’re doing good baby. I’m proud of you.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and he said.

“Hey now, no need to get frisky. I’m the one behind the wheel here.”

“You are just full of snappy comebacks today aren’t yah?” he grinned at me and continued to drive on.

After a while we finally arrived at Freddie’s place just ten minutes past 7.  Jack parked the car just a few yards away from the entrance of Garden Lodge and the two of us walked hand in hand towards the entrance.  I pressed the buzzer at the gate and that’s when Jim’s voice came on the intercom and he said.

‘Hello?’

“Hey Jim it’s Jack and (Y/n). We made it.”

‘Ahh the Kline couple, come right on in.’ the gate let out a buzz and Jack opened the door and tipped his hat just like Indiana Jones as he did his best Harrison Ford impression.

“My lady.”

“Why thank you Dr. Jones.” I said in my best Southern accent before walking right on in and he followed behind me.

We walked across the front garden and I couldn’t help but admire the flowers that grew down the runway towards the house.  We walked up the steps and Jack knocked on the door and soon answering the door wearing a pink boa with an angel halo on top of his head was the Queen himself, Freddie Mercury.

“Well about fucking time you two got here. I was beginning to think you both skipped out on me.”

“Please Fred. If we wanted to, you’d never let us hear the end of it.” I teased him.  He chuckled and smiled that wide smile of his before extending his arms out and the two of us hugged and kissed each other.

“And Jack. Handsome and dashing as ever.” Freddie praised.

“Thanks Fred.” Jack blushed.

“And a couple’s costume at that. I swear I think you two will upstage me. And I’m supposed to be the birthday boy here.”

“Oh well Fred actually we’re not doing a couple’s costume. At least not anymore we aren’t.”

“Oh well then Jack what kind of hat is this supposed to be?” Fred said as he stroked the rim of Jack’s Indiana Jones hat.

“Wow and I thought you would’ve at least seen at least one of the films. This is an Dr. Indiana Jones hat.”

“A doctor you say, well what the fuck kind of doctor wears that kind of hat?”

“He’s also an archeologist that goes on adventures Fred.” I explained to him.  Freddie ahhed in understandment.

“Okay now I see. Well besides all that, come on in my darlings the party’s just beginning.” Fred opened the front door wider and allowed Jack and I to enter inside.

And amazingly while there were a lot of people there, it wasn’t as full crazed as his birthday party last year.  It was mellow, quieter, people making small talk amongst friends.  It was a nice change for once (especially after the after party for the Magic tour).

The party went on and as Fred and I stood side by side of each other looking out at the other party guests I turned to him and said.

“You know I’m really surprised Fred. You really mellowed out.”

“Well darling the older you get, the less of a party animal you become. Even the champ must lose at one point.”

“All these metaphors and old saying you’ve been saying throughout this past year, I swear Fred you should be a philosopher.”

“As great as some of their sayings are, they’d be boring to meet in real life. And dear I refuse to be boring.” He playfully dipped my hat forward covering my eyes.  I groaned and playfully shoved him as I readjusted my hat.

That’s when I noticed a band on his right ring finger.

I took his hand and held it and looked up at him and asked him intrigued.

“And just what is this Fred?”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know.” Fred teased me.

“C’mon Fred. You know as well as I that this ring isn’t like any of the old concert rings you used to wear ten years ago. So out with it.” Fred looked around before clasping my hand with his and he dragged me off upstairs where we would have some privacy.

We made it to his master suite and there I saw Delilah and Goliath both sunning themselves on the bed.

“It’s from Jim.” Freddie spoke softly as he stared down at th ring lovingly. “He gave it to my just before everyone got here. A sorta—one year anniversary present. I would wear it on my left hand if I could but—you know how people are these days when it comes to relationships. Especially with mine.”

I walked up to him and cupped his face between my hands.  He and I stared at each other and I said to him.

“I’m happy for you Fred. Truly I am. And hell if it were up to me, I’d have you and Jim married tonight if you both wanted to.”

“I know you would darling.” He very gingerly pinched my cheek.

“And……people can be bastards. They think that sexual relationships have to be in a straight fashion. Even Johanna and Graham thought that way. Any trace of homosexuality, they’d treat them as if they were scum of the scum. They’d even tried to brainwash me into believing it as well. But thankfully I have more common sense than them or anyone else that thinks that way. Love is Love. As long as two people are happy and in love with each other, so long as they are of legal age, then it doesn’t matter.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“A lioness with a heart of gold. Your parents would be proud of you darling.” He said as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Who knows maybe one day the world can change and have people of the same sex get married. And when that day comes, I’ll be right there at your side as your Maid of honor.” Freddie softly smiled and said.

“I’ll let you plan the whole thing out if you want.”

“Good cause you know I’ve got some suggestions.”

“You did learn from the best.”

“Also I’m gonna tell you what you once told me when Jack and I first became a couple. If he breaks your heart, or makes you cry like that last bastard of a man you had, I’ll pop him off his arse till he’s in a coma.”

We both softly laughed and pecked each other’s cheeks before embracing each other tightly.  “Never change my darling Rock Angel.”

“Never Freddie. So long as you never change either.”

“With you by my side, I doubt I ever will.” We both softly laughed.

“C’mon. I’m betting everyone’s wondering where the birthday boy is at.” We took each other’s hands once more and walked out of his master suite and headed back downstairs.

Everyone gathered in the back garden as Jim, Terry and Phoebe pulled out the cake (which was sculpted into the shape of an orange, black and white patterned cat standing on a podium with its paw up in the air).

Once the sparkling candles were lit, we all sang Happy birthday to Freddie.  Freddie stood by his cake smiling and gushing about till the end of the song before finally blowing out his candles.

“I better not expect a girl wearing a cat costume to pop out and ruin this cake!” we all laughed and that’s when Jim came up to him and delicately cut the bottom part of the cake.  As Jack and I sat together I couldn’t take my eyes off of Freddie.

He was just radiating this pure energy as he chatted away with Phoebe, Jim and his other friends that he knew outside of Queen. He truly was a ray of sunshine who made everyone laugh and smile, and I am so glad that he got out of Prenter’s grasp when he did cause this this was the Freddie I knew and loved.

“He seems happier with Jim.” Jack said to me as he ate a piece of his cake.

“He does. He finally found himself a little niche in life. And I’m happy for him.”

“So they’re really together, aren’t they?” Jack asked me. Of course there wasn’t any hatred or disgust as my husband spoke those words, he genuinely wanted to know whether or not Freddie and Jim were seriously an item or not.

“They are. And I can see that it’s real love between those two. I hope they stay together for a long, long time. They’re good for each other.”

“I’ll admit it, even though I’ve never really seen a gay romance for myself. I think they really do love each other.”

“It’s just like us. Like Deacy and Ronnie, like any other straight marriage or relationship. It doesn’t matter the gender of the person so long as two people love each other and care about one another. Love is Love.”

“I can get behind that.” Jack said as he nuzzled his face into my neck making me giggle softly.

It was about an hour after sunset when the party finally came to a close.  Everyone bid their goodbyes to Freddie and when I had invited Fred and Jim to come and have tea tomorrow, that’s when I found out that they would actually be leaving for Japan tomorrow afternoon.

“Oh wow Japan. You two going on your honeymoon?” I playfully nudged Fred.

“It’s not so much a honeymoon dear. Just a way for Jim and I to get to know each other a little more without all the press and cameras stalking us.”

“Understood. Those blood-sucking leeches.”

“Tell me about it.” He grumbled.

“Well I hope you both have a safe trip and enjoy yourselves.”

“We will darling. And I’ll be sure to pick something up for the mini-angel’s birthday in a couple months. As well as a souvenir gift.”

“You know she’s still a baby right?”

“So what? Just because she’s a baby doesn’t mean I have to stop spoiling her.” I rolled my eyes and embraced Freddie and he hugged me back.

“You’re gonna drive me to early grey hair Mercury.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous darling.” He said in a posh tone. “As I’ve always said you’re gonna be an ageless beauty. It’s me and the other guys that’ll age like milk.” I slapped his arm then we kissed each other goodbye then Jack and I took our leave.

When we arrived back home, we came in to see Derek sitting on the couch watching the news.

“How was the party?” he asked us.

“Mellow but fun. How was our girl?” Jack said.

“Barely gave me any trouble, unlike my own daughter when she was that age. The only fuss she made was when I had to change her nappie before bed.”

“She’s done that with us too. Mum hopes she’ll grow out of it soon.” I said as I walked up to him.

‘Growing cases of the AIDS and HIV virus continues to climb. So far in England alone more than 1000 confirmed deaths have occurred due to the virus…..’ I shut the TV off and muttered angrily.

“I hate the news. They never have anything positive to say. All it is is just death, gang bangs, cults, economy crashes, war, or this new virus that’s been coming up.”

“Don’t let it affect you too much Angel, you don’t need to have all that negativity floating in your head. Well I best be off.”

“Thanks again Derek, I’ll send you your payment in the morning.” I told him.

“No need. This one’s on the house. Have a good night Angel, Jack.”

“Night Derek. Drive safely.” Jack told him as Derek grabbed his coat and keys then left the house.

Jack and I changed out of our party clothes and got into our pajamas and cuddled close together.

“G’night Jack.” I yawned.

“G’night my love. Sweet dreams.” Jack whispered.  He kissed my forehead as the two of us fell asleep cuddled under the sheets.

[warriors-swappedfates-au]

The Hawk

It was a sunny day despite leaf-fall’s usually cloudy skies. Mistlekit was playing with her brother, Snowkit. Bramblekit and Tawnykit, who were the two’s denmates, had stated that Snowkit was hard to play with due to his deafness, and ended up gravitating towards their older half-siblings, Lynxpaw and Swiftpaw, instead. 

While she wouldn’t admit it, it annoyed her to no end; it wasn’t Snowkit’s fault he was deaf! Plus, Speckletail, Fireheart and Cinderpelt were all three working on making sign-speak and making it mandatory to learn, which made the she-kit excited.

The two’s mother exited the nursery, Fireheart and Cinderpelt not far behind. Tawnykit and Bramblekit were busy talking to Dappletail, their grandmother, in the elders’ den, who was likely telling them a story of some sort, meaning that she and Snowkit currently had the nursery to themselves; they much preferred playing outside, though.

Just then, an ear-splitting caw came from the skies. Mistlekit’s whiskers turned back and her ears were far to the side, the pupils in her hazel eyes dilating. She turned to the nursery, where Speckletail and the others clearly heard the cry.

“Bramblekit, Tawnykit!” Goldenflower yowled from across the camp. The kits peeked out of the elders’ den just before the caw came again; Mistlekit overcame her fear just enough to look up and see the hawk flying through the skies above, closer and closer to the camp.

“Mistlekit, Snowkit, get inside!” Speckletail exclaimed. The she-kit obeyed her mother’s command, but Snowkit was playing naively, looking confused as to why his sister had left.

Everything seemed to slow down as Bramblekit and Tanwykit entered the nursery. The hawk swooped down…

And grabbed Snowkit with its talons.

The tom looked shocked into silence, otherwise Mistlekit knew he’d have striked or something of the sort. Some warriors had peeked out of their den moments prior, and while the hawk was still close to the ground, Brackenfur raced out of the den and attempted to attack the large bird before being shook off onto the ground.

“Snowkit!” their mother cried, tears in her eyes as the hawk flew away, Snowkit in its grasp.

“I’m going after it,” Brackenfur’s mew was angry, though the she-kit knew it wasn’t directed towards anyone in particular.

“Me and Lynxie are going too,” Swiftpaw’s voice came, as he and his sister approached.

“Me too!” Brightpaw exclaimed, bounding toward her brother. “I know how much he means to you and Cinderpelt, and I want to make sure he’s safe as much as anyone else in the Clan!”

The tom gave a nod, kinking his tail over back in a motion Mistlekit - and Snowkit too, she hoped - knew meant follow me.

The commotion in the Clan was great, and despite her immense worry, Speckletail was distracted by making sure everyone was alright as much as Cinderpelt and everyone else. The hawk hadn’t harmed anyone, it seemed, but it still caused a shock, and Mistlekit assumed the medicine cat was just giving poppy seeds or whatever other herbs were needed to calm shock were given.

In the chaos, Mistlekit knew that she had to find her brother, alongside the small patrol; yes, Speckletail would be mad at her, but Lynxpaw and Swiftpaw would surely honor her bravery.

Opening her jaws to get a whiff of the territory, she smelled Brackenfur’s familiar, bland scent and Brightpaw’s sweet honey scent. Giving a look back at the camp to make sure no one would notice her disappearance, she slipped away, following the patrol’s path intently.

                                                        *     *     *

Mistlekit came to a stop when she heard Brackenfur and the others discussing amongst themselves.

“What do hawks smell like?” Swiftpaw, I think…

“Well normally they eat mice, voles, squirrels, that sort of stuff, and their pelts end up smelling like a mesh of the blood and their fresh-kill,” Brackenfur’s voice was clear to her as he added, “one of the few things Graystripe taught me, he said he learned it from Lionheart.”

“Well I don’t smell hawk, but I think I smell a ThunderClan cat,” Lynxpaw’s mew was clear as well, “I can’t tell who…”

“Where’s it coming from?” came Brightpaw’s voice in a question. Mistlekit couldn’t see out of the bushes, but she guessed that the tortoiseshell pointed in her direction, because the group’s pawsteps approached her hiding spot.

“Mistlekit?” Brackenfur asked, pushing the bushes to the side. “What are you doing out of camp?”

“Snowkit is my brother,” she growled, sounding more hostile than intended, “even if I’m not an apprentice, I’m helping to find him if it's the last thing I do!”

The warrior gave her a look that was stern, amused and prideful all at the same time before Lynxpaw walked over to their friend.

“You okay Mistle?” he asked, worry in her amber eyes, which made Mistlekit feel odd, in a way.

“Yeah!” she squeaked. “Have you found Snowkit’s trail yet?”

“No,” Brightpaw said with a sigh, before gasping and whirling around to face Mistlekit, “Mistlekit, if you found us, surely you’re a good tracker, right?”

“Cloudpaw’s probably still better,” the gray tabby muttered. In all honesty, it was true. Cloudpaw was the best tracker in the Clan, perhaps due to his time spent in Twolegplace or something of the sort making him used to the abundance of scents and picking them out. To Mistlekit, it all came to her at once, though she was still able to pick them out… sometimes, at least.

“Cloudpaw is a good tracker, but he’s gotten training and you, well, haven’t,” Swiftpaw pointed out, flicking his tail a bit, “plus you know Snowkit’s scent better than any of us.”

“I guess you are right,” Mistlekit mewed, thinking. I do know Snowy’s scent well, but we’re cats, for StarClan’s sake! Our whiskers mean we have more enhanced senses or something along those lines. We’re good at identifying scents! But now I wonder why Twolegs and birds don’t have whiskers… she shook herself out of her distracted thoughts, looking up at Swiftpaw, “yeah, you’re right!”

She took a sniff and opened her jaws in order to internalize it, before kinking her tail over back and hopping along, following her brother’s scent, which was, in this case, meshed with that of the prey on the fresh-kill pile.

The trail began to smell less and less like fresh-kill as they continued, and Mistlekit felt her tail prick up and bend at the end in excitement as she quietly chirruped to herself. Snowkit was close, she was sure!

The scent got more and more clear until it was as close as the patrol following her.

“Snowkit?” she called before mentally berating herself. Dummy, he’s deaf! … well surely that just means his sense of smell and eyesight are better, right-

“Mistlekit?”

The way it sounded stranger then how a normal cat spoke made it clear to Mistlekit that it was her brother as the white tom in question peeked around the corner, blue eyes shining as he saw his sister.

“Snowy!” she exclaimed, bounding over and tackling him, tail up in excitement. Knowing that Snowkit could at least somewhat tell what cats were saying, she added, speaking slowly, “How did you get away?”

Snowkit paused a second before beginning to speak, Mistlekit having to assist a bit. “When I was grabbed by the big bird I was shocked for a bit-”

“A heartbeat?” Mistlekit asked. Snowkit nodded before he continued.

“But then I bit him and he flew away. I managed to land on my paws and was just wandering, trying to find ThunderClan,” he finished.

“You’re better at talking then I thought,” Swiftpaw mewed, getting headbutted by his sibling, “hey!”

“He’s improved,” Mistlekit smiled, “plus Mommy, Fireheart and Cinderpelt are all three working on making a sign-speak!”

“Sign-speak?” Brightpaw asked, curious.

“It uses tail signals and that sorta stuff so cats can communicate with deaf cats and so mute cats can communicate with others,” she explained, “that’s what Mommy told me at least. She also said that StarClan tries to keep cats from being mute and deaf and blind and that kinda stuff but isn’t that successful all the time.”

“Can we get back to camp now?” Snowkit asked. “I’m tired and wanna sleep.”

“We’re becoming apprentices soon, remember?” his sister asked, to which he nodded, smiling.

“I hope you’ll be my mentor!” he exclaimed, flicking his tail at Brackenfur, who chuckled.

“Come on, you two,” he smiled, “let’s get back to camp. Your mom’s probably worried sick.”

With that, the two made their way back to camp with the patrol. Mistlekit felt a strange feeling, ominous in a way…

As if it wasn’t intended to be like this.

But she paid it no mind.

[robininthelabyrinth]

A Winter’s Tale - 3 - Ao3 link

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart

Summary: Mick Rory is on a mission to save his family, and if it means kidnapping Mayor Leonard Snart, so be it.

Though he’s not expecting it to go like this.

(Dragons and Faeries and Metas - oh my!)

A/N: For the coldwave winter week, run by @coldwaveevents

Chapter 3: Inside Mick’s Novel + Mobsters / Crime Noir (+ Mistletoe)

———————————————————————————————–

"I can't believe the car flies," Snart says, peering out the window over the canyon they’re soaring over.

"It opens dimensional portals," Mick points out. "And you're impressed that it flies?"

Snart shrugs, continuing to inspect the car. "Yeah," he says after a while. "I don't know shit about dimensional breaches. But I know a bit about aerodynamics, and this car ain't got shit."

"You're thinking too small, Snart," Mick says. "This is a world with magic."

Snart looks skeptical.

He's...not wrong.

“I think part of the problem,” Snart says thoughtfully, “is that I can’t really imagine anyone bothering to put in all the work and risk all the danger you’re always telling me about magic to enchant an old convertible Honda Civic.”

“Hey, it’s the best type of car!”

“No. It ain’t.”

“…it’s a decent type of car.”

Snart snorts. "Still no."

“I have good memories of this type of car.”

“I’ll allow that,” Snart says. “How’d you get her?”

Mick pauses.

“Oh, now I’m going to press,” Snart says. “Any time you pause, it’s you hoping you can lie to me or evade the subject, and it never works. Just tell me now.”

Mick makes a face at him.

“Soulmates,” Snart reminds him. “I won’t mock you. Much.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Really! At most I’ll just tease you about it on every anniversary we have for the next twenty years. At most.”

Twenty years of anniversaries.

That…doesn’t sound too bad.

Mick kinda likes the idea of this guy sticking around for twenty years.

“Well,” Snart muses, “I’ll either tease you about it or about the fact that you wouldn’t tell me about it…”

Mick rolls his eyes. "Okay, remember what I said about using my Sight to find the Book of Brigid?"

"Given that you said it only about twenty minutes ago, and I ain’t a goldfish? Yeah, I remember. What is that? The Book? Some magic thing?"

"You could say that."

"You wanna say more than that?"

Mick winces. "It's a magic book that incarnates stuff that you write in it."

Snart is quiet for a long moment.

Mick braces himself. The Book of Brigid may not be as infamous in Snart’s world as it is here, but Snart’s an intelligent guy – and perhaps more importantly, a guy – and there’s only one place his brain’s gonna jump.

"So," Snart drawls, his eyes delighted, "if you were to write porn -"

Yep. There he goes.

“It requires creativity to function! You can’t just write a list of instructions or something. It’s got to be artistic.”

“So, what, you wrote erotica?”

"I wrote a romance," Mick says with dignity he totally doesn’t have. "Science fiction. Garima was the Queen of an alien planet and had samurai fighting powers."

"Samurai don't have powers."

"On your world, maybe."

Snart considers that, then shrugs in acceptance. "Alien, huh," he says. "If I promise not to judge, would you tell me if she had any, uh, special -"

"Three tits."

Snart presses his lips together.

"You said you wouldn't judge!"

"I said if. But as it happens, I can't blame you for giving a book like that a shot, and at least you did something interesting with it. Three tits is a good start. I’d be more disappointed if you’d just gone for something totally vanilla, like a secretary willing to bang you or something."

"S'not like the stuff the book creates lasts," Mick says, still embarrassed. Though at least Snart likes his creativity – that’s a positive sign. "Otherwise I would've just written me some loot or something."

Snart smirks. "Do I get a turn with the book?"

"Depends. You a creative type? Writer, artist, playwright..?"

Snart frowns. "I'm...really good at drawing blueprints?"

“Not quite what I meant,” Mick says, rolling his eyes. "But hey, if I ever need a temporary house built, I'm coming to you."

"I'm better at banks. Anyway, what's the point of building a house that doesn't last?"

"Dunno. Trap?"

"Hmm. Not a bad idea. So what's this book got to do with your flying, universe-hopping car...wait. No."

Mick grins. "Yep."

"You didn't."

"I did," Mick confirms, reaching out to pat the dashboard of his wonderful flying car fondly. "Meet Garima, in her newest incarnation."

The car purrs at him.

Snart bursts out laughing.

Mick can't really blame him.

"We're -" Snart chokes. "You telling me we're inside -"

He loses it again.

Mick smirks.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says, unable to keep from smiling at Snart's irrepressible mirth. "You won't be laughing when we're dealing with dragons."

"If I can deal with a real life Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - emphasis on the bang bang, if you get my drift -"

Okay, that's enough to get Mick to start laughing, too.

"- then I think I can handle some measly dragons!"

"You'll need to stop sniggering if we're gonna make it in," Mick warns.

"I'll sober up in time to help us sneak in," Snart says, wiping his eyes. "I promise."

Actually, getting into the dragon meeting-hall is the easy part.

Even with Snart stopping to stare in awe at the dragons every five seconds. Not that Mick can blame him: dragons are majestic beings, with bodies the size of a moose and then wings and tails besides. Some of them even breathe fire.

They're also remarkably indifferent to humans wandering through their halls, but Mick's pretty sure that's only because they're a bit iffy on telling humans apart and don't want to accuse one of their own servants of being an intruder.

Dragons hate being embarrassed.

Unfortunately, that also means that they won't take being the victim of a theft lightly, so they're going to have to be careful, cautious, and -

"Are you staring again?" Mick hisses. "Snart, the dragons haven't changed! Get your head together and start planning!"

"I will, I will," Snart says. His voice is oddly strangled - more like he's trying not to laugh than the wonder that he'd had at first. "It ain't that. It's just - are - do dragons always talk like that?"

Mick frowns. He hadn't noticed anything unusual - the dragons, talking amongst themselves, just sounded like dragons always did. "Talk like what?"

"You know."

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking, would I?"

Snart waves his hands as if that'll explain everything. "Like," he hesitates. "Well, like they've just escaped a Gotham gangster movie."

Mick scowls at him. "None of those words made sense."

"I don't know how else to explain it," Snart says defensively. "It's like they stepped out of the 30s or whatever. Prohibition-era, rum-running, gangster molls, the whole lot of 'em..."

"Snart. Not helping."

Snart sighs. "Yeah, I can tell. Does the accent at least match your Gotham?"

"...what's Gotham?"

Snart's eyes go wide. "Oh. Oh. This is your Gotham, ain't it?"

"You're talking nonsense."

"No, this is great," Snart says. "It makes no sense, but if it's true...tell me, is there a particularly wealthy dragon -"

"They're dragons. They sleep on gold and complain of poverty while they do it."

"Well, maybe gold isn't a valuable measure of currency for them," Snart says dismissively, like it hadn't taken humans an unreasonable number of generations to puzzle that out. "But I mean - especially wealthy, even among dragons. Indulge me; I'm testing out a theory."

"There's a few," Mick says. He has no idea where Snart is going with this. "Among the entirety of dragonkind? Or just local?"

"Local."

Mick thinks about it. "Uh," he says. "One by the name of Wayne, I guess?"

"I knew it!"

"Shhh!"

Snart shuts up and they continue walking through the hallways. The dragons might be oblivious, but they're not stupid.

"Why do you care, anyway?" Mick asks. "Wayne's a ditz, even for a dragon. Inherited his hoard from his parents."

Snart's eyes are bright with amusement. "I suppose that depends on whether this place has a bat problem."

"A what? No, wait, shit -"

It's too late. One of the dragons walking by has, for some reason, started to turn towards them - a fairly involved endeavor, but one that didn't take as much time as Mick would've preferred.

"What do you know about bats?" the dragon - a female, from the tone of her high-pitched, nasal voice, though who is Mick to know how dragons do gender? - asks. "You got something to say?"

"Depends," Snart drawls, his own voice suddenly gone nasal as well. "You got a name, doll?"

The dragon -

Giggles.

What in the name of fuck...?

"You're funny," she says. "I'm Harley."

Snart puts a hand to his chest. "Not Harley Quinn? I'm honored."

The dragon blinks. "You've heard of me?"

Now it's Mick's turn to blink. How could Snart've heard of the name of a dragon in a totally different universe?

"Oh, sure," Snart says. "Tough as nails and twice as funny, just like a harlequin play...you with Ivy now?"

Now the dragon really looks shocked. "You know Ivy?"

"I'm in the know."

"Clearly! Who youse got squealing to ya, anyway? Tell me!"

"Oh, you get to know all sorts of people and find out all sorts of interesting things in my line of work," Snart says vaguely. "Pass along a kiss under the mistletoe to Ivy, will you? Courtesy of my employer."

"Your employer. Ooooooh, you gotta tell me!”

"I ain't saying nothing," Snart says. "But if a wink'll do you -" He taps the side of his nose for some reason. "- then you might think of someone cold and squawky."

"Oswald!" the dragon - Harley, apparently? - squeals. "Oh, that's rich. What's he want?"

"Dunno," Snart says. "Something about some sorta spear or shit? Heavily guarded."

"The Spear of Destiny? Why's he want that?"

"New centerpiece?"

The dragon snorts fire when she laughs. "For the Iceberg Club? He would! Alright, c'mon, let's go get it for ya. If Ozzie wants to ask for trouble, he's welcome to it - Bats can handle retrieval, and we’ll all laugh it up."

"You're the best," Snart says, very sincerely.

Mick checks - for about the fifth time - to make absolutely sure the guy's a human.

They're walking out with the spear less than twenty minutes later.

"Snart," Mick says, then stops. Where does he even start?

"Gotham," Snart says with satisfaction, as if that means anything. "I'm a Central City boy born and bred, but every criminal knows the basic rules of play for Gotham."

"What is Gotham?" Mick demands.

"In my world? A city. A corrupt, stinking cesspit of a city, where everyone who ain't a supervillain knows what's what and those that are? Well, they’re are crazier than a crapload of cuckoos, and I’m pretty sure it’s just intentional blindness."

Mick shakes his head. "You're telling me you know the human equivalent of all those dragons?"

"Yup."

“…they really must be crazy.”

“No kidding.”

"Still…you were able to manipulate 'em all based on just what you knew about their personalities in your universe? How'd you know they’d still be the same? Especially since they’re dragons here!"

"Lucky guess."

Mick's eyebrows arch. He's not using his Sight right now, but the frequency of Snart's "lucky" guesses is starting to become a bit suspicious.

He opens his mouth to ask when Snart's own eyebrows suddenly go up.

"I suggest we hurry without looking like we're hurrying," he says.

"Why?" Mick asks, subtly speeding up already.

"See that dragon?" Snart asks, nodding at a short but unusually rotund dragon waddling towards the main hall with a small entourage of dragons and humans trailing behind him. "If I had to guess just based on looks, that's probably this world’s Oswald."

"...the guy you said sent us to get the spear?"

"Yeah. And Harley's gonna ask him about it when she sees him."

"And then she'll get embarrassed and swear vengeance on us. Great."

"Harley Quinn doesn't get embarrassed," Snart says. "She finds things funny. But, uh, just in case -"

"Race you to the car?"

"Right."