"I hate men" was all Alex said as she climbed into the seat next to Sara, who was trying to keep a straight face through it all.

"Let me guess," The blonde replied, starting the stolen car, "You didn't get the job."

Alex sighed, leaning her head against the back of the leather seat, "No," she pursed her lips, "The interviewer said there was no way I knew enough about Greece's Archaic Period." She shook her head biting her lip in frustration, "My Mom grew up in the Archaic Period!" she protested, ignoring the smirk growing across Sara's face, "I had a vase from Ancient Athens in my room for a good sixteen years!"

The only thing Sara did in response was chuckle, brushing her hand up and down Alex's arm, trying to soothe her. It wasn't working.

Her anger was clawing at her stomach. The ride back to the apartment was silent, another job to cross off the list. The January snow was little more than an inch and crunched under their heels as they walked up the tall building to the fourth floor, Alex angrily jamming the key into the door and turning it.

"I'm just tired of getting rejected," She continued, setting her jacket on the coatrack they had purchased a week ago, "I just want to interview for a job without having to worry about my skin tone or gender accidentally 'offending' the interviewer." Her tone was sarcastic, reciting the same excuse the last man had used to refuse her a job handing out tickets at a theatre. Sara pulled her in for a hug, gently stroking her back.

"Hey," She began, "It's gonna be okay, you'll get there eventually."

Alex pulled away, nodding before pressing forward, catching sight of Kendra and Ray finishing up dinner and starting to wash the dishes.

"Hey!" Ray's cheery voice usually made her feel better, but today it sent annoyance spurring in her stomach, causing it to twist. "How'd the interview go?"

Alex couldn't take it anymore. Turning back around, she found the door to her and Sara's room, shutting it behind her and collapsing on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she began to wonder if it was worth it.

If trying to make it in this world again was worth it. She couldn't get a job, she couldn't contact her friends, and she was stuck with the world's most annoying couple.

The knock on her door drew her out of her self-pity.

"Hey" Sara spoke softly, kneeling on the edge of the bed, "I know today was rough, but Ray made pasta," Alex turned to face the assassin, "And it would be rude not to eat it."

She chuckled, continuing to stare up at the ceiling for a few minutes before pulling her torso off the mattress, her lips twisting sideways into a smile, "Why are you always right?"

Sara tilted her head, biting her lip, "Because I'm smarter?" She teased, causing Alex to send a pillow flying her way, which she barely dodged. For the first time that day, Alex let herself laugh.

Her cheeks hurt by the time they wandered out to the table, finishing up the leftover pasta and trying to concentrate on something other than her numerous rejections this past month.

Trying to ignore the stirring in her chest when she met Ray's gaze.

And the emptiness she always felt when she kissed Sara.

She was temporary. A simple fix to a much more complicated problem. And she wasn't ready to face that yet.

The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the apartment. Everyone else had gone to bed a long time ago, and Alex was still up, a small lamp her only light as she peered over her resume.

She supposed it didn't look good that she didn't really work much prior to 1958.

It wasn't her fault a lot of the companies she had worked for didn't exist on this Earth.

She sighed, trying to figure out what exactly she could change to make herself more marketable.

To get them to look past the color of her skin and the gender she identified as.

Footsteps pulled her attention to the kitchen, where she caught sight of a familiar tall figure reaching into the fridge to try and find something to eat.

"Sara and I ate the last of your pasta," She made her presence known, causing Ray to jump before smiling and closing the door. Alex chuckled at his mannerisms, even scared, he still found a way to smile. "I'd offer you some of my chips and hummus," She continued, "But Sara told me you were allergic to gluten"

Ray strode over to the living room, his pajama pants dragging on the floor as he crossed his arms, "Well at least someone remembers," he joked, but there was something else behind it, something a bit mirthless. Like he truly was upset that only Sara seemed to know that about him.

Alex creased her eyebrows and stood up, pushing past Ray to grab her keys and stuff them in her pockets, checking her watch. It was almost 11:00 pm, he would be closing soon, but they could get there fast.

She popped another chip in her mouth, grabbing Ray's jacket from the coat rack and tossing it to him, "Come on, go grab your shoes," She instructed, her words muffled by the snacks in her mouth.

"What--what are you doing?" Ray asked, eyes squinting in confusion. Alex moved her hands in circles, trying to tell him to hurry up.

"We're going shopping, but we gotta hurry." She explained, "Now go get your shoes on."

Ray moved to the bench by the door, where he started to tie his nice shoes on. Alex stared as she leaned against the wall, her slippers halfway on.

Ray shrugged his shoulders, "They were the only ones close by."

Alex chuckled and shook her head, pulling her coat around her as she and Ray ventured out into the cold air.

"Care to tell me what we're doing?" Ray asked, trying to fill the silence as they walked. Alex stopped at the sidewalk, trying to remember which way the shop was. Once they got on their way, she double-checked her watch.

Five minutes, they could make it in time.

"We are going shopping," She announced, a wide smile on her face.

Ray stifled his laugh, "At eleven o'clock at night?"

"Technically, it's ten fifty-five," Alex corrected him, trying to recall the familiar path in the dark, "And yes, we are, because you deserve some damn good gluten-free snacks."

He scoffed, "Good luck trying to find them in this economy,"

"That's why you have me!" Alex perked up, their adventure cheering up her down spirits, maybe it was because someone else needed help. "One of the perks of being friends with an immortal who has lived for over ninety-seven years--" They rounded the corner and her smile grew wider when she saw that the store was still open, "Is that I know all the best places to buy cheap food when you need it."

She grasped Ray's hand and pulled him forward, rushing across the parking lot, hoping that he would let them in past closing time.

He was just closing up when they reached the doors.

"Not tonight chiquita," Sal sighed when he caught sight of her, "I need to get home to Francesca," His gaze moved to Ray beside her, "And I told you no more dates in my store," he added in Spanish.

"Sal, please," Alex ignored the blush forming on her cheeks from the insinuation, "My friend has no food, we just need a few minutes and then we'll be out of there okay?"

Silence hung between the store owner and his best customer. Alex found herself holding out hope, praying that her sympathy plea would be enough. The fact that Ray was in his pajamas lent itself to the lie, and she could see the wheels turning in Sal's head.

"Fine," He responded in English, holding out the keys to the store, "You know where to put them when you're finished."

She fist-pumped the air, bringing a kiss to Sal's cheek, "Muchas Gracias," She responded, grabbing the keys and gesturing for Ray to follow her.

He was stopped halfway by Sal, "If you hurt her," The store owner began in Spanish, "I will hunt you down to the ends of the earth and rip you apart piece by piece until I can sell your meat in my deli."

Ray's eyes widened at the clear threat, even though he didn't understand much of what he was saying and nodded, following Alex into the store. Her cheeks turned red at the threat and she chastised the old man before he left to crawl into his car.

"That was impressive," Ray responded, and Alex's stomach jumped at the compliment, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears.

"Okay," She diffused the tension, grabbing a cart, "Now, what are you looking for?"

They wandered the store for a good ten minutes, Alex grabbing gluten-free alternatives to her own favorite snacks, and then grabbing her favorite hummus, cause she was almost out anyway.

Ray was still stuck in the chip aisle when she finished finding everything that she needed. He was staring at the ingredients on the bag, his forehead creased like it did when he was working on an especially tough project, and Alex's lips perked upward at the sight. She couldn't help it, she decided as her chest pounded, Ray just looked too cute standing there trying to decide what chips to eat.

"Made a decision yet?" She joked.

Ray turned away from the chips to meet her teasing gaze, "This is a hard decision," he justified, "I mean, do I go with the lime flavored ones and no dip? Or do I go for the scoops which are perfect for dipping?" He stared between the two purple bags, biting his cheek in frustration, "and then dips are a whole other issue altogether--"
Reaching over, Alex grabbed both bags and threw them in the cart, "The answer is to get both" She told him, "That way you cut your shopping time down."

Ray chuckled and her stomach leaped again. He was feeling better. She was making him feel better.

"Besides, if you don't like them I'll eat 'em" Alex nudged his shoulder, and he followed her to the checkout, where she finished calculating everything.

Ray was bagging everything and she felt a tap on her shoulder, causing her to turn around, where she saw him holding the bag of pitas she had picked up.

"Um, gluten-free remember?" He pointed out.

Alex rolled her eyes, turning over the bag, "And if you look at the ingredients..." She pointed out the type of flour used, "You'll see that I did remember."

Something unusual passed over Ray's eyes and Alex turned away before she could get a better look, but she swore she saw a smile.

When all was said and done, they had left Sal a generous tip and locked the door behind them, leaving the keys in the lockbox and heading home.

She couldn't explain why she felt so much lighter after the outing. She just did. It was like all of her problems had floated away.

Ray looked happier too, and that was what pleased her the most. He had looked so down at the beginning of the night and now here he was, a wide smile on his face and recounting old stories.

"Oh man, I remember this one time," He began another one, "We were playing tag, and the way they play it is a mixture of hide and seek, and I hid in the sewer pipes" he chuckled at the memory, "They never found me and I ended up winning."

Alex's laugh bounced off the walls of the complex, pushing the door open so they could get out of the cold. She gently set the groceries down, grabbing what she needed to make the snack that had been on her mind all night.

"Oh man," Ray spoke happily, "Now I don't know how I'm gonna get to sleep after all that."

Alex smiled, grabbing the skillet from underneath the sink, setting up her workspace. She always planned to cook tonight, but maybe she wasn't the only one who needed it.

Maybe Ray needed a cooking night just as much as she did.

"Do you wanna help me?" She shook her box of spices she had accumulated over the past few weeks, "I'm making gyros, gluten-free" She made sure to add.

Ray shook his head, "Nah, I should get to bed, I mean, it is late."

"Oh come on!" Alex pleaded, grabbing hold of his arm, enjoying the feel of her bare skin against his, "It'll be so much fun, and I bet you've never had one before."

Ray bobbed his head, "Actually I have," he defended, "Florence, my senior year of college."

Alex rolled her eyes, "Well you haven't had mine, and I make the best gyros ever." She bragged. She didn't know why she was pushing so hard. Her cooking nights were hers. Before she had gone off on her own, they were shared with her mom. A way for them to bond, to learn a skill that wasn't fighting or strategy.

A way for them to have a semblance of normalcy in their lives. A way for them to act like a family. Like the ones she had seen strolling around the park.

Like the ones that had attended her high school and picked up their kids.

The one she wished she would've had.

"Alright," Ray finally answered, joining her by the warming skillet, "But just one and then it's bedtime." He smirked, popping one of the gluten-free chips they had recently bought in his mouth, washing his hands and drying them off with a towel.

"Okay, what do we do to start?"

Alex smiled and grabbed the chicken, pulling out a cutting board and handing it to Ray. "Okay, so first we need to slice these into thin, thin pieces," She emphasized, remembering what had happened the first time she tried to make one and the pieces were too big.

"Aye, aye captain," Ray joked, getting to work on the chicken while she began to make the sauce to marinate the meat in.

She was just finishing adding the oregano when she caught sight of Ray's slicing job. Sighing she turned to the inventor, cocking an eyebrow.

"What?" Ray asked when he caught her stare. Alex giggled.

"You call that thin?"

The meat was the width of her pinky finger, the same mistake she had made all those years ago. She stepped in, bringing Ray's arms around her and covering his hands to teach him the proper way to slice the chicken.

"You have to not be afraid of the knife," Alex instructed, grabbing hold of Ray's fingers and wrapping them around the handle, his head hanging over her shoulder to look at her technique.

"You grab the chicken, and when I say thin, I mean thin." She continued, using Ray's hands in order to help him learn, "and gently," She sliced through the meat, pausing as the knife hit the cutting board, gulping down the nerves that had found their way into her throat, the closeness of his arms around her body forcing a realization into her brain.

Recognizing the position she had put herself in.

Ray's breath was hot on her bare shoulder, the scent of vanilla and sandalwood weaving through her nostrils, sending her pulse racing.

His hands were soft, thumb curling around her own as she moved in for another slice.

She dropped the knife and plastered a smile on her face, turning around to face him, hoping she didn't look as mortified as she felt.

"Just like that," Alex refused to do anything else but smile, knowing if she did, Ray would catch on, and she couldn't--she wouldn't come between Ray and Kendra.

"Oh," Ray said in response, his lips perking upward, showing his teeth, "That makes much more sense."

Alex nodded, turning back around and moving back to the bowl of spices, adding in the lemon juice and swirling it around, trying not to think about the moment that had just passed.

Her pulse was off the charts and she forced herself to breathe to calm herself down, hands shaking as she grabbed the slices of chicken and mixed them into the bowl, instructing Ray to begin constructing the actual sandwich while she plastic-wrapped the meat and placed it in the fridge, setting her watch for one hour.

Ray had finished with both pitas, a wide smile on his face as he presented them to her like she was Gordon Ramsey. A giggle left her mouth.

"Perfect," She validated him, "Now they go into the fridge until the timer is done." She gestured to her watch, moving back to the living room, pulling at her tank top as she collapsed on the couch, staring at her resumes, remembering why she needed a cooking night in the first place.

Ray sat crisscross on the other side of the coffee table, handing her a mug of something.

She took a sip, straightening up when she realized that it was peppermint hot chocolate.

Her favorite. How did he know?

"I figured you might want something sweet," He explained, "My Grandma used to make peppermint hot chocolate whenever she was feeling down, I guess I picked up the habit."

Alex smiled softly at his words. No one had ever done much for her. Sara comforted her and spent time with her, but this...this is what sealed the deal.

This was why she loved Ray Palmer.

Her expression dropped as the thought crossed her mind. No. She didn't love him. She hardly knew him.

It was a very strong like. She tried to convince herself. That's all it was. She couldn't be in love with him.

It was friend love. Yes, that made sense. Friend love. It couldn't be more than that. Just good old platonic love. That was it. That's why the thought had crossed her mind. It hadn't been romantic love. Only platonic love.

"Your resume isn't that bad," Ray responded, placing the paper back on the table, "I think you just need to use the appropriate buzzwords." He advised, and from the look on his face, Alex knew he was thinking back to his years in business school.

"Really?" She asked, drawing a skeptical brow upward, "You think that's all I need to do?"

"Well yeah," Ray scooted closer, "See here?" He pointed at the experience section, "It just says moderated exhibits and gave tours of the archaic period," Alex nodded, she didn't see where he was going with this. Ray pursed his lips, looking around the room before crawling over to the end table, bringing a pen back to the stack of resumes.

"If you said something like, 'curated exhibits from archaic Grecian artists' or something like that," Ray began, writing his ideas down, "and 'introduced patrons to new cultural experiences' it sounds more professional," He finally decided, handing the resume back to her.

Now that Alex was looking at it, she finally understood what he was saying. He was right. It sounded more professional. Like she knew what she was talking about.

"Huh," Was all that came out of her mouth. She was speechless. Ray had completely changed her mind about job hunting. With stuff like this, she might be able to get through an interview.

"Thanks," She responded, finally settling on a word to show her gratitude, fully aware that it wasn't nearly enough.

Ray had probably saved her career. Certainly saved her from going bankrupt in 1959.

They continued rewriting her resumes for the next hour, finishing with the final one by the time the meat was done cooling. She pulled it free from the saran wrap and placed it on the hot grill, turning it over while Ray told her stories of his childhood again, mentioning his twin brother and his mom's support.

"She always loved each of my inventions," He continued, a fond look swirling in his irises, "She used to say they were her favorite part of the day,"

Alex smiled at that, finally stuffing the pitas and handing his gyro to him. "She sounds awesome,"

Ray smiled, "She is."

He leaned in to bite into the sandwich, ready to taste their creation when she stopped him with two words.

"My Dad." She announced, Ray froze and shut his mouth to look at her. Alex swallowed, trying to ignore the wetness building in the corner of her eyes.

"What?"

"You asked me why I don't like Christmas," She explained, finally ready to tell him, "It used to be my favorite holiday. The trees, the gifts." She pursed her lips, recalling the awful memory, "My uh, My dad died saving the allies in World War One,"

"Oh my god," Ray reached over, grabbing her hand in his, "Alex I'm so sorry."

She shrugged, like it was nothing. Like it was the changing weather. "When I was uh, when I was fourteen my grandma thought it would be a good time to tell me about my dad." She pulled her hand from Ray's, not needing this be any harder than it already was.

"Worst Christmas gift ever." She finally said, biting into her gyro, relishing in the taste of her comfort food. It traveled all the way to her stomach, settling and causing the tension in her shoulders to release.

She had opened up with Ray.

She had been vulnerable with him.

Just like he had with her.

Ray creased his brows together, clearly regretting asking about it in the first place, "I'm sorry."

"Thanks," was all she said in response. Silence hung between them, like it always did when she told people about her dad. They never knew what to say.

She never did either.

How do you tell people someone you love died without bringing down the mood? How do you move past that conversation?

Usually, people just stopped talking to her. Tip-toed around her, making sure they didn't mention death in any form. Making sure they didn't say anything that might trigger her.

She almost wished they did.

She wanted someone to prove they cared. Wanted someone to do something other than say they're sorry.

But she never got that. Instead, all she got were condolences and pity. She was used to it at this point. Ninety-seven years of telling the same story got old fast.

Death may have stopped for her, but life didn't stop for death.

She had to keep moving.

Ray turned back to his sandwich taking the first bite, his eyes widening as he did. "Holy shit," He cursed, expression growing wider at the word that slipped past his mouth and Alex's laugh echoed through the kitchen.

"This is really good." He smiled through his bites, and soon the gyro was gone, crumbs the only trace that it had existed in the first place.

Alex shook her head at his behavior, glad to have a friend again.