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[personal profile] daylight_darknight
Since there was so much Mick angst in the last fic I wrote, I felt that Mick could use a little love (I actually started writing this before I even finished the last one) And I am of course a complete sucker for hugs especially seeing characters who are generally non-huggers in a realistic situation where they hug or are hugged, so I had to write this.

Title: Free Hugs
Characters: Mick, Ray, Jax, Martin, Sara, Rip, Leonard
Rating/Warnings: PG
Genre: Fluff, Humor, Friendship
Word Count: 1700
Spoilers: none
Summary: Five times someone hugged Mick and one time he hugged someone else.


Two long, lanky arms wrapped around Mick and squeezed tightly, a lean torso pressing against his and a pointed chin coming to rest on his shoulder.

Mick’s first reaction was to freeze, every muscle stiffening. If the owner of the arms had been anyone else, his second reaction would have been to push them away, and then to give the person a punch in the face for good measure. Instead, he said, “What the hell are you doing, Haircut?”

“It’s called a hug,” said Ray, clinging onto Mick like a monkey clinging to a tree trunk or a starfish clinging to a bolder by the ocean.

As solid and unmoving as that tree or that boulder, Mick scowled. “Why are you hugging me?”

“Because you just saved my life,” Ray declared as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, if you want to keep that life, I suggest you let go now,” Mick growled.

Ray let go and took a step back but he didn’t appear the least bit put out by Mick’s reaction. His smile remained wide and bright.

Mick levelled a finger at him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Ray just grinned wider. “Then don’t save my life.”

“Don’t tempt me,” snapped Mick and he stomped off.


As it turned out, Mick and Jax were the only real football fans on the team. In fact, though Ray admitted to occasionally watching baseball, Martin had some interest in hockey, and Sara enjoyed a good MMA fight, they were really the only sports fans period which is how the two of them often found themselves watching games together.

Whenever they were in a time period where Gideon could catch the broadcast of a game, they’d grab some popcorn and pretzels, or whatever other unhealthy snack they’d managed to sneak on board, and would watch wherever they could find a decent screen and a comfortable seat. Ray would occasionally join them, Sara too, but it was Mick and Jax who would really get into it, who would cheer and boo, who would yell at the players and throw their snacks at the screen.

Jax in particular could be very passionate about the games, so Mick shouldn’t have been surprised that one day when Jax’s favourite team won a game they should never have conceivably won, Jax reacted with a fair amount of enthusiasm, and Mick wasn’t surprised for the most part.

He wasn’t surprised when Jax leapt to his feet sending the bowl of popcorn on his lap flying.

He wasn’t surprised when Jax pounded his fists in the air and cheered.

He wasn’t even surprised when Jax proceeded to do an improvised dance routine around the room.

He was surprised however when Jax interrupted his dance to throw his arms around Mick in a quick but enthusiastic hug before doing some more shuffling steps across the floor.

Normally Mick would have protested, would have growled, sworn, told him off, but he decided that this time he’d let it go. Jax was only a kid after all and besides the Packers had just won.


“Hey, Professor,” Mick called out as he entered the Waverider’s laboratory. “You done yet? The Captain needs that thingamajig working pronto.”

Martin, bent over a work bench, tools clasped in his hands, didn’t bother to look up from the device in front of him. “That thingamajig, as you call it, is a quantum matter field modulator, and no, it’s not done yet.”

Mick made a face. “I think I prefer thingamajig.”

“You are talking about an apparatus which is the absolute pinnacle of science and engineering.” The device in question sparked and began to smoke. “Or it would be if I could actually get it working.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Sighing, Martin put down his tools and ran a hand through his white hair. “I just can’t seem to stop it from overloading. The radiation from the energy compiler is leaking out contaminating the field matrix and causing it to overheat.”

“So why don’t you just plug the leak?” said Mick, latching on to one of the few words he understood.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s...” Martin began, but then he stopped and his eyes widened. “Wait. If I...”

He picked up his tools and descended on the device once more muttering technical nonsense to himself. Within a few seconds, the device had lit up and was emitting a steady hum.

“Yes!” he exclaimed flinging his hands into the air. “That’s it!”

With a wide grin on his face, Martin turned to Mick and placed his hands on the arsonist’s shoulders. “Mr. Rory, you’re brilliant!” he said and pulled the man into a firm hug before dashing off to find Captain Hunter.

Mick just stood there, too shocked by the fact someone had called him brilliant to even register he’d been hugged.


It took a lot to get Sara drunk, so Mick was suitably impressed when he went to retrieve her from the bar they were supposed to meet at and found her completely and utterly shitfaced.

“Mick!” she cried when she saw him, a large lazy grin on her face, her head resting on her hand as if it might fall off if she didn’t hold it up.

“Been having fun, Blondie?”

“Oh, yeah,” she declared. “All sorts of fun.” She swept an arm out as if to demonstrate and knocked over one of the empty bottles sitting in front of her.

Luckily, Mick was able to catch the bottle before it rolled off the bar and shattered drawing even more unwanted attention on the two of them.

Sara didn’t even seem to notice. “Care to join me?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows.

The idea of a drunken night in a bar was appealing but it hadn’t taken more than a glimpse of Sara for Mick to realize he had to get her out of there as soon as possible.

“Next time,” said Mick. “Come on, Blondie. Time to go home.”

“Aww,” Sara whined pouting her lip. “But I’m not done yet.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mick reached over and took a hold of Sara’s arm.

Sara leaned towards him, eyes meeting his with a surprisingly intense gaze, and whispered, “I’ve got three knives on me. I could have you bleeding on the floor in half a second.”

Mick met her gaze unflinching. “And I could roast you alive with the lighter in my pocket,” he deadpanned.

The intense look on Sara’s face vanished as she let out a giggle. “Good old Mick,” she said patting him on the arm.

Mick pulled her to her feet and she didn’t resist though she did sway slightly. She leaned on him as he escorted her out of the bar.

“You know your sister wouldn’t want this,” Mick said as they walked along the darkened streets.

“Oh, Mick,” said Sara. She wrapped her arms around him, and standing on her tiptoes, placed a kiss on his cheek. “You’d have been a good big sister.” She giggled again. “I mean brother.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mick grumbled, but he kept a hold of her as they continued on their way back to the ship.


The Legion had had Rip for almost a month before the team finally tracked him down.

It was Mick who managed to find the actual cell where they’d imprisoned him having come across the place when the team split up. After pummelling and roasting a few goons, he unlocked the cell with a set of keys he’d gotten off one of them and yanked the door open crying, “You going to waste your whole life in there, Rip, or do you want to get out of here?”

Rip was sitting on a bench at the far end of the room, bent over resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He was pale and dirty and bloody, and when he looked up, the expression on his face was one Mick had never seen before, eyes wide and glistening, mouth agape as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.


“Yeah, I know,” Mick replied with a smirk. “Probably not your first choice of rescuer but it’s not like you’ve got much of an option.”

Still wearing the shocked expression, Rip slowly got to his feet and walked over to him using the wall as support, his legs unsteady. “They said you were all dead. They showed me...” He stopped, swallowing.

Mick snorted. “Last I checked everyone was still alive and kicking.”

Rip let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said and fell against Mick.

Mick grabbed ahold of him assuming he’d tripped or possibly passed out. It wasn’t until the arms infolding him began to squeeze and he felt the fingers clutch tightly to his shirt that he realized what was going on.

The hug only lasted a few seconds, and then Rip stiffened seeming to realize what he was doing and quickly pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed.

“It’s alright,” said Mick patting him on the back. “I don’t mind.” And was surprised to realize that he didn’t.


The moment Mick spotted Snart he began striding towards him, his long legs eating up the space and carrying him quickly across the room. He strode forward with such single minded determination and with an expression so fierce that Leonard’s eyes widened when he saw him and he blanched looking as if he was seriously considering whether or not to run the other way, but it was too late. As soon as Mick had Snart within his reach, he grabbed ahold of him and pulled him forward wrapping his strong arms tightly around him.

“Mick?” said Leonard, sounding rather confused and more than a little shocked, his voice muffled by Mick’s coat as his face was currently pressed against Mick’s shoulder. “Are you hugging me?”

“No,” Mick denied, gruffly, his grip on Snart tightening even more. “I’m slowly crushing the life out of you.”

“Um, okay.”

There was a long pause as Mick continued with his non-hug refusing to let Leonard go.

“Are you planning to stop crushing the life out of me anytime soon?” Leonard asked after a while.

“No,” Mick replied, vehemently.


Slowly and tentatively, Leonard’s arms reached up and he began to hug Mick back.
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