Ava giggles breathlessly, a little heady from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Sara laughs, too. They're standing over just two corpses of a couple of would-be rapists, the small redhead they were hassling long since fled. Sara snaps her bo staff into it's escrima sticks form so she can holster them. She's still giggling, but the laughter fades and Ava can't help it, she steps into her space, one leather-clad hand cupping her cheek.
Sara leans up, almost acting completely on instinct, and kisses her. Ava wants to deepen the act, about to use her tongue and tease Sara's mouth open with it, but the oh-so familiar flashing of red and blue accompanied by the screaming sirens meant they both had to pry themselves away from each other. The air between them is hot despite the frigid Starling City Autumnal winds biting at the night, tinged with something unsatisfied. A chuckle is nearly pulled from her throat at the annoyed expression on the slightly shorter vigilante's face. She couldn't say she didn't feel similar, even if she was better at hiding it.
"C'mon, you don't wanna get caught 'cause we were too busy making out, do you?" Ava asks, lingering laughter prominent in her tone. Sara's blue eyes flash with something that looks a lot like challenge, readable even with her domino mask across her face, but she instead just rolls those eyes, and starts scaling the fire escape attached to the wall of the alleyway they're in.
Ava tuts, watches Sara eagerly disappear from view over the lip of the roof, pulls the knife she had to plunge into the guy's chest as a last resort (he had her pinned), and follows a similar pattern of ascent her girlfriend had just used.
Damned cops and their poor timing.
(No offence, Detective Lance.)
When she gets to the roof, Sara is nowhere to be seen. Ava grins. She looks left, right. Still no Sara.
A race to the clocktower it is, then.