At last the beginning of my next work!
For those of you who read my ColdFlash week entry Vertigo /works/14325837, this is connected and basically the same universe, but I have made some changes and am starting from the beginning telling a lengthier version of their story that will cover some of what was shared in the oneshot and also go beyond with several other surprises in store for you.
Thank you to everyone who voted for this to my next fic!
Enjoy!
Len was never rash like this. Lisa was always telling him he should be more impulsive, but she probably hadn't meant by risking his life.
Not that Len was in danger! He'd be fine. The Flash had never harmed anyone before. Though maybe that was because no one had ever gotten in his way before…
Shaking that thought from his mind, Len raced down the block from his apartment toward the Tiffany's on the corner, turning down the back alley once he got there. Even a super-fast thief had to be smart, and The Flash's previous heists had always shown evidence of typical breaking and entering—through the back.
Maybe Len was too late, but just as he worried he'd missed his chance, the back door to the jewelry store burst open and a sparking blur skidded to a stop.
"Who the hell are you?" the figure materialized into a man, covered head to toe in black, holding an impressive-sized bag over his shoulder overflowing with loot.
Len was certain he should have come up with some sort of witty one-liner, but all he could think to do was aim his gun and fire.
XXXXX
The news had dubbed the incident from six months ago 'Vertigo' because in an instant the world had turned upside down. A third of the population had suddenly developed superpowers, all because a slightly abnormal solar flare had triggered previously dormant genetic markers in everyone across the globe.
Most of those triggered had minor abilities that could come in useful but were hardly a threat to others. The smaller population who had more pronounced abilities, however, could be very dangerous, and unfortunately, at least in Leonard Snart's city, they all seemed to want to cause chaos or take control like some rabid mass of supervillains.
The police could do next to nothing. The government couldn't step in because they were busy dealing with the same thing across the nation—and around the world. All anyone who was Powerless or Enhanced with minor abilities could do was hope to find a way to protect themselves against those who were Super.
Or that maybe, just maybe, a few Supers would turn out to be the heroes they needed.
So far, no such luck in Central City. Leonard—Len—did his best to contribute, being Powerless but hardly, well…powerless. As one of the premier engineers at STAR Labs, he had more patents than any of his peers, more money than he honestly knew what to do with, and his own floor at the Labs' to work on whatever he pleased.
Since Vertigo, he had dedicated most of his research to finding ways to stop Supers who wished the city harm, the first of which had been power dampening handcuffs for the police. That had led to the invention of Super-proof cells at Iron Heights, but both inventions assumed the police had already caught the bad guys. Catching them, stopping them, still proved next to impossible.
Which was why Len had been working on a more projectile version of his depowering technology. It was only a temporary block while the cuffs were on or when the Super was in their cell, but with a gun, he hoped to depower them for lengthier bursts, at least long enough for the police to get them into custody.
"Once again, Vixen escapes CCPD custody before the STAR Labs issued handcuffs could be secured," a newswoman reported, causing Len to look up at the TV on the wall. "Vixen, one of the few Supers whose identity is known as Mari McCabe, first appeared on the scene two weeks post-Vertigo after killing her sister and proceeding to break through a concrete wall to a bank vault and then flying to safety. Her abilities are said to be connected to harnessing the nature of animals. Police are at a loss for how to bring her to justice."
Vixen. They all had fancy names that they had either given themselves or that the media had dubbed them. Len thought it in poor taste and only encouraged them. He knew how the criminal mind worked.
He'd grown up in a bad neighborhood and probably would have turned out bad himself if his mother hadn't taken him and his sister Lisa in after his father went to prison. His mother, not Lisa's. His father had remarried, but when Lisa's mother passed away, Len's mother, Lorna, pushed for full custody. Lewis ending up in prison made it easy for her to win and then get custody of Lisa too, since she had no one else.
"Scientists say the solar flare at the start of Vertigo was brightest right over our city," the reporter continued.
"Too bad it created so much darkness, eh, Janet?" her counterpart said.
"Ooph, Gideon!" Len cried, startled at the appearance of his cat jumping onto his workstation to sprawl over his schematics as though they had been laid there just for her. "I need those, young lady." He tapped her pink nose pointedly.
Gideon chirped at him, unimpressed.
She was a basic short-hair, colloquially a Tuxedo Cat—though since her fur was Russian Blue gray, Len preferred to call her his little Suit Cat.
One of the benefits to being STAR Labs' best asset, besides having his own floor, was that he got to choose his staff—which was no one, and to be allowed to bring in his cat. It didn't bother him that most of his coworkers barely said two words to him each week. They only ever saw him when he wandered up to the other floors because he was out of coffee.
"Fine," Len said as Gideon stretched and blinked at him slowly, clearly having no intention of moving. "You're lucky I'm ready for a test run. Shall we give the gun a try?"
Gideon mewed lazily back at him.
"My thoughts exactly."
Len wished he'd had his gun finished earlier. He might have been able to get the prototype to Mick to use against Vixen before she caused more trouble.
Mick Rory was his oldest and dearest friend, and Captain of the CCPD. Mick was also the only Enhanced person Len knew, though Mick didn't think it very useful that his abilities had manifested as being able to regulate temperature in any condition.
He could walk out stark naked in a blizzard and be fine, or bundle in a parka in the Caribbean and not be bothered by the heat. Len had tried explaining to him on numerous occasions how remarkable that was, but Mick merely shrugged.
Leaving the Cortex for his testing grounds where he had set up several police-issue training cutouts with microscope slides of Super-positive DNA, Len's goal was for the gun to work on affected cells from as great a distance as possible. He also had multiple variants for how the cells manifested. Even though abilities came in all types, the basic DNA markers were the same.
Squaring himself a good 10 yards from the cutouts with safety goggles over his glasses, he took aim and fired the inaugural shot. The output of the somewhat sci-fi looking blaster was like ripples of heatwaves on a summer day, but it still gave an impressive kick and nearly threw him backwards. He laughed at the thrilling jolt and sprinted ahead to collect the slides.
Len had placed a microscope nearby and checked each slide as quickly as he could. As long as the slide had been within the blast radius, even if not centered, the cell reaction appeared to be the same, almost as though the Vertigo cells had frozen but without any sign of degradation. Len didn't want anyone hurt after all.
Then he watched the clock, checking every thirty seconds for when the cells would become active again. The center slides lasted the longest, ten whole minutes, plenty of time for police to act, while the outer ones slowly ticked down until they were closer to five minutes before reactivation. Even that would be helpful, and trained officers could be taught to aim more efficiently than Len.
"I did it, Gideon!" he called when he returned to the Cortex, gun held high.
Gideon's tail fwipped back and forth where she lay on the schematics, though she had the courtesy to open her eyes.
"And I have everything I need to build more in bulk and get these issued to the CCPD straight away. Mick will be so pleased. I'll let him have this one himself, though I think I'll have to tinker a bit at home tonight."
"This just in," another reporter's voice broke into his monologue, "while officials were preoccupied with the events surrounding Vixen, there has been another sighting of the Super called The Flash. Little is known about the thief who has been active since day one of Vertigo, but he is believed to have the ability of great speed. All anyone has ever seen is trails of lightning and the occasional blur of a tall, thin figure in black. To date, the thefts include…"
Len tuned out the list of The Flash's many exploits. "At least he's never killed anyone," he said—the only villainous Super who hadn't.
Gideon mewed again as he returned to his workstation.
"You're right, Gideon," Len stroked her head, "The Flash could be a she. Shall we take one more hour before heading home?"
Gideon purred agreement, though it may have been more for the scratches under her chin.
Len just needed five minutes to clear his head before he finished everything necessary to take the rest of his work home for the night. He could use those five minutes to start the next chapter of the eBook he'd been reading.
This one had a recent divorcee on hard times finding love with her burly neighbor. Len was an engineer by day; he couldn't help that on his breaks and off-hours he enjoyed cheesy, tawdry, smutty fiction. It didn't matter if it was two men or a man and woman either, as long as one of the men was young and rugged and powerful, preferably with a beard and take-charge attitude who could lift their partner without effort and ravage them against any nearby surface.
Like Ryder was currently doing to Sofia in the eBook pulled up on Len's computer. Hoisting her onto the kitchen counter and tipping her back as he kissed her hard and tore away her clothing.
Len wished someone would lift him like that. Kiss him like that. Touch him at all even remotely like that.
Just once.
The ring of the office phone made his breath catch at the interruption into his to be Lisa. She knew better than to try his cell phone during the work day, and no one else ever called down here.
"What are you doing tonight?" she asked before Len could even utter a hello.
"Working. Why?"
"You're always working."
"I'll have you know I had a breakthrough tonight that could make Mayor Jesse look very good for you."
Lisa was Deputy Mayor with grand plans for her future to make a real difference in Central City. Len couldn't have been prouder. Mayor Jesse was a good man too, though a little dull, which was why he needed Lisa to help him make more of a splash to the public. Being mayor during the Vertigo crisis was not helping his poll numbers.
"Fantastic," Lisa said, "I can't wait to hear all about it—when you join me as my date for a press event tonight."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"No."
"Lenny.
"I have vital work that needs to be completed."
"And what about seeing your sister?"
"I'll see you tomorrow for dinner with Mother. Mick will be there also."
"That's family night, not a social life. When was the last time you went on a date? You don't even go out for drinks with your coworkers."
Len glanced through the glass window at his coffee maker in the neighboring room. He was out, and he definitely needed a cup to go if he was going to be productive tonight, which meant getting a drink with coworkers somewhat differently but equally undesirable.
"Fraternizing is not necessary," he said as a familiar panic reared at the potential of interaction.
"You're practically a shut in."
"I am not a— I am doing important work. And people make me…wary."
She made a disappointed noise that stirred guilt in Len's stomach but not enough to change his mind. "I'm only letting you off the hook if you promise that someday soon I get to have some arm candy at a press event."
"I am hardly arm candy." Len chuckled in disbelief. He didn't fuss over his appearance the way she did. He kept his graying hair short mostly for ease's sake, wore glasses instead of bothering with contacts, and dressed—in Lisa's own words—like Mr. Rogers' nerdier neighbor.
"You do know that the only way to stop being a forty-year-old virgin is to have some confidence occasionally, right?"
"I—" Len felt his face flush hot. It wasn't as if he had zero sexual experience, just nothing complete. His anxiety over human contact wasn't helped by how terrible he was at it. Fantasy men were easier.
"It would be different if you weren't interested," Lisa said, "but I know you are. I've seen your browser history."
"That is none of your business," Len hissed into the phone as if needing to keep the conversation private from Gideon.
"Fine then, have a nice evening with your cat. Again," Lisa ended on an aptly timed tease.
Len knew she wouldn't let this go, but he decided to focus on having won the battle—sort of—even if the war still loomed. He just preferred the recharge of alone time, was that so terrible? People were exhausting. He loved his sister, his mother, Mick, but branching out got harder the older he got, with less of a stomach for disappointment, especially where romance was concerned. No real man would ever sweep him off his feet or pin him to a solid surface with a smoldering look. He wasn't the type to be lusted after.
Hanging up with Lisa, Len left Gideon on the schematics once more and made for the elevator. Brewing a whole pot of coffee would be wasteful and take too much time. Besides, he needed more grounds anyway. He could refill his cup and acquire a few bags from the upstairs lounge without running into anyone.
"Leonard." His boss—naturally—happened to be striding past just as the elevator doors opened, the President of STAR Labs, Leslie Jocoy. "What a pleasure. Coming to see me?" She was sweet and selfless and entirely too friendly. She also treated Len like a little brother at times, despite being a few years younger than him.
"Um, no actually. Just out of coffee." Len forced himself to step out of the elevator rather than let the doors close like his instincts demanded. "But I should have that prototype Anti-Vertigo gun completed by tonight for your review, and hopefully continue into rapid deployment."
"Excellent," she said in her mild English accent. "STAR Labs and Central City are in your debt again. Are you certain you don't want any press coverage—"
"No," Len spoke up quickly. What was it with the women in his life trying to get him in front of cameras and crowds? "I don't need any undue attention, thank you. That STAR Labs gets the credit for my inventions is enough for me."
"Well, the attention would hardly be undue," Lesley said, "but say no more. You enjoy your anonymity, dear. But do be careful with too much late afternoon caffeine. I'd shudder to think it keep you up at night. And get something on my calendar for tomorrow, will you?"
"Already on it." If Mick could attend as well, maybe Len would feel more at ease giving the presentation. Lesley liked to bring in gawkers.
Thankfully, she was on her way to a late meeting, so Len was able to make for the lounge—where several of his coworkers were gathered around the coffee machine. Urg.
Their animated conversation came to an abrupt pause at his entrance, and suddenly he was fifteen again with nowhere to sit at lunch time whenever Mick had a sick day.
"Hello, Leonard," said Hartley Rathaway, one of the few who actually tried to be cordial. The others had given up long ago.
Fellow engineers Axel Walker, Rosa Dillon, and Sam Scudder—all brilliant, even if Axel was young—and Head of Research and Development, Nora Darhk. Hartley wasn't much older than Axel, but he was lead engineer on several projects. They were all fantastic peers to be counted amongst.
"Hartley. Everyone." Len mustered a tight smile and continued to the coffee maker, causing the others to part like the Red Sea.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be friendly, or maybe even make friends, but he'd been so afraid of a new environment when he first started working at STAR Labs, he'd waited too long to try until it just became awkward and now everyone thought he hated them.
It was better that way anyway. Machines and cats would never judge him.
Well, Gideon did sometimes.
"As I was saying," Nora began as the others politely started to leave, "I think it would do everyone good to sign up for the symposium together. We could make a weekend of it, compare notes, have a few evenings out after panels."
"Leonard, were you considering attending the upcoming symposium at Kord Industries?" Hartley asked, not retreating with the others to Len's dismay. "I hear they're unveiling several new technologies around Vertigo cell manipulation. Perhaps you could learn something useful for your own research."
"Oh I…hadn't considered that. I'll have to look into it." Len had no intention of attending anything guaranteed to have so many people.
"You could join the rest of us," Hartley tried again, lingering, alone with Len now and looking so earnest.
"I wouldn't want to impose. I don't even know if I'm available those dates."
"Well, how about I forward you the info and you can let me know?"
"That…would be all right, I suppose." Len hated to lie but he didn't want to see disappointment stare back at him either.
Of course now what was he supposed to say to continue the conversation when Hartley smiled and didn't immediately leave? Should he small-talk? Was Hartley expecting him to say something? Maybe Len should attempt a benign compliment, like…Hartley's glasses. They were nice. Similar to Len's but equally becoming.
Although then Hartley might think Len was hitting on him, and that would be a disaster. Len knew from overheard gossip that Hartley had been dating a man—at some point, maybe it was months ago—and while Len didn't date and Hartley was not his type, it might be common knowledge that he was also gay.
Crap, now the pause had stretched too long. Len was overthinking this.
Social life, conversation, normalcy. Surely, Hartley wouldn't think it too odd if he—
"I—"
"Hartley! Were you coming?" Axel peeked his head in, and Hartley startled, glancing over with what Len decided must be relief that he'd been saved.
"I'll forward you those details. Talk to you soon, Leonard," he said before hurrying away.
Len sighed. He had his coffee. He just needed to grab those few bag of grounds and he could escape, but instead, he found himself shuffling to the door and craning his ears for the hushed conversation the group outside began as soon as Hartley joined them.
"Why do you waste your time?" Rosa asked.
"It's not a waste of time to be nice."
"First I've seen him down here in months," Sam said, "and always to poach our coffee."
"It's company coffee," Hartley said.
"Can't he keep enough down on his own floor?" Rosa snickered.
"You can't complain that he has his own floor given his results."
"Oh, Snart's a genius, no doubt," Nora said, "deserves everything he gets. Frankly, I'm glad he has the basement to himself."
"Yeah, saves us from the awkward silences. He must think us all rather beneath him," Rosa mimicked some haughty voice intended to mock Len.
That was usually what people thought of him, and he didn't feel up to correcting them as their voices drifted too far away to overhear.
Len grabbed his bags of coffee and was grateful he made it back to the elevator without encountering anyone else. He knew he could never make friends let alone have a romance without doing something about it, getting to know people, trying, but like with his inventions that he never used himself, it was easier to stay in the shadows and live vicariously through other people.
So maybe Len had turned to technology instead of crime when he was younger and allowed himself to hide away in the cold comfort of it. He wanted to help people so no one would ever have to live like he had—hungry, afraid, and helpless. But deep down, he also wanted to be part of the adventure, any adventure, and prove he could step into the light without getting burned.
He only finished half his new cup of coffee before the pit in his stomach refused to go away and he decided to head out. The elevator went down one more floor to the garage where Len's parking spot was right beside it, allowing him to avoid meeting anyone there either. With Gideon safely in her carrier, and the gun and Len's needed equipment packed in the trunk, he left STAR Labs behind.
Home was a loft apartment almost as large as his floor at work. Not extravagantly decorated, just spacious for his experiments and penchant for clutter. He fed Gideon, ate dinner, enjoyed a little music and the calm of solitude, then turned on the news for background noise as he began his tinkering to be sure the gun would be in top form for review tomorrow.
He'd texted Mick after snagging a time on Lesley's calendar. He could attend. The CCPD loved that Mick had an in with STAR Labs and got first crack at all Len's inventions.
The news had switched to live footage of a reporter in front of City Hall discussing upcoming Vertigo-related legislation. Supers were being asked to come forward willingly for evaluation, while debates raged on whether or not Gifted people should have to register their abilities as well.
Len had never been so grateful to be Powerless, but he felt for those affected by Vertigo who just wanted to live normal lives.
"The Mayor's press event, going on now, could be—" the reporter cut off abruptly, drawing Len's attention, and he caught the tail end of a flash of yellow lightning zipping by in the background.
The Flash.
"Did you see that?" the reporter cried in excitement. "A live Flash sighting right here on Channel 9! Let's hope the city's most notorious thief isn't taking advantage of the press event the same way he did Vixen's appearance earlier today."
The press event. Lisa's press event that she'd wanted Len to attend. She'd probably thought she could convince him because he didn't live far from City Hall. In fact, the direction Flash had been headed would be toward Len's building—and the jewelry store at the end of the block that fit his MO to a T, especially with the diversion of a large event keeping everyone busy.
Except Len, who knew exactly where Flash was headed and had the only tool that could stop him—and catch him—once and for all.
Gideon rubbed against his legs.
"Am I crazy if I bolt for the jewelry store to catch him myself?"
Gideon mewed plaintively.
"You're right. Definitely crazy." But then, maybe crazy was taking advice from his cat.
Snatching the gun and goggles from his worktable, Len ran for the door before he could change his mind, grabbing the parka he hadn't put away from winter yet at the last second to have something to cover him up.
Technically, he was about to play vigilante, but only long enough to catch The Flash. He texted Mick that he was certain of where Flash was headed and to send patrols immediately, though he left out that he was headed there himself. Mick would trust him and do as asked.
Which was how Len had ended up in a back alley, firing his gun at a live Super.
XXXXX
The same rippling waves as Len's test run erupted from the end of the gun, nearly sending The Flash careening into the door he'd just exited.
"Police are on their way!" Len shouted when Flash crumbled, trying to make his voice sound commanding. He hoped he looked imposing too, mostly covered in the parka with the hood up to hide his face—though the fur might counteract the effect he'd been going for, but the goggles were something, maybe, at least better with his glasses tucked in his pocket. "All I need to do is keep you occupied until they arrive!"
Completely against Len's expectations, laughter tittered up from the ground.
"Oh you are good," a teasing and very clearly male voice said, before the alley turned upside down and Len was on his back, being held to the pavement with The Flash straddling his hips. "That actually hurt a little, but keeping me 'occupied' is harder than you think."
It didn't work. Why didn't it work? It had been successful in all of Len's tests!
The black mask above him, sleek and simple without obvious placement for eyes, scanned down Len's body. "Not a cop yourself, huh? Interesting."
Len was in so much trouble. He never should have risked doing this without additional field testing on real Supers, especially considering The Flash was removing him of his goggles and pushing the hood from his head.
"Not bad beneath the eyewear either. You wanna try this position under better circumstances someday, handsome, just say the word."
What an insolent… Was he mocking Len?
The gun was still in his hands, so Len fired, and even though it shot off somewhere into the alley to hit the trash bin, it startled Flash enough that he turned to look, giving Len the chance to reach up and rip the mask from his head. When the man glanced back in shock and strangely pleased disbelief, Len finally saw his face.
Len's vision was blurry without his glasses, but he still wasn't prepared for how attractive Flash was, even if his body had already seemed pleasing in the tight-fitting bodysuit. Brunette hair and beard, hazel eyes, model-perfect features, just lovely and exactly how Len had been picturing Ryder from his eBook.
Other than how young he looked.
"You're just some kid."
"I look young for my age," Flash said with a scowl.
"Which is what, nineteen? I'm surprised you can grow a beard."
"Ooo that's cold," Flash hissed, smile returning but sharp now, still holding Len in place—also like Ryder, and Len really needed to stop comparing them. "Cold like your gun. Sent a chill right through me, but that wasn't what you intended, was it? Sorry to disappoint, but trust me, baby, I'm the perfect age for lasting stamina if you ever wanna find out." He winked at Len, then zipped to his feet with a kick of lightning and already had the mask back in place. "Better luck next time."
He was gone in a blink, barely slowed by Len's gun, and leaving him to realize that sirens were approaching and being found by the police would not look good for him, especially when he hadn't told Mick the full truth.
Quickly, Len made scarce back to his apartment.
The gun hadn't worked. But it should have worked. Maybe it was just The Flash, unique somehow with his speed abilities than any other Super.
Flash had called him cold, but Len couldn't deny being hot under the collar after the encounter, which he knew was terribly improper, but he didn't often have anyone on top of him like that. He'd never had anyone on top of him like that.
You were right about Flash, he did hit that Tiffany's, but he got away, Mick texted him later.
You'll get him next time, Len replied, still feeling guilty for lying.
He sat in his armchair in the parka with his goggles around his neck and glasses back in place, with Gideon eating her treat of wet food for the night on the floor beside him. Normally, when she finished, she hopped up into Len's lap or headed for the bedroom to snuggle in before he joined her. Tonight, she sat at his feet and stared.
"Don't look at me like that. It wasn't that reckless of a decision. I'm perfectly fine."
She mewed.
"His looks are beside the point. Though with the right triangulation of his past thefts, various sightings, lightning trails, and a face to use now, I could probably determine his point of origin by the end of the week."
She mewed again.
"I'll tell Mick. Eventually. But I can't very well do that until I figure out why the gun didn't work on him, now, can I?"
Her tail fwipped back and forth a few moments, then she got up and walked out of the room.
"What do you know?" he called after her. "I'm just planning on doing my civic duty."
It had nothing to do with the thrill that had come with being spontaneous for once.
Or the handsome face under The Flash's mask.
TBC...