A/N: So, this happens sometimes. You get waaaaaaaaaay behind with your wips and when time and inspiration finally strike it'so in a completely different fandom. Fear not fans of my other works, they will be finished eventually but for now this is the fic that'stung begging me to write it.

CHAPTER ONE

"Don't you ever get tired of arresting hookers Detective Snart?" Barry asked, leaning back in his chair and staring across the desk at the cop. He was beginning to feel fidgety. It felt like he'd been sitting here for hours and the fact that after so many arrests the cop didn't need to ask his details anymore didn't help. The silence dragged on and on.

Len looked up from the form he was filling out and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't you ever get tired of being arrested, Mr Allen?" He asked. Barry sniffed loudly but otherwise remained silent. "That's the third time this month and there's still a week left to go."

"I'm tired of your condescending face and your disapproving looks Detective, that's what I'm tired of." Barry griped, pissy but not really mad yet.

"So find yourself a proper job and you'll never have to see either of them again."

Barry's brow furrowed and his nostrils flared slightly indicating an emerging annoyance with the detective.

"What I do IS a proper job." He said, bristling a little like he often did when the detective called him out on something. "World's oldest profession you know."

"And most dangerous."

For a moment the two men stared at one another then Barry threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Oh, so you're worried for my safety Detective. And here I thought the reason you kept dragging me in here was because you had the hots for me."

Len snorted. Yeah right. He'd given up trying to pursue a relationship a long time ago and he had absolutely no interest in meaningless sex, with anyone let alone an obnoxious hooker, no matter how pretty said hooker was. And Barry Allen really was VERY pretty. The truth was, whether the kid believed it or not, Len did worry about him. He reminded him a lot of himself when he was Barry's age, smart and stubborn and determined to prove that he didn't need anyone else, that he was just fine on his own. The difference was that Len had had his sister Lisa to teach him that no one was just fine on their own. Barry, as far as Len could tell, had no one.

"Think what you like kid, but the fact is, if you don't find yourself another line of work you're gonna end up dead in a dumpster somewhere and I won't be looking at you across this desk, I'll be looking at you on a slab in the morgue."

Barry glared hard at the detective, angry now in a way he hadn't been before.

"I'm not a kid." He snapped. "And I can take care of myself."

"Well, I hope you're right k... Barry." Len said, catching himself just in time. He had nothing to gain by antagonising the other man further. He signed off on the bottom of his paperwork, put down his pen and stood with a small sigh of relief. "But for tonight taking care of you is the job of the CCPD. Come on, I'll take you down to the cells."

Barry stood up, still glaring, and when Detective Snart's hand came up to cup his elbow, he jerked his arm away almost violently.

"Don't bother. I know the way."

Lisa Snart greeted her brother at the door of their shared apartment with a bright smile but it fell away quickly when she saw how tired he looked.

"Oh. Rough day?" She asked.

"No rougher than usual. Just long." He shrugged off his parka and hung it on a hook next to Lisa's leather bike jacket and strode across the floor to the couch and plopped down in it. "Do I smell coffee?"

"I just making a fresh pot. I gather you want one."

"Please."

As Lisa disappeared into the kitchen, Len reached into his briefcase and took out the file he'd pulled earlier. Bartholomew Henry Allen, born 1989. Len knew enough about him to fill out any paperwork but he really didn't know anything about his background, about the things that had happened in his life that had lead him to where he was now and he thought if he knew more he might have a better chance of helping him. He started to read.

When Lisa returned five minutes later with coffee and a sandwich he had the contents of the file spread across his lap and he'd learned that Barry's mother had been killed when he was eleven and his father had been convicted of her murder. Christ, no wonder the guy was messed up. He'd been fostered soon after by Joseph and Francine West but he'd never settled and had been a frequent runaway. His first arrest for soliciting had been when he was seventeen. Len wondered if his first time with a john had been his first time proper. The thought made him feel sick. Lisa set the mug and the plate down on the side table and leaned over the back of the couch, peering over her brother's shoulder at a photo of a young man.

"Ooh. He's kinda cute, who is he?"

Len slammed the file shut and glared, as best he could from this angle, at his sister.

"Do you mind Sis? This is supposed to be confidential."

"Pffft. You shouldn't bring your work home with you if you don't want me to peek. So, who is he?"

"Just a hooker I arrested today."

"Just a hooker? Lenny, you've arrested a lot of hookers, it's your job, but you've never brought home any of their files before. What's different about this one?" She walked around the couch and flopped down beside him.

Len shrugged.

"I don't know. He had a rough childhood." He paused briefly. "Mom dead, dad in jail, foster system didn't work for him and I guess... I guess I see myself in him and if things had been different I might've have taken the same route you know? But I had you to look out for, to keep me right. Barry's all alone."

"Oh Lenny." She said, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek before standing up. "He's not alone. He has you."

Watching his sister walk back into the kitchen he wished someone would explain that to Barry Allen because he felt like he was banging his head against a brick wall.

It was late next morning by the time Barry was released but at least Detective Snart's shift hadn't started yet so he managed to escape the building without another lecture about his poor career choice. What was the guy's problem anyway and where did he get off telling Barry what he could do with his own body? Maybe he was jealous or something, he probably hadn't gotten laid in forever.

When he finally arrived back at his apartment it was almost midday and his flatmate Cisco was just waking up.

"Hey, you're back." He yawned, shuffling through the living room in a pair of Green Arrow pyjama pants and rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. "I was worried when I woke up and you were still gone." In their line of work it wasn't uncommon to be gone all night so even though there was always some underlying concern any serious worries didn't usually set in till late. "Where ya been?

Barry huffed and mumbled under his breath and then said...

"Guess."

A broad grin spread across Cisco's face and his brown eyes began to twinkle with amusement.

"You got arrested by Hot Cop again right?" Cisco had only met Detective Snart once a few months back when he and Barry had been arrested together but he remembered the broad shoulders, smouldering gaze and salt and pepper hair very clearly.

"Urrgghh." Barry shuddered. "Will you please stop calling him that."

"Why? He IS hot. I'd definitely give him a freebie if I thought he was interested."

Barry shuddered again.

"You're a sick puppy Cisco Ramon." He scolded but he couldn't keep a small smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed." He said, heading towards the bathroom and brushing past his friend on the way.

"Hey." Cisco called after him. He heard him as he turned on the hot water. "Maybe that's what he's waiting for, a freebie. You should blow the guy next time and see if he eases up on ya."

"If that's what he's after he's gonna be waiting a very long time." Barry called back as he stepped into the shower. And it was the hot water, not Cisco's suggestion that he sucked Snart's dick that made his skin turn pink.

Tbc