Summary: Just once, Harrison would like his team of highly trained, adult agents to act like it.


[]


Operation Tin Roof

"Harry, just tell me where he is."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Come on. Please?"

"Fine."

"Really?!"

"No."

"Damnit, Harry, he's my husband." Cisco's angry scowl faltering into a pleased smirk, which looked all the more ridiculous with the bulge in his cheek and the stick of his Blow Pop hanging out the side of his mouth. "I love saying that. My husband. I have a husband. I married him. He's mine." The scowled returned with force. "Now tell me where he is. I deserve to know where you sent him."

Harrison tapped his pencil on the desk forebodingly. "There are a great many things you deserve, Ramon. You deserve to be in lab twenty three cleaning up the mess your latest invention caused."

"Yeah, I honestly didn't think that one would explode. Like, for real this time."

"You deserve to be reported to HR and accept the consequences for what I caught you doing on my desk last week."

"Yeah, but then everyone would know what you look like when you eat Cherry Garcia ice cream." Cisco pulled the Blow Pop from his mouth and pointed it at Harrison. "Disturbingly pornographic. I seriously regret that hidden camera."

"As well you should. You're lucky that's the only thing you saw." The shudder that ran through Cisco was enough to convince Harrison that his protégé had most likely seen much more. "However, back to the topic at hand – you deserve to pay for the blood pressure medication I'm now taking thanks to my daughter's interest in my line of work."

"She's crazy good, though. So much raw talent."

"Raw talent won't keep her alive in the field and it won't keep Agent Cat Grant from poaching her."

Cisco rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "There are worse things. Agent Grant taught Barry everything he knows."

"Believe it or not, the idea that my daughter could end up as reckless and head strong as your husband, does not make me feel better."

"Whatever. Look, are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Your capacity to understand simple one worded answers is astounding."

"Is that a yes?"

"No!"

"Fine!" Cisco stood up and moved around the back of his chair, leaning over it with his hands on the frame. "I'll just have to find out on my own."

Harrison refrained from wishing him good luck as he stormed out the door.


[]


So, yeah, he'd tried doing this the nice way – or, well, the really annoying way – but if Harry wasn't willing to play along, Cisco had other avenues he could explore and he wasn't above using them. Unfortunately, Linda caught him trying to hack the system and while she was usually a happy ray of sunshine in a dark world of espionage, she was also really, really scary. With that option closed to him, he went to the next most reliable source.

"Hartley, you have a minute?"

"No."

"But you don't even know what I want!"

"You want me to tell you where Supervisory Agent Wells sent your little husband." He looked up from his work station with an entirely blank expression. "He phoned ahead and I value my job too much to tell you anything."

Which meant… "So you do know?"

Hartley's eyes widened for a split second which was enough to tell Cisco that he'd been caught, despite his next words being. "No. Why would I know? I'm tech."

"And as tech, you'd need to know about the mission to make sure he had all the appropriate gear." Cisco sat on the desk and leaned in. "Hartley, come on, you can tell me."

Hartley stared back, unimpressed. "You'll have to do better than that, Cisco. I know you."

"And I know you." Cisco sat up, giving a shiver. "Is it cold in here or is it just me?"

Hartley narrowed his eyes scathingly. "You wouldn't. You can't possibly…"

"Maybe you should turn up the heat."

They stared off for a few minutes, but eventually Hartley cursed under his breath and opened his draw, pulling out a file. "He's in Columbia."

"What the hell is he doing in Columbia?"

Hartley waited until Cisco took the file before answering. "Infiltrating the house of an up and coming drug lord. He's not anything important yet, but he supposedly has a database that's more than worth the effort."

"How much more?"

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars' worth – and that's just Barry's share."

Cisco's eyebrows shot up. "Damn."

"I know. I almost offered to take the mission."

"But aren't drug lords more Star City's speed? Couldn't Felicity just do a hack job?"

"He prefers hard copies to digital and they don't have any male agents young and pretty enough to entice this particular drug lord."

"Excuse me?!" Cisco opened the file and did a quick scan over the details, stopping when he came to a picture of a Hispanic man in his late thirties, with a chiseled jaw and an eight pack standing next to a pool in a speedo. "Oh, hell no. Hartley, call the airport and tell them Harry needs the jet."

"I'm not your errand boy."

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sudden chill."

"I hate you."

"But your calling."

Hartley rolled his eyes. "Go, they'll have it ready."

Cisco bounced out the door, but stopped a few feet away; listening to make sure Hartley was actually calling the airport and not ratting him out to Harry.

"Hey, we need to talk. … No, but Cisco came uncomfortably close. … He thinks I'm in a threesome with Snart and Rory. … No, you can not arrange that. … Look, I'm at work, can you come over tonight? … See you then."

Huh, so Hartley wasn't in it with Captain Cold and Heatwave. Then what had he been doing meeting with them behind Jitters last month? He also said Cisco was 'uncomfortable close' which meant it was someone connected to them, but who?

"Captain Hunter, this is Hartley Rathaway with S.T.A.R. Labs, we need wheels up to Columbia in thirty for Francisco Ramon. Notify TSA, verification…" Hartley sighed deeply and with great suffering before dead panning, "I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle here is my spout. When I get all steamed up here me shout. Tip me over and pour me out. Don't… stop laughing. … I'm not singing it. … You know I don't get to choose my verification codes. … Just have the plane ready."

Cisco stayed in place, giving it a few more seconds. Just as he was about to sneak off, Hartley stuck his head out of his lab. "I'm done. You can go now."

"You knew I was here?"

"Of course I knew, I was a fully trained spy before you ever stepped foot in S.T.A.R. Labs. You're not that good."

"Oh, I'm that good. Why else would you call whoever it is you're sleeping with?"

"Because I don't want you assuming I'm in the middle of a Cold-Wave sandwich and, in case you didn't notice, I said nothing to give away the identity of my lover."

"I know you're meeting him tonight."

"Yes, when you'll be safely in Columbia, staging an entirely unnecessary rescue for your husband and no one here is willing to take sides in our little feud."

"… Maldita sea! Fine, but I will find out."

Hartley smirked. "Adios, Cisquito."


[]


He would find out, but first, he had to rescue his husband.

Cisco looked out over the top of the roof he was standing on and over the expanse of lush greenery and the distant shadows of mountains and blue water.

Colombia was beautiful – absolutely breathtaking.

Well, minus the drug lords with their wash board abs that lounged around crystal clear pools wearing speedoes so everyone could see just how big their… no, focus. He couldn't think about that right now.

He looked down at the patrol of armed gunmen guarding the perimeter of the mansion he had just finished scaling the southerly wall of.

Right, so, back to that first thought. Columbia was beautiful, but it also had a lot of crime – statistically speaking. Of course, there were always risks, no matter where you lived. California had earthquakes; Kansas had tornados; Florida had Hurricanes; Detroit had… Detroit; and Colombia had the occasional drug lord.

Cisco tethered his harness to the metal rail lining the edge of the roof and waited for the guards to round the corner before standing up to test the hold. Satisfied that he wouldn't plummet fifty plus feet to his death, he swung his legs over the railing and lowered himself slowly to the balcony below him.

And, really, drug lords weren't that big of a deal. At least he could shoot a drug lord. A gun wouldn't do a whole lot of good against a rock slide in Colorado and Cisco was kind of allergic to being crushed to death. It just didn't agree with him.

He dropped softly onto the landing and crouched, waiting to make sure he hadn't been noticed, because that would suck. His patience was greeted with silence and after a minute, he breathed easy.

So far so good.

Since getting married, Barry and him been discussing buying a vacation home. It was hard in their line of work to really unwind. Having a retreat would be nice and between the two of them, they could get something nice in a foreign country that could double as a safe house or a place to retire sometime in the very far future.

Except Barry kept talking about Peru – they could afford a good amount of land in the hills, it would be quiet, secluded, safe, and he'd seen an International House Hunter's episode about a couple of guys that started a cheese farm up there and he had this crazy ass idea that they could buy goats and sheep and make a hobby of it.

Cisco didn't want to crush Barry's dreams, but he also didn't want to retire to a remote mountain so far from any form of civilization that their family would have to rent an alpaca to visit them. Colombia had plenty of beaches and villas, or, if Barry really wanted, they could look into a private island off the coast – as long as it had electricity, internet, and plumbing, those were his three non-negotiables.

Below him, another set of guards made their pass and as soon as they were around the corner, Cisco made the transition from one balcony to the next and then the next until he was situated on the one he wanted, at the entrance to the master suite of one Santiago Gomez.

It wasn't that Cisco didn't trust Barry, there was no one he trusted more, but he didn't trust Harry and he sure as hell didn't trust some suave Columbian with expensive taste not to get handsy with his fiancé, especially if things went south and Barry was exposed and if that happened, there wasn't a rock Santiago Gomez could crawl under that Cisco wouldn't find. So, really, he was doing them all a favor.

Or maybe not, because when he peered into the room, he saw Barry laid out on his stomach, blankets pooled around his waist, exposing his naked back. Next to him, Santiago's bare ass was on top of the covers. And Cisco… Cisco was pretty chill. It was what made him so good at his job. He focused on the goal and didn't let himself get worked up or anxious or angry and sometimes the job called for them to get a little down and dirty. Cisco wasn't above that, or, well, he hadn't been, but there was a difference between intellectually knowing it could happen and seeing his Barry in bed with another man.

Hell. Fucking. No.

Cisco threw open the door and pulled the gun out of his back pocket, prepared to cap Santiago and ask questions later, but before he could pull the trigger, Barry sat up, his own gun in the hand that had been tucked under the pillow. They both froze, eyes wide with shock.

Barry recovered first. "Cisco? What are you doing here?!"

"Rescuing you." Cisco took his finger off the trigger.

"Who said I needed rescuing?"

"No one?"

"I'm…" Barry dropped his gun arm, "…really confused."

Cisco glanced at Santiago, who was still sacked out behind Barry. "Why isn't he waking up?"

"I drugged him." Barry sat up and Cisco immediately noted the top of his black jeans low on his hips. "Cisco, what's going on?"

Slowly, Cisco lowered his gun. "So, you didn't sleep with him?"

"No!" Barry looked behind him at Santiago and threw the blankets back to cover him. "Why would you think that?"

"'Cause… Hartley said?" Which sounded like a poor excuse now that he heard it out loud.

"What exactly did Hartley say?"

"That they sent you in because you were his type."

"Okay, first of all, Hartley is, in your words, a dick; second, I don't do that – not that I've never had sex during a mission, but there is a huge difference between doing it while your on a mission and doing it for a mission; and third," Barry got off the bed and came over to him, staring down with an expression somewhere between scolding and concerned, "the fact that it sounds like you have…?"

"What? No, not… since we got together."

"Yeah, that is not okay." Barry's hands took either side of his face, making sure he had Cisco's full attention. "You, Cisco Ramon-Allen, are worth more than that."

And, damnit, why did Barry have to go and use his hyphenated name like that and why did he have to be so damn romantic? Cisco was supposed to be the one defending Barry's honor, not the other way around. "Not fair."

"Not fair is what I'm about to do in Santiago's bathroom. Or, more precisely, what I'm gonna do to you in it." Barry's hands dropped down to Cisco's ass, squeezing suggestively.

Now that was more like it. "Yeah, and what's that?"

"Every filthy, dirty thing Santiago said he wanted to do to me."

"I'm sorry, are you trying to make me jealous?"

Barry grinned "You're cute when you're jealous."

"Oh I'll show you cute."

"Yeah?"

"Get your ass in there."


[]


"And that is how we got caught by Santiago's men and had to shoot our way out and inadvertently blew up half the mansion in the process."

"Because you couldn't keep it in your pants long enough to get the information and get out?"

"No. Because you wouldn't tell me where my husband was so I had to go behind your back, which meant I was going in blind. This is on you."

"This isn't on me."

"Then who is it on?"

"Hartley – for telling you where to find your husband."

"I can live with that."

"Hm. Speaking of Hartley, what exactly made you think he was having an elicit affair with Captain Cold and Heatwave?"

"I followed him to the coffee shop on my day off and caught him meeting with them in an alleyway."

"You followed Hartley on your day off? Does Allen know about this?"

"He encourages my hobbies. Besides, he was at the precinct and I was bored."

"He had no idea, did he?"

"That is beside the point. The point is, I was wrong about the unholy polyamorous love triangle, but close enough that he gave me the information I wanted and angry enough at you for changing his verification code that he didn't rat me out, which makes this whole thing his fault."

"I didn't change his verification code."

"Well, someone did and that little teapot was not happy about it."

Teapot? What…? Oh, for the love of… "Linda!"

She ducked her head in. "Yes?"

"Did you change Hartley's verification code?"

Linda raised her eyebrows and stood straight in the doorway, pressing her fist to her hip. "You asked me to handle the verification codes. I handled them."

"What did you do?"

She lifted her free hand up to rest next to her head and sang softly, "I'm a little tea pot short and stout."

Cisco chimed in gleefully, "Here is my handle, here is my spout. There's a reason they call him the Pied Piper."

Harrison dropped his head to the desk and took several deep breathes before looking up to Linda. "Why?"

She smiled contentedly and whispered back, "Because I can."

Cisco nodded sagely. "You really shouldn't give her power you don't want her to abuse."

She pointed a finger at Cisco with a wink. "True that."

He winked back and Harrison finally gave in to the urge to throw his pencil across the room, which Linda dodged with the ease of someone who'd had a great many objects thrown at her over the years. She ducked back in long enough to say, "Rude!" before storming off.

Cisco chuckled. "Anyway, we got the entire database before the mansion went kaboom, so, mission complete and, bonus, Barry and I decided to buy a small island. I know traditionally, agents retire out of the country, but we're thinking somewhere off the coast of North Carolina."

"Don't change the subject. You can't keep interfering with Barry's missions. This is why we don't permit inter-agent dating."

"Speaking of, did you hear Caitlin and Jay are coming up on their first Bangiversary?"

"Yes, I also heard Snow threaten to cut off his balls if he ever called it that again, which would be doing us all a favor, but that threat quickly turned into a discussion about whether they wanted children in the future, so I doubt it will come to fruition. Stop trying to change the subject. Allen is more than capable of running missions by himself."

Cisco raised his eyebrows with a grin. "I think we're missing what's really important."

"And what would that be?"

"Who the hell is Hartley sleeping with?"

"Go."

"You sure? I could do this for hours."

"Get out and send in Agent Allen."

"Don't you mean, Agent Allen-Ramon?"

"What you call yourselves in your free time is your business. However, I refuse to change your official Agent monikers. The paperwork alone."

"Spoil sport."

"Out."

"Fine, but you should know, Barry is not happy about the whole 'me sleeping with other people as part of a mission' thing."

"Did you tell him it was your choice? That I, in fact, explicitly instructed you not to, but you decided Lisa Snart was 'too smoking hot to pass that up'?''

"Yeah, no, I told him, but I still think he's gonna punch you in the face. Also, he may or may not hunt down Lisa Snart. Who knew Barry could be so possessive?"

"Ramon…"

"You know, I've never had anyone so concerned about my honor. It's kinda nice. Although, you know, to be fair, I wasn't aware I had any, on account of my being a spy for hire and everything."

"I can't have Allen causing an incident with the Snarts, and by association, the entire Rogues' team, not to mention my brother, because you decided to get frisky with the enemy. Against my orders."

"Oh, I just had an idea!"

"It had better be about how to stop your husband."

"God, no, he is so hot right now. It's Hartley, he's gotta be sleeping with one of the Rogues."

Harrison's eye twitched dangerously.

"Am I right?"

Breathe in. Breathe out. Just like his therapist had told him to do when he was feeling homicidal.

"Come on, gimme something. I know you. You have files on all of us, there's no way you don't at least have a clue."

"I will shoot you."

"And then Barry shoots you, and Hartley shoots Barry, and Caitlin shoots Hartley and that's how inter-agency wars get started."

Without breaking eye contact, Harrison pulled his gun out of his drawer and aimed it at Cisco, who got up and backed out slowly. "Okay, that was too far. Got it. I'll just… go get Barry."

He paused in the doorway, "Please don't shoot him?"

Harrison fired the gun, hitting the wall a foot to the left of Cisco's thigh and there was no small amount of satisfaction in the way the boy scrambled in his rush to run. That satisfaction, however, was quickly diminished by Linda, who stormed in after.

"What the hell?!" She looked from him to the hole in the wall and back. "Really? Again? Do you have any idea how much paperwork I have to fill out every time to shoot at one of us? This," she gestured emphatically at the hole in the wall, "is why I sent you to that therapist."

"You sent me to the therapist because I threatened to lock my daughter in a luxuriously appointed cell until such time as she gave up the idea of joining the agency."

"That too!" Linda stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Harrison sighed, putting the gun back in his drawer. She was probably right. Locking his daughter up had been a bad idea and considering everything she did for him, Linda didn't deserve the paperwork that came with shooting at his agents, no matter how annoying they were being.

He'd have to make it up to her later, but first, he had to convince Barry Allen not to start an incident, especially one that could potentially involve his brother, because those never ended well.