Author's Note: The pause in this story was due to a promotion/exhaustion/and a muse on strike. I am honestly having a great time again, and really hope ya'll enjoy. Please share any feedback. Let me know whatcha like, and what you feel is off.
Chapter Six
"Mick." Bellowing his partners name as he breezed through their newly acquired residence, Leonard tossed his jacket at the base of the stairs and kept on walking. The foreclosure had been Lisa's brilliant find, and with the right financial incentive, the geeky, sexually deprived banker in charge of getting it back on the market was turning a blind eye.
"What?" The large man bellowed back from what sounded like the direction of the kitchen.
"Change of plans." Striding into the kitchen, not at all surprised his partner had a mouthful of what appeared to be a pastrami on rye, Leonard wondered at his buddy's ability to eat twenty-four seven. Perhaps on second thought, it would be even more odd if Mick wasn't eating.
Placing his hands down flat onto the counter Leonard leaned forward and frowned, contemplating how to explain the current predicament. His partner wasn't going to like having their holiday plans diverted. Mick would especially hate that their plans were being destroyed over something he wouldn't understand, like the burning need to eradicate a sense of obligation.
"Change?" Nearly slam dunking his snack down on a plate in agitation, Mick's face scrunched, predictably annoyed. "No. No change. My bags are packed Snart. You promised me bunnies."
"Yeah. Bunnies are nice." Leonard sighed in frustration. "And buddy I know we really deserve the bunnies. But I've got a little job to do."
"What about what you said? About Christmas time being the worst time to do a job?"
Stunned that his friend had retained that little bit of information, Leonard gave a curt nod. "I still stand by that. Too many witnesses, too many extra guards, too much crazy to deal with."
"Does this job have anything to do with that pretty little ginger from the other day?" Now that was not something Leonard had anticipated.
Trying not to smile, Leonard huffed. "I wouldn't say pretty."
"Yeah she was." Picking his sandwich back up, Mick took a huge bite, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Plus, the rack on her."
Gritting his teeth when Mick let out a long whistle, Leonard reminded himself to remain calm. "This job is more about repaying of a debt."
"What debt?" Narrowing his eyes, Mick stopped chewing.
"The little matter of saving my life."
Shrugging his beefy shoulders, Mick frowned. "It's not like you asked her to do it."
"No." Leonard drawled. "Doesn't mean I didn't appreciate it."
"Let me get this straight. We're missing out on ski bunnies, so we can do a job, for a dame you don't even think is pretty, because you don't want to owe someone something." Not looking too pleased, Mick pushed his sandwich across the counter. "Do I get to burn something down?"
"It's not that kind of job."
"Do I get to hurt someone"
"Not that kind of job." Leonard spoke slowly.
"What will I be doing?" Mick snapped.
"Still working out the details." Knowing his old pal was at the end of his rope, Leonard pushed away from the counter. "I need to pack a bag or two."
"Why?" Confusion was written all over Mick's face.
"I'll be spending some time at my fake girlfriend's house." Leonard tossed over his shoulder as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
"The pretty ginger?"
"Yes Mick." Leonard replied as he reached the base of the steps and smirked. "The very pretty ginger."
"Rise and shine, my precious little dumpling." Nudging the edge of the bed with the sole of his boot, Leonard grinned when a painful groan came from under a mountain of pillows.
Out in the living room was a pile of his luggage. Technically not his personal luggage, but luggage he'd found at the house he, Mick, and Lisa were squatting in. There was enough clothing to see him through the next couple of weeks. Odds and ends for a few specific day trips he had planned for additional surveillance and pre-set up. Then there were a few must have gadgets; tools no diabolical thief would leave home without.
While he organized for his little sojourn, he also multi-tasked. First, he reached out to Nibbles, a scary smart hacker he'd meet a few years back. He was going to need someone in his back pocket to help from the outside. Then he'd called a very frustrated Lisa. Apparently, she wasn't having much luck in hunting down her Christmas present. What he'd hoped to have been a quick debriefing, to give her the heads up that he might need some help, turned into her practically smirking over the phone at him.
After taking her taunts, and not so subtle teasing, he'd provided pertinent information to the not quiet formed planned. Basic stuff, but important stuff, that would provide a safety net when this thing went off the rails. Any thief worth his salt knew even the most thought out, well organized plan had a high tendency of imploding.
"Go away." Charlie groaned after a second nudge, and rolled onto her side, her back to him. His eyes caught a bit of something on her shoulder, but before he could decipher what he was actually seeing, she pulled the comforter up and over her head.
Clucking his tongue, a little miffed his view had been blocked, Leonard retaliated by nudging the bed once again. "Charlotte, I'm starting to think you're not a morning person."
"Stop calling me Charlotte."
A smile tugged at Leonard's mouth. She was way too easy to bait. "Are you going to sleep all day? We've got plans to make, places to be."
"What time is it?"
Flicking his wrist to see the face of his watch Leonard sighed. "Nine."
"Are you freaking kidding me?" A disgruntled groan kissed his ears.
"Early bird gets the worm and all that crap." Seeing that she wasn't going to move from the bed without some motivation, Leonard's hand yanked on the comforter. Earning him a growl, and a pillow lobbed at his face.
Struggling to sit up against the headboard, Charlie placed her head into the palm of her hands. "I really hate you."
"You're not a good liar Charlotte." Dropping the pillow she'd thrown at him to the ground, he took advantage of the sight before him. Her face may be hidden by her hands and a curtain of hair, but seeing her only clad in a pair of barely there shorts and a snug blue tank top, wasn't a worst way to start a day.
He had to admit, his fake girlfriend was extremely easy on the eyes.
He let his eyes travel from the tips of her toes, up creamy thighs sprinkled with freckles, to her tiny waist, then up her arm. The moment his eyes landed on her wrist Leonard felt any amusement bleed from him, as another emotion took its place.
"Charlotte I'm going to ask you a series of questions. And you in return will answer them."
Something about his voice gave Charlie pause. Slowly lifting her throbbing head from her hands, she chanced a look over at a very angry Leonard Snart.
"Would you say that you bruise easily?"
The question was odd, but seeing it was coming from a dangerous criminal, who was she to question it? "No. Not really."
"Did you have any bruises after our first encounter?"
She turned her head to stare at him as though he had suddenly suffered brain damage. "Encounter? You mean when you tied me to a chair and tried to scare me half to death? The encounter we had, after I had the audacity to save your life? That encounter?"
He only stared back at her, his eyes cold. When seconds nearly became a minute, he simply lifted a brow.
"No. I didn't have any bruises."
Leaning back in the chair, his hands steepled beneath his chin, Leonard breathed deeply through his nose. "Who touched you last night?"
"Excuse me?" Slightly offended, Charlie sat up straight. "I'm a stripper, not a -."
Rolling his eyes at her outburst, Leonard interrupted her. "Charlotte, you have a bruise on your arm."
Snapping her mouth shut, she looked down at her arms. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh." He mimicked dryly. "Who?"
Contemplating him for a moment, Charlie muttered underneath her breath before scooting off the bed. Grabbing a hoodie off the floor, she pulled it on and moved to leave the room. Leonard beat her to the door and blocked her escape.
"Who?" Leonard repeated.
"Why does it matter?" Charlie would have been a little flattered that someone cared, but it didn't really make any sense, when it was coming from a man how had no problem with taking her money and tying her to a chair.
Her question made him pause, and she took the opportunity to slip under his arm and into the bathroom. Shutting the door quickly before he snapped out of it, and just as quickly flipping the lock she took a deep breath. Moving to the mirror, she groaned at the reflection.
"Charlotte, we're not done discussing this." Leonard's voice floated through the door.
Picking up her toothbrush, she rolled her eyes and grabbed the toothpaste.
Her shower was quick, uneasy he'd pick the lock just because he could, that she almost forgot to rinse out the conditioner out of her hair. Pulling a towel off the rack in aggravation, she paused when she realized she was faced with a huge dilemma. "Shit."
"Forget something sweetums?"
Closing her eyes, Charlie cursed silently, before looking over to the pile of clothes she'd worn to bed, then let her eyes dart down to the damp towel wrapped around her slim frame. She knew her pajamas were basically clean, somewhat, but she hated she was going to have to put them back on, just to go to get clean clothing, only to return for privacy. But there was no way in hell she was leaving this room, wrapped only in a towel.
She really must be the only prudish stripper on the face of the earth.
With a relenting sigh, she put back on her shorts and tank top, wrapped her wet hair up in a towel and opened the door, only to be surprised when a bundle of clothes was shoved in her direction.
"We have an hour before the seminar starts." Was the only explanation he gave, and not sure how to take his sudden change in attitude, Charlie slipped back into the bathroom with a frown.
Setting down the clothing, she froze for a second before picking up the first item. "These aren't mine."
"You say it like it's a bad thing."
Going through the rest of the bundle, she paused at her bra and panties, at least those were hers. Her hands froze. Of course, that jerk perved through her underwear drawer. "Where are we going?"
"On a date." He replied dryly.
Picking up a pair of charcoal dress slacks and eyeing the rest she made a face. "Where? The library?"
"Only if you're willing to play sexy librarian."
Deciding it was better to ignore his taunt, Charlie made quick work of getting ready. Not one for high maintenance routine, she used a touch of mascara and blush. Pulling her hair back in a simple plait, she took a quick last look at the mirror.
"Sugarplum, we need to get going." Checking his watch, Leonard groaned and rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. He should've woken her up earlier.
"I feel stupid." Her tone let him know she wasn't impressed with her wardrobe. And as his eyes slipped to the now open bathroom door, he couldn't say he blamed her. But he'd chosen it, from a closet of Lisa's 'costumes', specifically to have her blend in.
"You're insane." Standing in the parking lot across the street from Central City Pharmaceuticals, Charlie looked around frantically, as Leonard stood next to her, seemingly waiting for her to have meltdown. "We can't be here."
"It's a seminar Charlotte." Knowing that laughing at her apparent alarm would probably have negative effects, Leonard let his eyes take in their surroundings. "Not a jailbreak."
The plain, professional clothing suddenly made sense, as she took in the crowd making their way into the building. It also explained why one of Central City's most wanted, looked like an accountant. A sexy accountant. "Why are we here?"
"We're here to learn about "Breast Health Awareness". Lifting up a brochure, he could barely resist the urge to leer. "I'm a firm supporter of breast health."
"Of course, you are." Rolling her eyes, Charlie grumbled. "Why are we really here?"
"I'm starting to think you don't trust me."
"Can't get nothing past you." She huffed, nowhere closer to extracting an explanation.
"No, you can't." Turning back to her car, he fished two satchel like briefcases out of the backseat. "It'd serve you well to remember that." Handing one to her, he didn't let go and waited until her eyes met his. "I'll find out you know."
Was he threatening her? Did he really think she would do something stupid like double cross him? Or that she'd get cold feet at the last second? But he could also be referring to the Rick sized bruise on her arm. She honestly couldn't tell.
Yanking on the briefcase, Charlie pulled the strap over her shoulder, trying to ignore the way Leonard kept staring at her. He was waiting for her to ask what he'd meant by his eerie comment, and she swallowed down the words she felt preprogramed to ask. She may be forced to deal with him if she were to have any chance of curing her Grams, but she didn't have to play the part of the puppet to his puppet master manipulation.
Appearing both peeved and slightly impressed she hadn't asked, Leonard put a hand on her lower back and gave a slight push. "Sooner, or later you'll tell me who hurt you. I'm a patient man."
They walked in silence, Leonard's intense eyes moving rapidly from one section to the next. At one point, his hand slipped into hers and slowed their progression. Charlie looked at him in question, but realized quickly he was up to something, and it was magnificent to watch.
She didn't know Leonard well, was pretty sure she didn't want to, but unlike the few masks he'd shown her through their limited acquaintance, Charlie was pretty sure his facial expression right now was the closest she'd ever see of the real Leonard Snart.
His eyes were softer, his mouth wasn't tipped into an almost there frown, and it was strange how much softer he looked without his jaw in constant tautness. Some people softened at furry little puppies, Leonard Snart got all ooey gooey when he was working on a job. Charlie was pretty sure his alcoholic guardian angel was crying somewhere nearby.
He must've felt her studying him. His mouth pinched, as his eyes went back to his typical squint and his back jaw clenched just a little. "We better get going, don't want to miss the breasts."