The one benefit to Michael showing up last night had been seeing Snart's face. He'd looked so livid at first, an expression Barry knew well from Joe, but then he'd also looked gratified, how could he not when Michael had proven he had the Snart family chops for B&Es?
Although Snart had almost caught Michael, sensing something downstairs in that supernatural way of his. Michael had gone a different route to the upper floors, taking the main elevators using his employee keycard, but he'd still gotten one up on his old man.
Aside from the entertainment factor—Snart really was such a dad when it came to reprimanding Michael—Barry was big enough to admit he was disappointed they'd been interrupted. Snart never let up with the flirting, the banter, the eye-glances, that damn swagger and allure, and Barry was running out of reasons to not want all of that to keep happening.
Combined family dinner night could end all that in its tracks. Really, Barry was only worried about Joe, but he could do plenty of damage on his own. Barry wasn't sure what to expect from Henry.
He was starting another morning at STAR Labs before work, daily copy of Picture News in hand to make sure Linda had done as promised—and she had, no unwanted surprises. As usual, the lights were on as Barry entered the Cortex.
"Hey, man, where you at?" he called, since Cisco wasn't immediately visible. "I need to hear about this date night!"
No response. Cisco must already be working. Barry checked the rest of the Cortex, the Pipeline, then finally moved to the Accelerator.
"Cisco?! You here?"
Which was where he found him, after a clank like he'd kicked something and a flail of limbs, appearing from the opening into the Accelerator itself as if he'd been taking a nap.
"What were you doing?" Barry snickered at his friend's tousled hair and sleepy expression, "I thought—" only for a second tousled head to appear next to him. "Lisa?!"
Apparently, the date was still going.
"Barry! Hey, man, this is…you know who this is," Cisco hurriedly tried to right the state of his wavy mane, nearly tripping as he jumped down from the Accelerator and helped Lisa down after him. "We were just…uhh…"
"I'll give you a minute," Barry saved him the trouble, "take your time, really," and retreated swiftly back into the Cortex.
A few minutes later, Cisco and Lisa came in looking slightly less rumpled, though while 'embarrassed' didn't appear to be part of Lisa's repertoire, Cisco was several shades darker than usual.
"I remember you," she said now that she had a good look at Barry. "From the bar that night, right?"
"Barry," he shook her hand—at least she was friendlier than Mick.
"Michael's friend," she said with a growing smirk. "Or should I say Lenny's?"
Cisco's eyes went wide in apology behind her, but Barry was well past caring if the Rogues knew his name.
"Yes and no," he nodded at the nearby Flash suit.
Understanding dawned on Lisa the second she glanced at it and back to Barry.
"Snart and I never dated, I'm just The Flash and he doesn't want Michael to know."
"Dude," Cisco sputtered at his candor.
"It's fine, Cisco. I told Mick last night before the break-in."
"Heat Wave knows now too? Why even have a mask at this point?"
Barry glowered at him, but Lisa just giggled.
"That is a shame, honey," she said. "The never dated part, I mean. Here I thought Lenny had some fling he never told me about but it's all bunk, huh? Anything we can do to change that?" she batted her eyes the way Barry imagined she often did with Cisco, though this time for her brother's sake, and once again, he noticed the family resemblance to Michael—at least where scheming was involved.
"Michael certainly seems to think so," Barry said. "He and Snart are coming over for dinner tonight. Joe's idea. As in my adopted dad, Joe West."
"Detective West is your…oh, this is too good." She hopped up onto Cisco's desk as if eager for gossip, much to Cisco's continued shock. "I'd invite myself along to be a fly on that wall, but I'm sure Michael will give me the 411. Just what are your intentions with my brother, Flash?"
"I'm…not really sure anymore," Barry glanced away with a nervous chuckle.
"Bro," Cisco forgot his stupor over the situation and hopped onto the desk beside Lisa, "seriously?"
"I don't know. Maybe? We've been having a lot of fun lately," Barry shrugged, unable to stop his automatic tell of scratching the back of his neck, "but he's pretty adamant about not changing his stripes, you know? And I wouldn't ask him to," he said to Lisa directly, "I just think he might want to do things differently now for Michael's sake, for himself too, but can't admit it."
"Sounds like you got Lenny pegged," Lisa said with a softer smile. "As a general family rule, we don't tend to admit when we're wrong. Michael's a beacon of hope for Lenny after…"
"What happened with your dad," Barry finished.
That sad 'I'm strong because I have to be' smile was a well-known expression to Barry; he'd worn it for years, but it was the way Cisco scooted closer and took her hand without a word, and how her smile twitched wider in reply that warmed him.
"Lenny's worst fear was always turning out like Dad," she said. "Sometimes, he thinks he failed. Michael gives him hope that he hasn't. But he's not used to all these warm fuzzy feelings, domestic bliss and all that. He's scared, needs some sense of control to cling to."
"Sounds like you know your brother too," Barry said.
"If only that meant he'd listen to me more often. You might be able to make more headway than you think. As Flash and Barry. Michael trusts you."
"Michael is my friend. Snart is…"
"Your supervillain fake ex-boyfriend?"
"Yeah," Barry huffed another laugh.
"Well," Lisa hopped down from her perch, "you work on figuring out what that means to you, honey. I'm sure Michael's keeping a close eye on the situation. I for one can't wait to see how it all turns out. But screw with my brother's feelings and you'll make a lovely gilded statue for my living room," she said with a dangerous twist to her smile, then turned to place a lingering kiss on Cisco's cheek. "See ya later, Cisco. Call me. Flash," she nodded at Barry before strolling out of the Cortex as if she wasn't wearing yesterday's clothes.
"Dude," Barry could finally react to that properly, "all night? Nice."
"No, no, no. As much as I would love bragging rights," Cisco dropped down from the desk himself, "we stayed up all night talking, then dozed off like an hour before you got here."
"Really?" Barry quelled the desire to gush at how sweet that was.
"Yeah," Cisco gave a dopey smile. "It was awesome. Did you know she can take an engine apart faster than Rory and put it back together? I'm gonna need to crash hard at some point, but so worth it. Snart doesn't want to kill me, right?" he asked with sudden worry.
"I don't think so," Barry chuckled. "He might want to kill me after tonight. What am I thinking allowing family dinner with Joe?"
"Apparently, about not fake-dating Cold, which I realize I'm supposed to be against and all, but…" He gazed longingly the direction Lisa had gone.
What a pair they made.
"But hey," Cisco turned back to him, "you'll have Michael as a buffer, right?"
Barry wasn't so sure that would matter if Joe pushed, or if Snart did, considering the way he'd chewed Michael out at Mercury Labs last night. On the plus side, they hadn't had to exit like criminals to finish the job, but walked out with Michael giving the confused guards a wave.
They had what they needed to set their trap now. The contamination lockdown had actually given Barry an idea, which they'd discussed on their way back to the safe house where he parted ways with the others for the night.
Snart said he'd handle writing the report Michael should be giving to McGee about now, so some things would already be in place before the end of the day. Michael would oversee all that directly before coming to STAR Labs to continue working with Cisco, though Barry wasn't entirely sure what they were working on today.
"We're making good headway on his research without his research," Cisco said when Barry asked. "He's pretty intense about it, almost like another person when he gets focused. More like Cold actually…"
"But you can't finish what he was working on without the components the thief stole, right?"
"Right, but if you and Team Rogues catch the thief soon, Michael figures he's that much closer to a breakthrough. Said he was calling in Hartley again too."
"Sheer torture for you?" Barry snorted at Cisco's immediate eye-roll.
"Eh," Cisco shrugged, collapsing into his roller chair, "he's not so bad. Sometimes. With Michael around, he's almost pleasant. And man, is it fun to bounce ideas off both of them. Between the three of us, we could probably take over the world. But I promise I'll do my best to make sure Pied Piper and Kid Cold never realize that."
Barry chuckled harder. "The world thanks you. Also, FYI, I guess Snart and I are meeting Michael here to head to the house together later."
This time the eye-roll was accompanied by a groan. "You know how I love seeing Cold on my turf on the regular."
"You just had a sleepover with his sister."
"Totally innocent sleepover," Cisco reminded him. "Minimal making out."
"But there was making out?"
"Oh yeah. You?"
"No," Barry choked. "We were committing a crime, technically."
Cisco gave in to sleepy chuckles. "Sounds like Captain Cold foreplay to me. Less likely people have been worthy of a second chance. Okay, maybe not less likely, but equally not very likely people."
Like Barry's dad, he thought. Though maybe Oliver was a closer approximation.
Oliver. He would hate everything about this, but that was a problem for another day.
"Have fun with the science brigade," Barry said, patting the desk to leave Cisco be, since his friend had kicked up his feet, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes, "and take a nap before they get here."
"Already ahead of you," Cisco waved him away.
XXXXX
Len couldn't believe he was going through with this and that he had brownies to contribute. Lisa had dropped him off since they'd be taking Michael's car to the West house, with Barry. The kid didn't have a car—and wasn't supposed to have a way to get places without a car like a human Roadrunner—and Len didn't like the idea of showing up with Michael without an immediately accessible shield. Lisa had waxed on about the situation with far too much mocking.
Barry really was taking their recent truce to heart though. He'd told Lisa the truth just like he'd told Mick. Now the only person who didn't know Barry was The Flash was Michael, which should have been a comfort, made it easier to keep it all straight and make sure Michael never found out. Because that would keep him safer, wouldn't it? Out of the line of fire if he wasn't in the know about one of Central City's biggest criminal targets.
The logic behind keeping that secret from Michael had made sense to Len originally, because he wanted all of this to be done with after the thief was caught and Michael's research was returned to him. No more fringe work, no Flash team-ups, no play-dates at STAR Labs. Michael could be friends with Barry and Cisco and all the rest of them on his own without putting any negative spotlight on him, and Len didn't have to be a part of any of it, didn't want to be a part of it.
Right?
The prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck alerted him to Barry's approach before the coppery smell or the telling whoosh of air and flicker of lightning. In moments, Len had a companion at his side heading down the STAR Labs hallways.
"Hey, Snart, hang on. We should probably pretend you picked me up. How else did I get here?"
Len kept his eyes forward, suppressing the reaction to smile at Barry's arrival. Of course he hadn't thought about the obvious questions that might arise from this plan. "You really need to work on your lying, kid."
"Or just not lie," Barry said. "It's a habit I've been trying to break."
"Like with Lisa," Len slid his eyes to Barry knowingly, who looked good in a long-sleeved shirt and bomber jacket, "divulging your secret this morning? Tell me, why was she here so early if her date was last night?"
"Oh, uhh…" Barry went a healthy shade of red.
"You let me know how that 'no lying' rule works out for you." For now, Len still wanted to keep his son out of it and safe.
Barry attempted to think up a good lie, or any sort of comeback, but didn't manage one before he sniffed the air and glanced for the first time at the pan Len was carrying. "What do you have that smells so good?" he said with eager eyes as they rounded the corner into the Cortex, which turned out to be empty, the silence the only thing that drew Barry's attention back up. "Where is everyone? Cisco? Hartley?"
"Hartley?" Len turned to Barry with a frown.
"I mean…uhh…Michael?" Barry spun quickly to hide his failing poker face.
It was eerily quiet, not like the room was empty, but as if the occupants were in hiding, breathing, waiting, planning an ambush, Len realized, moments before the trap was sprung.
Ready to use the pan of brownies as a weapon, Len was stunned to immobility when someone wearing a pair of silver goggles with tiny slits to see through sprang up from behind the desk, bringing him face to face with—a cold gun.
"Freeze," a voice said as if to parody Len to absurdity, and only in that moment of uncharacteristic but all-encompassing panic did Len realize he had nothing to fear, because the owner of the gun was his son.
"What the hell are you doing?" he shoved the pan into Barry's arms so he could stalk toward Michael threateningly.
Michael had the gall to giggle, followed by additional laughter from Cisco and Hartley, who appeared from their hiding spot in the med room. The goggles came down and were tossed aside, some relic of STAR Labs, but the gun was not a toy or a vacuum cleaner this time.
It was smaller than Len's, just slightly, still silver with glowing blue power cells, but had a larger barrel for a wider spread. And it looked charged. It looked lethal.
"Relax, Dad," Michael pulled back to prevent Len from snatching the gun from his hands, "it doesn't work. Not yet. This is going to be our bait for the thief."
"Our bait?" Len repeated, practically smoldering. "The bait was supposed to be your remaining research."
"And it is, because it's all in the gun," Michael lifted it proudly.
"That's what you were working on today," Barry said, though half his attention was on the pan again.
Len snagged it back from him before he could steal a piece. "You knew about this?"
"I, umm…" Barry failed spectacularly once more at coming up with a lie.
"No firing pin, Dad," Michael interjected. "So even if the thief gets their hands on the gun and implements the rest of my research, it still wouldn't fire without this." He lifted the important missing piece that he then slipped into his own pocket.
"I don't like this," Len said. He hadn't given in and let Michael see his gun yet; he hadn't expected the boy to make his own.
"It's my research," Michael defended. "I'm not slowing down just because of one person. I'm so close."
"I thought your research had nothing to do with a gun."
"It doesn't. But using one as the conduit for absolute zero isn't against the research. The principles are the same." Michael inspected the gun with an appreciation that spoke to Len's own obsessive tendencies, which he did not enjoy seeing echoed. "It's fine, Dad," he said when he caught Len's stare, "I know what I'm doing."
"Twenty-year-olds always think that," Len grumbled.
"Good thing I'm twenty-three then," Michael said.
Len glared at him. That wasn't the point.
"I'll be taking that," Hartley came up behind Michael to swipe the gun away.
"What for?" Len growled. At least Cisco had the decency to look cowed, much as part of that might have been from dating Lisa; Hartley took it all in stride.
"I'm dropping this off at Mercury Labs tonight so everything's in place in case our thief is feeling frisky. Michael convinced McGee to consider me for an open position. We met earlier so I have free reign to drop this off past security undisturbed."
Len glanced at Michael with renewed accusation.
"We'd be in entirely different departments, Dad," Michael rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Hart. I appreciate it."
Hart, urg. Why couldn't Michael fall for a boring non-meta, non-former felon?
"When you want a job done right," Hartley winked at him, then placed the gun in a nearby case before turning to head out. "Have a nice dinner, boys."
And now dinner. Wonderful.
Surely, this evening couldn't get any worse.
XXXXX
Iris met them at the door instead of Detective West, which was an initial bonus, though she also glomped onto Michael with a squeal, which gave Len the distinct impression of being outnumbered and out of his depth. He'd never done anything like this in his 40+ years—an intimate family dinner party in the suburbs.
"Iris! You are even more gorgeous than I remember," Michael squeezed her tightly.
"Oh hush. You look amazing. And here I always wondered where those dazzling blue eyes came from." She turned her attention to Len with her usual impenetrable boldness.
"Miss West."
"Snart. I assume you're not armed this time?"
"I never made that promise," Len said, though he supposed he might hang the cold gun up with his jacket if he was feeling brash enough—and trusted that no one would swipe it.
Barry had somehow acquired the pan of brownies again while Len removed his jacket and the cleverly concealed weapon and was peeking under the tinfoil. "You made brownies?"
"Dad made the brownies," Michael affirmed. "He's a really good baker."
"Of course he is," Barry said. "Is there anything you're not good at, Snart?"
"No dessert before dinner, Barry." Len yanked the pan away from him.
The responding pout was positively criminal. "Really taking this dad thing seriously, huh?"
"Or there are just certain manners everyone should abide by…superheroes included," Len finished as a whisper at Barry's ear while Michael was distracted.
He'd swear the boy shivered. "Fine, but if they're as delicious as they smell, I'm making you repay me for all those coffees in baked goods."
Len snorted.
"Still keeping up on my articles, Snart?" Iris asked, as she led them further into the living room.
"Always. Though this morning, I had the pleasure of reading Miss Park's take on things. You two combined at Picture News could be quite the power couple."
"I think we can save that for Wally," she grinned at the newest member of the West family, who rose from the sofa to greet them, all smiles and boyish good looks.
"You got another date lined up?" Barry asked.
"Maybe…" Wally looked away with an obvious blush. "Is that weird? I didn't mean to overstep, man—"
"No!" Barry said as if flustered by the question. "I mean, Linda and I barely dated."
That's where Miss Park fit in. "You just make all the rounds, don't you, Barry?"
"Trust me," he shot Len a serious look, "I make very few rounds. Snart, Michael, this is my brother Wally," he introduced them.
"Hey," Wally waved rather than extended his hand. Millennials.
"Hi," Michael smiled just as brightly. "Barry was telling me we have quite a bit in common concerning long-lost fathers."
"So I heard." Wally drew in almost conspiratorially closer. "Do you also have to deal with him treating you like a ten-year-old even though we're in our twenties?"
"Constantly," Michael said.
They dove right into their own conversation as if the rest of the room fell away, mostly revolving around short-comings that Len and West had in common, apparently.
"That is going to be disastrous, I can feel it…" Len said.
Barry snickered, then straightened like a soldier being reprimanded by a drill sergeant as the kitchen door swung open and West finally appeared, followed by Henry Allen and Tina McGee.
Upon seeing Len, West headed straight for him, putting him on the defensive, a feeling he'd been expecting. The brownie pan made for a nice shield at least since Barry was no help.
"Snart," West said like he wasn't quite sure he'd made the right decision inviting Len and Michael into his home, though a glance at Michael and Wally mid-laugh over whatever they were discussing seemed to relax him. "I see some of the family is already swayed."
"We brought dessert," Len pushed the pan at West rather than engage in the pissing contest they'd likely get to later.
West took it but stared at the container skeptically.
"If you're concerned about its contents, Detective, I'm sure Michael will happily eat the first bite to prove it isn't poisoned. That is, assuming he can beat Barry to it." Len was about to greet McGee and Henry next when Michael erupted loudly.
"Ulrich was the worst! But you learn so much in his class," he commiserated with Wally over CCU courses, which Len supposed was better than complaining about overbearing fathers. "You're almost ready to graduate, huh? Any idea what you want to do next?"
The way Wally glanced at Barry, big brown eyes and even bigger smile looking on hopefully, said all he cared about was joining the hero team, much as Len could tell West wasn't too keen on his children putting themselves on the frontlines. He could relate entirely.
"I'm still trying to figure that out," Wally said.
"Frankly, I'd be honored if Wallace decided to put his hat in the ring at Mercury Labs," Tina said.
"Really?" Wally perked up.
"I know a few professors who keep me apprised of upcoming talent."
"Hey now," Joe broke up the discussion before Wally could look too excited at the prospect, "no moving my son out before the first one's gone, alright? As the youngest," he gestured with the pan still in his hands at Wally and Michael, "you two win the lottery of finishing setting the table. And put these in the kitchen, huh?" he handed the pan to Wally, to which Barry looked on longingly.
If the key to the kid's heart was through his stomach…Len didn't know what to do with that information.
Michael and Wally headed off like peas in a pod, already back to happily chatting.
"Sounds like you're also considering Hartley Rathaway for a position," Len couldn't resist mentioning in the silence that followed.
McGee read between the lines with an aptitude Len appreciated, and frankly, it made him feel considerably better that Michael was working for such a shrewd woman. "I can see the benefits in overlooking a criminal record where it suits me, Mr. Snart."
"And speaking of…" Henry stepped forward, the first to extend Len an actual handshake, even eagerly and so very much like Barry with the way he offered Len his full attention and a warm-hearted smile. "Leonard," he said as they shook.
"Doc. Freedom suits you." He always was a good-looking man, but there was a light in him now that Len had never seen before.
"You two know each other?" Barry gaped.
"We crossed paths in the Heights," Len tried to say dismissively so as not to cause a fuss. "Not secretly besties, Barry, if you're worried about that."
"I was worried for a while there that you were targeting my son," Henry said, "until I learned that once you knew his name, you played things differently, even saved his life a time or two. Don't deny it, Leonard," he chuckled when Len cleared his throat to counter that, "just let me say thank you."
Michael wasn't close enough to overhear or infer anything Flash related while in the kitchen, but the topic still put Len on the spot. He wasn't sure which was worse, West's cynicism or Henry's faith.
"He's helped me with father and son alike," Len said, "and helped save my sister once. Figure keeping an eye on him when he runs in without a plan is a fair trade."
"I don't run in without a plan," Barry crossed his arms petulantly.
"Not ever huh?"
"I…usually have a plan."
Iris and Henry both snickered.
West was less amused. "Why don't we head into the dining room so we can eat?" he said as Michael and Wally came back to set some final items on the table. "Drinks are in the kitchen. Snart, beer?" he offered with only mild gauging.
A few open beers were already on the table, so Len figured, "Why not."
So far, so good, and in some ways, Len felt like the outnumbered one in the house tonight was West, and that didn't feel half bad.
XXXXX
Barry could hardly believe dinner was actually not a disaster. At least through most of the meal. Spaghetti and meatballs was one of Joe's specialties, with salad and bread and those brownies waiting in the kitchen—with ice cream, Barry decided, because that would be amazing, especially if they were as delicious as they looked.
There were a surprising amount of things to discuss that brought them nowhere near Flash talk, including Wally's schooling, Michael's job, how Henry and Tina had gotten together, since Michael was bursting with questions about that and somehow managed to ask without overstepping boundaries with his boss, and of course any news stories Iris was working on.
Barry wondered sometimes if Joe and Henry planned to sit one at each head of the table on purpose, but regardless that's how they ended up with Tina, Michael, and Snart on one side, then Barry across from Snart beside Iris and Wally.
It was so strange, having dinner across from Snart, in Barry's home, without any threats or weapons involved—well, at least within range. But it was also nice, because Snart couldn't keep up his Cold persona with Michael sitting right beside him softening his comebacks.
Though Michael could be sharp when he wanted to be.
"I'm just glad you two aren't dating anymore," Joe said, bringing up the subject Barry had hoped to avoid, but a couple beers tended to make Joe daring.
"Oh?" Michael said without losing his smile. "And why is that?"
The table went quiet, because Joe couldn't respond without saying something mean, and having Michael's attention on him with that patient but challenging smile had him trapped.
"Because people can't change?" he continued.
"Michael."
"No, Dad, I want to say this. Dinner has been great, Detective. I'm glad you invited us. But I think you need to hear that my dad's never been anything but good to me. He didn't have to listen or want to connect when I showed up on his doorstop. He wasn't a part of my life before, didn't even know I existed. Just like you and Wally. But despite all that, dismissing me never crossed his mind." The way he looked at Snart was so heartfelt and pure, even Snart looked disarmed when their eyes met, and Joe cleared his throat of the biting comment he'd had ready.
"You're right. I'm sorry about that. Guess I got a bad habit of assuming the worst on occasion."
"More like all the time," Wally said, which prompted Barry and Iris to jump in too.
"There was this one time—"
"Once he actually almost—"
"We don't need examples," Joe cut them off, causing most of the table to dissolve into laughter that eased the remaining tension.
"You know, Snart's a jazz fan, Joe," Barry said to change the subject.
"That right?"
"When I have time," Snart tried to downplay his interest but couldn't resist adding, "I prefer local musicians. Julio Mendez is an overlooked talent."
"No way. I saw his first show," Joe leaned closer.
"As did I. Must have been sitting in opposite corners, Detective," Snart smiled.
"Guess so," Joe couldn't help but smile back.
"At least you have that in common," Iris said. "Barry hates jazz."
"I don't hate it. I like plenty of jazz songs," Barry explained to Snart, "but only when the singer is the focus and the song isn't seven minutes of wailing saxophone."
Snart and Michael both laughed, and Barry noticed the way Snart's smile smoothed out his entire face.
"Remember that time Dad was trying to school you on 'the greats'," Iris squeezed Barry's arm, "and you fell asleep to that awful record—"
"Hey," Joe pointed a finger at them, "none of my vinyls are awful."
Barry and Iris giggled together, leaning easily into each other, and Barry caught Michael's eyes that had become strangely laser-focused.
"Hey, Barry," he said, though his smile seemed off now, "why don't you help me clear away the dishes so we can get those brownies served."
Yes, Barry promptly forgot everything else, already pushing out of his seat to gather empty plates. "Best idea I've heard all night."
"You get one piece," Snart said to him.
"I'd like to see you make me," Barry dared him, and turned for the kitchen with Michael following.
It didn't dawn on Barry that Michael had an ulterior motive until they'd set everything by the sink, and before he could seek out the brownie pan, Michael pushed into his space.
"Am I crazy, or do I remember you having a thing for your sister?"
"What?" Barry winced. "No. I mean…she's not my sister."
"But you had a thing for her?"
"It wasn't meant to be."
"So you two…?"
Barry ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.
"Sorry," Michael pulled back, "I'm prying, I don't mean to do that, I just remember how I figured you for gay until I found out about Iris, coz, you know, you were dating a guy when we met."
"I've had more girlfriends, to be honest." Barry leaned back against the counter, understanding now where Michael's smile had gone. "The truth is, my last girlfriend moved to a new city to pursue another career, and I didn't try to stop her. I realized I couldn't let her into my life, that she wasn't the one I wanted to let into my life. I'd always thought the person I did want was Iris, but when I thought about being with her, after everything that happened between us, after her fiancé died…"
"Oh," Michael's eyes widened. "Wow."
"Yeah. Sort of a heavy thing to follow. But it made me realize, when I stopped being selfish about what I wanted, that she wasn't being honest about what she wanted. She never wanted me the way I thought I wanted her. Not really."
"You would have been settling for each other," Michael said.
"I never thought I could love anyone like her, but it stung knowing there'd always be this part of her that wished she'd had the chance to be with someone else. That's not her fault, but I can't escape being selfish, I guess, coz what I really want is someone who'd rather have me, no matter the options or obstacles, no matter what."
"That's not selfish," Michael said with his usual smile. "It's romantic."
"I'm just glad it didn't put a wedge between us. Iris is my best friend."
Michael nodded, seeming to understand now, but there was an edge of mischief that entered his expression. "Nice to know you're open to finding love elsewhere."
"Maybe," Barry chuckled, feeling his cheeks darken. "Maybe I am."
"Hey, Dad," Michael said, whipping Barry's attention to the door, where Snart had managed to enter silently despite his own collection of dishes, "why don't you help Barry finish up? I wanted to talk to Wally about something."
That little…
"Something, is it?" Snart sensed the boy's scheming just as easily.
"Yep," Michael said, and was gone the next moment.
Snart almost looked apologetic as he set down his dishes. "Back to Parent Trapping?"
"Seems so," Barry said, glad for the moment alone, because he hadn't told anyone what happened between him and Iris, and he felt remarkably freed having that weight off his chest. "Could be worse though."
With a smirk, he zipped through doing the dishes and had the brownies divvied up into bowls—ice cream thawing on the counter for those who wanted it—in barely a blink, giving them time to talk before the next person came sauntering in.
"Check the cabinet over there," Barry gestured behind Snart at the hutch in the corner.
"For…?" he glanced back warily.
"Just check it."
Inside were an assortment of Santa Claus mugs put away for the holidays—and one shaped like a reindeer.
"If you can find a way to smuggle that out of here, seriously, please do."
"Are you asking me to steal from Detective West?" Snart feigned affront.
"Maybe."
"And why would I do that when he's been almost cordial to me tonight?"
"Because," Barry said, moving slowly across the kitchen to join Snart, hand trailing along the countertop to make it clear he was prowling on purpose, "you like stealing, you like getting one over on people, especially when they don't trust you, and that mug is hideous but…sentimental."
Bending down to retrieve it from the cabinet, Barry was forced to lean across Snart's body in the process. He set the mug behind Snart on the hutch's shelf by reaching around his waist and then…didn't move away.
"Consider it a belated Christmas present, and if you manage to get it out of the house without Joe noticing," he leaned a fraction of an inch closer, "I owe you a bag of mini marshmallows."
Barry could have sworn that the way Snart looked at him when he pulled back was like he might be falling in love with him that moment.
But the expression soon fell. "This isn't permanent."
"But it is addicting. A lot of surprising things can be addicting once you get a taste."
"Careful with those words, Barry," Snart didn't try to hide the way his eyes strayed to Barry's lips, "I'll get the wrong idea."
"What if it's not the wrong idea?" Sliding his other arm around Snart's waist as well, Barry boxed him in completely, to which he flinched at first but eased back toward Barry in a way he'd never seen with anyone else. "See you keep calling my bluff, and I keep folding, but maybe I don't want to fold anymore." This time, he wanted that kiss they kept denying themselves.
"Barry…" Snart whispered against his approaching lips.
"Yeah…?"
"Are you vibrating?"
"What?" Barry reared back. "I mean, sometimes, but…wait." Realizing that something was vibrating, he checked his phone that had been pressed against Snart's leg.
"Sometimes?"
Crap, Barry thought as he looked to see if the buzzing was a call. It wasn't.
The kitchen door swung open and in came Joe, followed by Iris. Their phones were going off the same way.
"Meta alert," Joe said, only taking a moment to frown at the proximity between Barry and Snart before he added, "Guess that thief already took the bait."
"Does this mean we get to call The Flash?" Michael said before his head popped up over Joe's shoulder.
Why did this have to happen now?
"Better call him, Scarlet," Snart said, though Barry hoped the crook to his smirk meant he was disappointed too. "Coz I'm gonna need a faster ride."
TBC...
