Len had no idea what time it was when he started to rouse, but it wasn't near dawn like he had been waking up lately—or rather, being forced to wake up from a knock. He'd slept, not only because he hadn't been disturbed, but because his sleep had finally been peaceful. Barry had sung him to sleep after…

A smile and swirl of warmth brought Len to full alertness. Barry wasn't buried under the covers for once, but slept with his arms clinging to Len's waist, creating a heat all down Len's side, their legs interlocked, still very much naked. There was not a single regret in Len that he had given in and stolen this remarkable creature's virginity. It hadn't really been stolen, after all, but very freely offered up.

Though there was something nagging at the back of Len's mind, a shadow of doubt from the night before, something sour that had almost pushed through their connection before Barry started to sing, like maybe Barry had been lying about something, but Len had no idea what that might be.

He chalked it up to paranoia and chose to enjoy the continued afterglow of waking up with someone he enjoyed having in his arms.

Len decided to let Barry sleep and carefully extracted himself from the bed without waking him. He watched with a fond smile as Barry stirred only enough to roll further onto Len's side and bury his nose in Len's pillow.

Taking a quick shower, Len returned to find Barry still asleep and decided to wake him with breakfast instead of a nudge on his shoulder. He still didn't have what was needed for muffins but he could manage French toast.

Len brought his phone with him into the kitchen to check for any messages. Nothing of importance yet, but he knew that the powwow with Santini could come any day, and the further along it got in the week, he would feel even more anxious until it happened. For now, he tried not to think about it, until just as he was dishing up the French toast onto plates, his phone rang, and instead of Axel, he saw Sara's name on the caller ID.

"Lance. Good news for me, I hope?" Len answered, excitement replacing his anxiety, which was not what he usually felt when speaking to his parole officer.

"Hello, Leonard. I wish it was good news."

Len's stomach dropped as she continued to speak, telling him plainly but sympathetically that an ex-con getting a business loan was not so easy an ask, something he knew and should have expected, but still he'd hoped.

He could get one, eventually, but not so soon after he'd been locked away. It would take a long time before anything would be possible, maybe years, to build back credibility, prove he was a worthwhile investment, and a handful of other phrases that meant society didn't trust him to become something other than what he'd always been.

He'd never get out from under Jesse without a better plan, but as good as he usually was at forming new ones on the fly, he couldn't think of any way to escape his fate. How was he supposed to tell Barry that he might have traded one prison for another by choosing to be with Len?

"Thanks for the head's up, Lance. I'm sure I'll figure something out."

"Call me, Leonard, if you need advice, anything more I can do—"

"I will," Len said and hung up promptly, because there wasn't more to say. He would figure something out, he had to, but it likely wouldn't be legal.

"That smells divine, Len," Barry startled him from his thoughts. He'd grabbed fresh underwear but had chosen to put on that too small T-shirt again, hanging in the doorway looking coy and delicious, even more so than the French toast.

Len had to smile despite fearing that someday soon he'd let Barry down.

XXXXX

Somehow, with seemingly so little to do, the rest of the week passed quickly waiting on news from Axel of Sam and Rosa's movements. Some days, Len went out. Some days, Barry joined him. Every day, there were people stopping by for Len's skillset, but never anyone unsavory trying to take him out.

Most nights, they ended up at the pool—and eventually in bed to revisit their first experience. Barry was insatiable and wanted to try new positions and ways of making Len feel good every chance he got. Len wasn't used to having a regular partner, but by getting to know each other's bodies, each successive time together felt better than the last.

They hadn't tried with Barry topping yet or anything with his mermaid self, but after the first few days, Len couldn't stop thinking about both and almost asked several times before he chickened out.

He really was some nervous preteen when it came to Barry, blushing and fumbling for words. He'd never been good at flirting, expressing feelings, seducing someone, but Barry made him comfortable in so many other ways, made him happy—and that just made his inability to ask for what he wanted worse for fear of saying the wrong thing and screwing this up.

It wasn't easy to be someone else's fairytale.

Maybe he could find some other way to make the money he needed to buy that shop and make an honest man of himself—and Barry. It was hard to change one's stripes, but not impossible. After all, Barry usually had a tail and now he had legs. Surely, Len could manage something simpler.

He might have believed more in that too if his hope in the universe hadn't been dashed one afternoon late in the week when he and Barry slipped out to grab lunch somewhere that wasn't Len's living room, and he saw a familiar figure pickpocketing someone a block away.

"Is that Ralph?" Barry asked.

Len quickened his pace, the victim already heading away unaware that their wallet was gone.

Unfortunately, Len wasn't the only one who'd seen. Rory and Palmer really did get around lately, and they crossed the street to intercept Ralph before Len and Barry could reach him.

"Well I'll be, they sure are startin' 'em young, eh, Ray?"

"Mr. Dibny, shouldn't you be in school? And returning that man's wallet?"

Len rushed forward faster because Ralph turned with wide eyes that proved he had no idea how to talk his way out of this. "I'm sure he was planning on informing the guy he dropped it, detectives."

All three spun about at Len and Barry's approach, Ralph looking cookie-jar caught before he mouthed at Len an earnest 'thank you'.

"Snart," Rory scoffed. "Showin' him the ropes to make sure his form's up to snuff?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, Rory. All I see is a kid trying to be a Good Samaritan."

Rory eyed Len up and down with barely a glance at Barry. "What are you pullin' a Captain America for?"

Again with the Marvel reference, but any time Len went out, he wore the glasses and ball cap to play it safe. "Trying something new. What, not a fan?"

"I'll uhhh…catch up to that gentleman and let him know he dropped this," Palmer said, taking the wallet from Ralph and dashing away.

Ralph inched closer to Len and Barry's side of the standoff, causing Rory to shoot him a glare before snarling back at Len.

"I was too easy on ya for too long, Snart. Maybe if Dibny lands his ass in juvie earlier, he'll learn better."

"No, you can't." Ralph shrunk back behind Len. "Santini's guys made me—"

"Ralph," Len snapped before he could incriminate himself further. Santini's men? Shit. "Don't say anything else."

Palmer came back over at a jog, having hurried to make sure his partner didn't lose his cool.

"Look," Len tried before this escalated, surprised at the plan forming in his mind that before today hadn't dared rear its head, but if all this was what it looked like with Ralph, it might be the only way, "maybe you let this one slide for the kid, okay, because he's gonna promise me," he looked at Ralph pointedly, "that this is the last time he ever pulls something like this."

"I swear!"

"And why would we let him off?" Rory growled.

Len was either a genius or out of his damn mind. "Coz maybe I know why you've been hanging around more, and I might have a lead on when a big enough deal's gonna go down that you can bring Vincent Santini and a few rats on Jesse's side in."

"Len?" Barry questioned his seeming betrayal, but Len added:

"Only if you stop there and leave Jesse and the rest of his side out of it."

"You mean leave Axel Walker out of it." Rory sneered.

"Whoever isn't at the location once I learn it, yeah."

"You don't even have a place yet? Or a time?"

"I'll have it," Len said, leaning up in Rory's space as he towered over him.

"And you'll inform us?" Palmer said.

"As soon as I'm sure it's not a false alarm, I'll send a message and record everything I hear until you get there. I'll even testify if it comes to that," Len said, aware of how dangerous having this conversation in the open might be, but fairly certain there wasn't anyone around with traitorous ears—other than Ralph, "but you let the kid go and leave Jesse and his people alone. That's the deal."

Palmer looked all for it, the eager puppy type like an eternal rookie who never lost faith in people, even if he was pushing forty, but Rory was a realist.

"You must want something real big from Jesse to make this kinda play," he said.

"Yeah," Len agreed, the biggest thing he'd ever wanted. "Out."

"Ch. Heard that before."

"I mean it, Mick," Len used the man's first name like he hadn't in years. "I don't want to do this anymore. And I don't want anyone else taking my place." He shot another pointed look at where Ralph remained cowed.

Eventually, the gruffness softened from Rory's demeanor, if only a little. "This is the last time I'm trusting you, Lenny."

"I know. Blame him for being a good influence," he thrust a thumb at Barry. The last thing he needed was for Rory and Palmer to expect otherwise since Barry wasn't as familiar a face.

Barry, of course, beamed at the compliment.

"Think I hear a call comin' in, Ray," Rory said to his partner. "Better get back to the car so we can check it out." He looked Barry up and down like he didn't quite get it, but he nodded and turned on his heel without another word.

"You got it, Mick!" Palmer hurried to follow him. "Thanks, Snart. You got our numbers?"

"How else am I supposed to avoid 'em? I'll call, any day now."

As soon as the detectives were gone, Len seized Ralph by the shoulders and ushered him off the sidewalk into the nearest alley.

"Snart, I owe you big time—"

"You better believe you do." Len pushed him just shy of harsh as Barry crowded in with them. "You're joining us for lunch and you are going to tell me everything you've been keeping to yourself. Then you are heading right back to school. Understood?"

Ralph's head nearly popped off as he nodded like a bobble head.

They made sure to head the long way to a diner well out of any territories, and Ralph spilled his secrets. He'd been running for Santini for months, but he'd also been running on the down-low the past couple weeks for Jesse.

"You are the last snitch," Len grumbled, though he'd figured as much. He would have been more pissed if he wasn't impressed he didn't catch on sooner.

"Santini's guys said it was the only way they'd stop giving me grunt work and take me seriously." Ralph sat alone on his side of the booth facing their scrutiny, shoving fries in his mouth every few sentences like a bottomless pit. "I figured a few tidbits of info wouldn't hurt anybody and I'd be set."

"It never works that way, Ralph."

"I know. I didn't think mentioning your name would mean they'd send someone after you." He slowed his chewing and stared at his plate with a thick swallow. "Then someone said these thugs were in the building and you weren't answering your door when I went to check and I…I was so freaked that I'd gotten you killed."

He almost had, but Len didn't want to make things worse by telling him that. "Sam and Rosa would have fed Santini the info I was alive within a day anyway. What matters is that you're in deep with both sides and your only way out is by letting me take care of Santini through those detectives. Hopefully, after that, Jesse will be so pleased to have the competition out of the way, he'll listen when I ask him to forget you ever did errands for him. But you stay low and you stay safe, you hear me? You go to school, you come home, that's it."

"Totally." Ralph nodded rapidly again as he glanced up. "I was thinking about what you said, Snart, really, about other options, but they wouldn't let me stop."

"It's a lot harder to get out than in, kid. But I'll take care of it."

"You're the best, Snart. I'll make this up to you." Ralph smiled brightly. "I promise."

"The only way I need you making this up to me is by getting out of here someday anyway other than by heading to Iron Heights."

"Yeah, of course!" Ralph laughed, the way only a teenager in an unknowingly deadly situation could, then turned to Barry as he shoved in more fries. "You are a good influence, Barry, but he's always been like this."

Barry had been annoyingly quiet through it all, watching Len with a knowing smile. "He has trouble believing that, and I think you have very much in common."

"Yeah? Well, save the doe-eyed glances for him. I'm spoken for."

"You are not," Len said.

"Ralph, perhaps you should pursue someone closer to your own age," Barry tried, since they all knew they were talking about Carla.

"Snart said that once I'm eighteen, the age difference won't matter."

"That is not what I said, I said…" Len sighed. Ralph was hopeless. "Aren't there any girls at school you like?"

"Sure, but…" The smile dropped from his face again. "They all laugh at me."

"Laugh?" Barry repeated with brotherly concern.

"The crappy pick-up lines might have something to do with it."

"I don't sound like that around them!" Ralph defended. "I just…kinda fumble and don't know what to say."

While Carla, being her wonderful, motherly self, had never made Ralph feel like he was a gangly, geeky goofball, so of course he'd fallen for her.

"Would you like to practice?" Barry said. "You could pretend we are each one of the girls you fancy, and if you say the wrong thing, we can lead you in a better direction."

"Really?" Ralph brightened before instantly deflating again. "I don't know, Snart's tried that before."

"Ah, but I think your problem is trying too hard to woo when first you need to befriend." Barry took on an air of authority, maybe because he'd succeeded in wooing Len. "A friend will not laugh at you. A friend will make you feel comfortable enough to be yourself and express how you feel. Do you have any girl friends? Or boys, I suppose."

"Girls," Ralph affirmed, though without any of the reflexive disgust someone might have responded with when Len was that age. "And not really, I guess."

"Then we shall start there."

Barry was a good influence, on everyone and everything in Len's life. They let Ralph play hookie for another hour to help him forget his mess with the families and focus on romantic troubles instead. Then Len pushed him in the direction of the high school and threatened to call to make sure he showed up, but Ralph swore he'd be good.

He would be, Len hoped. Better than he'd ever been.

"Are you sure about this, Len?" Barry turned to him on the way home.

He knew Barry meant what he'd promised the detectives. "Don't tell Axel. Not 'til it's over. If it doesn't work out, I don't want him to get hurt. If it does, then we'll come clean."

"Okay. I trust you."

Len just hoped that trust wasn't misplaced.

XXXXX

Maybe Barry had banished more monsters than his own reflection in Len's subconscious when he sang that night, because the tides had been changing ever since and he saw only hope on the horizon.

Len was getting restless again, however, as the days passed and no word came from Axel of the meeting between the other snitches and Vincent Santini. When they did see Axel, it was for social reasons, which Barry preferred, but he wondered how the Santini rendezvous would play out.

Thankfully, Axel finding out Barry's nature had only strengthened their bond, and the lessons of sign language continued. Axel was very dedicated to learning and was making notable progress.

"You and Hartley are growing closer then?" he asked during one of their lessons as they sat facing each other on Len's sofa.

"Actual conversations are definitely the right direction," Axel said. "And they're friendly too. Like he asks questions sometimes instead of just grunting and nodding, wanting to know my opinion and interests. Just a little longer and I'll be ready to ask him out. It's gonna be amazing too coz I'm gonna use everything you taught me. Hopefully, he'll be so stunned, he won't remember to tell me to 'get lost'."

"Oh, I am sure he will not respond that way. He will say…" Barry signed the rest, and Axel giggled as he understood—You are my heart's desire too.

"I hope so. Hey, call my cell, Scarlet. I chose the perfect ringtone for you the other day."

Barry did so, and the theme from Jaws began to play from Axel's pocket. He laughed heartily, but Barry could only feign a smile, not wanting Axel to know that the joke was more apt than he realized.

Len, sitting at the table fixing a microwave, was less amused, though his cheeks seemed a bit flush after the song finished for some reason.

"Done," he called when he caught Barry staring at him and patted the side of the microwave. "Hey, Axel, think you can drop this at Roy's place downstairs so Barry and I can head out? We're gonna be late."

"Late? Where you going?"

"Len will not tell me," Barry spoke up. "He says it is a surprise."

"I bet I know then." Axel grinned. "Galaxy?"

"Yep."

"Galaxy?" Barry parroted.

"You'll see when we get there."

Barry loved surprises. Or at least he believed he did since he had never had one before. Len clearly wanted distraction as the week came to a close, claustrophobic from staying in so often, and donned his hat and glasses as they headed onto the streets after dark on a path he seemed to know well.

"Most people would use a car, but Axel and I always cheated a little since we never had one or much cash. If you don't mind a little criminal activity?"

Barry was far too excited to say he did, unsure where Len was leading them until they reached a back alley and a fire escape that Len began to climb. Barry followed. Only when they reached the top and Len walked to the edge of the roof did Barry realize that beyond the building was a cleverly-hidden outdoor movie screen.

A drive-in with a vintage sign exclaiming Galaxy Theater,and they had the best seats.

"When I heard they were playing Princess Bride, I figured we had to, since I wasn't sure if you'd ever seen—"

"I have not!" Barry rushed to Len's side, grasping his arm and bringing his hand down to lace their fingers together. "But I have always wanted to. It is referenced in so many other films. It is a happy story, yes? A love story?"

"One of the best." Len smiled at him in that half-crooked but adoring way, accepting Barry's contact like he did from few others. "You'll love it."

Little did Barry know that Len had stashed sodas in his jacket pockets and a box of Milk Duds he had procured from the store a few days back. They sat on the ledge of the roof, feet dangling, with the perfect view of the screen and all the people in their cars below. The audio was loud enough echoing up to them that they had no trouble hearing, but there were subtitles as well to be sure everyone could clearly understand even if they were far away.

This was much better than watching from the water, especially with Len beside him. Barry was riveted by the film, the humor, the cleverness of it all, and the romance—oh, what a romance, even with every obstacle in their way. The eels were not Barry's favorite, but the rest was perfect, every moment of sharing this with Len and leaning into his body whenever something startling happened.

It was fun watching everything close down after the film ended as well and the people started to drive away. A few noticed them up on the roof and waved, to which Barry happily waved back, even if they had cheated and not had to pay for a ticket.

Their hands were clasped between them, enjoying the evening together, the stars however dimmed by being in the city and Len warm against Barry's side with an air of wonder about them after watching a fairytale with a perfect ending kiss.

"Are you sure you want this?" Len asked him softly, not looking at him but keeping close. "Me, I mean?"

"Why do you continue to ask that? My answer is not going to change."

"So much could go wrong, I just…I want you to be sure." Len sighed as though he had never believed in happy endings for himself, but Barry was determined to have one now that he had banished the plague of his true form from Len's nightmares.

It must have slipped in through their connection somehow, from Barry's subconscious into Len's, but it was gone now, and Barry meant it that he would never allow Len to see it again.

"Did you ever hear the line, a bird may love a fish but where would they live?"

"I have," Barry said, "and it has an easy answer: the fish must grow wings and the bird fins so they may live anywhere they wish."

"It's not always that easy, Barry."

"For us, it could be, if I am able to keep my legs."

"Able to?" Len repeated, pulling away to look at Barry.

What a fool he was for letting that slip when he could not tell Len more. "Forgive me, I…I cannot explain. The spell prevents me from giving you details about the pact." Even that much was difficult for Barry to say, but if he tried to explain more, the words would vanish on his tongue, unable to flow past it.

"You could lose them?" Len asked with the dawning fear Barry had been holding at bay.

"I hope not."

"I can't grow a fin, you know."

Barry smiled because Len did not know how wrong he was. "Magic makes many things possible," he said, and while his left hand remained tangled with Len's, he reached his right for Len's face and drew him into a kiss.

A honk from below startled them, one of the last cars leaving seeing them and honking twice more with smiling and laughing faces inside. Barry and Len both laughed as they broke apart, that rare, lovely flush in Len's cheeks again.

"Hey, umm, I think I'm ready to try—"

Len's phone cut him off, sounding with Axel's ringtone—the only reason Len had not put it on silent.

"Yeah?' Len answered, and Barry was close enough that he could hear Axel on the other end.

"I got a time and location."

"Where?"

"East docks, that old Kord warehouse that's been out of commission."

"When?" Len asked with hardening resolve.

"Tomorrow night."

XXXXX

The evening of their movie date ended with restless sleep that had nothing to do with nightmares. Getting through the day proved even more difficult, time passing like a glacier, but when evening rolled around again, it grew much worse.

Barry did not think he could feel the sort of fear he used to experience when being chased by his brethren simply by waiting to watch a group of humans meet in a warehouse. Perhaps it was Len's fear feeding into his own, he was not sure, but he worried as Len worried that this would not go as simply as they hoped.

If it went well, the detectives could do what Len did not wish to—take care of Vincent Santini. But it was not the same as killing him, and James Jesse might not like that when they spoke with him later.

"It'll be fine," Len said as he had many times already, maybe more to himself than to Barry. "Stay quiet and follow my lead like always. I know this warehouse and how to get there without being seen. We just have to hope it stays that way."

Barry had never seen Len like this. He was not the type to outwardly show if he was frightened, but he kept wringing his hands, his gestures more pronounced. He was scared. For himself and for Barry.

The docks were familiar to Barry now but the route Len took them on was winding and well before the scheduled time for Sam, Rosa, and Santini to meet. They would need to stay hidden and wait for some time, something Barry and Len were both used to.

They talked hushed, even though Barry checked often in every direction around them for anyone nearing the warehouse. They were upstairs on the second level hidden behind a well-placed beam. If someone did come up the stairs, they could get out easily before anyone was upon them. A few times Barry hissed that a handful of people were nearby, but so far, none were the ones they wanted.

Then the appointed time drew closer, and once again Barry nodded after sending out his vibrations, sensing two people coming from one direction and five from another, before voices and a bustle of movement alerted them that these were, in fact, the people they were waiting for.

Barry took out his phone and began recording so Len could message the detectives, though he had told Barry he would wait until he was certain all of the right players were in attendance.

Vaguely, Barry recognized Sam's voice from the club that day and assumed the female voice to be Rosa's. The only other person who spoke was Vincent Santini judging by Len's reaction.

"One thing before we start," Santini said, and there was a scuffle, like someone being forced forward, and a far too familiar voice calling out:

"Hey!"

Len froze as he was about to alert the detectives, eyes wide with dread at the sound of Ralph's voice.

"This little rat has been seen with Snart a few too many times. Not sure I trust his loyalty anymore."

"He's nothing to get your panties in a twist over, Vinny," Rosa purred, though she sounded half bored and uncaring. "Just some brat. I thought he was the one who told you Snart was alive before we could."

"He was, and now he's trying to get out. But you see, kid, once you're in, you're in."

Len shivered in front of Barry.

"But if you're out….well. Sam, Rosa, why don't you do the honors to set the right example."

In the split second before more could be said, Len put his phone in his pocket without messaging for help and stood to step out from behind their hiding spot.


TBC...