Len and Barry face the gamut of Lisa and the Legends, while both feel like they're losing the battle to be patient for what they really want.


Len feigned nonchalance at this unexpected turn of events that either Mick or Lisa or both had been well aware of and decided not to give him a head's up.

Unlike Barry and Ray, Sara fit in seamlessly at Saints and Sinners in jeans, a dark T-shirt, and a leather jacket. She had an effortless femininity about her that made it easy for the untrained to mistake her for eye candy. The same fools made that mistake with Lisa. But anyone with a brain could see how both women carried themselves like they were right at home in this life, and if Sara hadn't been wearing the jacket, they'd have seen the toned muscle that proved how powerful her punches could be.

Len had purposely taken a seat with some space between him and Mick, assuming Lisa would fill the gap, which she did now, but since Barry had sat on Len's other side, that left the sixth seat open, ripe for Sara to plant herself between Barry and Ray. The kid's lack of any poker face was in full form.

"Barry, right?" Sara turned to him, since Len hadn't immediately responded about the mission. "We've never officially met, but I've heard…quite a bit about you," she said leadingly. Like all of those gathered here, she knew he was The Flash.

"Uhh, yeah, I...I knew your sister," he fumbled right into the sore spot and cringed when he realized how much of his foot he'd just eaten. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He took a breath and closed his eyes before attempting once more, "I'm really sorry about what happened."

The former League of Assassins member kept her emotions in check better than Len expected, considering he knew how inconsolable he'd be if it had been Lisa who'd been a casualty. "Me too. Sorry about your dad," she said with earnest sympathy. "Lonely business sometimes, huh?"

"Wouldn't say that," Mick muttered with a muted grin, like he knew he was smoking near a powder keg and couldn't wait to watch it blow.

Len refrained from kicking him under the table.

"Sara was telling me about your adventures, Lenny," Lisa piped in, and damn it, there was a reason he'd kept Lisa in his room when they were protecting her from the Time Masters on the Waverider, something he was eternally grateful she didn't remember. "Sounds like loads of fun with not nearly enough ladies along for the ride."

"Certainly not for my tastes," Sara said, sharing a smile with Lisa that left Len even more conflicted. The two of them together was a dangerous enough combination without them wooing each other, though he could tell they were only purposely riling him.

"How come you tapped Mick for that trek across time and not your own sister?" Lisa pouted.

"Which is something I'll never get used to, by the way," Raymond said with his own smile thrown Lisa's way—definitely not, "you being Snart's sister."

"Raymond," Len said with as much sickly sweetness as he could muster to make Ray sweat. He didn't interfere with Lisa's love life usually, she could handle herself, but he didn't appreciate being ganged up on like this. "Trust me, Lisa and I are quite a bit alike. It's why we're so close."

"Lenny," Lisa folded her arms primly, "you didn't answer my question."

Len sighed. He would have taken Lisa on the Waverider, but he feared her coming along for something so unpredictable. Besides, Rip had made the initial selection, Len simply hadn't argued and had persuaded Mick to join him because he needed backup, someone he could trust. He never worried about Mick the way he couldn't shake worrying over his sister, even if she was grown and fully capable of protecting herself.

Yet when push came to shove, he'd treated Mick the same way. Of course he had. Mick had been dismantled and tortured and used for decades, centuries, enough to make a normal person go mad, and it was all Len's fault. Because he'd been shown the glow of a treasure he'd never thought he could have and wondered if he could steal it, capture it and claim it for his own—a better life, a different life. Instead, he'd given his best friend over to a life worse than death.

Half of Len hadn't feared that Mick, any version of Mick, would kill him when he allowed his old friend to beat him to a pulp in the brig, hoping he could reach him. The other half hadn't cared if he was wrong, because if that's how things had to end, he deserved it.

"Our dear Captain Hunter was unpleasant enough company without me bringing along the whole family," Len said, pressing two fingers to his temple to stave off another headache like the one Mick had created yesterday.

"You okay?" Barry, kind-hearted fool that he was, continued to bare them both open to the raging elements around them by reaching over and touching Len's hand.

When Len turned to him, to that genuine concern for his wellbeing despite everything, he wanted to cup Barry's face and kiss him again.

Instead, he gave a short nod, though the simple act of not jerking away seemed to draw everyone's attention before Len could clear his throat.

"Now that we're all well acquainted and through with the pleasantries," he said shortly, "can we move on to more recent events?"

"Yeah, what's the down-low?" Raymond said, excitable as ever to play hero. "I think what Mick was trying to explain earlier with his yo-yo analogy means the two of you can't be away from each other, right? Must make bathroom breaks awkward," he laughed in the way only someone who assumes his jokes are always funny can laugh.

Lisa was the only one who snorted, while Barry's face turned the shade of the ketchup bottle on the table and Len shot Raymond a glare.

"Wait, seriously?" he took their silence for validation. "Coz I was just kidding."

"No, Raymond, not seriously," Len deadpanned. "But if there's a merit badge for emotional maturity, I'll be sure to let the Scouts know yours needs to be revoked." There was that sour expression Len was so good at evoking from the sunshine kid. "Now pay attention, because the important bit of info here is that Barry and I have to stay within a certain radius—bathroom breaks notwithstanding—or after a ten-minute time lapse, my heart stops."

Mick took another swig of beer while Lisa squirmed in her seat, leaving Sara and Ray to have more visceral responses.

"Now you're joking." Sara glanced between them.

"'Fraid not."

"Being away from Barry gives you a heart attack?" Ray exclaimed. "That's awful. I mean, not awful having to be around Barry, though maybe more awful for you two since you hate each other."

"We don't hate each other," Len snapped, perhaps more sharply than intended considering he pulled everyone's attention again and he had no plans of going into further detail with any of them. Naturally, Barry's eyes slid his way like he was judging Len for keeping the 'love' portion to himself again, but the last thing he wanted was to give Barry a platform to keep denying him. "If we hated each other, either I'd be in jail or he'd be an ice sculpture."

Barry muffled a laugh and Len allowed himself to enjoy how easily he could affect the kid's mood even amid disaster.

"What the focus should be on now is catching the responsible party for our predicament—Roy Bivolo." Len flicked his eyes around the table. "Even more important is Alexa Marcos, the one signing his checks."

"Who you implied was a place," Sara said with a smug tilt of her head.

"She was once a destination," Mick grumbled.

"Mick."

"Oh really?" Sara let out a surprised chuckle. "Didn't want to admit you had a past, Leonard? I think I could have handled it."

Len's stomach flipped the way it used to whenever his and Sara's eyes met with playful banter volleying between them, but that pleasant flutter turned tumultuous when he caught sight of the tension in Barry's jaw. "Embarrassing enough how she set us up to fail on that job without admitting I was duped by a lover."

"You know what happened with Alexa?" Barry glanced to his left, holding his hands in his lap and wringing his fingers like he wished he had something to clutch. "Or about the job at least?"

"Leonard told me on the Waverider," she said, wheels spinning in her head, Len could tell, as a calculating look overtook her features the more she watched Len and Barry. Eventually, her gaze settled on Len again. "Though I suppose I don't know how much of that was true."

"It was all true, I just neglected to mention that Alexa walks and talks and betrays all on her own."

"When did he tell you?" Barry asked instead of letting the matter drop. This was the world's most awkward dinner party, and it did not help that Barry had absolutely no chill.

"It was do or die, the ship was being boarded and we didn't even know it yet—but Leonard knew. Said he had a sixth sense about it, just like he had on The Alexa Job." Sara recounted the story as Len had told it to her and when she finished, Barry turned to Len with honest questioning.

"Where does the real Alexa fit in? She got you onto the job?"

"She did." Len looked at Mick who was frowning into his beer, but he must have felt Len's eyes on him because he waved a hand to say he didn't care if Len spilled the rest. "But it was personal before professional. Mick and I met her separately but didn't know it. Told us she didn't want anything public so we'd keep quiet and not spill the beans about our new gal to each other."

"You were both dating her?" Barry gaped.

"Keep in mind this was twenty years ago so we were younger than you and just as naïve."

Finally, Barry cracked a smile, his usual fond exasperation for Len.

"When she came to us with a job, we each thought we had a secret about the girl looking to make it big. It was our first job not playing second string or lookout. Getting it done right was going to take time to plan, but it was all ours. Between the three of us, we worked out every last detail. When the heist got close, Alexa laid the groundwork for us to find out the night before it all went down that we were both seeing her. Almost tore each other's heads off, and oh how she played us then too."

"Had me convinced with that sob story," Mick slammed his beer down, looking annoyed that it was empty now. "Said she hadn't meant to two-time or lead us along, but couldn't choose. What a load a bull. And we bought every word." Raymond looked particularly interested and sympathetic for Mick's sake as he continued, "Said she needed time to think but didn't want anything to ruin the heist we'd worked so hard to pull together."

"What we didn't know," Len picked up the story again, "was that she had another crew set to hit the same place just before we got there and called the police. Figured we'd be too distracted by each other and what was going on with her to suspect anything. The idea being we'd go down for the heist red-handed, even without any loot. Easy to pin on us since we'd been planning it, and cops wouldn't keep looking for anyone else once they had their perps. Alexa would get away clean. Probably slept with the B squad too and played them the same way.

"But when we got there, something felt off." Len held Barry's gaze, hoping that hearing the story in full would temper some of the nausea in his expression after learning about one of Len's greatest mistakes. "Mick and I were tense, sure, but once we'd calmed down, we knew better than to take that with us into the job. That feeling in my gut wouldn't go away though, and I started thinking about how Alexa might have set us up.

"When I told Mick, he was skeptical but decided to trust me. We high-tailed it, made it out just before the cops showed. Alexa still got away with her other crew and the loot, but the cops were out looking now, making it harder for them to move. We heard later how they didn't find anything in the warehouse, so we knew Alexa had played us even before we started to hear murmurs about the other team. Turns out once she met up with her fence, she turned those other boys in to take the heat off her while the loot circulated. Alexa played everyone and we were hardly a blip in her plan."

Len felt for the ring with his thumb rubbing along the back of his pinky, but he wasn't wearing it today. He hadn't wanted to wear it after seeing Alexa—after Barry had become a fixture in his home.

"And you kept a memento?" Sara asked, trained eye catching the way his fingers had moved.

"Lessons learned," Len said, pulling his hand into a fist. "I prefer not to forget the important ones."

"Memento?" Barry asked, ever curious, but they'd done enough caring and sharing for one day.

"Some other time."

"Just one question," Sara said before Len could turn the conversation back to the matter at hand. She rested her elbows on the table, hands arched and fingers laced, and smiled cryptically. "How long of a play was it?"

Months. Almost a year. Alexa had been around while Len and Mick were doing odd jobs and running interference for the mob and other small timers. She'd picked them out as the perfect targets for her plan—young and stupid but still promising players.

"Long enough," he said out loud.

There was too much history here, past and present with Barry in the middle. Len could see in the kid's eyes how much he was convincing himself that clearly Len's affections lay elsewhere, more with Alexa when he was young and Sara now than with Barry. But that wasn't true. Len wanted Barry more than he'd ever wanted either of those powerful, beautiful, dangerous women, and the real clincher was that Barry might actually want him back.

"She must be a special kinda lady to have conned both of you," Raymond said, looking from Len to Mick with sincere surprise. He knew better than to underestimate either of them after seeing them in action.

"But I guess you weren't thinking with the heads on your shoulders," Sara added with a grin.

"Boys in their twenties seldom do," Lisa fluttered her eyes at Barry, which prompted Len to knock a boot against her ankle, and she knocked him right back.

Barry was turning scarlet again, hunkering down like he could hide his lanky form by slouching, thinking everyone's eyes were on him—and for the most part, they were.

Aside from Ray's. "Hard to imagine you'd have the same type," he said, jovial and oblivious as always.

"Doesn't happen often." Mick started to get that treacherous twist to his smile. "Alexa was more Snart's type than mine. He likes his dolls pretty, tough, and who don't take his shit."

"Sounds right," Barry and Sara overlapped, making Barry redden further as the assassin's eyes darted to his face.

"Not that I have any insight or anything!" he tried to cover lamely, searching about the table for a drink or food he could disappear into, but none of it was his yet. "It just…sounds…like Len—Snart." The kid was a train wreck when it came to subterfuge.

"Am I missing something?" Ray finally picked up on the tension in the air.

"You'd have to have a brain to lose one, Raymond." Len stared at him across the table.

Sulking in that 'somehow still smiling' way he had, Ray said, "You know I have multiple PhDs."

"And yet." Len gestured at the man in general.

Mick snickered, enjoying the show far too much beside Lisa. Even Sara seemed amused as much as she was curious, but while Raymond huffed only to glance at Barry and at last seemed to recognize why the conversation was so awkward, the Scarlet's Speedster's rosy cheeks were looking a little green.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Barry pushed out of his chair. "I'll be right back."

He almost gave himself away with how quickly he made for the bar, but without an actual kick of lightning, Len was able to dash out of his own chair and catch him, snagging Barry's wrist halfway to the front. Saints and Sinners didn't tend to be busy for the lunch rush, so there weren't any patrons at the nearby tables to overhear them. Still, Barry spun around Len like had him cornered and was trying to steal his wallet.

"What?"

"Relax, Scarlet. I didn't know she'd be—"

"It doesn't matter," Barry said, bursting with the mayhem of his emotions. He calmed the second he snapped though, reining himself in for fear of making a scene. "You're still lying. Still avoiding the whole truth. We have to tell the others you're whammied into loving me."

"Or that I'm just in love with you," Len said, expecting the curl of Barry's lips that proved he still doubted him. "Lisa knowing is enough. For the others, it isn't their business."

"You mean now that they think we're sleeping together?" Barry hissed.

It was Barry's pain that brought Len pain, but his anger didn't exactly offer joy. Len wanted to rekindle the ease at the edges of their interactions, the shared smiles and blushes and the way they hovered close even when both made a concerted effort to stay away. "We are sleeping together," he smirked.

For a moment, Barry looked so angry, not at Len but at himself for the crack of a smile that slipped in at Len daring to make a joke. "I hate you," he said, but it came out affectionate and tinged with laughter.

The words were the wrong ones but the connotation made Len smile wider. "I'm not lying, Barry. I'm keeping some of the truth to myself because I'm selfish and…and maybe I don't like hearing you deny me every time I pour my heart out."

The smile dropped from Barry's face and his slew of emotions gave way to guilt.

"You wanna spare me excess pain?" Len grasped his hand even though the kid tensed at the contact and looked around like someone might see them, but everyone was either behind Len's back or Barry's, leaving the space between them sacred. "Ignore them. And if you're worried about Sara, don't be. Yeah, I was interested. Part of me still is." He gripped Barry's hand tighter, anticipating he'd pull away, but Barry's eyes sparkled green and tentative right back at him. "Just like part of you still has feelings for Miss West."

That caused Barry's gaze to drift, but Len wasn't upset. He knew the hand he'd been dealt.

"Doesn't mean Sara has any claim on me," he said. "Doesn't mean I want her more than you and don't know it yet because of Bivolo."

"Len," Barry tried to snatch his hand back finally, "we're not having this conversation now."

"Then we're having it later." Len stepped closer and held Barry's hand to his chest, causing a lovely scarlet to dance along the boy's cheekbones. "I would never expect you to turn around after years of wanting the same girl and feel all of that for me suddenly. I'd like it, but I don't expect it. Here I am telling you that you are everything I'd ever want, and even though you don't believe me, you're still bothered by a woman who betrayed me twenty years ago and one I've never even been with.

"It's messy, I know. No way around that. But have a little faith, kid. For once in my sorry life, I do. Because you kissed me this time," he said like a secret that made Barry go rigid but he didn't deny it. "And I know, when this is over, I'm gonna want those lips again."

Len half expected Barry to squeak when he raised the hand in his grasp to his lips and kissed Barry's fingertips, but all the kid did was glance around, certain someone would catch them.

Seeing the curious crew waiting for him when he turned back to the table, Len had no intention of confessing everything that was going on. He hoped more than anything that he didn't sabotage himself with the baggage weighing him down when the spell was broken. If only he could find a way to rid himself of the danger—the proximity and the pain—and keep the freedom to love Barry without flinching.

For that compromise, that gift, Len wasn't sure what he might sacrifice.


Barry felt lightheaded as he finished his trek to the bar. He did need a drink, even if the buzz only lasted a second.

"Uhh, hey, can I get another beer for Mick?" Barry assumed the bartender knew the pyro well enough to remember what he'd ordered. "The same for me and a shot of Jameson. Please," he added when the man regarded him with steel in his gaze.

He was large, broad and tall, with dark skin, neatly trimmed facial hair, and a shaved head. Very scary bouncer type who could easily kick Barry's ass—if he wasn't The Flash. Though maybe that wouldn't matter with a guy like this.

"You again huh?" he said, not moving to attend to Barry's order. "Thought you were fighting last time you were in here. You make it up to him?"

"Umm," Barry floundered. The bartender remembered him from all the times he'd come here to talk to Len. He probably thought they were sleeping together too, but contrary to Len's joke, they weren't, not really. That didn't mean Barry could explain to this guy. "We weren't fighting. We just…disagreed about something. But yeah, we worked it out." Mostly, only to be replaced with entirely different grief.

"Good. Never seen Lenny with someone here more than once, unless it's Mickey or his sister." At last he moved to get the beers. He must know the Rogues especially well if he could get away with calling them 'Lenny' and 'Mickey'. "He's got a soft spot for ya. Didn't think that was possible."

"I don't…know about that," Barry said as he slid onto a stool to wait.

"When you were in here last, one of my waitresses saw you. Lenny ended up in the clink after that, but when he got out and stopped in, she asked if he was gonna look you up." He snorted as he passed one beer across the counter and started to fill the next one. "Thought you were cute. Started pestering Lenny like crazy. Normally, he's all polite charm, but when he ain't interested in talking about something, he'll let you know. He tried to shut the conversation down, but got all…can hardly believe I'm sayin' this but…flustered." He bobbed a suggestive eyebrow at Barry. "Well, as flustered as Captain Cold gets anyway. You're something all right."

It figured that Len's bartender had no qualms about the clientele he got in this place, including supervillains, but a man like him wasn't one to blow smoke, and he certainly hadn't been given any direction from Len. Lisa maybe? Mick? No, this felt too genuine, his observation that Barry was special and had been special for a while.

Barry wasn't sure if he wanted that when being stuck to Len by choice would be just as complicated as the current situation. Yet he couldn't deny the pleasant flutter and thrill in his chest hearing a surly bartender say Len got flustered talking about him before he'd ended up in Barry's living room at Christmas.

As the second beer slid over to join the first and the bartender poured Barry his shot, he risked a glance over his shoulder. The arrangement at the table had changed and a sting of jealousy yanked down the corners of Barry's mouth when he saw that Sara had scooted over to take his seat, talking huddled now with Len while Ray talked with Mick, and Lisa—shit, Lisa was headed toward Barry!

He whipped forward and accepted the shot from the bartender with near dangerous speed, downing it in one quick go. For that brief second of normalcy, the alcohol burned, and then it was gone like he'd slammed a shot of water.

"Thanks, Charles," Lisa said, sidling up to the bar and looping an arm with Barry's. "Only thinking of you and Lenny, huh? How cute."

"The other's for Mick," Barry defended, head ducked as he peeked at her eyes, similar to Len's and just as blue. "We had a tenser meeting yesterday than, well, how you and I met the day before."

"He told me as much," she said, always coy, always so seemingly sweet when you didn't know how sharp her bite could be—and her heels. "Don't take it personally. You'd know if Mick didn't like you—about two seconds before you went up in smoke. This is a good start for getting on his good side," she nodded at the beers. "Make it a round for the table, will you, Charles? I'll cover Fresh Face here."

Charles offered a corroborating smirk. "Was just about to card him too."

Barry really hated that joke.

"Relax, honey," Lisa squeezed his arm still caught in her grasp, "we're only teasing because you've got staying power and that makes you family. I don't mind Lenny robbing the cradle a little."

Her easy closeness, so different from Len—from normal Len—brought home the reality of what she was saying. Barry dropped his voice to a whisper, "Lisa, you know this isn't…"

"Real? Please," she whispered back, while Charles was distracted by filling the other beers, "Lenny might be under the influence but you've got no excuses."

How obvious was Barry being exactly? Before Bivolo's curse, he'd never even thought of Len that way—well, not with any seriousness. Just because the guy could have walked out of the pages of GQ even in his grungiest outfits didn't mean Barry was smitten. Not back then. But now he'd spent real time with Len, and all the things about his nemesis that used to make him smile seemed closer to the surface.

"I'm sorry about Sara," Lisa said. "She's fantastic, I love her already, but I didn't know she'd be coming along. Mick showed up with the others in tow. Raymond's a bit of a pill but cute at least and he means well. Mick tried to pass the buck before, but one thing he and Lenny have in common is they both like a pretty face," she spared the table a glance.

"Yeah," Barry said absently, before he realized Lisa didn't mean Sara. "Wait, what?"

"Honey," Lisa hugged his arm all the more possessively, "you didn't think Lenny was the only open-minded one on the team, did you?" Barry could only blink at her. "Pity, I think PhD Ken Doll over there is even more oblivious than you."

Now Barry had to look, and although Ray should be driving Mick nuts—he was a very chatty guy, a little holier than thou if Barry was being honest, and not the type to let someone get away with senseless villainy as the Rogues were wont to do. Mick should have set the guy's hair or leg or entire person on fire by now, but instead, occasionally he'd chuckle and didn't look as put out by his empty glass while Ray was talking at him.

Which could simply mean they had a connection, a budding friendship, however unlikely, like Len had said, but Lisa smiled like she knew what she was talking about.

Barry couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of what he was about to say, but he had to, "If you and Cisco start going out, we might convert the entire lot of Rogues by dating you."

Lisa giggled, releasing Barry's arm after another gentle squeeze. "Mmm, and what a way to go."

The humor between them was contagious. Even after earning a puncture wound in his foot the other day, Barry and Lisa had ended up like this in Len's kitchen too, talking and laughing like good friends instead of remembering that once upon a time Barry held a gun to her head. Though that wasn't nearly as strange as having a growing crush on a man who'd tried to kill him.

He frowned as he watched Len and Sara continue talking, a smirk on Len's face instead of any discomfort. "I suppose that idea still works even if Len wakes up and decides he'd rather have her," he said with a dawning sense of loss even when he didn't have anything yet.

"Like I said, sweetie," Lisa spoke with a softer tone that reminded him of Len's tender moments, "I adore Sara, and honestly I don't know how Lenny acted around her before this, but if it's any consolation, she isn't ahead of you. You and Lenny have had a few…encounters by now, I'd imagine?" She leaned in with a wicked glint in her eyes.

Was it written across Barry's face that they'd kissed less than an hour ago? With how he'd acted at the table, it probably was.

"And all they've ever shared was a kiss."

"They've kissed?" Barry erupted, far too loudly with so few people around to drown out the sound and with Charles standing there filling beers.

"Oh honey," Lisa said with the most immediate look of pity Barry had ever received, "you've got it bad, don't you?"

He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. Not for Len. Not under the circumstances. Maybe Barry was just horny and caught up in the fantasy of someone finally being devoted to him the way he'd always dreamed of. It would make a terrible sort of sense. But when he thought back on the moments when he most wanted to kiss Len, it wasn't because the thief had confessed something or acted out of character amid his obsession, but when he was just being Len, being Cold even, and Barry caught a glimpse of the man who could be both sides of the coin.

"Do you think he means it?" Barry asked without thinking, hating how Lisa's look of pity increased the second he said it. "Not all of it, obviously, I don't think he's in love with me, but…maybe? A little? Do you think he could ever…" He couldn't say it—he shouldn't want it.

"Barry," she said, which was startling since Lisa had never said his name before, "what I think—no, what I know—is that my brother doesn't go after anything he can't steal. You were untouchable. This stunt, however much it frightens me, evened the playing field. Now he knows he has a chance, whether before he just wanted to get into those tight leather pants of yours…"

Barry darted his eyes to Charles, but the bartender didn't seem to be listening.

"…or if he wanted something more even then and never entertained the idea that he could have it. You changed so much more than you realize all the way back on day one. For the better," she said, sounding so different when she dropped her persona just like Len sounded when he dropped his drawl. Then she pulled it right back on again and shrugged. "Besides, I kinda like hanging out with Team Red.

"Now come on. Charles can help us carry all these beers, can't you, sweetie?" She looked over the bar and he snagged two glasses without answering, while she grabbed two more and nodded at the waitress exiting the kitchen loaded down with plates. "Looks like our food is up anyway, and I hear you really need to eat."


True instability meant hitting another of the families right as their guards started to drop—tomorrow—and Alexa knew just who to strike.

The Dunkirks were on shaky ground with Dunkirk Junior in charge, young and impulsive as he was compared to his late father. The other families already suspected them as the culprits behind Tiffany's and the Galleria, but if they were hit next, chaos would rear its head again, opening the doors for panic, suspicion, and mistakes.

The Flash would be busy with Captain Cold at his side, giving Alexa the only ammunition she really needed. And all according to plan.

The East docks it was, Dunkirk's gunrunners, which had the added bonus of replenishing Alexa's supplies from the rookies that had been caught so far—not that that was out of plan either. She knew how the families worked, how they'd retaliate, and that meant sacrifices. Alexa hadn't ever severed ties with Central City completely. She'd just been waiting for the right homecoming, even though she never expected costumes in red and blue to be her way back in.

"Time to tap your friend, Roy," she said, looking out the balcony doors of her suite at the city below, bustling with activity and just waiting to be claimed. Peering over her shoulder at the meta human under her thumb, she gave a slow smile, and Roy echoed the expression. "Be ready for tomorrow night."

"You got it, boss."


Len tensed the moment Sara slid over to take Barry's chair, as if he didn't trust his reactions. He loved Barry, but there was something about Sara that drew him in almost as strongly as the Scarlet Speedster. Her darkness that didn't own her, her strength, her beauty, the way he let his guard down around her that was so rare, it always surprised him.

All things he could say about Barry too.

"Okay, Leonard, what's really going on?" she said as Lisa stood to approach the bar, leaving Len unable to snag a limb or piece of jacket to stop her.

At least Sara's presence meant he didn't have to make small talk with Raymond or pretend like things were normal between him and Mick when there was still so much left unsaid.

"I think we've explained enough," he said through gritted teeth and distracted attention as he followed his sister's journey only to realize how close Sara had gotten. His gaze flicked to her eyes, then aside at the rest of the table. Ray and Mick were talking amongst themselves. "When everyone's done treating this like a lunch date and calms down, we'll discuss our plan of action."

Sara leaned on the table that much closer to him. "You don't seem particularly bothered to have a white knight babysitter supernaturally attached to you, especially considering your history with The Flash. Unless there are things about that history I don't know, which isn't hard to believe given your penchant for excluding the truth."

Trained assassins were annoyingly good at reading people. "I think it goes without saying that you and I have something in common when it comes to our…proclivities," he fanned his fingers in a playful, twirling motion.

"Aside from me leaning more toward women and you leaning decidedly the other direction?" she nodded back at the bar without looking directly at Barry, though the intent was implied.

"What can I say, tight leather does it for me more than the specifics of what's underneath. Besides," he leaned into her space in kind, postures hunched, faces close, Mick and Ray ignored, "someone gave the impression that our goodbye kiss was simply that—goodbye. You changing your tune?"

The same electricity Len adored around Barry wasn't quite present, but there was still something of a tingle in the air as Sara's eyes glanced away and back again. "To be honest, I might have been persuaded. Might," she said when Len couldn't hide his grin. "After significant effort and less treachery on your part."

Len huffed and pulled back. "Sounds boring."

"Precisely the problem, Leonard. Because something I've learned when it comes to how two people work is you can't expect the other to change. You can't yearn for an ideal version of them that fits what you want." Her eyes dropped once more to the table. "Nyssa wanted me to stay in the League. I wanted her to leave it. But if she'd left just for me, she'd have been changing for me and her happiness would have taken a back seat to my desires. Relationships built on that can't last."

One of the first things Len had done when he returned home was put his ear to the ground for any buzz in the underworld. "Way I heard it through the grapevine is she dismantled the whole kit and caboodle recently—for herself, to go her own way. Yet you're sitting here instead of tracking her down."

"We aren't talking about me." Sara's blue eyes flashed to his face almost icier than his own.

"You brought it up."

"To point out that he," she raised both eyebrows, "has always seen the good in who you already are. He wouldn't change you, but I know you want to be happier, Leonard—for you, not to appease him. If you didn't, you wouldn't have gotten on that ship just because he believes in you, and you wouldn't have listened every time I tried to do the same favor you did for me—convincing you to stick to the path you chose for yourself."

She wasn't wrong, about any of it, but that path Len had tried to walk was a bright and scary one, with all his scars laid bare. She'd helped him face that head-on, the whole crew had in their own ways, but Barry by his side made it easier than ever to stay the course. Len had been terrified when he left the Waverider, terrified of facing the unknown and where his choices might lead him. Now that fear was overshadowed by something better, something good.

"You saying you approve of me and Flash getting cozy and picking out curtains?" he smirked.

A smile tugged at Sara's lips. "I'm saying…sometimes you're not so bad, Leonard, but I have it on good authority that Barry likes you even when you're insufferable, and that is far too often for me. Although that kilt," she leaned in especially close, "almost convinced me otherwise. I hope you kept it."

Len chuckled. He knew he liked Sara Lance, never doubted it, but now he remembered why without feeling like he was betraying his love for Barry. The charge between him and Sara was something very different. "Don't think you'll ever catch me in it with bare legs. My skin is for private eyes only."

Sara laughed as she sat back. "I was wondering why you kept your robe so tightly closed on that mission. Who'd have guessed you were just shy."

"Finally. Ya always this slow, Spark Plug?" Mick pulled their attention as Barry and Lisa returned to the table with Janet close behind and Charles assisting with extra beers that perked up Mick's scowly disposition.

"I was getting you a beer, Mick," Barry said. "Then Lisa decided everyone could use one."

Len could only hope that the worst damage his sister had done was splurge on alcohol for the table. Barry seemed more at ease though. He almost took Sara's old spot, but she rose to offer him his previous one. A hint of awkwardness and jealousy spiked in his posture but released when he sat and shared a friendly smile with Sara that he soon passed to Len.

Somehow, disaster had molded into success. Story of Len's life, really.

It was a lunch date in strange, mixed company, as they drank and ate and talked shop. Mick had already checked on their 'friends' from Ferris Air. Mardon was off on his own, out of Iron Heights again. Shawna was MIA but shouldn't be hard to track, since Len knew the alias she'd been using as she finished up night classes toward becoming an RN.

"Surprised, Scarlet?" Len turned at Barry's shocked scoffing. "Maybe you should have talked to your inmates more instead of throwing away the key." A little ribbing was good for the kid, especially concerning that awful prison.

Mick and Ray would make it a priority to track down Shawna, since her powers could be invaluable if she was willing to lend a hand. Mardon was too much of a wild card, but that was only more reason to make sure he stayed out of Alexa's hands.

"You could also try Hartley," Barry said.

"Rathaway? Thought he played for your team?"

"Oh. Right." Barry snapped his mouth shut like he'd honestly expected Pied Piper to be one of Len's Rogues. Len certainly wouldn't turn his nose up at the idea, but he'd heard the kid had gone straight—more or less.

"Are you trying to help fill my coffers, kid, coz you're welcome to join the ranks too."

"Not happening. You'll have to handle your thefts without a speedster."

"But it's so much more fun when you crash the party. Nice to know you're giving me leave for that next heist though."

"I didn't mean—" Barry cut off when Len snickered. "Very funny."

It really was, how easy they could brush aside the things that should have formed a wedge between them.

"What about Mistress Mastermind?" Ray said the name with zeal like the nerd he was. "Sara could keep an eye out for her around the city."

Sara was willing, but Len explained that Alexa didn't let any pictures of her circulate, which they'd confirmed when they tried to track her using the police database and any other search engines they could think of. But she did prefer high class accommodations, even back in her twenties when they'd had nothing and squatting was more common, so she was likely hiding in plain sight.

"What's she look like?" Barry asked, without the trepidation he'd carried when asking about Alexa before. "If we can get a pencil and paper, I can draw a quick mugshot."

Len was intrigued and asked Janet to acquire the items. Once Barry had his supplies and Janet made scarce again, the kid set to work at Flash speed, listening carefully to Len's descriptions. He tweaked a few things here and there when Len got a look at his progress, but once the picture was finished, it bore a striking resemblance to the real thing.

"Always pulling out new talents, Scarlet. What else are you hiding, I wonder?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Barry teased right back. Win—definitely a win.

"Are you two always like this?" Ray said with his usual lacking tact, reminding Len that he and Barry were not, in fact, alone.

"Yes," Lisa and Mick said before Len could reply, causing Sara to snicker.

"Oh." Ray glanced around the table, maybe more oblivious than Len had thought. After all, he hadn't noticed the way Mick looked at him yet either. "You've fought each other so many times, I figured you'd bicker more. It's nice to know you're friendly. Product of spending so much time together lately?" he asked brightly.

"Something like that," Len said.

"Lenny saves the old married routine for Mick," Lisa put in. "As for my contribution to this ragtag team," she went on before Len could counter that assessment, "I wasn't getting my nails done this morning. I got a line on where some of those men in custody were last seen, maybe even where they were recruited from. Could narrow our search area."

"That's awesome!" Barry sat up, maybe a little too eagerly to shift the conversation's focus again. "Joe's working that angle too. You should touch base with him. I can give you his number."

Lisa blinked at him. "You're going to give me a detective's personal phone number?"

"Why not?" Barry shrugged, confident but also challenging with his smile. "I can trust you guys, right?"

The Rogues shared a moment of silent comradery like they'd caught an easy mark, and Lisa leaned across the table. "I'll at least promise not to abuse it until after we've caught our man. And woman. But if we're exchanging numbers, I don't suppose you'd supply me with one extra?"

"Lisa," Len chided, "you could just ask Ramon for his number and I'm sure he'd gladly give it."

"I know. But this would be more fun," she grinned.

Barry chuckled, mirroring Lisa by leaning over the table. "Promise you won't use Joe's number for anything nefarious, and I'll give you Cisco's."

"Deal. How nefarious I get with him is off the table."

Another laugh and shake of Barry's head, but he still gave Lisa what she wanted.

It was the start of a good plan, covering all their bases with their extended crew and leaving Barry and Len to check in with Caitlin about Logue and wait to hear back from Julian.

Len even pulled Mick aside at one point to ask, "You gonna keep torturing me then, or are we good?"

"You tell me," Mick stood up straighter. "Ya gonna keep bein' an idiot?"

The spark for a fight was always close at hand with Mick—sparks were his specialty, after all. Len released his friend's arm and held up both hands. "There's no one I'd rather have watching my back, Mick, or Lisa's," he said, honestly, before smirking and nodding at Raymond. "Even if you're leaning toward letting somebody else watch yours."

"Hn," Mick huffed. "Haircut's okay."

Len cocked his head at him.

"Don't go playin' hero again and tell him shit," Mick barked. "He ain't interested but he's less annoying than you and prettier company. You just enjoy that Red thinks the pretty one is you."

They'd be okay, in time, but Len still worried that Mick had one too many ghosts haunting him than he'd had before.

At least now all they had to do was split up to do their parts for finishing this mess and hope that one or several of them struck gold.


After parting with Lisa and the Legends, Len and Barry checked in at STAR Labs. Caitlin was still meeting with Logue at the hospital, but she returned shortly after their arrival.

He was definitely affected by Bivolo. All the right parts to his brain lit up, but it was sporadic compared to Len, without a firm hold, hence his erratic behavior. Since she could confirm the affects were meta human related, the plan was for her to touch base with Julian the next day. Unfortunately for Logue, the hypnosis wasn't any easier to break than Len's and would take time to treat.

Len was less than enthusiastic about becoming a guinea pig again for the rest of the afternoon, but working on his suggestibility required consistency, Caitlin said.

"Any success with you could help us treat Logue too. Who knows what secrets you have hidden because of Bivolo."

What Len had hidden wasn't his main concern so much as what he might lose.

The biggest win for the day wasn't freeing him of Bivolo's control, however, that was still out of reach, but having a firm starting point with their growing team and Cisco handing him and Barry a pair of goggles each before they left. Len's were identical to what he wore with his Cold costume, but Barry's were shaped to fit over the eye openings in his cowl and red to match.

"Unlike normal goggles," Cisco explained, "these should deflect any attempt Bivolo might make to whammy you again if you run into him."

"Doesn't help me much now," Len said, even as he admired Cisco's handiwork.

"Somehow I doubt you want him to change your programming to clucking like a chicken, Cold," Cisco shot back, but his phone rang before Len could continue the banter, and when he frowned at the unrecognized number, Len tugged on Barry's arm.

"See you tomorrow, kid. And thanks," he said, dragging Barry away just as the engineer answered the call and nearly yelped Lisa's name.


How it was already Tuesday tomorrow, Barry had no idea. The days were long and yet sped by, leaving him exhausted and hungry but also relieved to be somewhere other than home, where Joe and Wally's presence made him feel like he should participate in family time instead of sequestering himself in his room.

Of course, while Len was a different sort of company, he was still company, and Barry really needed alone time or he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions soon.

Len didn't push for the conversation he said they would get to later, but while Barry thought they'd shaken off the tension between them, being back at Len's apartment meant they were alone for the first time since the alley. When Barry had kissed Len. And Len kissed him back. And they'd been close to kissing a third time before Logue interrupted them.

Lisa had been so…nice, really, and supportive at the bar. Even Sara didn't seem so bad. Len didn't appear enamored with her and she didn't seem to be vying for his attention, so maybe that had turned out okay too. But none of it changed that the feelings that mattered were Len's, and only he could attest to what those had been before Bivolo. Barry couldn't give in to the strong pull Len had over him, not until he could be sure that Len's words and touch and want were real.

After they ate and fidgeted around each other as if static electricity shocked them every time they got close—at least for Barry; the brush of fingers on his wrist, the warmth of Len standing near him—he had to get away or he'd go mad.

"I need to, uhh…use the bathroom for a bit."

"Feeling alright?" Len asked.

"Fine. Just…ate too much," Barry lied and patted his stomach before escaping into the bathroom with a sharp, comforting click of the door.

He would have preferred to lie down. He'd have used the shower if he hadn't taken one that morning, but he didn't care for that as much. Easier cleanup but the heat tended to desensitized him, which was nice when he wanted to last but right now he just wanted to come.

Turning to face the door, he braced himself with one hand and undid his slacks with the other. His skin was warm and he was already so hard just from anticipation of finally touching himself. Whimpers formed and had to be bitten off as soon as his palm brushed the crown of his head peeking out of his boxers.

Barry was anxious, eager, desperate. With a burst of speed, he tore his pants and underwear down his thighs. That was better—the curl of his fingers, the stroke of his thumb along the head, and smooth wetness spreading up his skin. His fingers were long and thin like his limbs, but he imagined a different set touching him now, more artful and elegant, pulling tight and bringing him close to completion in only a few minutes.

Len. Barry couldn't say his name aloud, shouldn't even be thinking of him, of his hand, of his breath on the back of Barry's neck and his firm body pressed in tight behind him.

Barry's hips rocked forward in time with his strokes and the vision of his phantom partner. He could have sped through it all faster but he wanted to enjoy himself, one of the rare times he craved a normal pace even if his time was limited.

Would Len touch him if he asked? Would he drop to his knees with that wicked grin? He would but Barry couldn't ask for anything until this was over, he could only envision it, the way Len would take care of him and cater to his whims. It was a thrilling fantasy but it had to stay a fantasy—Len's hands, Len's lips parting…

"Barry."

Len's voice

…on the other side of the door!

Barry gasped and bit back a cry at suddenly pausing the pump of his hand. He was close; he was right there. "Y-Yeah…?" he said after a moment so Len wouldn't know he'd already been at the door.

"Can I do anything?"

Fuck. Barry couldn't stop now, not when Len was saying things like that; he had to finish. "I'll be out in a second," he tried to keep his voice steady as he let his hand begin to move again.

"I know why you're in there."

Shit. Shit.

"You want to be away from me."

"No." Well yes, but it wasn't like that.

"I can give you space when you need it. You can ask for that. Which I know must sound ridiculous coming through the bathroom door," he chuckled—and god, his laugh. "But you can be honest with me, Barry."

The sound of Barry's name in that voice when he was touching himself, panting, wishing

"I'd do anything for you."

—and then he came, hot and fast over his hand and up his stomach all because Len was willing to offer him everything.

Which was supposed to be the problem.

"I just…need a minute," Barry said, relieved from his release but sickened all the same.

"Okay."

Barry heard Len walk away and turned to fall against the door, his hand and skin a mess. Everything was a mess, his whole life and every minute he lived inside a lie, and he felt like the worst villain of all...for not wanting it to stop.


TBC...

^_^ I am so excited for the next few chapters.

Also, Sara and Lisa have talked about more than Lisa is letting on. How else would they each know a few extra tidbits?

Also, Sara and Len are alot like Barry and Felicity in my mind here. They're good together, they like each other, they're attracted to each other, YES, but they both want someone else more.

Oh! And Charles is canon from the comics in New 52. :-)