"Damn, just the touch of this paper says money in big capital letters."
Barry glances over his shoulder back to where Lisa is sitting on her brother's rather rundown couch and is curiously eyeing the invitation he has gotten this morning – delivered to work, of all places.
"Do you think you can take someone with you?" the blond woman turns to him with a slightly hopeful look, "Usually invitations from such fancy events extend to a plusone." "It is a s-science conference, Lisa, not some high s-society ball," he points out and turns back to his cards. He doesn't miss that Sam has been leaning back next to him to peek at them.
"S-stop that," hiss Barry and pulls his hand closer to his chest, "No ch-cheating."
"I didn't see shit," amends the other man with a grin, "Not like you are having a Pair or something."
"Seriously?! Keep your d-damn eyes onyour own c-cards, y-you j-jackass!"
Sam's only response to his angry glare is to outright laugh in his face.
"Scudder," Len, who is sitting at the end of the table on Barry's other side, gives the other man a warning look, "I've told you that I will kick your scrawny arse out if I catch you cheating one more time."
"It was just a joke, Snart. I'm not cheating, scouts honour," chuckles the other man, but he lifts his hands in defeat when Len's expressions only darkens. He turns to Barry with an annoyed huff, "Sorry, man, but you didn't make it exactly hard to take a look."
"Still d-doesn't mean you have t-to," grumbles Barry and puts his cards down as this round has very much taken its course for him. He reaches for his beer and takes a sip.
Great, twenty dollars gone for nothing because of some stupid twerp…
"Sam will pay you back the money you've put into the game so far." Barry looks over to Len in surprise, who in turn is studying his cards calmly.
"Like hell, I will," Sam glares at the other criminal.
"You will pay him back for the money you've just cost him, Scudder," Len meets Sam's eyes calmly. There is no question that he is serious about it. Barry can actually feel the air between both man turn tense with sudden hostility and for an uncomfortable moment he fears that a fight might break out.
"It i-is fine, Len," he interjects and leans a bit forward so that he gets into the other man's line of vision. "I sh-should have taken b-better care of my cards. I am playing with y-you lot after all."
"Yeah, because that's usually the reason why you lose your money," snorts Mick as he reaches for the back of salted peanuts to grab a couple. After popping them into his mouth, he grabs the zippo again, which he has briefly put down and opens it. It briefly lights up before he snaps it shut again and repeats the whole thing just a couple of seconds later. A habit Mick indulges in constantly these days and Barry has actually gotten so used to the clicking sound of the thing that he hardly picks up on it anymore – it still annoys Len to no end, though, for many reasons.
"That or because he is just plain awful at it," Lisa agrees readily from her spot on the couch, still studying the invitation. She doesn't pay Barry's dark look any mind and instead pulls the paper close to her nose and takes a sniff, which cause her eyes to grow wide in surprise and amusement.
"Barry, I think they actually put perfume on it. You think they did that with all of them or is yours supposed to be a special case?"
Lisa winks at him and Barry decides that he is definitely not going to bother answering this. He turns his attention back to the other men at the table.
Thankfully, Sam doesn't seem to find the notion to start something with Len any more appealing than Barry himself as it turns out. After having tried to outstare the other man – a task Barry has never been able to succeed at – Sam huffs once more and rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"Fine, whatever, he will get the money," he grumbles. "You jackasses have no sense of humour."
"No, your humour just sucks." Mick's smirk widens into a grin when the other man flips him off in response.
"Are you really surprised, though? You know that Snart plays favourites with his little buddy, Scudder."
Barry glances over to where Mardon is seated next to Mick and his stomach makes an uncomfortable lurch when the other man meets his eyes with a cold and intense gaze.
Barry quickly looks away again.
"You have a problem with how I do things, Mardon?"
The way the other man glares at Len in response says volumes.
"Like allowing a fucking cop to linger around?" Mark drawls and pulls his upper lip back as he does so, showing his teeth in a way that reminds Barry a bit of a dog who is about to bite.
"We had this discussion already." Len has his focus on Mark now, his posture relaxed like he doesn't consider the other man to be any threat he couldn't handle – Barry is pretty sure he does that partly also because he knows how much it annoys Mardon – but there is a slight tension around his eyes that usually means that he's growing thin on his patience.
"No, we haven't," disagrees Mark and sneers, "You just decided that he can stay and didn't give a shit what the rest of us thought about it."
"I don't mind it if the beanpole stays," shrugs Mick as he takes a pull on his bottle. Mark gives him a dirty look for it.
"Yeah, don't make an arse out of yourself, Mardon," Lisa gets up and stretches herself like a cat, the invitation still in her right hand, before she turns to the them and fixes Mark with a frown. "Barry is non-negotiable."
As if to try and get at least someone to agree with him, Mark turns to Sam, who in turn lifts his eyebrows and chuckles.
"Dude, I seriously don't wanna get mixed up in this. I don't have a problem with the kid staying around as long as he doesn't cause me any trouble."
"Barry stays," confirms Len and meets the other criminals glare calmly, "As Lisa has said, it's non-negotiable."
Mark's expression turns so angry for a moment that Barry is certain he's going to do something stupid. It's a good thing that there are no weapons allowed during their poker nights – these people are just too short tempered for their own good.
Finally, after a long and tense minute of silence, Mark barks out a laugh, which sounds angrier than anything else, and shoves his chair back to get up. He throws his cards on the table and sneers at the others.
"Fuck that," he hisses. "You are all goddamn idiots. You think this won't come back to bite you? He's a fucking cop!"
Then the other man turns to Barry and the look Mark fixes him with gives him goose bumps all over.
"Fuck you, you miserable little shit."
He wants to say more, Barry can see it in his eyes – a threat, clearly a threat – but he doesn't, because Len is there and it would probably not go over too well for him.
Instead, Mark grabs his jacket off the back of the chair and storms out of the flat.
Barry flinches when he slams the entrance door on his way out with enough force that it should have cracked.
An uncomfortable silence follows and he suddenly feels so ill at ease that he can't bring himself to meet anybody's eyes. He reaches for his beer, not because he wants to take a sip but because he needs something to hold onto, something to busy his hands with.
"Well, that wasn't melodramatic at all," snorts Sam and the tense mood lifts as if on a cue.
"Wouldn't be a poker night otherwise," grins Mick and opens his zippo once more before putting it on the table next to his beer, letting the small flame flicker in the light breeze that comes from the tilted window.
"He is angry b-because of his b-brother," Barry points out quietly and frowns down at the brown bottle in his hands.
"Clyde got himself into this situation, Bar. He was sloppy and that got him into prison."
Lisa has walked over to them by now and is standing next to him. He glances up at her with an unhappy expression.
"I-I am th-the one w-who proved it th-though."
"So what? You did your job and you are good at it," shrugs his friend as she squeezes in between him and Sam so that she can sit down on his lap. "He wasn't, and that is what got him into a cell at the Heights."
It's an odd way to look at it, Barry decides, even if it is more or less true. For Len and most of the other people he works with it sometimes seems to be some sort of a game what they are doing, complete with its own rules to follow, and as long as you play along accordingly there is no problem – no hard feelings, so to speak.
He wonders whether this will also be the case when his occupation gets one of the others in prison one day. It worries him. A lot.
Barry lays an arm around Lisa's back, so that his hand rests on her hip, and isn't bothered when she leans back so that she is resting against his chest.
"You worry too much," she tells him with a soft sigh and grabs the beer from his hand to take a sip.
"When does he not?" asks Mick with a smirk as he picks the cards up Mark has just thrown down onto the table next to him. His amused expression is replaced by a slight frown. "Good thing he left, that bastard had a Straight Flush."
Three hours later and after a second game – both of which Sam won, and there is no way in hell that he didn't somehow cheat to do so – Mick and Sam take their leave to grab another couple of beers in the Saloon. Len declines the invitation to tag along, and so do Lisa and Barry.
The flat is much more quiet afterwards and more comfortable this way.
Barry helps the siblings with cleaning off the table and listens to Lisa's ideas of how Scudder could have cheated despite everybody keeping an eye on him as the man is infamous for it. He feels a bit drowsy and wonders whether Len would mind it if he crashed on the couch the tonight as the thought of making the long journey home at this hour is not very appealing to him.
"You have to make do with the floor next," explains Lisa after he asks her brother about it. "I'm also going to stay and I'm taking the couch."
"Y-you live n-not even two blocks from here."
"So what? I'm tired and it's already after one. You really want me to run into some shady people on my way home just so you can get comfy?"
Barry thinks about pointing out that she does so every other night and usually never has a problem with it but stays quiet when she glares warningly at him. Len has a sleeping bag and it isn't as if he hasn't slept on the floor before. He doesn't really mind.
"Anybody else want to order something to eat?" asks Lisa after their sleeping arrangements are settled. "What about Chinese? I could totally go for Chinese right now."
"I thought you're on a diet?"
The blond woman frowns in annoyance at her brother, who returns it with a smirk and a shrug.
"Sure, Chinese is fine."
"You know, I haven't drunk like 5000 calories in beer tonight, so I am not the one who should be worrying about their figure," grumbles Lisa and walks over to the small pinboard next to the entrance where a number of flyers from different restaurants can be found.
Len watches her for a moment, quite obviously amused, before he turns back to the kitchen table where Lisa has put the invitation for the science congress next week. He picks it up and lets his eyes fly over the printed words.
Barry, who has sat down on the couch by now, watches him a bit nervously. He told Len about this the day after Wells invited him and he immediately picked up on the fact that his friend didn't seem to share his delight over it. His friend could be ridiculously protective at times when it came to Lisa or him.
Contrary to Lisa, it doesn't really bother him all that much. It's nice to have someone looking out for him and Len has filled this role for years now.
"So," starts the other man, putting the invitation back down at the table as he turns his attention over to Barry, "you seem to have yourself quite a fancy admirer." Seeing that there is probably no right way to answer, Barry stays quiet.
Len studies him for a moment before he seems to take pity on his obvious discomfort.
"People like this Wells are usually trouble for men like you and me, Barry. Just keep that in mind."
"He hasn't g-given me any r-reason to th-think so, so f-far," argues Barry, a bit miffed that not only Joe seems to dislike Dr Wells for no real reason but Len seemingly as well.
"They usually don't till they get what they want."
"And what would that be?" he asks, giving into the urge to cross his arms in front of his chest. "I h-hardly am someone w-who can offer anyth-thing to begin w-with to a m-man like that."
"You are a bright young man, who isn't hard on the eyes either. I can think of a few thinks that man could want from you and that you are perfectly capable of offering."
Len walks over to Barry and stops in front of him. His eyes are cool and hard and Barry fights the urge to look away.
"I am not telling you not to go. You are old enough to decide such things on your own and you are probably more careful when it comes to these things than anybody else I know," the other man's frown vanishes and his expression softens a bit. "You are still young, though, and despite how many times fate has pushed you down, you still try to see the best in people, no matter whether they deserve it or not."
"H-he is not a b-bad person, Len, he has d-done so many good things for th-the city."
Having Len looming over him like this is uncomfortable—not really threatening, not like it would be with most other men, but it still causes him to feel slightly uneasy. It seems that his friend notices it, as he takes a step back. Barry relaxes a bit.
"And y-you don't even know him," he adds a bit sourly.
"Do you?"
Barry frowns and finally looks away.
It is a fair question and the honest answer would be no, at least apart from what he learned from books and such.
He knows that Len is about to say something else when Lisa cuts him off.
"I ordered lots and lots of Dim Sum, my dears, we are going to drown in dumplings in about thirty minutes and if it is going to be my end, then I will go with a smile on my lips," she declares happily. Despite his dimmed mood, Barry has to chuckle at her enthusiasm.
Lisa, like usual, quickly picks up that something has happened and glances between them with a lifted eyebrow before her gaze ends up on her brother. She purses her lips.
"You are being an overbearing jackass again, aren't you?"
"I am not," Len replies easily:" I am just telling him to be careful."
"Because the doctor could turn out to be some crazy scientist who wants to turn him into his sexy secretary?"
It is hard to miss the sarcasm in Lisa's voice.
"No, because this Wells is a rich man with powerful friends, and such people usually become rather nasty to deal with when you upset them in some way." Len is looking at Barry as he says this, eyes hard and cold.
"Aren't you a little Debbie Downer, Lenny?" huffs Lisa in annoyance. "Who the fuck has said anything about Barry committing his life to this guy? He's just been invited to some boring science conference, not to some ceremony that will steal his soul. Why do you have to spoil this for him?"
The siblings continue to stare each other down for a minute, and Barry can't help but be impressed once again by how Lisa has nearly no trouble at all doing so.
"I am not spoiling anything," Len – surprisingly enough – looks away first and turns back to Barry with another frown and slightly pursed lips. "I am just telling him to be careful."
"In that totally stifling way of yours," agrees Lisa with a nod and takes a seat next to Barry.
"I w-will be careful."
Experience has taught him that it is always better to be wary of things that seem too good to be true and the other man's words are just what he has been quietly worrying about for the last couple of days now as well. Still, it isn't exactly helping having Len speak them out loud for him, and he suddenly doesn't feel hungry anymore. He also doesn't feel like going to the conference anymore.
Right now, he just wants to go home and go to bed.
"Bar, don't look so crestfallen," Lisa grabs his wrist and gives it a slight squeeze so that he meets her eyes. "This is going to be a totally kickass event and I will be so damn envious of you."
"Y-you would be bored t-to no end, L-Lisa," he points out with a small smile. "There will be just talk about s-sciencey stuff and you d-don't like sciencey stuff."
"Hey, I like sciencey stuff! I watch Mythbusters with you all the time, remember?"
"Yes, b-because they usually blow things up."
"Which is the best kind of science, if you ask me."
Barry has to chuckle at that, which causes Lisa to grin triumphantly and bump their shoulders lightly together.
His smile quickly dims again when he notices that Len is still watching him with that serious expression.
"I will be careful, Len," he says again and cups the back of his neck with his hand while averting his eyes to the ground. "And it isn't as though th-this invitation m-means anything. I d-doubt that someone like Dr W-Wells really wants something from me. He p-probably is j-just trying to be n-nice."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Barry," Lisa hits his shoulder with actual force so that he flinches and shoots her an annoyed glare. "You are not the damn ugly duckling, so stop badmouthing yourself so much."
She then turns to Len and glowers at him.
"And you stop butting into other people's business and being so damn pessimistic all the time. If he wants to get into the pants of some rich scientist then let him."
"Lisa! I d-don-"
"I am just saying," she huffs and crosses her arms, "It's your life. I don't understand why Len always has to get himself involved in things that shouldn't even interest him!"
Barry watches his friend in surprise, pretty sure that she has no longer been speaking just about him, while Len grimaces as if he has just bitten into something really nasty.
Right… Dillon.
"Uh," he nervously rubs his palms on his thighs while alternating his gaze between the siblings. "S-somebody wants something t-to drink? I th-think tea would be g-good. You t-two want t-tea?"
Len cracks a smile and looks over to him while Lisa chuckles and let herself drop back against the back of the couch.
"Tea sucks," she informs him with a smirk. "It's bland and tastes like used dishwater."
Barry, who has been an avid lover of tea for as long as he can remember, frowns at her and is about to point out that the certainly doesn't suck and is very healthy for you at that, when Len cuts him off.
"Tea is fine. Fits the Chinese food we are going to have." "Because you pay attention to something like that," snorts his sister and rolls her eyes. "You think that it is disgusting too, don't deny it. You are just being friendly to Barry because you've made a total arse out of yourself – again."
Len ignores the quip and Barry decides that he is grateful for it because he doesn't want to talk about the upcoming conference or Dr Wells anymore. At least not around the other man. Thus, he gets up and makes his way to the small kitchen the apartment offers. He isn't really surprised when Len follows him while Lisa stays in the living area and turns on the TV.
The sound of the television is, for a while, the only noise in the flat as he fills up the water cooker and gets the cups and tea bags out. Thanks to him, Len has quite a decent stash of different kinds of tea. Green one, back ones, fruit and herbal teas, all of which Barry enjoys to make whenever he is over, and while Lisa has a point that her brother doesn't care particularly about them, Len still humours him and accepts a cup more often than not.
Barry can feel Len's gaze on him, but he busies himself with preparing the beverage. At least until his friend steps up to him, close enough that he can actually feel him next to him.
Barry pauses and hesitates for a moment before looking at him."You've picked chamomile?"
"Yeah, th-thought we could use something to c-calm down."
Len hums and the tension between them starts to cease again.
"You know that I didn't want to ruin your mood before."
It is formulated like a statement, but Barry knows that it is actually meant as a question. Len can be kind of complicated in that way.
"I know," he agrees quietly and picks up the electric kettle to fill the three cups with hot water. "And I will be caref-ful, Len, I am n-not stupid."
"No, you aren't."
Barry frowns down at the last cup, watching how the water gets tinted a very pale yellow.
"He d-doesn't seem like a b-bad person."
He glances over to Len who is still studying him.
"He seems n-nice."
"Okay."
His friend doesn't seem to like his fondness of Dr Wells any more now than he has ten minutes ago, but he doesn't look as frustrated by it anymore. Barry gives him a hesitant smile and chuckles somewhat awkwardly.
"You kn-know that he probably i-is just nice to m-me for a t-totally platonic reason, r-right?"
"I don't think that you put thousands of dollars into police equipment just so you can stay in contact with someone because you want to have a platonic friendship with them," replies Len drily but smirks when Barry grows crimson again.
"Look, Lisa has a point, as long as he doesn't turn out to be some deranged mad scientist, it really is none of my business."
"B-but it is if he d-does?"
Barry feels even more awkward as soon as the words are past his lips.
Len gives him a look like he is an idiot in response and he takes it with as much quiet grace as he can. Still, despite that, a pleasant warmth spreads through his belly and the feeling of apprehensions which has been following him since he has gotten the invitation earlier today abates somewhat.
"Thanks, Len."
It's nice having someone look out for him, even if that someone is quite overbearing at times.
The ringing of the doorbell causes him to jumps slightly and he looks toward the living room, where Lisa has already gotten up to get to the door.
"Seems the food has arrived," points Len out rather unnecessarily before he grabs two of the mugs and adds with a smirk, "Let's get out there before Lisa devours all of those dumplings."
Barry chuckles and follows him out of the kitchen.