Just because he was now freelancing or moonlighting as a semi-good guy, didn't mean Leonard Snart didn't still follow what exhibition brought which valuable item into town. He visited museums, galleries, high end stores with one of a kind precious gems or jewelry items, and he kept an ear on the ground for the more illegal activities in his line of work. His personal visits happened on different days, at different times, and always in different rooms. He learned the schedule of guards, their rotations, the placement of surveillance cameras, sensors and laser systems.

It was fun.

It kept him sharp.

It gave him a better understanding of his enhanced rendering abilities. He wasn't getting any faster, Len discovered. Just more precise, like time-lapsing the creation of a 3-D model on a computer.

It was neat.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he actually pulled off a job. Never something big, jsut a necklace here, earrings there, a ring, maybe a shipment of diamonds. Small stuff, really. Absolutely small stuff. Len never left a calling card, never got caught on camera, and there was never an alarm. He fenced the diamonds and sent the jewelry to his sister for her birthday.

Yes, he was a wonderfully thoughtful brother.

Barry just rolled his eyes at him. "You could have bought her a gift," he pointed out.

"I did."

"You might want to look up 'buying' in a dictionary. It means leaving money, Len. Or another form of compensation."

He smirked. "It also means the promise of compensation."

"A promise you don't plan to keep."

He shrugged.

Barry shook his head and flipped through a lab report. He had brought work home, using his laptop's access to his lab computers to finish writing up his findings on a body that had been found in an apartment last week. No foul play, just a heart attack. It had looked like a robbery, with the place absolutely tossed and messed-up, but interviewing the neighbors had told the investigating detectives that the dead man, Robbie Fowl, had been a recluse, a hoarder, and he had had a heart condition.

"I have to confess it would have been more of a thrill to have you there," Snart purred. "It's not the same."

"We can arrange it next time," Barry replied, saving the report. "Give me a time and place."

Len chuckled. "Now, that wouldn't be a challenge, now would it?"

The speedster sent off the report and closed his laptop. "Cisco would be heartbroken if you used his cool new toys to do something criminal, maybe shoot at me with the cold guns."

"And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"Shoot all you want, you'd also have to hit me, Len," Barry teased.

"Is that a challenge?"

The speedster grinned.

He did hit Barry with the guns. Both. At almost the highest setting.

Len realized what was going to happen the moment he pulled the trigger on their latest meta problem, a woman who was able to deflect everything thrown at her, reflecting it at her attacker. Cisco had had a very nifty explanation for it, but that was absolutely not on Snart's mind as Reflecta, and he really had to talk to the kid about his names, used her abilities to not simply return his cold rays toward him, but to change the angle and aim for The Flash.

Barry went down with a scream of intense pain, his whole body covered in sharp, jagged frost.

Len had one second to curse himself, then Reflecta's partner kicked him hard into the side, impacting like a ton of bricks, upsetting his balance. Cold went down with a wheeze. The kick was followed by a blow from the staff the guy had brought to the fight, slamming into his left arm. It did more than just sting a little, but Len was too much of a professional and too much of an experienced fighter to just roll over and play dead.

The thug was frozen to the spot and Snart was gunning for their meta again, who was advancing on Barry.

The Flash was on the ground, his left side iced over, arm useless, and he was clearly in a lot of pain. The full blast was enough to freeze a normal human's cells, destroy blood vessels and leave third degree frost bite so bad, it would mean losing the limb involved. Barry's suit gave him a modicum of protection, but even that wasn't enough to spare him the injuries. Cisco was already powering up the de-frost circuits, but the pain was real, had been there and still was there. Last time Len had frozen The Flash had been at barely twenty-five percent of the old gun's power. Now… a lot more. A whole lot more.

Len cursed creatively in his head and fired at the woman again and again, though nothing stuck. It was like a dance, deadly and fast, with no back-up in sight and his partner still down. Cisco's voice was in his ear, clearly talking to Barry.

The Flash suddenly shot forward and caught the woman off guard as she had concentrated on Cold, and they were gone in a flurry of lightning.

"What the…" Len started.

The Speedster was back no two minutes later, a triumphant grin on his lips – and then he keeled over with a groan.

Len caught him, which had his ribs and left arm protest, sinking to the ground with Barry's almost dead weight in his arms. "Where is she?" he asked.

"A.R.G.U.S." he wheezed. "They had a special containment cell set up. I just needed her distracted to flash her there." His face contorted in pain. "Ow. Crap. That hurts." The fingers of his right hand clenched into his frostbitten left shoulder.

Len visually checked the damage. The suit was blackened, flaking in parts, and there was still frost covering the damaged shoulder.

"Medical," he decided.

"I guess," came the sigh.

Barry tried to push himself to his feet and found his knees uncooperative. Len just held him up.

"Running is probably out of the question," he stated. "You think you can hold on to me on the bike?"

"I can run!" came the almost automatic protest.

"And end up flat as a pancake because you can't out-maneuver some old lady with a walker? Nope. Bike. No argument," Snart ordered firmly.

Barry relented, which showed just how badly he hurt. That little stunt with Reflecta, whisking her off for A.R.G.U.S. to handle, then getting back, had cost him dearly.

Snart bit the inside of his cheek as he got onto the bike first. Moving his arm felt like there was one big bruise where his muscles should be. Not to mention his ribs protested fiercely. Having Barry at his back, holding on, didn't help.

"Len?" came the soft, slightly slurred inquiry.

"Hold on, Scarlet."

"Len…"

"Hands. On me. We're heading back to base."

"You shot him?!"

Len leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. He kept his left arm close to his body, still ignoring the way it hurt to just raise it. And it hurt like hell. His ribs felt like someone had used him as a punching ball, his muscles protested every move, and he just knew he would look rather colorful by tomorrow. Driving the bike had been a challenge and a half, not to mention a Bad Idea.

Priorities, he told himself. And his priority was his Sentinel.

He almost snorted derisively at the thought. If any of his old criminal pals could hear and see him now. He was putting someone else before himself.

Barry, he thought. He was putting Barry's health and well-being before his own. He was becoming selfless. Somehow it was less discomforting and painful than he had thought, he mused with a detached air. He hadn't even thought twice.

"Yes, Dr. Snow," he said out loud, voice filled with all the annoyance he could muster, "for the umpteenth time, I shot him. Full setting, Absolute zero. Two barrels. Accidentally."

"It was Reflecta," Barry argued. "It wasn't Len's fault." He winced as Caitlin peeled more of the suit away, revealing deep frostbite. "Ouch."

She looked apologetic and dabbed at the injury. Barry grimaced and his fingers curled tightly around the edge of the medical bed he sat on. Len's sharp eyes were in the speedster, but he didn't move any closer.

"I'll be fine," Barry now said.

"Of course you will be fine," Caitlin snapped. "It shouldn't have happened."

Len gave her an impassionate look, eyebrows twitching up. Cisco just shook his head, exchanging a brief, commiserating look with Len.

"Cait," Barry sighed. "I'm okay. It was Reflecta, not Len. I've been hit by friendly fire before."

She had removed the last scraps of suit and started to bandage it. "I know," Caitlin finally said. "It's just… Sorry." She glanced at Len.

"It's just that this time the friendly fire came from the wrong source," he remarked, smirking. "Believe me, Doc, I'm not inclined to shoot at my Sentinel. I like him in one piece and not in pain. Especially not in pain." The last words were hard, voice serious. "I'm not a sadist, Dr. Snow. And while Scarlet can get kinky, we don't get off on me icing him."

Caitlin stared at him, face flushing, while Cisco was snickering.

Barry groaned. He slid off the medical bed, carefully moving his shoulder. There was a still very painful pull and he knew it would take a while to heal, since cold gun blasts left very deep tissue damage, especially since Len had used a higher setting. His arm and the area over his ribs was still kind of numb, but the shoulder had borne the brunt of the blast.

"Get some rest," Caitlin advised. She glanced at Len, who hadn't moved. "Both of you. No strenuous activities."

Cisco smirked. He didn't stop even as Snart shot him a dark look as he pushed away from the wall. Barry just rolled his eyes.

"Now you," Caitlin continued, staring hard at Snart, gesturing at the medical bed.

"I'm quite alright, Dr. Snow," he said, feeling Barry's eyes on him.

"You haven't moved that left arm since you came in," Caitlin said sharply. "On the bed, Snart. Now!"

"Bossy," he chuckled, but he moved.

"I let you get out of a medical check-up the last time you claimed it was a bruise. Not again. I'm the resident medic on the team and you are part of this team, Snart!" she continued, voice hard and relaying just how little patience Caitlin Snow had left for one stubborn Leonard Snart.

"You have a very heart-warming bedside manner, Dr. Snow," he said wryly. "Really makes me feel it."

"Can you take off the jacket? No? I thought as much," she continued, voice clipped and professionally distant, though her eyes told a different story.

She proceeded to get him out of the jacket and shirt, hands gentle but firm, and Len couldn't stop the sudden, sharp inhalation as he had to move his left arm. There was a sharp needle digging into his every nerve. Revealing the dark purple, almost black bruising had Caitlin give him the dirtiest of looks he had ever seen on her.

"A bruise," she echoed his words. "Really? That's more than just a bruise. And those ribs need to be scanned."

Len closed his eyes, trying not to wince away when she palpated the injuries. That stung. A lot. He almost felt Barry's presence, even without physical touch. He opened his eyes and met the green ones of his Sentinel, saw the worry in there, and he saw the manifestation of the Speed Force, curling and whipping toward him. Neither Cisco nor Caitlin could see the extra-dimensional energy as it crawled up Len's good arm, twisting and twirling, wrapping around his chest, his neck, his shoulders.

"You have a hairline fracture to your left radius and contusions along your upper arm. The ribs are just as badly bruised, though not broken. I'm not going to wrap the ribs because that leads to taking smaller breaths and finally to pneumonia, but I will immobilize the arm."

Len grimaced. Caitlin's no-nonsense expression darkened.

"Do not argue! You don't have Barry's hyper-healing, Snart! You'll be in a lot of pain for the next few days and that fracture has to heal, not to mention that bruises take a while to clear. You will wear the brace for a week or I'm going to admit you to the isolation room!"

Len's brows shot up. "Threats, doctor? I'm impressed. And maybe a little scared."

She huffed. "Barry, he's your partner," she told the hovering speedster. "He's now your responsibility! Any dizzy spells, increased pain or general mule-headedness, call me."

Len smirked at her. "Touched," he drawled.

Barry nodded. "We'll take it easy for a few days."

"Two weeks," she decided firmly.

"Will you look at that," Len deadpanned. "I was planning to take some time out. Exactly two weeks. Work on my cultural education. I heard there's a new exhibition in town."

"The Lorence-Winnard Collection?" Cisco asked, looking amused. "At the Natural History Museum?"

"The very same," he answered lazily. "Quite a few rare and exquisite pieces."

Caitlin rolled her eyes and taped the final piece in place. "Don't remove the wrapping. Put cool packs on those contusions. I want to see you every other day to check on your condition."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied mockingly and carefully slid off the medical bed.

"Out," she grumbled.

Barry was at his side as Len walked out of the medical wing, still smirking. "She's worried."

"Of course she is."

Snart tilted his head a little, shooting Barry a sideways look. The younger man snorted and shook his head.

"You're part of this team, Len. You're part of me. She might be angry at the outcome of the last fight, but she never really blamed you."

"I think you weren't part of the same conversation, Scarlet."

"That's Caitlin worrying. About me. About you. Everyone. I've gotten yelled at quite a few times and it never gets better." They had arrived at one of the guest rooms and Barry shot him a quizzical look.

"I'd rather be anywhere else, but between you looking like some frostbitten chicken leg and, well, me, I think it would be the best option," Len decided evenly.

It really was. He was too tired to even think about driving, let alone capable of handling a bike or a car. Barry, while healing at his usual speed, shouldn't be running about.

"Chicken leg?" the speedster echoed.

It got him a little sardonic smirk as Len walked into the very neutral guest room.

It was one of the few times they were in separate beds. Len was almost immediately out like a light, the pain meds and the adrenaline crash doing their part, and Barry just watched him for a while as he sat on his own bed.

He finally dropped off, too.

Len actually did go to the Central City Natural History Museum. With his arm strapped to his side, of course, because the wrath of Dr. Caitlin Snow was nothing to be trifled with. He spent three days just touring each floor, each room, partaking in every guided tour and listening to every so-called expert talk about the history of each piece.

It was a way to pass some time, especially since his very agile brain was rendering all kinds of scenarios. It would be very easy to break those Draycon locks. While the software might have been updated, the model was an older one.

Len sneered to himself. Some people thought running an updated software on an outdated hardware meant the same level of security as spanking new hardware and the latest in software. He could break those locks with an arm tied behind his back. Well, to the side, in his very real case.

He strolled through some other exhibits, checked out the surveillance there, then headed back to the main attraction.

Snart left with the last visitors and walked down the side of the museum, the renders happening completely on automatic, giving him a full model of the whole building. He got himself a cold drink from one of the food trucks on the street, then headed down the street and away from the museum. He wasn't surprised to find Barry sitting on the low wall not far away, looking relaxed and at ease.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Len teased.

"It's past seven," Barry told him with a bright smile. "No overtime, just a regular day." He hopped down and joined his partner. "Had fun?"

"Endlessly."

Barry grinned, but he didn't press on. Len just twitched a little smile and tossed the soda cup into a trash can.

He didn't hit the museum. That would have been too easy and also too much for his still painful bruises. While he healed faster than expected, and Caitlin remarked on it every time she checked his ribs and hairline-fractured ulnar, Leonard Snart had no plans to grab some jewel-crusted masks and golden swords.

"It would be foolish to run this as a one man enterprise," he told Barry when the speedster teased him gently about lost opportunities. "I'm not a fool, Scarlet."

"That's true."

Len took a slice of pizza, noting how easy movement had become. His ribs barely even twinged. "Disappointed? We could do another test run." He raised his eyebrows. "If you want to pitch your senses against Cisco and me." He grinned.

Barry chuckled. "Nah. I just enjoy watching you."

"Oh?" he purred.

"I like your style, Cold."

Len smirked more. "My style, Flash?"

"Very much."

"Flirt."

"Tease." Barry leaned over and kissed him softly. One hand wandered down south and Len spread his legs in a very blatant invitation. "Sure?"

"Very," he murmured against the teasing lips. "A handjob isn't strenuous. Nor is a blowjob." He raised his eyebrows.

Barry grinned at the suggestion. "Oh?"

"Hm-mh."

"Well, let's give it a try, what do you think?"

"I love your experimental side, Barry," he purred.

"You didn't tell Lisa."

Len looked up from the newspaper articles he was reading on his tablet. "Tell Lisa what?"

"About me. Us. All of this."

All of Snart's attention was now on the speedster. "A long time ago, I made you a promise. That I wouldn't reveal your secret. To anyone, Barry."

"Yeah, well…"

"That included Mick and also my sister. Anyone. Only I knew."

Barry pondered that. "Well, thanks. But… now that we are… well, not-bonded…"

"The same," Len said patiently, no mockery and no taunts.

"Why?"

"It's the very same, Scarlet," the other man repeated. "The first time you extorted the promise not to reveal your identity to anyone." Now there was a little smirk. "This connection between us is more than that. I can't tell her without endangering you, Barry." His voice dropped, graver, darker. "It's an instinct to protect you. My Sentinel."

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but Len held up a finger.

"You are. No matter what this is between us, I've come realize that I want it for myself." He smirked. "I'm very selfish when it comes to you, Scarlet. I always was. And this instinct overrides even my sibling bond with Lisa."

"Would you want to tell her?"

Len rose and walked over to where Barry was standing, looking at the other man, so serious, so intense.

"Who knows you're a Sentinel?"

"Uhm…"

"And who knew first?"

"I…"

"Your team, Barry. Three people, one who is now dead and was a scumbag killer to begin with. Your team knew because you becoming The Flash revealed that little detail, right?"

Barry shrugged.

"Your foster father." Len held up a finger. "Your sister." Another finger. "Your brother-in-law. Your birth father." Two more fingers. "Anyone I missed?"

Barry worried his lower lip.

"Six people," Len gave him the total. "The first revelation about being a Sentinel happened fifteen years after the fact. Now tell me you want Lisa in on that," he challenged.

The speedster scrubbed a hand over his neck.

"I've never not trusted my instincts. They kept me alive. My instinct is to protect you, Barry," Len repeated. "We both know when it started and we both know it got stronger in each of us. It sounds ludicrous, even to my ears, and Mick would probably have my head checked. So no, I won't tell Lisa a single thing. I love her, I will protect her from everything I can, but you are my priority."

"Len…" Barry was stunned, almost speechless.

"Not something I thought I'd ever say." The smile was self-deprecating. "There goes my brilliant career as the merciless master criminal."

Barry pulled him into a gentle kiss. "You are still all that." He nodded at the dark tablet. "You're the best." Another kiss.

"And you bring out the worst in me."