This Delicate Thing We've Made

summary: For every tragedy in Barry's life, he'd had a rebirth of sorts. When his mother died, he became part of a new family. When he'd been almost killed by a bolt of lightning, he'd become a hero. And now after the death of his daughter from the future, he finds himself on a new path he hadn't quite expected.

He never expected to find love again, certainly not with Leonard Snart. But falling for each other turned out to be the easy part, something effortless between them. But was it sustainable, was it destined to burn out as quickly as it began, or were they in for something that would end up being the thing in this world that made each man both feel more at home than they'd ever been in their lives?

genre: Romance

rated: M

authors note: I am a WestAllen shipper at my core but the one thing that could make me abandon ship is ColdFlash. I love the dynamic between these two characters, their evolution, their crazy chemistry. This is a post-season 5 AU exploring the idea of these two men coming together, a what-if their stars aligned.

Title is inspired by a Darren Hayes (one of my favorite singers) album of the same name with all chapter titles inspired by one of his songs. This was a year-long labor of love, the ultimate ColdFlash story I was dying to tell with fluff, sweetness, sexy smut, and angst all rolled into it. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1: Where You Want to Be

"Hey there stranger, do you remember you were a part of my life
Early December, think I remember, sentiment cuts like a knife
The seasons are changing, life's rearranging
Full of good times, would have beens
It's all your fault and where've you been
And how time goes"

Barry took a deep inhale of the coffee in the cup in front of him, his hands absorbing the warmth emanating from the mug nursed between his palms. It wasn't often he just stopped and actually sat at Jitters by himself. It was nice to slow down, enjoy a quiet moment, just pause and let the world move on around him instead of the other way around. He'd been trying to take more of those moments, be in them rather than fly past them, taking them in rather than getting lost in them.

He had made plans to meet up with Iris and rather than filling his time while he waited, he opted to sit, relax and just be. Despite still sharing the loft, recently they hadn't had the chance to spend much time together. Iris had been working in full gear trying to get the Central City Citizen off the ground, her spark for journalism reigniting with ferocity when they had been working to defeat Cicada, setting her back on a course of her own personal goals. The year before she had taken some time off to help lead Team Flash at S.T.A.R. Labs but it wasn't the life she envisioned for herself. It had been nice having her a part of the team so regularly, comforting having her in his ear while out in the field, but that was his path, not hers. She thrived in journalism and her paper was taking off with great reviews, enough so that Iris needed more than just herself and Camilla to keep it going and growing.

So here he sat, waiting for her to arrive with the stack of resumes that he promised to help her go through as she looked to hire another writer or two for the Central City Citizen. It wasn't really his expertise, but he was happy she still valued his opinion so much and Barry didn't hesitate to help her in any way he could.

As he took a long, soothing sip of the steaming freshly brewed beverage, he marveled about how far they'd come together. From childhood friends to having a schoolboy crush, to growing up together and unrequited, unspoken love, it had taken a lot for them to get to where they were. Within a year they had dated, became lovers, moved in with each other, and gotten engaged. They had a wedding and a half, the first interrupted by multiverse hopping Nazis, survived the first few months of wedded bliss with Barry in prison, and came through stronger as husband and wife then they could have hoped for. They had overcome and thrived through everything the multiverse threw at them.
But then Nora came along. And just as quickly, they lost her.

They had tried to get past it as a couple. They had given each other space when they needed it, held each other tightly when they needed that. They had tried therapy together and separately but they had each felt like they were drowning in the notion of the family they lost, of the family they wouldn't ever have, each grieving differently, trying to keep themselves and each other afloat but also unwilling to pull the other down with them. So after a couple of months of trying, they surrendered to what neither wanted to admit. They lost Nora, and something broke between them.

What broke though did reveal to them that they were solid as partners, but as lovers, they couldn't survive the loss of their child. They were soulmates, that they were both sure. Best friends, closer than family, deeper than any connection either had with anyone else, but not lovers. Not any more. With their daughter no longer existing, knowing the young girl they fell in love with would never be, even if they had another daughter in the future, was too much to bear. They were struggling moving forward towards that life without her, so instead decided to move away from it altogether.

They went through with a no-fault divorce. Iris decided to keep her name hyphenated as a tribute to their daughter and the life they had created together. Barry asked her to keep the engagement ring as a symbol of the love they shared, telling her that even if someone else came along, she was his truest love, the only person other than Nora Allen that he felt should wear that ring. Because the truth was he would always love her, even if that love changed, even if someone else came along, and he knew Iris felt the same. So now she wore the ring on her right pointer finger and she had given Barry her wedding band to wear with his together on a necklace chain so he could have his own symbol of their time together.
Much like their transition into partners, very little between them had actually changed. They still lived in their loft, but now in separate bedrooms. They still snuggled on the couch, Iris' legs draped over his lap or his arm wrapped around her shoulders, but it lacked that heat of passion and instead burned with the comfortable warmth of family, just like it had been their entire lives. He still loved her, just not in that way, and he did mourn the loss of that particular version of their relationship, of the what was and what could have been, but they were in a better place now than they had been when they lost Nora, separately and together. It made Barry smile to himself as he thought about it, taking another sip from his mug. It wasn't what he imagined for them, but at least they were able to move on and move forward.

It had been six months now since Nora had been erased, gone but not forgotten. Barry had been handling grief his whole life, but for the first time in his life, he felt prepared for it, felt like he could move forward with his life without letting the pain dictate his movements or hold him back. Last year when Barry had come back from the Speed Force, he had felt contentment like never before. It gave him a new outlook like he could finally shake off his trauma and past mistakes. Even processing this new pain, he felt like he now had the tools to not get lost in his grief, like he could evolve and adapt to this new way of life. The pain was still there, but so was the joy, the memories, and the love for Nora that he would always carry with him. And they were all moving forward. He and Iris had finally navigated their new dynamic, Cisco had taken over as team leader now that he'd left Vibe behind and finally had found that balance between his work and personal life, Caitlin and Killer Frost were in-sync and happy, Ralph had stepped up as being a formidable hero to Central City, and Joe and Cecile were the ultimate power law and order couple of Captain of the CCPD and Central City Meta Attorney. They'd all survived again and were thriving, despite what had been thrown their way. It reinforced the belief to Barry that nothing could derail them permanently, as individuals and as a family, that he was prepared for whatever new surprises the universe threw his way.

The ring of the entrance door to the coffee shop interrupted his inner musings and he wasn't sure why but he felt compelled to look up. He felt his breathing come to a standing halt though as he saw Leonard Snart, robber of ATM's, master criminal, and Legend who sacrificed himself to save time itself, walking through the door. Confusion and false hope flooded his mind for a moment, processing it at almost super-speed as he examined the man who couldn't possibly be entering the coffee shop. It definitely wasn't Leo of Earth X. Despite the similarities, there was a distinct way about each of them that differentiated the two Snarts, a unique swagger that was completely identifiable. No, that was the casual yet confident walk of the Leonard Snart of his earth, his Leonard Snart.

Barry closed his eyes, took a deep inhale, and braced himself to open his eyes and confirm that he'd imagined it. Snart's death had stung. They'd never been friends, but never truly enemies. Snart was a man with a background that could have easily been his own if Joe hadn't taken him in. Barry had always seen Snart's potential to do good, knowing he did what he did because of the thrill of the challenge, a fight within him that told him to kill or be killed, a desire to be better than his father; he became a man living in the shadows of the gray area of good and bad, never willing to be someone else's puppet. Barry blamed himself for pushing Snart to be a hero and although he was proud, Barry felt guilty for not saying something to the man when he helped him break into A.R.G.U.S to steal the Dominators power source, having learned from Flashpoint that he couldn't change the course of someone's life in that way without dire consequences for everyone.

So when Barry took a deep inhale and opened his eyes with the expectation to be disappointed by his mind playing tricks, his breath caught in his throat when the visage of Leonard Snart didn't disappear. Walking in, dressed simply in jeans, a dark navy wool coat and cabby hat distracting from the face many people in Central City knew, his cool blue eyes caught sight of Barry and smirked.

Without a thought, Barry whooshed over to the man and flashed them to the alley behind Jitters. Snart blinked hard at the unexpected jolt of super speed before realizing what had just happened.

"You're alive!" Barry exclaimed, smiling widely as his hands gripped Snart's shoulders.

"Jesus, kid, give a guy some warning," Snart shook his head, trying to gain his equilibrium back.

"You're alive, how are you alive?" Barry didn't even try to play it cool and hide the incredulous excitement in his voice, not truly recognizing how much he actually missed the rogue until having him standing whole and alive in front of him now.

"The Legends found me and pulled me out of the time stream thanks to some warlock in a trench coat with a smoking problem," Len shrugged, the nonchalant tone a stark contrast to the fantastical nature of that entire sentence.

More surprising then the sudden burst of super speed had been was Barry enveloping him in a hug, arms clenched tightly around him. Len hesitated at first but the hitch he heard in Barry's voice as he whispered 'you're alive' again encouraged him to return the embrace, lifting his arms to hug Barry back, which was probably more surprising than anything else.

It would be a few moments before Barry pulled away, not attempting to be discreet as he brought his hand to his cheek to wipe away the stray tear with his knuckles.

"Sorry," Barry apologized, smiling up at Snart, a brilliant blush spreading across his cheeks. Len knew his cold heart had begun to thaw when he had started working with the Legends, but he could feel a crack in the ice with the sight of that smile against that blush.

"Geeze, Barry, I don't know what's more scarlet, your face or that 'flashy' costume of yours," Len teased, winking, the small laugh that followed from Barry made the crack in the iced-over heart start to spread, Len almost positive that laugh was his new favorite sound.

Being on the time ship for a year after he left Central City with Rip Hunter and his merry band of misfits only to die and be lost in time for another two, Len had to admit he had missed the kid and the dynamic between the two of them. He was no longer interested in living the solitary life, didn't mind having companionship and people he could not only depend on but that depended on him. Sure the do-gooders on the ship were fine, and he genuinely enjoyed Sara's company, but the Legends on the ship now were not the same crew he had left. They'd evolved, moved on, it was time for him to do the same.

At first, he thought this new perspective was a result of dying, but if he was being honest with himself the perspective shift started well before. It was why he even considered the mission to begin with, why he had to save the team from Mick when he lost his way, why he considered pursuing something with Sara. But she was like him, cut from a similar cloth, and all though they would have had fun, they each needed someone who balanced their intensity. And there was only one person he'd met in his life who did that.

Barry challenged him like no other, the proverbial yin to his yang. He'd been itching to see the speedster again, recognized that urge inside of him akin to when there would be an announcement of a precious diamond joining a public display or the meticulous planning of an impossible infiltration of a private auction. It surprised the hell out of him, almost as much as Barry's reaction to seeing him again did.

But the satisfaction he felt from Barry's reaction was short-lived as Barry's smile dropped, a hesitant twitch in his expression that revealed to an observant man that he wanted to say something that was difficult and uncomfortable. As the kid opened his mouth, a loud ping from Barry's pocket interrupted him and had him pulling out the device, sighing in a mix of frustration and relief.

"I gotta go. Flash business."

"Well, don't let me be the reason the city is kept waiting for their beloved Scarlet Speedster," Len folded his arms, leaning back against the wall. Barry seemed to hesitate, staring down at his phone before looking back up to Snart.

"Are you going to be here a while?" Barry knew he had to go, but he couldn't without knowing whether or not he'd see Snart again before the man disappeared.

"Not here in this alley, no," Len smirked as Barry rolled his eyes. "But my procurement of coffee was interrupted so I will be heading back into Jitters."

Len's satisfied smirk turned into a surprised smile as Barry seemed to blush again. Who knew it was this easy to fluster the hero.

"That's not-"

"Yes Barry, I'll be in Central a while," Len reached to pat Barry on the arm with one hand, giving the kid a break, Barry smiling in response. He then held up his other hand, holding Barry's wallet between his fingers. "Should I hold onto this just to make sure I'll see you again?"

"You're unbelievable," Barry chuckled again, confirming to Len that yes, definitely his new favorite sound, as he speed-grabbed the wallet from Len's hands. Len found himself grateful, not for the first time dealing with Barry Allen, that he'd perfected his poker face long ago.

"You're not the only one with quick hands," Len winked. "Now go, hero. Be seeing you."

He watched as Barry turned on his heel to leave before coming back to quickly embrace Len one more time before flashing off, leaving Len there alone and in one of the rare times in his life, at a loss for words. Another gust of wind blew past him again and suddenly in Len's hands was a plastic coffee cup. Looking down at the sticker along the side of the cup, the order read 'Iced Flash'

"Cute," Len smiled.

He wasn't sure what kind of reception he had been expecting from Barry Allen at his posthumous return; wasn't sure what he had been hoping for or why he had even hoped the hero would care. He'd imagined a few scenarios, ever being the master planner, but once again he found himself unable to account for the strange speedster.

What he did know was things were about to get interesting.

Snart took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check as his brain attempted to sort through his thoughts, the coldness of the beer bottle held between his hands acting almost as a grounding mechanism. He thought he would find comfort being at his usual booth at the bar he used to frequent but much like most things since being knitted back into reality, he didn't feel like Saints and Sinners was something that belonged to him anymore. Even Central City itself felt different, foreign and unfamiliar.

When he first got back he had broken into his old apartment and within minutes of walking around the space, he recognized that it didn't feel like his anymore; he didn't even steal anything from the new tenants to prove a point. Within the first few weeks of being back he'd stood outside a jewelry store, outside Central Federal Bank, and the Central City History Museum in the dead of night, primed and ready to break in but feeling no desire or urge to do so. Instead, he just walked away from each of them without a second thought. The blocks in the area of the city he used to frequent felt smaller, his old safe houses that only Mick and Lisa had been aware of had been emptied of contents and other than the memories, felt hollow. Even more hollow was the way it didn't disappoint or upset Len that he felt nothing as he retraced the steps and stops from his past life. It's how he ended up at Saints and Sinners, the last stop on his proverbial greatest hits tour.

As he took a long, soothing sip of the ice-cold beer, he marveled at the fact that his lack of attachment to the few areas of the city he had claimed for himself in the past was more frustrating than anything else. He'd always been able to keep a level of detachment as self-preservation but to feel nothing about the life he'd left behind was unfamiliar territory and Len was not a fan of feeling unprepared. The only iota of solace was that even as frustrating as it was, at least he didn't feel like it'd been lost. Instead, it felt like closure, although he refused to call it a 'closing a chapter' because even though he enjoyed puns, he was not nearly as corny or sentimental as that. It did give him a sense of freedom though, permission to himself to leave his past behind, to move forward, like his history no longer defined him. It terrified him in the best and worst ways and Len was feeling the anxiety of the mixed emotions.

He'd been dead for a few years. Life, the world, the people he knew, all moved on without him. Mick had created a new life with the new Legends, even starting a writing career in his free time. Lisa had moved to Gotham and was running with a crowd that called themselves the Sirens, partying and creating havoc, living a life that was her own and not the shadowed path their father had left them both. He was pleased they'd found their own places, continued creating their own lives after he left them. But they were lives he didn't belong in, stories that weren't his. As much as he missed his sister, he was not interested in living in the disaster that was Gotham City. And as much as he enjoyed his time with the Legends, that ship and the crew was not the same group he'd left behind and he was sure his place wasn't with them, at least not on a regular basis anymore. The pit-stop at Jitters, seeing Barry Allen again for the first time in years, was probably the only emotion-evoking point of interest; what emotions though, Len wasn't quite sure if he felt clear enough to give a name to them.

He wasn't sure where any of these revelations and details left him. He felt little attachment to who he had been. Raised by an abusive dad, young Len had found solace with his grandfather, an ice delivery man. Riding around in the truck with his grandfather, he'd developed an affinity for the cold, one that would transfer quite conveniently to his alter-ego persona as the cold-themed villain. But even though he still felt a fondness for the Captain Cold persona, he didn't identify as the "villain" anymore. He was more than that, his time with the Legends proved that. But his time with them had come to an end, leaving him needing to find the balance between the dichotomy he felt and reconcile that with his resurrection. So he found himself asking who was he now, where would that take him, and more importantly, what did he want in this life that he didn't have in the last.

Snart thought about getting up from his booth and leaving Saints and Sinners behind, possibly for good, but a familiar sensation washed over him. Len prided himself on being able to notice shifts in a room, changes in the energy around him, but to actually be able to identify the cause to a specific person or action, Snart could only count on one hand the number of those he could pinpoint with absolute certainty. He knew when Lisa entered, the distinct rhythm of her signature walk, usually accompanied by the sound of the clacking of heels a dead giveaway. He knew when Mick entered a room, a smell of singed fabric or smoky air preceding his gruff noises. And the third was not so much a sound or a smell but a feeling, a static in the air as if everything became charged, followed by soft hesitant steps. That was what he felt now.

"Hello, Barry," Len greeted, not looking up as Barry came around to the other side of the booth to sit across from him.

"I had a sneaking suspicion I'd find you here," Barry smirked at him, leaning his arms over the top of the table to clasp his hands in front of him.

"Are you implying I've become predictable," Len tilted his head, a glare with no heat directed at his booth-mate.

"You have your moments," Barry teased. "If it's any consolation, this wasn't the first place I looked."

"You've been looking for me," Len teased; it wasn't a question.

"Well, when I finished up you weren't at Jitters and we didn't really get a chance to talk or for me to ask how you were, or how you're even here and," Barry paused in his rambling, only suddenly realizing he was, his cheeks flushing as he pulled his arms off the table to rest beside him. Len couldn't see it with the table blocking the view, but he was confident Barry was sitting on his hands, just one nervous tick replacing the other. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize for nothing," Len mock scolded and pushed the beer towards Barry suddenly, forcing the younger man to use his speed to keep it from spilling over onto his lap. "Have a drink. Relax."

"Alcohol does nothing to me. A side effect of my powers," Barry picked at the corner of the bottle label that Len had been playing with prior to Barry's arrival before taking a swig of the offered beer. Len made no effort to hide his fixated stare as Barry's lips wrapped around the bottle, his neck stretching as he tilted his head back, his tongue darted out to lick his lips of the bubbles as he pulled it away.

"See, I knew there weren't many perks to being a hero," Len wagged a finger at him as Barry rolled his eyes before passing the beer back. Barry didn't take the bait to wax poetic about the good in Len. It reminded him of that Christmas after Mardon had broken him out. Barry had made his pitch and instead of telling Len there was good in him to try to convince him to help, he called him out on being a lousy villain. It was the first real indication Len had of Barry's snark, his attitude and unrelenting insistence that he could see through Len's facade.

They sat there in silence for a few moments, neither wavered by the stare between them. Len was amused by Barry's presence, if not a bit curious about his hesitant behavior since realizing Len was back, the younger man's face a mixture of excitement, wonder, and a hint of sadness. It made Len feel at ease that he wasn't the only one experiencing a mix of emotions.

"How long have you been back?" Barry finally broke the silence, his voice almost desperate, strained.

"In the land of the living or Central City?" Len responded, taking a swig of the beer, certain he was imagining the sweet difference of taste at the lip of the glass after sharing it with Barry

"Both?" Barry shrugged.

"Three months on the Waverider after they pulled me out of the time stream, almost a month in Central."

"You've been in Central City a month and I'm just seeing you now?" It wasn't hurt in Barry's voice, more like self-deprecation, like he somehow should have known that Snart had returned.

"Feeling left out, Scarlet Sp-"

"Could you not finish that name out loud, please?" Barry quickly interrupted, his voice an aggravated whisper. "I mean, Jesus, Snart this isn't exactly a place I'd like to advertise my alter ego."

"Fine, but quit calling me Snart. Believe it or not, it's not a name I'm fond of hearing roll past your lips like a swear word," Len said, pointing a finger again at Barry as the other man opened his mouth, "and don't even think of calling me Leonard, Bartholomew."

"Lenny?"

"If you fancy being shot. Reserved for Lisa only."

"Leo?"

"I'm above the age of nine, so no," Len sighed, "Len will be fine, kid."

"Okay, fine, but can you stop calling me 'kid'? I'm thirty years old," Barry sighed as he reached across the table to steal a couple of cold fries from Len's abandoned burger plate.

"No can do. I did my first stint in juvie before you learned how to run even at a normal speed," Len smirked, pushing the plate towards the middle of the table to give Barry easier access.

"Actually, I wasn't even born yet when you first went to juvie," Barry grinned cheekily at him as he plucked two more fries from the plate. "Your record said it was right after you turned thirteen and I wasn't born until three months later."

"Brat," Len raised an amused eyebrow, Barry just chuckling as he chomped on the pilfered fries.

"Old man," Barry winked. So he'd done his research on Snart. Not surprising considering his profession. What was surprising was Barry seemingly being unfazed by the over decade age difference between them.

"You're really not helping your case to get me to stop calling you kid."

"Whatever, Len," Barry asked, putting a little extra emphasis on the name as he wiped the salt from his hands before clasping them atop the table. "So, what have you been doing since you got back to the city?"

"I had to find my feet again," Len replied, deciding to opt for the truth rather than be coy, despite his instinct to poke a little fun at the speedster. It was obvious he was either disturbed or relieved at his return, if not both. "Most of my safe houses were gone, my apartment. I had to track down Lisa and let her know I was alive, that was a lot of fun to explain. Haven't exactly had an opportunity to plan a grand heist to get the Flash's attention."

"Please, don't feel like you have to on my account," Barry smiled, moving a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "So three months on the Waverider?"

"Yeah, when they pulled me out of the time stream I was a little scattered, talking in riddles, couldn't have a clear thought, wasn't sure where I was," Len broke the gaze finally, eyes fixating on the bottle between his hands again as if he needed to focus on the tactile sensation to ground him. "I couldn't carry a conversation or sit still for more than a few moments. Everything was either echoes of the past or rhymes about-"

"The stars?" Barry interrupted. Len's head snapped up to look at him.

"How-"

"The same thing happened to me...when I came out of the Speed Force," Barry smiled sadly, recognizing Len's questioning look before continuing his explanation. "I spent six months in the Speed Force to save the city until the team was able to pull me out. The time stream and Speed Force must be connected. I was drawing all over the walls, talking nonsense about the stars."

"How long were you like that?"

"A day or so?" Barry shrugged.

"That's it?" Len couldn't keep the jealous incredulousness from creeping into his voice. He had been stuck like that for two months before he could make sense of anything.

"Yeah," Barry shrugged again. "Joe told me Iris was in trouble and it just snapped me out of it."

"Ah, true love," Len couldn't help the eye roll that followed. And then suddenly Len was able to start to put words to those emotions evoked from seeing him at Jitters earlier. The first was a twinge of the feeling of longing that took form as minor envy.

"Something like that." It was that sad smile again on the man's face. Len decided then and there that it was the expression he saw Barry wear the most and he much preferred when the kid's eyes lit up with excitement or even flared with rage. Or that damn chuckle that he hadn't been able to get out of his head since this morning.

"What happened? Last I saw you you two were engaged."

"It's a long, long story," Barry sighed. "And despite your claim, the pickled eggs here are gross and I'd much rather not spill my guts over them."

"Well, last time we were here you bought me dinner," Len stated, meeting Barry's eyes before taking another sip of the beer.

"I think what you meant to say is you stuck me with your check," Barry glared, narrowing his eyes as his lips curled in a hint of a smile.

"What I meant to say was I owe you dinner," Len said, gaze unwavering. There was that second feeling he could now identify, he had been energized for the first time since being back when he saw Barry at Jitters, and it was now taking shape as boldness. "Somewhere you'd maybe be a little more comfortable 'spilling your guts' as you so eloquently put it?"

"Yeah, sure," Barry scoffed, looking incredulously at Snart until he noticed no hint of the snide smirk on the man's face, just an unwavering stare of steel-blue eyes. "Wait, for real?"

"Come on, we had some fun the last time we got together," Len looked away coyly before taking a swig from the bottle, pretending not to notice how Barry's eyes tracked down to his lips before swallowing nervously.

"Fun?" Barry shook his head, "I don't know about 'fun'. Memorable, definitely."

"Teaming up with me is a one of a kind experience, kid," Len smirked. "I know you've missed me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Barry cocked his head, his eyes smiling.

"Fine, how bout I flatter you instead," Len was quick to respond. That third feeling, confidence. The longing, the energization, it was the affirmation he did know of at least one thing he wanted for sure since his return, and it gave him the confidence now to go all in. "I've missed you, thought about you. When I was off with the Legends just thinking about the smug 'I told you so face' you'd have if you found out about some of the undoubtedly pseudo heroic things I took part in. And sometimes I wished you were there with us, the fun and trouble we could have gotten into because we do work well together when we're on the same page. And sometimes I thought about you just because I wanted to."

Barry could feel his heart quickening, taken aback by Len's brazen confession, unsure how to handle the information he was receiving as Len delivered it with soft eyes and no trace of teasing.

"Snar-Len," Barry corrected himself quickly, clearly flustered, swallowing nervously as he sought clarification. "I have this kind of track record of misreading a situation to the point where I embarrass myself...what are you saying exactly?"

"I'm saying I've thought a lot about you and me. I'm not a changed man, Barry. I'm still the same guy you knew before, just with a new perspective, a perspective that includes how I see you."

"I'm not interested in a new Leonard Snart," Barry interrupted then, shaking his head, all nerves gone as he became the one to clarify. "I was never interested in the man I thought you could be like you were some project. I always knew who you were really are, the man I saw, the man in those moments between pretense. The man you now know you are."

"Then it's settled," Len said, reaching into his jacket pocket for a few bills to leave on the table and then reached again to pull out his phone. After a few taps of this thumbs, Barry's phone chimed with an alert.

Confusion was the first emotion that flickered across the younger man's face as he pulled his phone from his pants pocket, looking at the screen. A text from an unknown number with nothing but a snowflake emoji in its message.

"How could you possibly have my number?" Barry looked up from the phone, that smile without a hint of sadness the desired effect.

"Please, Barry, don't insult me," Len winked at him before excusing himself from the table. "Be seeing you."

And with that Snart left the bar, unsure if he'd ever return. The place held nothing for him now other than the man he left behind and a new memory. Maybe there was something to that cliche sentimentality of closing a chapter. It felt like he was finally ready to start a brand new one. What he did know for sure was something he suspected long ago, that his interest in the Scarlet Speedster was more about the man behind the mask. And the more he saw, the more he wanted to see.