When Piper got home he half expected James to be waiting by the front door for a tackle-hug, then remembered the clingy cuddle slut wouldn't be back until the shift with Kendra was supposed to have ended.
"Oh…what to do with some me-time." Piper breathed. It's not that he didn't like having James around, quite the contrary. But a nice long bath and a night watching the PBS documentaries he'd taped and set aside in favor of entertaining his new boyfriend sounded really good.
Piper ended up falling asleep in front of the TV. He woke up around 3 am and instinctively reached behind him for James, but of course there weren't arms wrapped around his waist or a face pressed against his neck.
"Huh. Guess I really do like being smothered." Piper muttered groggily. He reached for his phone, intending to call James and tell him he could come back now. He didn't need to know Kendra had been gone for hours.
James didn't pick up. Piper shrugged it off and went to bed.
He woke up again around six when James clambered in through the window and landed on him. Piper had him pinned to the mattress with a flute pressed against his throat before he was coherent enough to notice it was his boyfriend and not an attacker.
And he was wearing a prison jumpsuit.
Piper let him up. James rubbed at his throat. "Kay, ow. But good instincts, I guess."
"You look like you've had an interesting night." Piper said, tapping his flute against his palm. "What happened?"
"Roscoe sucks and Flash is a tool."
"Yes…that's been the case, but it doesn't always lead to you getting arrested. You broke out reasonably quickly though."
"I just scooted out through the hole Sam made in the wall." James jumped off of the bed and started stripping out of the prison uniform. "BT dubs, we don't have to worry about Roscoe overthrowing Len and making our lives a living hell anymore." He started sifting through Piper's dresser for jammies.
"Oh." Piper hugged his knees to his chest, suddenly more alert. "Why not?"
"Cuz he kicked it. He also left a massive death trap all over Central before he did. We spent all frickin' day collecting Roscoe's bombs, and at the last minute Flash diffuses them and hauls us to jail. What a selfless pillar of morality, huh? I mean, me and Len and the guys, we're just bums. Y'know, we didn't risk life and limb bringing dangerous explosives back to our hideout or anything. Least that's the way Picture News is reporting it."
"I'm sorry James…I can't believe he hauled you all in. You were essentially helping him."
"That's what makes him such a tool! No shades of gray to that guy." De-jumpsuited, James flopped onto the bed next to Piper and glared at the ceiling. "You're either Gandhi or the Joker to that jack ass. No in-between."
"Why was Roscoe trying to destroy Central?"
"…cuz he's a douche? Well, he was a douche, more like." James corrected with a smug grin. "I dunno, didn't question it. I think his spinning was rattling him a bit. He said it was giving him super mind powers, but…yeah, I'm not gonna miss him."
"He's really dead?"
"Yep. Saw the body and everything."
Piper frowned. "Maybe things will go smoother with our team ups then. I don't think anyone else wants to be leader."
"Sounds like a nightmare to me. Keeping a bunch of egotistical unstable costumes in line? No thank you. You'd have to be repellently responsible." James snuggled closer to Piper, who started stroking his hair. "I wish I knew where Flash lived. I wanna leave a bag of flaming dog shit on his front stoop."
"That's all you'd do if you knew where he lived?"
"I'd do other things too, but you gotta start with the classics."
"I suppose. I'm wiped. Let's plan your revenge against Flash later, okay?"
"Okay Pookie."
Piper grumbled, but gave up actively protesting the endearment. "You're lucky you're pretty."
The rest of the Rogues had all sprung themselves or been sprung from Iron Heights by the end of the week. They met up at Len's for a poker night which consisted not so much of playing cards but of bitching about Flash, Roscoe, and their week at Iron Heights. This time Mick was conspicuously absent.
Piper and James hovered near the back, sipping at sodas as their friends got progressively more shit faced. Piper decided they might as well swap theories then and there; it's not like anyone would remember their conversation even if they noticed it.
"So where do you think Mick is?"
"Huh? Dunno. Is he still in Iron Heights?"
"No, he broke out with Mark on Thursday."
"Oh." James frowned. "I don't know how that warden keeps his job."
"The same way the security staff at Arkham does, I'd guess. Somebody has to be willing to replace you before you can be fired."
"True enough. Piper, Mick's not conspiring against us. Just because Roscoe did, it doesn't mean you should start suspecting everyone. If anything, I'd guess he's out with Kendra."
Piper tapped his fingers impatiently against the soda can. "I just wish I knew where he was though. He never skips poker."
James shrugged. "It's a little weird, but it happens. You okay? You've been awfully nervous lately."
"No I haven't. What makes you say that?" Piper snapped. James quirked an eyebrow.
"Well frankly…that."
"Sorry. I don't know."
"It's not me, right?" James asked, lowering his voice.
"Of course not. In all honesty, you're the only part of my life I'm happy with right now."
"Oh." James wasn't sure how to respond to that. But Len's house surrounded by tipsy Rogues definitely wasn't the place to discuss it, so he opted to let it go.
"I think I'm ready to head in whenever you are." Piper said.
"Yeah, I was done with this party two ginger ales ago. You think it's worth bothering to leave separately?"
Piper snorted. "I think we're okay."
They started towards the front door, but stopped when it was suddenly flung open. A petite blond girl with a tear stained face stomped into the main room.
"Uh…can we help you miss?" Piper asked, as he and James seemed to be the only ones to notice her emotional entrance.
"Yeah hon, this probably isn't the place you wanna be. In fact, it's probably the last place you want to be." James said.
The girl glared at him. "I know exactly where I am-"
"Clearly not, because these drunk guys in the Technicolor suits? They get grabby." James interrupted, indicating the less than modest orange dress she was wearing. "You might wanna come back with a full body trench coat."
Somehow the intensity of her glare increased. "Shut it. I'm not here to talk to you." Without warning she pressed a large blue jewel to James' forehead. He went cross eyed trying to look at it, before being suddenly propelled across the room where he crashed into the TV, banging his head against the wall. He slumped over, unconscious.
"James!" Piper ran to him, carefully extracting him from the remains of Len's furniture. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
The Rogues who weren't passed out trained weapons on the stranger. Then Len's eyes widened with recognition. "L-Lisa? Whudaryou doin' here…attacking my friends?"
"Sorry Lenny." She held her hands up, glancing warily at the different gimmicked weapons. "The thing just had more kick to it than I expected. Your buddy'll be up and as obnoxious as ever in no time."
"Hartley? Do we need to call Kendra?" Mark asked.
Piper flicked the jewel off of James' forehead and started prodding at him. He let out a small groan and sat up.
"I feel sick."
"Haul him to the can!" Len barked.
"C'mon James, easy does it." Piper helped him to the bathroom, just in time from the sounds of the retching noises.
"Well Leese?" Len asked. She rolled her eyes.
"I didn't come here to attack anybody. I want to join you guys."
"Absolutely not!"
"Hey, we could hear her out at least." Mark said. His eyes were clearly not on Lisa's face, or even where he was aiming his weather wand.
Len fixed his cold gun on Mark. "That's my baby sister."
"Oh. Er, nice to meet you miss." Mark said, flustered. "But we actually don't need any new members, recent vacancy or no."
Lisa's lower lip trembled. Then she erupted into violent sobs. Len tossed his gun aside and led her to the sofa, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "Hey kid, calm down and let's talk-"
"That's why I need to j-join you!" She sobbed. "The vacancy…I need to kill the F-Flash…you guys can help me, I know you can! Please? I've, I've got a costume and I'm working up some gimmicks-all cold themed, just like you. We could watch each other's backs again, just like old times Lenny. I know I look like a mess right now, but I swear, I can be just as good a Rogue as any of you."
"Lisa, we've never been trying to kill the Flash." Piper spoke up from the hallway. James was leaning against him, still looking disoriented.
Lisa scowled. "He's your enemy, isn't he? Don't lie to me."
"Yeah, but he's also a member of the Justice League." Piper said. "We've got no interest in finding out what his friends would do to us if we actually killed him."
"There are rules for the group Lisa." Len continued. "And not killing capes is right about the top. We even swap notes on Kid Flash, just to make sure we don't fire more at the kid than he can handle. Sides, you're doing so good on your own. Why throw that away?"
"So wait, let me get this straight. The Flash just killed one of your friends, and you're all okay with that?" Lisa asked, sounding close to hysterics again.
"Who'd Flash kill?" James asked. Piper shushed him and helped him sit down, since it sounded like he might be sick again.
"Roscoe Dillon!" Lisa shrieked. "The Top! Flash murdered him-he needs to pay!"
"Listen kid, I dunno where you got this idea that Roscoe was buddies with us. We worked together, yeah, but…" Len trailed off, noticing the level of Lisa's distress. Something clicked in his head. "Oh hell. This isn't about joining me, is it? How the hell did you know Dillon?"
"I can't put words to what Roscoe meant to me, not yet." Her hands clenched into fists as she stood and walked towards the door. "But when I do, Flash, Central City, and all of you worthless Rogues will be a captive audience to it. I'll avenge my Roscoe on my own if I have to-and don't think for a second big brother, that you're going to stop me!" She slammed the door behind her, sprinkling the welcome mat with plaster from the cracked ceiling.
"Y'know, I don't see the family resemblance."
"Shut up Tricks."
…
"There it is."
Len sat down on a bench by the snack vendor at the Central City ice rink and waited. He'd known for years that Lisa visited the public rink for a pressure free fun skate on Tuesday mornings (when it was relatively slow anyway), he'd just never bothered to make use of the information.
He hadn't really wanted to be involved in her life. It wasn't that he didn't love his baby sister, quite the opposite. She was doing so well as Lisa Star. Fate didn't need to be reminded that she was a Snart, and that Snarts were failures. He'd kept his distance since he'd left their childhood house (the word home had never felt quite right), but he'd never been fully absent from her life, which had been riddled with anonymous donations and mysterious grants. She'd made it clear at the poker game though that such distance was no longer necessary.
Len had barely waited twenty minutes before he saw Lisa step out onto the ice. She looked as cool and controlled as ever, sliding right into one of her routines. He remembered watching this one on TV last year for some big charity skate event. That was nothing to seeing it in life. She moved with fluidity and grace yet everything was controlled, every smooth lift of her leg, every jump, every perfect spin was all marked by her intention.
He'd known she'd skate her way out of the hellhole their Dad had created. Of course he didn't need to bring Lisa with him into an unpredictable and dangerous life of crime. She was fine on her own. Nothing to feel guilty about…nothing to…
Lisa suddenly went into a fierce spin that Len didn't remember seeing in the original routine. Her skates whipped up shards of ice as she spun more and more violently before suddenly collapsing, legs akimbo on the powdered mess she'd made of that particular section of rink.
Len was running out to her before the importance of his lack of skates caught up to him. He ended up skidding, falling and crashing into the plexiglass behind Lisa. "Oof!"
"Lenny?" She wiped at her face. Oh, she'd been crying again. His stomach gave an anxious, involuntary squeeze. Even this many years later, he still expected to be hit when one of them cried. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you. What's it look like?"
"It looks like you're kicking yourself in the face. Why'd you run onto the rink without skates you big goof? You're such a klutz. Geeze, you're not even wearing cleats." She helped him up and walked him to the ring of benches along the outside of the rink. Her smile was strained, her own uncomfortable reaction to being caught in tears.
"You okay though kid? I saw you spill out there…"
"That was just, just the spinning. He taught me how to do that, you know." Lisa chewed her lip. "I guess Roscoe didn't mention it, but he was my skating coach."
"Really?" Len blinked, startled. "Shouldn't he have had some kind of qualifications or something?"
Lisa snorted. "I figured I was good enough that I'd just pick whoever was cheapest and was gonna give me the most freedom to do my routines and things the way I wanted, so at first his lack of credentials was an asset. God Lenny, I miss him so much. I still can't believe he's gone. It just feels like he's taking some time off for a big heist or something, y'know?"
Len shrugged. In truth he thought Roscoe was a pretentious, conniving bastard. Clearly Lisa saw a side of him he hadn't shown the Rogues. He decided not to press the issue. "Look Leese, I've been talking things over with the guys since you came by the other night, and to an extent we think you're right. We can't just let Flash get away with bumping one of us off."
Her eyes lit up. "Of course you can't! So, so does that mean you're going to avenge Roscoe?"
"We still don't wanna murder the Flash. But we do need to do something big. The guys are all working up some master plans right now. Piper was buzzing about something at length the other night, but now he's being all moody and secretive about it so it's gotta be good. And Trickster, well, he's still trying to push this Kool-Aid thing he worked up, but-"
"So what do you want me to do? Y'know, to help?" Lisa asked eagerly.
Len frowned. "My point was, we'll take care of it for you. So you can keep skating and…um…whatever it is you do with a normal life."
Lisa's face twisted in anger. "I used to spend my downtime with my lover until Flash took that from me! How can you say all this bull about protecting me from your world, wanting me to have a good life when my life is gone now! Lenny, you left me with Dad, you cut me outta your life and let's face it, you don't even know me anymore. So stop pretending."
"Leese, please, I'm trying here. We'll make Flash suffer as much as we can, I promise. There's no reason to throw your life away."
"I just told you." She sniffed, hugging herself protectively. "I don't have a life without Roscoe."
"Lisa…" Len shook his head sadly and stared at his clenched hands. He was sorely tempted to go out and desecrate Roscoe's grave. He wanted to do something to attack the dead man in the off chance it would make him feel the tiniest bit better about the head games Roscoe had played with his sister.
"Hey Len, um, why don't we stop talking about this for a little while and just try to catch up first? I, I did kinda miss having my big brother around. Not gonna lie, that's more than half the reason I wanna do my Flash vengeance with the Rogues." Lisa squeezed his hand. "I mean, I'll still do it on my own if you're gonna be this stubborn about it, but, um, well it'd be nice to see you every now and then."
"Yeah, yeah it would. Wanna grab lunch sometime?"
"I'm free now. C'mon, I just gotta get these skates off!" She grabbed his arm and tugged him towards her duffle bag.