A/N: Not at the bottom for how Len hijacked this chapter. :-)

That same buzzing roared in Len's ears a moment—taking Lisa in, focusing through the dark on her features that he hadn't been able to fully picture before now. Suddenly, here she was, and he felt both a sharp pain from the rumble of memories trying to break through and a heartfelt urge to hug her.

He chose instead to step back as he dropped his arms from pinning her to the wall. His eyes drifted to her gun, like his in too many ways, and just as lethal.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, not wanting to risk waking Barry in the other room.

"Duh," she said, rolling her shoulders and straightening out her leather jacket, "what do ya think? Flash took you, Lenny. I wouldn't have thought much of it, the kid doesn't have it in him to rough you up, but then you stayed gone. You didn't call. Not even to check on the haul I got from 1st National—and I'm keeping your share for that, by the way," she rambled on impressively before narrowing her eyes at him. "What gives? What are you doing here? I was afraid Flash had snapped and stashed you in that pipeline of theirs."

Len wracked his brain for memories of a 'pipeline'—right, Barry had told him it was where they had been keeping people with powers until recently. "Why would he put me in there? I don't have any powers," he said reflexively.

Lisa eyed him with palpable impatience. At least she was keeping her voice low. "You're not answering my questions, Lenny. And what…what are you wearing?" She swept her critical gaze down the length of his S.T.A.R. Labs sweats.

The fact that he was talking to his criminal sister, who had no idea he was mostly a blank slate right now, finally registered.

Len had a decision to make; he couldn't stall forever. But if he told her the truth, what would she do? He had all of these vague ideas of how his little sister used to be, what she meant to him, what he was willing to do for her, but no returned memories of what adult Lisa was like. What if she tried to force him to leave? They committed crimes together on a good day, had faced off against The Flash—together. What if she tried to hurt Barry…?

"Lenny?" she said again, and while her frustration remained, her eyebrows slanted in concern. He instantly wanted to hug her again, to just hold her for a while, tight and close…but he fitted his face into a sneer instead.

"I'm working an angle here, Lisa," he hissed, trying to harness what Cold would sound like—sardonic, Cisco had said. He could do that. "The Flash is right in the other room. You want to blow my cover?"

A look of surprise, then annoyance, then elation flitted across Lisa's face in that order. "Asleep? Is that why we're whispering? Lenny…" her voice turned playful and she pushed half-heartedly at his chest with her free hand, "are you playing house? You're just too cruel. Why wasn't I invited? What's the con? Willing prisoner? Or reformed thief?"

How easily she believed him only gave Len another reason to dislike his alter ego. "He trusts me for now, that's all that matters," he said, using his disgust in himself to fuel his snide tone. "If I don't get back on his good side after our recent betrayal," he didn't actually know the details around that other than it involved meta humans, "we'll never be able to use him to our advantage again. But if he catches you here…" He raised an eyebrow pointedly.

She made to cross her arms, but still held her gun, so she clipped it to her jeans—a minor respite. "Fine, but I so deserve to be in on this. What were we just talking about the other day, Lenny? If you get to play with Flash, I get to play with Cisco. It's only fair." She batted her eyes at him—it felt especially familiar, something he remembered as what she used to flirt with others and almost equally to coerce him.

The way his stomach flipped with guilt, wanting to keep her happy whatever the cost, was definitely remnants of big brother giving in to baby sister's whims. Not this time. "No," he said firmly, "I don't want you," hurting the poor kid's feelings, "screwing this up for me. It's too early to bring you in. They'll catch on."

Lisa eyed him skeptically, like he was keeping all his good toys to himself. She ducked around him suddenly and strode toward the lounge. "He in there?"

"Lisa!" Len spat an angry whisper, reaching for her hand. She was only teasing him, though, since she allowed herself to be caught.

She looked back at him with a knowing smirk. "Just how in disarray is the Scarlet Speedster, Lenny? Coz it looks like you're wearing his laundry."

It hadn't really dawned on Len that Lisa had been implying something along those lines the entire time, though when he thought back on 'playing house' and several other choice comments, it should have been obvious. So Captain Cold had wanted Barry too, or at least Lisa thought he did. But what would Cold have done with him if he got him…?

"Don't get excited," Len frowned at her, "for the moment, his innocence is still intact."

She frowned back at him then instantly perked up again. "But he's out of costume, right? You so oh me his secret identity, Lenny. Let me just take a quick peek. Pretty please." She pouted and bounced on the balls of her feet.

She didn't know Barry's secret identity? But he did. He knew and had never told his sister? Thank goodness she'd made that clear to him, because now he knew to make a concerted effort not to use Barry's name.

"What makes you think I'd let you do that?" he threw back at her, defiant, still holding her wrist.

Her pout deepened. "I can't believe you and your 'I gave him my word' crap, Lenny. You gave him your word about the meta humans and still sabotaged that mission. What's the difference? Oh…" she smirked as she answered her own question, "because one works in both our favors, and the other lets you keep part of The Flash all to yourself. You're so ridiculous. You want to fuck the kid, I'm not one to blame you—that ass in that suit is suburb," she said unabashedly, "but if you let him twist your head around…"

Len released her wrist. He knew he'd lost too much of his Cold expression, but her words, the way her expression softened, caught him by surprise.

"Well," she said with a subtle shrug and something sad and wanting in her eyes, "don't act surprised if I follow suit."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Len asked, more honestly curious than was probably safe.

She didn't seem to catch on though, instead looking like she felt some sense of pity for him. "You can't fall in love with this kid, Lenny. I said you needed some normal relationships in your life, and I meant it. But how can being with The Flash ever be normal? You're just going to get yourself hurt again."

Len stared at her, all sense to keep up his ruse lost.

"He's a good guy in every sense of the word, and your lifelong ambition is to one-up everyone who crosses you. I don't want to see you with another asshole, Lenny, that's not it. But if you want someone sweet and normal and not a part of this life, then it needs to be with someone who's not going to turn you into the cops at the end of the night. You don't have it in you to go straight." A bitter smirk pulled at her lips, and she nodded her head back toward the lounge. "Obviously."

Len wanted to tell her that he did, that he didn't want to be the man she thought he was, but then she'd know, she'd really know, and he didn't know how she'd react. He held himself back but he couldn't help asking, "And what about you?"

Her smirk shifted into a genuine, wistful smile as she looked off to the side. "I said it before, Lenny…gentlemen are hard to come by in this business. Cisco sure would be nice to try on… Might be fun to pretend for a while, like you're doing in there."

"If you're just going to pretend with Cisco then stay away from him," Len said before he could stop himself. He liked the kid. He was brash and brutally honest, but he meant well; they all meant well. When he saw the way Lisa squinted in confusion instead of anger, he hastily added, "You'll ruin what I'm trying to accomplish here, Lisa. Enough trust to get what we want from them when we need it. Just that; no heads getting twisted anywhere."

She raised an eyebrow at him, then scanned down his S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt. "Whatever you say, Lenny." With a toss of her hair, she huffed and moved around him, ready to leave.

He wanted her to go, he couldn't risk what would happen if she didn't, but he still felt that pang, that need to comfort her, to let her know how much she meant to him. It was difficult to sound like he imagined Captain Cold would while saying, "I didn't mean to worry you." He glanced over his shoulder, and when she turned back to him, she smiled.

"You do you, Lenny. I can take care of myself. But I'll always be around if you get in too deep. Call me when you're done playing with The Flash, okay? Or better yet…come home. But I'm still not giving you any of the haul from 1st National," she winked.

The laugh that left Len was natural, organic, something he was sure would have left him even if he did remember everything, and while it meant that pang diminished somewhat as he watched her walk away, a new one took its place.

She didn't believe he could be anything but Captain Cold either, and it clearly pained her to know that they were in this cycle together—there was no way out even if they both wanted it.

Len backed up until he hit the wall beside the entrance into the lounge. His breaths came labored, and he felt a tremor working up from his fingertips. He just had to breathe, and focus. He wasn't going to remember. He wouldn't allow himself to remember. And once he made sure of that, he'd go to Lisa and tell her the truth. She'd have to see then that things could be better, they had to be better. He didn't want sweet and normal if that didn't include Barry.

He didn't want to live a lie as Captain Cold, with some asshole or a replacement. He wanted this life, the chance to start over as something better, with these kind people who blindly believed in him. He thought they were wrong, foolish, but as long as he never remembered, maybe that wouldn't matter.

The buzzing was back, and he pressed his palms to the sides of his head as if enough pressure could keep it away.

A hand gripped his wrist.

Len gasped, swinging his arms down and staggering back. The silhouette of Barry stood there, tall and ominous in the dark. He'd heard everything. No…

"You're shaking," Barry said, surging forward, his features visible as they melted into concern. He wrapped his arms around Len and pulled him into an embrace. "Why did you lie to her?"

And Len gasped again, choking on tears that weren't there. He'd felt the panic rising, and in one fell swoop, it was dismissed. Barry trusted him implicitly, even having heard all that. "I…I was afraid she'd try and make me leave with her, or…" he slid his arms around Barry's waist and squeezed, "…or blame you for what happened."

"Len…" Barry's voice held nothing but affection.

"You knew I was lying?"

"To her? Of course. Your heart's beating a mile a minute, you're shaking in my arms, and you looked like you were about to have another panic attack the second I came around the corner. All I had to do was see you to know it was an act for Lisa's sake. You don't have to ever worry about me not trusting you, Len."

"Don't think I'll make the same mistake again."

Len jerked out of Barry's arms, but the kid kept an impressive grip on his elbows. Barry's eyes were as kind as ever in the dark, and worried—those downturned eyebrows that just wrecked Len.

"Half of me thought making a deal with the devil was just part of the job, but the other half honestly wanted to believe there was some part of you that was decent. Joke's on me, right?"

Len closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had never heard Barry sound as venomous as he did in those faint words swirling in his memory. But Len didn't want to remember. He wouldn't. He needed to push it away, as far down as it would go, and bury it with something better.

"Len? Len, please, look at me," Barry pleaded with him—the real Barry, there in front of him, who trusted him when he never should.

Barry, who blushed, and stammered, and could ramble on forever, so adorably twitchy. Who always found small ways to touch Len. Who looked him in the eyes and cared so deeply simply because he was a good kid. Who made something low in Len's gut clench with unfamiliar, delightful nerves. Who had this amazing power that Len could feel thrumming beneath the skin. Who could so easily help him forget everything he never wanted to remember…

Len opened his eyes to see Barry's hazel close—that magical color that could be blue, or grey, or green depending on his mood or the colors he was wearing. Len had always loved eyes like that—he knew it, and yet he couldn't recall a single other face with eyes like these, and he didn't want to. He only wanted Barry. He didn't think he'd ever wanted to kiss someone this much in his whole life.

"Len?"

And Barry's lips were so soft, the cells forever regenerating to make them feel like the most pleasant thing Len had ever pressed his mouth to. He pressed further forward, while pulling Barry in closer by his arms, each of them gripping the other's elbows for support.

Once Barry moved past the initial shock of the kiss, he didn't try to stop it, but leaned his head just subtly left, parted his lips, and slid his tongue past Len's teeth with eager confidence.

The taste of Barry's tongue, his lips, the way their near identical height made it so easy to fit together, banished everything from Len's mind other than this.

He reached for the soft wool of Barry's T-shirt, something worn and comfortable he'd slipped into before they settled on the sofa for the movie. Len pulled Barry closer in synch with stepping forward into his body, until he felt resistance as Barry's back met the wall. It made it so easy to sink against him, licking deeper into his mouth and nibbling gently at his plump lips when he pulled back.

Barry, in turn, kissed as if he hadn't embraced someone like this in months, years. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd always been interrupted, or pulled away because the recipient wasn't the one he wanted. It was a nice thought, that there might be only a meager few who had ever held him like this.

Len pressed his palms to Barry's chest. He could feel Barry's heartbeat, pounding faster than any normal person's ever could, a steady rhythm urging them on. Then a strange sensation washed over him as Barry moved his hands to Len's hips and slid them around his lower back, like they were trembling but at an impossible speed. It made Len want to grind his hips forward.

"W-Wait…" Barry panted out of the kiss. He held his hands out to the side as if afraid to touch Len again. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks flush, his lips darkened and swollen. It made Len want to lick his way between them again. But he leaned back, keeping his hands braced on Barry's chest if only to keep some connection, hoping he hadn't done the wrong thing.

"Sorry," Len said—he never seemed to be anything but. He couldn't have read Barry wrong with the way the kid kissed him back, could he? "I just…really wanted to do that."

Barry laughed, this happy, amazed, beautiful sound. He blushed darker and his left hand dropped as his right reached up to run fidgety fingers through his hair. "Me too. I mean…it was nice. I just think maybe it's late, and a lot's been happening, and you're still shaking…"

Len's hands were shaking again, even pressed there to Barry's chest. He started to pull them away, but Barry caught them, his fingers curling around Len's as he held their hands between them.

"We should go back to bed," Barry said. "To sleep!" his eyes widened, "I mean…you know, not…" He sighed dramatically—it was too cute for Len not to laugh in relief.

He was disappointed though, and maybe it showed in his expression, because Barry paused a moment and reached one hand to his face. His skin was as soft as his lips had been. He pulled in slowly, pressed his lips briefly to Len's but with promise, so much wonderful promise, then smiled blindingly as he pulled away.

A different buzzing filled Len's head as Barry led him by the hand around the corner back into the lounge. His exhaustion was starting to creep up on him—not having really slept, the stress and pain of remembering too much, of seeing Lisa and not knowing what to do, but missing her even as he was with her—and he just wanted to sleep.

When Barry helped him lie down and then moved to lie back in his usual position—head to toe—Len opened his mouth to protest.

"We'll have to tell the others the truth about Lisa coming here," Barry said.

Len sat up quickly.

"She'll show up on the security cameras, Len," Barry explained. "If I try to hide that, Cisco will notice."

The cameras. Len knew about them, but hadn't really considered what they could see. "So…they'll see the kiss in the morning too," he realized.

Apparently, Barry hadn't thought of that. He ran both hands through his hair as he sat up—the pair of them, legs not quite side by side this time, but entangled, sitting up at either ends of the sofa. "Shit, I completely forgot. I mean, Cisco already knows that I—" He snapped his mouth shut.

"Knows…what?" Len prompted.

"Well, umm, so…he sort of has a thing for Lisa."

"I gathered that. Seems she shares the sentiment," Len shrugged. He couldn't really be sure how much she honestly liked him; so much of her words had been misleading, but he had this feeling the true parts were when she looked sad and longing.

"Right," Barry said as if that didn't surprise him in the least, "so it's pretty common knowledge that Cisco thinks she's hot, even though he thinks he shouldn't since she's one of the bad guys. And one time when he was sort of ranting to me about it, I may have…confessed that I think you're pretty hot too. I was trying to make him feel better!" Barry blurted when Len smirked.

"Oh, so you don't think I'm hot?" Len teased.

Barry caught on quickly and gave a shaky laugh. His hand went to his hair again. If the kid didn't heal quickly, he'd make himself go bald before long. "I just mean…he won't be completely shocked. And Caitlin knows I'm bi. She's caught me checking out…people before." It seemed Barry was purposely leaving out specific names when he said 'people'. "And she has a much better memory while drunk than I gave her credit for, but…well, they probably won't freak too much, I'll just need to get ahead of that, tell them what really happened, so they don't accidentally let Joe see. He hasn't quite warmed to you yet."

Len sobered somewhat thinking of Joe. "Right. So…what'll you tell them happened?"

Barry's face went blank, then softened. "The truth tends to work best."

"And what's the truth?"

Barry smiled. The kid's honest, happy grin had to be the brightest, purest expression in the universe. "You kissed me, I kissed you back, and it was really…really nice."

Len laughed. He could live with that.

He pulled his legs in so they were crossed, then leaned forward and propped up on his feet until he was hovering all in Barry's space. Part of him wanted to press his luck, but he really was tired, and this was all fresh and new and the best distraction from all the things that terrified him about who he really was. He kissed Barry like Barry had last kissed him—firm and promising, but brief enough not to push too hard.

Barry was all teeth when Len pulled back. Len wanted to ask the kid, as he'd meant to before, to flip around, lie next to him. But then the sofa wasn't quite wide enough for that so they'd have to be cuddled up. Maybe it was asking too much.

Wanting whatever he could get away with, he kept their legs tangled up when he finally laid back, and rubbed a foot along Barry's calf. Barry shivered.

"We'll figure things out with Lisa," he said, once they were both settled in again. "I'm sure she'll understand in time. You just need a few days to figure out how much you're going to remember."

Nothing, Len hoped, but if he needed more to distract him from what kept rising to the surface, "Yeah, we'll work it out," there was no better diversion than Barry Allen.

Barry was so relieved when he awoke well before Cisco and Caitlin would arrive, even if he probably needed more sleep. It meant he could get showered and dressed for the day and be ready to face the others before they had a chance to look at any camera footage.

Barry wondered if maybe he could just not say anything. They might not look, since they trusted Len now, but then both of them were careful people, diligent even when trusting, especially after what had happened with Wells. Best not to tempt fate.

For now, he tried not to think of it. He got into the shower, since he needed to be ready for work, and was tempted to flash his way through it for once, but then…he was a little distracted thinking of the previous night. He needed a few moments to reflect, alone, under the heat of the water. He wouldn't risk anything sordid when Len could come at in any minute, but remembering their kiss—several kisses, but especially that first deeper one—made him bring a hand to his neck…and down his chest.

He really had confessed to Cisco that he thought Cold was hot. Mutual character flaws, they had decided, finding their enemies sexy—it was something to bond over, especially since both of them had then sputtered out how much that in no way meant they would ever do anything about it. That Barry now had a very good excuse for ignoring that mandate just meant he was the lucky one.

And besides, Barry had heard Lisa. Sure, she'd covered well, played her part, but there was something there, Barry was sure of it. She'd sounded too mournful, too honest. Barry didn't understand how Len could have been so panicked after that, when to Barry, it was just further proof that things could turn out okay.

As he showered, it started out as just humming at first, washing his body vigorously to keep his hands from doing anything else. He wasn't really thinking about it. Lyrics came next, and while he began soft and under this breath, it was so natural for him, singing in the shower…

Along your way
Abandon my faith
In being alone always
It's what you undo
And why I'm unglued

A smooth baritone voice that Barry did not expect joined him on the chorus.

You got away

Barry cut off before finishing the first phrase, but the other voice soared on.

You got away with me
I left myself open

"Len?"

"Why? Expecting someone else?" Len sounded amused. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. You can keep going. I guess I know that song too."

Very few people knew that song, but then Barry figured he shouldn't be surprised that Len would know a song from a band called Cold, though the female guest singer was more the lead on that one.

But that had been Len's voice—singing. Captain Cold could sing. Did he happen to like a song Barry did by chance, because he liked the music too, or only because of the band's name, Barry wondered. Whatever the answer, Len had been surprised to learn that Barry could sing, but this…this was too much.

"I was up so I figured I'd hop in beside you if you don't mind," Len said when Barry didn't respond.

For a split second Barry thought the man meant literally beside him, and turned toward the drawn curtain with his hands pulled into his chest like he might need to cover up at a moment's notice…before it dawned on him that Len meant the next shower over. Barry could hear the shuffle of clothes being removed, then the curtain to the shower next to his being pulled aside.

"Is it okay?" Len prompted with a little more hesitation.

"Oh!" Barry was being such a goon again. "Of course, go ahead."

"You don't have to start singing again if you don't want to, you know?" Len said more humorously, relief flooding his voice as he pulled the curtain closed.

Barry pressed a palm to the tiled wall between them—the only thing between him and his once-enemy, as vulnerable as either could get.

And suddenly all Barry could think about was that scene from Elf where Will Ferrell was listening to Zooey Deschanel sing "Baby It's Cold Outside," and the pun, the perfect pun of that song in his head at that moment had him laughing so hard, he nearly slipped and had to right himself against the wall.

"What so funny?" Len's voice echoed around Barry with the acoustics of the bathroom.

"Oh, uh…nothing, just thought of something really inappropriate."

"Oh yeah? You definitely owe me more of the song then," Len said with a slight huskiness to his voice, and that was new—wonderfully new.

Nerves fluttered in Barry's stomach. Larger crowds were easier somehow, but singing on command to just one person, or even a small few, was always harder for him. A crowd you could perform to, but individual people made it feel more intimate. He took a breath, and thought of where he'd left off on the song.

So simple and strange
How you rearranged
Chills that I get
Your creeping into this

And when Barry got to the chorus again, Len joined him on the lead in, echoing his words with the part of the duet that was missing.

It's what you undo
(You make your presence known)
And why I'm unglued

They sang a couple rounds of the chorus together, but eventually fell to laughing. Barry was done showering, ready to get out, so he did, toweling off as he chuckled about having actually just sung in the shower with Leonard Snart accompanying him. If he had a 'never going to happen in a million years' bucket list, he would have something to tick off.

Barry dressed at Flash speed, if only to avoid the awkwardness of Len coming out of his stall to find him naked or half-dressed again like the previous morning. But then as he thought of something to say to recover from the silence the end to their singing had created, he looked back at the stalls.

It was instinct to turn toward the person you were about to talk to; Barry didn't mean anything by it, he wasn't trying to peep on purpose…but it was only curtains covering the shower stalls, and there was just enough space between curtain and tile for Barry to get a straight on view of Len through the slit.

Len was turned just so, under the spray of water, letting it flow over his head, while keeping his hand over his stiches to protect them, the water cascading down his shoulders and back, and further to the toned muscle of his ass and powerful legs. He was broader than Barry, more filled out and muscular, while Barry had a sleeker build. The scars that had caught Barry's attention when seeing Len shirtless before were easily forgotten when viewing the full picture.

Barry swallowed thickly. He should not be peeping like this, it was wrong…so very wrong…

And right when he was about to avert his gaze, Len looked over his shoulder, having felt the presence of eyes on his skin. Barry felt his cheeks flush with heat, too embarrassed to turn away.

Len grinned at him—not even a little embarrassed, the cheeky bastard.

"I'll, uhh…give you some privacy." Barry tore his eyes away, dressed and ready to grab his clothes from the night before and bolt out of the bathroom in a flustered panic.

"Not a problem, kid," Len's voice answered him, and it sounded so much like something Cold would say, in the same teasing voice, and yet still so much friendlier and affectionate—interested in Barry and where his eyes had strayed—that Barry didn't mind at all.

TBC...

Len took over the story again. The kiss was not planned. I've had the first kiss planned since the start of this...and it was not going to happen here, but Len just...did it, and I was powerless to stop him. I guess he was getting more impatient than you guys. ;-)

If you've never heard You Got Away by Sierra Swan and Scooter Ward from the band Cold...go now! My husband and I always sing it together, and it just fits coldflash so well. :-) Plus did other people know Wentworth Miller can sing? I Googled it on a whim, and wow...not disappointed.