Archive of Our Own ^beta

   Leonard knew who the Flash was. Okay, maybe it wasn’t fair to phrase this in a casual, insouciant way considering the preposterous time and effort poured into the process of unveiling the mystery man under the red mask. He utilized all there was to use of his criminal expertise to dig up the most secret of secrets in Central City and he wasn’t disappointed. Barry Allen, CSI at CCPD, father serving his sentence at Iron Heights (he’d probably met him there a few times before breaking out multiple times) after being convicted of his wife’s murder, currently living with the Wests, right-handed, and so on. He couldn’t say the only reason behind this was taking advantage of this knowledge to bring the speedster down. I mean, with or without the costume, the Flash turned out to be hella cute. Perhaps he thought he needed a change of plans, in a way that made conciliation of his current enemy feasible. Such as, Operation: Seduce the Flash-type of plan. Len was pretty damn confident in his ability to seduce.

   Now being ahead of the game was his favorite part of being a criminal. Since Barry Allen was still unaware of the fact that Len was aware of who he was, he imagined pranking the kid was a charming idea.

   It wasn’t difficult to find Barry’s whereabouts as much as it was to find the Flash’s. That was why Len was stepping inside Saints & Sinners at 8 in the evening; a bit too early for his usual alcohol indulgence hour. He had never imagined Barry to be there, and clearly, this was the first time the kid paid a visit, ‘cause Len frequented that bar and knew it----including the customers----like he knew his own enthusiasm toward stealable expensive objects.

   Len approached the unsuspecting back of Barry and indifferently sat by his side. The kid’s glass was half-full; he couldn’t guess whether Barry was not much of a drinker or if this was his fifth fill or something. Despite the intrusion of personal space, Barry paid no attention to Len but appeared to be immersed in his own world. Wordlessly boring into the melting ice in his glass said a lot. But oh man, it was the first time Len got to study the face he’d so desperately wanted to see in person. A glance at his every nook and cranny and he was more than satisfied. From what he knew, Barry had been single for most of his life. But what he saw next to him was some elysian-level features. Len could not comprehend how the universe could leave this angel’s subcelestial incarnation available for so long…Wait, what the hell was going inside his mind? He was supposed to be the levelheaded, unflappable tactician, not some drooling romantic. He blinked displeased as the bartender trudged across to him.

   “Hm?” She simply raised her left eyebrow. Len knew her, she knew him----he always asked for the same drink so words were unessential. He nodded.

   Tonight, though, Len needed to draw his victim’s attention.

   “Ice cold,” he stressed. The bartender scoffed like she was unimpressed.

   But what it did do was have Barry Allen’s alarmed head whipping around to see the infamous Leonard Snart chilling beside him. Even though Len wasn’t meeting his eyes, he could sense the entirety of the confusion, surprise, and even fear all muddled up in the stare searing the left side of his face before it was gone and the kid was suddenly choking on air. A slight movement indicated that Barry was about to take his leave but changed his mind and rooted himself back down on his stool. Sure it was funny; his thoughts were plainly readable. Apparently fleeing as soon as he noticed Captain Cold gave away too much. The speedster in a quandary radiated so much feeling of despair Len thought it was even tangible.

   “Something troubling you?” Len chuckled as he received his glass. As no reply came, he turned his head to see Barry taut and stiffened as a log and unable to hear what Len was saying. “You okay?” He asked again, this time more directly.

   Len almost felt bad for him when Barry jumped and fumbled for his drink. “Oh, me? You were----oh. Uh, I’m fine. Totally fine. Yeah,” he stammered. The poor boy looked no different from a deer caught frozen in the headlight on a forest road. “Ah, I, um, I get startled easily,” Barry added as if he realized his former statement was anything but convincing. After a nervous weak laugh, he sipped his drink to avoid eye contact. How in the world did you manage to keep your identity a secret? Len thought.

   “Alright…,” Len eyed Barry with amusement. “Am I being too nosy if I were to ask what brought you here?”

   “W-what?” His presence must have been truly frightening for him. Which, frankly, Len found oddly satisfying.

   Barry straightened up and cleared his throat. “Uh, it’s nothing. Well actually, it isn’t, but problems at…work (sure…which work, hmm?)…are crosses we all bear, right?” It was pretty evident that he was struggling to retrieve the composure that had long left him. The half-smile didn’t do much to cover it up.

   “No doubt,” concurred Len. “Especially today where things are going too…fast.” He didn’t miss the subtle flinch at the word.

   “Fast, huh,” Barry murmured at an almost inaudible volume.

   “That’s right. Sometimes I feel the urge to slow certain things down.” He intoned this while slowly draining the glass and staring fixedly into the eyes of a very blanched Barry Allen.

   “…Like the Flash?” Barry whispered. He must have blurted what was floating around in his head because in a second the Oh Shit-expression hit his face. “Sorry, it’s just the correlation between the word ‘fast’ and that dude that everyone’s making a commotion for all around the----.”

   “It’s fine. I know you know me,” Len looked ahead and shut him up with the nonsensical excuse. Oh, the fear in Barry’s eyes. “I was told I’ve made quite the television debut. ‘Captain Cold’, was it? I like it, and fans, too.” As he said so, he turned again to see Barry. It was like watching him defrost----he thinks I think he knows me from the news. The speedster’s tensed shoulders sagged from relief.

   “Just to clarify, I don’t happen to be your ‘fan’,” he pointed out, blankly churning his liquor. “You…you kill people. And rob them.”

   “First, you’re astonishingly brave to say that in my face. Second, I don’t kill for sport. Only when necessary.”

   “Well it didn’t look necessary the other time,” Barry snapped a little harsher than what was probably intended. The ice in his glass clinked from the abrupt stop of movement.

   “The other time?” Len tilted his head.

   “I-.” The kid was at a loss for words. He’d spoken like he had been on the spot. “I’ve heard that you killed an innocent person to get the Flash not long ago, alright?”

   Of course, Len knew what he was talking about. On the day of the first confrontation with the speedster, he ended up taking an uninvolved civilian’s life. But he had been regretting his rash choice of action, too. He honestly thought Barry would be fast enough to shield the man thereby taking the blast himself, only that he wasn’t…Come to think of it, that was not much of a great excuse, either. Len tasted a sudden bitterness.

   “That…was a mistake. One that I wouldn’t make again,” he promised more to himself than to him. Although he was a thief and a liar, he didn’t fancy it----murder----in his conscience.

   “I hope you’re truthful,” Barry commented, after which he quaffed the rest of his drink. A short silence hung in the air.

   “Well, I suppose my plan to personally make you my fan failed big time,” Len set down his own emptied glass. Barry seemed to consider this sentence for a little while before he proceeded to gawk at him with a questioning glint. He then narrowed his eyes.

   “Were you----.”

   “Yes.”

   “Why----.”

   “Because you’re cute,” Len claimed without even batting an eye.

   The look on Barry’s face now was even more a spectacle than when he initially saw Len sitting next to him, but with shock and embarrassment rather taking up a dominant percentage. Instead of the paleness of a ghastly skeleton, a faint tinge of pink began to spread starting from his cheeks like he was a rose blossoming or something. Really, his natural physical reactions continued to steadily betray him.

   “You’re----you, the Captain Cold…is interested in me?” Len could not decide whether this was leading to a promising end or not.

   “Why else would I be sitting here when this bar is practically deserted?” He ignored the bartender shooting an angry glance in his direction. Still, it was true. He was one of the few regulars that kept their business running. It was a wonder Barry chose to come to this exact bar today because there were a plenty of bustling ones out there.

   “Wow.” Barry slumped down and stared at his glass like he was bemoaning the lack of alcohol at the time of dire need.

   “I can buy you another drink if you need it,” Len casually offered.

   “No, no. I’ve had too much already and I don’t get drunk anyways,” he rubbed his eyes, trying to wrap his head around this entire baffling situation he’d bizarrely found his way in.

   “You don’t get drunk?” That was a new piece of information. Plan Tipsy Barry out.

   “What? No!” He sounded more like he was surprised at himself. “I meant easily. I don’t get drunk easily…and why the hell did I even say that.” It was too late to cover that up, but Len thought Barry looked dazed enough even without the ability to get stoned.

   “Jokes aside,” Len rested his head on his right hand. “Should I view your response as favorable or not?”

   Barry made a strenuous effort to lift his gaze and lock eyes. Len at least knew something was triggered; there was a gleam of confusion and hesitation stirring in the boy’s pupils. He could only guess what a maelstrom must be raging behind those beautiful set of eyes. Leonard Snart----his enemy who’d robbed him and even fatally hurt him----declared that he was officially into him and was flirting with him. At the same time, Barry didn’t know that Snart was perfectly aware of his covert night job. Talk about irony.

   The awkward quiet was getting a little old when Barry suddenly pursed his lips like he made up his mind and then opened them to speak up boldly.

   “Yes.”

   “Sorry?”

   “Consider it favorable,” Barry affirmed, now wearing a mysterious smirk.

   It was the speedster’s turn to award Len with surprise, this time. Len was already working on his plan of walking out after a disgusted denial and giving him a call anyway to tell him he knew his secret. But phew, this was better, no, so much better than the alternative route. Whatever it was that compelled Barry to answer with such unforeseen conviction, he was ready to sing praises to it.

   “And the day couldn’t seem to get any better,” Len remarked, pleased.

   “I don’t do dates. Much less with a criminal. But since you’re asking, I’ll bite,” Barry bashfully confessed. The scarlet smile suffusing on his face was simply angelic, if you ask Leonard. He then felt like he was far luckier than he’d figured he was.

   “Everything’s peachy,” Len said.

   Barry was about to take out his phone but was stopped by an odd sensation of an empty pocket. Len heard Barry muttering “Shit,” under his breath and decided it was about time.

   “This is yours,” Len handed Barry’s phone back like nothing out of ordinary had happened. Barry squinted his eyes at the screen reading ‘Cold’ with Len’s number displayed below it. He scowled aghast. What, I’m a high-functioning thief, remember?

   “When the hell did you even take my phone?” He reprimanded, snatching back what was his’. The boy held the phone close to him putting on an expression of a mother of an abducted child. He was probably afraid Len saw anything related to his nonprofit line of work involving tights and lightning, and rightfully so. Len was going to teach him how to actually keep some things secret starting from how to make invisible the STAR Labs and Flash associated apps. But for now, he chose to play blind.

   “I rob banks. I sneak into galleries. I had an irresistible urge to pick your pocket when I saw yours screaming to be taken.”

   “Okay, thanks for your number but no thanks for stealing my phone,” Barry laughed halfheartedly like he couldn’t believe it.

   “Won’t happen again. But I already know your number, so don’t bother giving me yours,” Len coolly stated, which led Barry to present him another look of shock and terror.

   “You gotta find a way to ask people out without being a creep,” Barry sincerely advised. “Please tell me you don’t know my name yet.”

   “I don’t,” Len lied.

   “Good. It’s----,”

   “Bartholomew Henry Allen.” He couldn’t resist it. Barry’s reactions!

   “For real?” The look of defeat was priceless.

   “But I’ll go with Barry.”

   “YOU CREEP!”

#####

Epilogue

   'Cold’

   A familiar name blinked on the screen of his buzzing phone. Barry blinked with it several times because it was so familiar but looked too out of place to be real. Who knew he would be Leonard Snart’s type? Who knew he’d find himself in a bar where Captain Cold would come and hit on him? Who knew Snart was into guys anyway?

   Barry repeatedly told himself that accepting Snart’s invitation on a date was merely a means to discover a new way to put an end to the man’s evil profession. It was almost like going undercover like in spy movies but instead of James Bond, he was pulling a Bond Girl. Maybe if Barry succeeded in making Leonard Snart infatuated with him he could trick him into cutting his wingtips or even talk him out of the other side of the law. He was not going to let Snart’s legacies of felony carry on in one way or another. And never, ever, was he going to admit that he was somewhat attracted to the freaking villain. Redamancy? Hell, no. Right? It wasn’t going to happen, right?

   He lifted the wailing cell phone off the desk and paused for a few seconds with his finger hovering over the receive call button. Caitlin was so gonna kill him for doing this, let alone Dr. Wells. Cisco? Eh, not so much.

   Nonetheless, it was going to happen anyways. It was time to start being ahead of the game and deal with things in an unconventional way. The ringing of his phone sounded like the prelude to the Goodbye-Leonard Snart saga.

   Barry swiped the button and held his phone to his ear.

   “Hello?” He said.

   There was a momentary silence filling the void, leaving Barry tensed for some reason.

   “Hello, Flash,” the voice beyond hummed.

   Well, shit.