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~*~
His heart was pounding, adrenaline making everything crisp and clear. Gloves on, sleepy security, and a pretty little magic artifact sitting on its velvet tray, waiting like a princess in a tower for rescue.
"Coast is clear!" Ray's voice curled smoothly in Leonard's ear; the receiver didn't even crackle. Cisco's tech rivaled even what the Waverider could provide, and that made Leonard's brain itch in a really satisfying way. However, he didn't appreciate Ray's encouragement—it made him want to do the exact opposite. Terrible time for his contrariness to rear its ugly head.
He shook his head sharply, trying to refocus, and deactivated the pressure plate with a deft twist of his fingers in the delicate guts of the security system. A slow, deep breath to keep him calm, and he lifted the top of the box.
It was empty.
"We're screwed," Leonard reported. "It's not here."
"Retreat," Sara ordered. "We'll have to track it down again. And I've got company. Great."
Leonard didn't have any sympathy for the security guards who must have stumbled onto Sara, and he carefully set the box lid back in place, closing the security panel. A quick peek out the door and he was home free, alone in the corridor. He peeled off his gloves, stashing them safely in the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket, and then walked through an area that was technically off limits and open to staff only. In a matter of minutes, he was back in the party proper, squinting in the sparkling chandelier lights.
The air was thick with cloying perfume that Leonard could almost taste, and he desperately fought the urge to sneeze. There was a cool breeze off to his left, a door to a balcony that had been left open, and part of him wanted to step outside and chill while the rest of the team regrouped. The problem was that along with Cisco's tech, Sara had also decided to let Team Flash tag along as back up. He'd never hear the end of it if he peaced out early.
Not that he blamed them—someone should have a healthy dose of skepticism when he was involved, since it sure as hell wasn't Barry.
Leonard took a champagne flute from the tray of a passing waiter and took a sip, casing the room out of habit. He found Barry almost immediately; Gideon had outfitted them all for the evening, and Barry looked distractingly good, his slim waist and long legs earning more than one admiring look from the people around him. He'd gotten better at his poker face, although the cracks in the facade were there if you knew where to look. And Leonard, despite the fact that it had been several years since he'd made a trip back to his home town, could still read Barry's face like a well-loved book.
Barry's attention sharpened, and Leonard followed his line of sight, spotting a beautiful older woman: Vanessa Mandretti, the host of the night's shindig and the owner of the black-jeweled tiara that Leonard had just attempted, and failed, to steal. He wished they'd known she was going to be wearing it. Widow. Rich. And according to Constantine, voted most likely to use magic to bring her dead husband back to life and rip a hole in the veil between worlds while she was at it.
"Guys," Barry hissed, his voice a whisper over the earpiece, "I see it, I can grab it—" The pressure in the room changed, subtly charged with electricity, yellow lightning flickering in Barry's eyes.
"Stop!" A clamor of voices that made Leonard wince, and he slipped out his earpiece, tossing it into a nearby decorative plant. Comms were bad enough with justone group of people who didn't know what they were doing; it was impossible with two.
Barry flickered, leaving a brief afterimage of lightning and a rush of wind—then he stopped as their warning caught up with him. He tripped over his own feet, staggered a few steps forward, and stumbled right into their target. She startled badly, her hand rising to her throat, and then tugged the hem of her dress from beneath Barry's foot.
So much for covert.
There was a part of Leonard that wanted to lean back and watch the scene play out—Barry's face was already turning a humiliated shade of red, and the smile on Vanessa's face was tight and brittle. Maybe he'd see some magic at play?
There was a larger part of him, however, that had learned to step in when someone else dropped the ball, and it would be just as fun to see the look on Barry's face when he realized who rescued him.
Leonard was moving forward before he'd consciously made his decision. Struck with a burst of inspiration, he stepped up to Barry's side, pressing his palm to the small of Barry's back. "Ah, there you are. I thought I lost—Ms. Mandretti, are you all right?"
Vanessa's forbidding attention diverted from Barry to Leonard with the sound of her name. "May I ask who you are?"
"Of course. Where are my manners?" Leonard passed his champagne flute to Barry and offered a handshake. "Leonard Wynters. I run a start-up out of Charm City. And this very clumsy young man"—Leonard looked over fondly at Barry, who looked petrified, his fingers curled tightly around the glass he'd been given—"is my plus one for the evening, Barry Swift."
Vanessa shook Leonard's hand, brief but firm, and then brushed off her dress, looking with a critical eye to see if Barry had damaged the fabric.
Barry finally managed to find his tongue and stammered, "I—I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. I don't know anyone else here but Lenny, so I was… a little anxious." Barry took a step closer to Leonard, pressing into Leonard's side.
Leonard turned a smile on Barry, surprised at how fast he picked up the lie, and a burst of delight shivered in his belly when Barry smiled back. His eyes were so green it was unfair.
Realizing he was looking at Barry longer than he intended, Leonard dragged his attention back to Vanessa. "I shouldn't have gone hunting for liquid courage." He gestured to the champagne flute in Barry's hand. "Did he damage your dress? Please, let me pay for repairs." In his right inner pocket were the business cards he had Gideon make for his alias; he pulled one out and offered it to her.
Vanessa looked between the two of them, something about her changing from brittle tension into a more relaxed warmth. "My Antonio used to do the same for me, God rest his soul." She smiled as she took Leonard's card, lost in memory.
"I'm sorry for your loss." Barry clasped her free hand between his, the full force of his empathy focused on her. "I read about his passing in the paper."
Which they all had, in fact, before they started the mission. When did Barry get so good at grifting? He was wasted as the Flash, truly.
Vanessa softened further, and she smiled at Barry. "Thank you. We were married for nearly fifty-two years. It wasn't long enough."
"I can only hope I'll be so lucky," Leonard said agreeably. They were on the verge of overstaying their welcome—another word or two, and they should be able to gracefully escape the near-disaster.
"Fifty-two years, hmm?" Barry looked at Leonard from the corner of his eye, a smile pulling at his mouth as he let go of Vanessa and inspected his ringless left hand. "The clock's ticking, baby."
Leonard blinked at Barry, lips parted in surprise. His brain buzzed with white noise, and his throat and face prickled with embarrassed heat. Was he blushing? Never did he think Barry would actually follow his lead on this—he'd been teasing himself, pretending for a few minutes that Barry was his cute, young date, so why was he the one off balance?
"He isn't wrong," Vanessa teased, taken in entirely by Barry's mischief.
Out of instinct, Leonard smiled, hoping it wasn't a grimace. He raised Barry's hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. "I think that is a conversation we'll have at home." To Vanessa, he said, "I'm sorry for the disturbance. This is a wonderful party."
"I'm delighted that you think so." She reached out and patted Leonard's shoulder, a small smile of her own pulling the corner of her lips. "I have it on good authority that there will be dancing soon. You might want to take advantage of it."
With a final twitch of her skirts, she moved past them, her attention flitting to a spot across the room. Leonard's shoulders relaxed a fraction. Meltdown avoided. He tucked Barry's hand into the bend of his elbow and lead him away, bee-lining toward the open balcony doors.
Once they were in a more private area, Barry also relaxed, his breath gusting out of him in a long sigh. "Thanks." Barry almost ran his hand through his hair but aborted the motion at the last second, as if remembering the hard work and product that was put into his hair.
Leonard looked around to make sure they were alone, and then pulled Barry with him to the railing, so it would look like they were admiring the view if anyone joined them. "What were you thinking?"
Barry winced in a way that Leonard refused to find attractive. "Don't worry, I'm getting reamed about everything right now. You'd know that if you turned your earpiece on."
Leonard shook his head. "I threw it into a plant. Nothing like a bunch of people yelling at you to ruin immersion."
Barry blinked and tilted his head in thought; in the next second, he slipped his earpiece out and tossed it into the bushes below them. He almost immediately relaxed, squeezing Leonard's arm and leaning against the stone railing of the balcony. He stole a quick look at Leonard from the corner of his eye—Leonard only caught it because he hadn't stopped watching Barry in the first place.
"I can't believe you've stuck with the Legends this long," Barry said, turning his attention to the people walking in the garden below them.
Leonard shrugged. "It's never boring, that's for sure. We're always getting into the craziest shit."
Barry laughed and bumped Leonard's side. "You like them. They're your friends."
Leonard glowered. "I can still leave you here."
Barry shrugged, not even the least bit concerned, and Leonard averted his eyes, staring blindly at a tree to his left as nervous butterflies took residence in his stomach. He was too old to be having a crush. Then again, everyone had a crush on Barry except for Mick—not enough tentacles, he'd said, and Leonard wasn't going to unpack any of that—so it wasn't like Leonard was special in that regard. It was just… nice. Something to daydream about.
The first notes of an orchestra filtered out into the air, and Barry grinned, pushing away from the balcony railing without letting go of Leonard's arm. "There's that music she promised."
Leonard swallowed. "I think she might be suspicious if we don't take advantage."
Barry smiled, bright and genuine. "I'll follow your lead. Worked well enough last time, don't you think?"
Leonard tugged Barry to his side and let Barry's hand fall from his arm, interlacing their fingers instead as he leaned in. "We're in the home base of our enemy, we have her attention, and we've tossed our communication. Everything's going so well."
"Don't worry," Barry whispered back as they re-entered the ballroom. "If things go sideways, I'll protect you."
"Can you dance?" Leonard asked as they made their way to the other dancing couples.
"Does tap count?"
The question was so unexpected that Leonard actually laughed out loud, and he took Barry's hand, spinning him into place. "No. No, tap definitely doesn't count."
"That reminds me—did I ever tell you about the Music Meister?"
"Are we talking or dancing?" Leonard did know how to dance, so he took the lead, guiding Barry in the steps. One hand on the small of Barry's back, the other clasped together with Barry's. Whispered instructions—"Turn here… perfect. Remember, we're moving together, don't yank. We have room, wanna spin? Don't know why I asked, of course you want to spin."—and it was nice. Easy to forget they were on a mission, even though he did occasionally see Vanessa looking at them. It was fun, and no one could blame him for wanting to stretch the evening just a little longer.
Their fun came to an end when a tiny Ray landed on Leonard's tie and crossed his arms over his chest. The way he landed had him facing Barry, so at least Leonard was spared the righteous glare.
"Have you guys been here the whole time?" he hissed. "We found your earpieces, we thought something happened to you!" They turned in the dance; Ray grabbed onto Leonard's shirt collar to keep steady. "Everyone's accounted for, except for you."
"Good," Barry said, warm and heartfelt.
"We were dancing to keep our cover," Leonard informed Ray. "If we'd left without it, she would've noticed. Now buzz off, we'll be back before everything turns to pumpkins." Ray made a huffy noise, but he didn't stay much longer, waiting for the perfect moment to zoom away and leave them in peace.
Barry grinned. "You got me in trouble with Ray."
" You got me in trouble," Leonard protested. "You can run away. Sara's going to kick my ass." The song ended while they were laughing, and Leonard shook his head ruefully. "Guess it's time to head out."
"We can do one more, can't we?" Barry asked, his hand tightening where it rested on Leonard's biceps. It was cute, the way he asked for something Leonard wanted to do anyway.
A slower song began playing, and Leonard grabbed the opportunity, pulling Barry closer. "I don't let anyone rush me. You should know that."
"You haven't been back to Central in a while," Barry said firmly. "How would I know what you're like now?"
Leonard laughed again at that. "I should go home soon, then. Remind everyone who Captain Cold really is."
"A hero? Who's saved the world like, three times?" Barry teased.
Leonard glanced down, his attention caught by someone's sparkly shoe decoration. "That's rich, coming from you. You've saved the world at least nine times, according to the papers."
Barry shrugged. "They like to exaggerate."
The song came to an end, and Leonard reluctantly pulled away, walking Barry away from the dance floor. They claimed their coats and started back toward the rendezvous point, since they were apparently the last to show.
"Why do you think she was wearing the tiara tonight?" Barry asked.
Leonard shrugged. "it was an expensive, beautiful piece. Maybe she wanted people to know she had it. Constantine's the one who'll have answers about the magic stuff."
"I'm sorry we didn't end up being a lot of help." Barry sighed. "I like teaming up with other heroes, but I hate being useless."
"You weren't useless." Leonard admitted. "Thanks to you, I was able to make contact. We'll get another chance."
Barry gave him a little smile, although it faded too soon. "Waverider's here," he said, just seconds before a hatch opened in the air and the walkway into the ship extended.
"How did you—"
"The camouflage shielding vibrates differently than everything else around it."
Of course. What a silly question for him to ask. Anyone could feel air vibrations. Through a tremendous act of will Leonard did not, in fact, roll his eyes. "Cool," he said instead. "After you."
They would probably drop Team Flash off in Central City after the debrief. Leonard was surprised to realize he was disappointed.
~*~
"What part of 'It's a dangerous magical artifact, and we need to get it quarantined immediately' is so hard to understand?" Constantine raked a hand through his hair and then fumbled for his cigarettes, lighting one with a touch of flame before he started smoking like a chimney.
Mick rolled his eyes. "All of it. 'Swhat happens when you use big words."
"What the hell—you're a bloody writer. Quit having a go at me."
Sara sighed. "Maybe we can go back to before she's dressed and nab it before the party."
"Won't work," Ava said regretfully. "Remember, some of us were at that party. We can't change something when we've already meddled."
Leonard rested his head against the wall. They'd been going in circles for a while, and it didn't sound like they were anywhere close to stopping. He sank down to sit on the floor and pulled out his deck of cards, shuffling and dealing a game of Solitaire in front of him. They'd run out of steam some day.
"Leonard, we're receiving a call to your proxy number." Gideon's voice cut calmly through the conversation, and Leonard abandoned his card game immediately, pushing his way to Gideon's display. "Would you like to accept it?"
Leonard raised a hand to remind everyone to shut up and waited until the nexus was quiet. "Let's do it, Gideon." He took a deep breath and centered himself before he spoke to the open line. "Leonard Wynters. How can I help you?"
"Leonard, it's Vanessa Mandretti." Leonard tensed, adrenaline tightening his muscles as he worked to remain calm. It was harder than usual with his audience. "We met at my party a few days ago?"
"I remember. Was your dress ruined after all? Please feel free to—"
"Oh, the dress is fine. The reason I called was about you and your young man."
Leonard frowned, ignoring his teammates as they all locked in on him. "About me and Barry?"
"Yes," Vanessa said eagerly. "Have you had any particularly… special moments?"
Leonard shook his head, although she couldn't see him. "No, I don't think so."
Vanessa made an annoyed sound. "Men. It's always like pulling teeth to get details. Have you proposed to him yet?"
Leonard clenched his jaw, glaring at his teammates. Sara smirked; Ava turned from the table entirely in a stiff-backed way that told Leonard she was about to lose it.
"No," he answered after probably too long a pause. "I haven't."
"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Your boy is looking for commitment, Leonard. He'll leave if you don't give it to him."
Leonard fastened his eyes on the screen in front of him and thought about what to say. Barry had been bratty and impatient in his role as Swift. If they had been a real couple, her analysis would be spot on. "I just…" He lowered his voice, letting a little vulnerability sneak in. " I can't find the right ring. When I ask him, I want everything to be perfect."
Silence echoed down the line, and Vanessa sighed. "From my own experience… don't wait for perfect. You never know what you're missing in the meantime. At any rate, I'm going to have a dinner party at my home next Saturday. I'd like you both to attend. It will be a smaller event—I look forward to getting to know the both of you better."
Ray went to another display to coordinate the calendar with Gideon, and Constantine hurried out of the nexus, rattling down the hall and into his room. Leonard stalled, letting his teammates do their thing, and once he got the go ahead, he said, "I think we'd both be delighted to attend. Thank you so much."
"I'm glad to hear it." The smile was warm in her voice. "I'll text my house rules. This one will be a little more relaxed."
The call ended.
"We are… incredibly lucky," Constantine breathed.
"Gideon," Sara said, "Let's get in contact with Barry again and see if he's available."
Leonard stepped away from the console and took a slow, deep breath. His mind was staticky with white noise. He needed silence. Peace and quiet to think. Anxiety twisted uncomfortably in his chest, and he knew it wouldn't go away until he had a moment to begin planning.
"Leonard—" Mick started to say; Leonard shook his head, unsure what his face was showing, and held up a hand as he walked past him.
Mick shut up and nodded his understanding. Mick knew him too well—they would have that discussion later. Much, much later, if he had anything to say about it.
Leonard managed to get into his room without any further interruptions, and he sat down on his bed, dropping his head between his knees and breathing deep until the dizziness faded.
Just as Constantine had said, it was incredibly lucky that they had a second opportunity at the tiara. Leonard clasped his hand, rubbing a thumb over the knuckles of his other hand in a self-soothing habit he hadn't managed to kick.
He and Barry most likely wouldn't have a chance to take the tiara themselves. Mick could do it, provided that they gave him enough time. Assuming Barry was available to help on another mission. Assuming that the tiara would be there. Assuming a lot of things.
Leonard Winters: Charm City, self-employed entrepreneur, dating a bratty younger man pleading for a commitment. This alias was a messy bastard. Invested. Wanted something Leonard himself was too scared to ask for.
"Gideon."
"Yes, Leonard?"
Leonard closed his eyes, took one last deep breath, and rolled his shoulders back. "I think it's time to source an engagement ring."
~*~
Leonard looked into the mirror on the wall, examining his suit with narrowed eyes. Not a tuxedo this time, not with a more relaxed dress code, but the brown tweed was still nice enough to hopefully blend well with the others invited to the party.
There was a soft knock at his door; Barry, always willing to help other heroes with their business. Joining the Legends had given Leonard and Mick a sort of superhero camouflage that had been useful more than once. Even he had to admit that having the ability to time travel certainly made scheduling much easier.
"Hey," Leonard said in greeting, giving Barry a brief nod. Barry looked nice, tidy and put together in a simple black suit and green tie, and with a jolt of longing Len realized he missed Barry's messier hair, the dressed down hoodies and jeans. Wait. Wrong. He didn't actually miss anything. He wasn't close enough to Barry to have things he missed about him. He was just off his game. Repeated exposure to Barry Allen always wore Leonard's defenses down.
"Hey." Barry grinned and leaned back against the door jamb. "Didn't think we'd be teaming up again so soon."
"It's still the same mission," Leonard said mildly, unfastening and refastening his cuff link. "We just put you back in the cupboard until we needed you again."
"Is that how the Legends think about the rest of us?" Barry put his hands in his pockets, lounging in place. "We're just toys? You put us in the cupboard and pull us out when you need us?"
Leonard shrugged. "It's the way I think about you."
Barry laughed outright at that. "You're so full of it."
Leonard mirrored Barry's position, sliding his hands into his own pockets. "Maybe this is a case of pot and kettle. How many times have you nabbed me out of the time stream to help you with your messy little problems?"
Barry rolled his eyes. "That's not even fair, I've only done that like. Three times, max."
Leonard frowned, unsettled and a little stung. "I'll tell Sara to take you off speed dial."
Something flickered over Barry's face, too fast to catch, and he stepped forward, raising a hand. "Wait, that's not what I meant—"
"Leonard, Mr. Allen," Gideon intoned. "We're at the rendezvous point. It's time."
Leonard offered his arm to Barry, who frowned a little, his forehead creasing. "Time to be dancing monkeys."
"We'll talk about this later," Barry promised.
"Of course we will," Leonard lied.
Everyone was as ready as they were going to be, the plan triple-checked. It wouldn't last once they engaged, of course, but it was a solid frame to work with.
~*~
Vanessa Mandretti's home was a small manor house, understated in the way that told Leonard there was real, old money here; not for the first time Leonard wondered what exactly had drawn Vanessa's attention to him and Barry. Their previous interaction should have amounted to nothing, so either she was a deep romantic at heart, living vicariously through other people, or there was something else… a motive Leonard hadn't had time to decipher.
"We can't ditch our earpieces this time," Barry complained under his breath, and Leonard smirked.
"Only if you wanna get yelled at again." Leonard graciously assisted Barry up the stairs to the front door and then rung the doorbell. The door was answered almost immediately by a butler with a clipboard, who asked for their names and carefully checked them off the guest list.
"If you'll follow me, sirs," the butler intoned, and he spun on his heel, leading the way. Leonard and Barry followed after him; out of habit, Leonard kept his eye on the decorations as they passed. Velvet hangings, an old tapestry or two. There were small alcoves filled with pottery and statuettes that he would probably call antiquities, although he would have to get a fence to date them properly.
They were brought into a small, warmly lit parlor. They must have been the last to arrive, because Vanessa was already entertaining three other couples. Her ensemble was less extravagant than their previous meeting, her hair pulled back into a chignon, and she wore an empire-waist blue dress. She actually looked a little under-dressed next to her guests. Interesting.
Leonard smiled at Vanessa. "It seems we're late."
"Fashionably," Vanessa said kindly. "Mr. Wynters, let me introduce the two of you."
Barry, it appeared, was the youngest in the room. There was Zorana Hadjiev and her husband, Andrei; Corrine Wilkes and her wife, Maria; and lastly, Admiral Stephen Gray and his wife Lucy. It was a distinctly odd group of people.
"That's what makes events like these so fun," Barry was saying to Zorana. "The only thing we have in common is Ms. Mandretti, so how would we ever have a chance to talk?"
"You understand my thinking precisely, Barry," Vanessa agreed. "I've found all of you delightful, and I think tonight is going to be very enjoyable."
"Of course it will," Barry said, looking over at Leonard with such an adoring expression that something clenched hard in Leonard's stomach, "Lenny's here. He makes everything more fun."
"You're adorable," Zorana said, a slight Slavic accent coloring her English. "Just wait. Andrei and I have been together for twenty years, and it's only gotten better."
With introductions completed, Vanessa led everyone to the dining room. The table was round and just large enough for the present company, a perfect way to sit that would allow them to keep the conversation flowing and take the pressure away from a more formal seating arrangement. Leonard pulled a chair out for Barry, who smiled. He sat down and scooted in—Leonard let his hands rest on Barry's shoulders and squeezed for just a moment before he drew away to take his own seat.
There was conversation happening around him, an ebb and flow, a tide of words. Leonard responded when necessary and cracked jokes at the appropriate times, one part of his brain operating almost automatically, dedicated to the con. There was another part of him counting the seconds into minutes, noting that the earpieces had been completely silent, which was a good thing and meant that everything was going smoothly. Or it meant the other Legends had been taken out and he and Barry were on their own. It was too early to catastrophize, so everything was fine, and everything was going to be fine.
The largest part of Leonard's attention was occupied by Barry. They had practiced their story, agreed on the timeline of their supposed relationship. Unfortunately, regardless of Barry's experiences, he wasn't the best at undercover work, at making these strangers believe something that could be but wasn't entirely the truth.
He had to trust that Barry had his back. He hated it—adrenaline coiled beneath his skin, and he was restless at the very thought of it. Almost as if he sensed the struggle in Leonard's thoughts, Barry reached out without looking and rested his hand on Leonard's knee, squeezing. Everything in Leonard stopped, frozen, locked in on that casual, intimate touch.
Lisa would laugh at the situation he was in. Skirting on the edge, taking advantage of someone just to get a masochistic look at what he couldn't have—his emotions always interfered when Barry was involved. He looked down at his dinner plate, roast beef half eaten, and swapped for Barry's empty plate without a thought. It earned him one of Barry's surprised, delighted looks. His speedster metabolism made short work of the extra food, so when dessert was fruit and a rich, decadent cheesecake, Leonard passed his slice along, content with the fresh citrus of orange slices.
"I need to watch my figure," he joked to Lucy, who laughed and toasted him with her water glass.
"Just wait," Corrine shook her head at Barry. "You'll hit thirty-five and all of that is going to go to your stomach."
"I'll worry about that when it happens." Barry took a large bite to finish off the cheesecake, playing up his happiness a little for the crowd, and then let go of Leonard's knee, reaching for Leonard's hand and squeezing briefly. It was worse than Barry touching his knee, the way his fingertips slid against Leonard's palm like a question.
Vanessa smiled as she looked over the table at her guests. "I've always thought that dinner parties weren't complete without dancing. I'm going to excuse myself for a moment. Once you're done with your meal, my staff will escort you to the entertainment room."
"Ooh! Lenny, let's go!" Barry—Swift, not Allen—pushed his chair back from the table and pulled Leonard up with him.
Leonard shrugged playfully at the others. "I can't resist indulging him. Enjoy your desserts. We'll get the dance floor warmed up." He let Barry lead him out of the room, trailing after a servant, and in the relative privacy, they bent their heads together to talk.
"I think our comms aren't working," Barry whispered, barely a hint of sound over breath.
Leonard squeezed Barry's hand in acknowledgement. "Focus on doing our best and hope everyone else has their shit together."
"This kind of stuff is terrifying," Barry said, a little louder. A little smoke and mirrors, for anyone listening on their conversation. Good instincts. Despite all the other things moving through Leonard's head, having Barry with him like this was fun. "Everyone's older than me, Lenny. Do you think they like me?"
"Of course they like you," Leonard responded, a little more truthfully than he intended, "Everyone likes you."
Barry gave him another disarming, pleased smile. "Not everyone likes me."
"You're fishing for compliments." They entered the entertainment room—it was as nice as the rest of the place. There was open floor space, obviously meant for dancing, with an excellent stereo set off to the side. Against the left wall, a table set up with various drinks, and to the right was a pool table. There was even a cushy seating area opposite the pool table where people could sit and chat.
"This feels like an upscale prom," Barry said, somewhere between baffled and horrified.
Leonard hummed and went to the stereo to see their options. "I never went to prom."
"I don't really think you missed anything." Barry surveyed the CDs and records before he pulled a vinyl out of the collection and prepared the turntable. There was a crackle of static as the needle met the edge of the record, and a song began to play. "There." He turned back to Leonard with a pleased grin.
"Congratulations, you know how to work a record player." Leonard took the next obvious choice and pulled Barry into a casual two-step. Covered by the music, he was much more comfortable continuing their conversation. "Wanna do recon and see what Vanessa's up to?"
"And maybe get a read on what the rest of the team's doing?" Barry asked.
"After this song, take a bathroom break," Leonard suggested. "That'll get you free from line of sight."
"I don't think I'm that visible when I run." Something of Leonard's thoughts must have shown on his face, because Barry snorted and flicked his finger at Leonard's shoulder. "You're the only one weird enough to track me by my after image."
"The only one clever enough," Leonard corrected him. He was proud of the fact that he was smart enough to keep up with The Flash. Maybe it had been so long since they went toe-to-toe that Barry had forgotten exactly how dangerous Leonard was.
Barry patted Leonard's chest, palm resting over his heart. "You're still my favorite Rogue." The light caught Barry's eyes in a way that made Leonard forget how to breathe, but then Barry blinked and the moment was gone.
By this time, the other guests were starting to filter in, and the quiet murmur of conversation filled the room, making it more welcoming. The song ended, and Barry stepped away, going to a staff member to get directions to the restroom. Leonard wandered over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting off the top.
Maria and Corrine joined him, choosing cups of punch. "How long have you and Barry been together?" Maria asked.
"Two years," Leonard said, tilting his head and offering a soft grin.
"We're about to hit our tenth anniversary," Corrine said. "Honestly, we were a little nervous before you two joined us. It's always weird to be the only queer couple, especially when you're surrounded by strangers."
"I know what you mean," Leonard agreed. "I'm actually a little surprised at how welcoming Ms. Mandretti has been to everyone."
"I think she's lonely," Maria said, but Leonard's attention diverted from her when Vanessa appeared at the door, her hand curled around Barry's arm; it looked casual, but Leonard knew from experience how insistent she could be. She'd also taken the time to change her jewelry—around her throat was a simple necklace with a black gem at the center.
"Speak of the devil," he said, and the ladies laughed. "Pardon me. I think I need to rescue him."
"I don't think I'm the right person to ask," Barry was saying to Vanessa as Leonard sauntered over. "Lenny and I were the first ones in here, so I don't know about anyone else."
Leonard arched an eyebrow at Barry—Barry shook his head, barely visible, and Leonard turned his attention to Vanessa. "I didn't have the opportunity to ask at your last gathering, but I hope tonight you'll grace me with a dance."
Vanessa gave Leonard a narrow, distracted look. "I suppose that's acceptable, so long as Barry here agrees?"
"You promise to give him back?" Barry pouted.
Vanessa smiled and patted Barry's cheek. "I don't think I could keep him away, dear boy."
Leonard grinned and took Vanessa's hand. "I'll let you choose the music." As she looked through the music, he took another look around the room. Barry joined Maria and Corrine at the refreshments table; Andrei and Steven had started a game of pool, and their wives had chosen the little sitting area where they could continue their conversations. There were staff members planted at each exit, and if Leonard wasn't mistaken, he saw glimpses of security walking the halls. It wasn't particularly unusual to have security staff when you had means, but he did find it interesting that their presence had gone from unobtrusive to visible.
The music started playing behind him, and Leonard turned to lead Vanessa into the dance. "Is everything all right?" he asked conscientiously. "You look a little concerned."
"Everything is fine," came her immediate answer. "I had to iron some things out behind the scenes."
"Of course," Leonard said. "It's one of the reasons I don't host many of my own. I'm running behind the scenes often enough at my job—I don't want to do it when I'm supposed to be having fun." Now that they were closer, Leonard stole another look at the necklace, flipping through his mental Rolodex of black gems. Not onyx, obviously. Not obsidian. Definitely not opal. Why would she leave at the tail end of supper to change jewelry? It would be just their luck if she had more than one magical MacGuffin. If this happened again, Constantine was on his own.
Too many inconsistencies were stacking up, and he didn't like it one bit. He needed to get Barry out of the room without drawing any further attention to run through the manor at least once before they left, but he hadn't missed the way Vanessa had casually prevented Barry from leaving the room the first time.
He thought about the engagement ring in his pocket. There was, after all, more than one way to cause a distraction.
"Perhaps I was a little optimistic, planning two parties in two weeks," Vanessa said. "I'll need to take a break after tonight." She paused for a moment as she focused on the dance, and then looked back up at Leonard. "I didn't see a ring on his finger."
Pressure for a proposal again. Vanessa might be smart and magically talented, but she wasn't subtle. Leonard made a show of looking around to spot Barry; he was far enough away that he wouldn't have heard their conversation. "I thought I told you I was waiting for the right moment."
"Ask him, Leonard," Vanessa said gently. "He won't say no."
The song came to an end, and he relinquished Vanessa easily. "I guess the worst that'll happen is I'll be humiliated in front of strangers I'll never see again. Wish me luck?" Leonard winked, a victorious little thrill running through him at the gleam of excited greed in her eyes. Hm. She desperately wanted their engagement to happen, enough to be sloppy about it. Interesting.
Sometimes the only thing you could do was walk into a trap with your eyes wide open.
He went back over to Barry, inclining his head toward the women who had kept him company, and leaned close, casually resting his hand on Barry's back again. A moment or two of small talk, and then Maria and Corrine set their cups on the table and left to take their own turn on the dance floor.
Barry leaned into the touch and turned his face, pressing his mouth to Leonard's ear. "I don't know what happened. I was about to leave and she just showed up out of nowhere."
"It's fine," Leonard said. "I've got a bigger distraction for us to use."
Barry tilted his head, pulling away to get a better look at Leonard. "What do you have in mind?"
Leonard swallowed, his throat abruptly and painfully dry. The thing was, he wanted to tell Barry, to prepare him in some way, but Barry was such a bad actor that Vanessa would clue in immediately. It wasn't real. He could do what he needed to do. "You're not gonna like it," he admitted.
"Why? Is it more flirting?" Barry grinned and stepped fully into Leonard's space, his fingers catching at the belt loops on Leonard's hips. He scratched playfully at Leonard's belt and pushed him off balance just to watch him sway from side to side.
Leonard felt a little sick to his stomach, guilty in way he'd only felt once before, when his father had shot Barry and left him for dead. "Just… just remember it isn't real, okay?" Leonard wasn't quite sure who the warning was for—Barry, or himself.
He took a step back, breaking Barry's grip, and took his hand instead, rubbing his thumb over Barry's knuckles. Barry's attention was laser-focused on him, and he could feel Vanessa watching him from the other side of the room. "I've been thinking about what you said at the party last week. About the clock ticking on the time we have left. Maybe I should do this differently and have your family around you, but for some reason it's easier for me to ask around strangers."
Something changed in Barry's expression, playful confusion breaking open to surprise. "Leonard…?"
Leonard reached into his inner jacket pocket, the velvet box so small in his hand. He gave it to Barry, curling his fingers around it. "I want more than fifty-two years with you, Barry. I want every single one we have left."
Barry's breath caught in his chest, and his eyes flicked from Leonard to the box and back like he didn't know where to look. He opened the box, his hands shaking, and all at once his face crumpled into devastation.
Leonard's chest ached, and he curled his hand against the nape of Barry's neck, pulling Barry's face against his shoulder. Barry gripped hard on Leonard's jacket with his free hand and inhaled a wavering, wet breath. The next was quicker; the one after that, quicker still. Barry was hyperventilating, sucking in air like he couldn't get enough, panting like he'd just spent the last twenty-four hours running across Central, and he was shaking in a way that made Leonard want to take everything back.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he murmured into Barry's hair. "You can say no."
Barry laughed, a hard, wild edge to his voice. He pulled away, wiping his eyes hard with the palm of his hand. "Are you kidding me? Put it on!" His cheeks were a hectic red, blotchy and wet, ugly with pain, and Leonard loved him so fiercely he couldn't breathe.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Leonard managed to get the ring out of the box and onto Barry's finger—a perfect fit, because he was exactly the kind of asshole that would make this kind of a lie perfect—and Barry flung his arms around Leonard's shoulders, rocking Leonard back on his heels.
"It's beautiful," Barry muttered into Leonard's collar.
The other guests applauded, awkward and confused, but Leonard's attention was focused on Vanessa, who was staring at them with a hungry ferocity that she didn't even bother to hide.
"I've got to go wash my face," Barry exclaimed, pushing away from Leonard. He aimed a wobbly smile at one of the maids. "I'm so sorry, can you point me to one of the bathrooms? I'd really appreciate it."
Barry was led—finally—out of the room, and some of the tension made its way out of Leonard's shoulders. Barry would have the opportunity to get the information they needed, and Leonard could keep Vanessa's attention focused on him. He turned to the refreshment table and poured himself a drink. He stared into his cup without drinking, even though he was thirsty.
Maria and Corrine came up to him, sliding into his space in near unison, and they each gave him a hug. "Congratulations!"
"Thanks." Leonard cleared his throat and shook his head, wrenching his attention back to the people in front of him. "My timing was weird. But now that I've gotten it out, it's going to be easier for me to say it again for his family."
"Oh, it was a test run?" Steven and Lucy had come to give their regards, so Leonard turned toward them, his head starting to ache a little. "That's smart. When I proposed to Lucille, I brought us to the place we first met."
"It was a bridge," Lucy said warmly. "He was so nervous he dropped the ring and it went right into the water."
"I'm lucky I decided to stay on solid ground," Leonard joked.
Minutes passed; Leonard noted each second in the back of his mind as he was congratulated by everyone, as Vanessa raised her punch cup in a toast.
Barry was upset, Leonard reasoned. He needed time to calm down.
Just because he could speed through the manor in seconds didn't mean he could come back quickly. It was suspicious.
…For a speedster, Barry was late a lot.
Eventually, Leonard breathed a theatrical sigh and looked at his watch. "I suppose I should go find my new fiance. He gets lost so easily." Vanessa allowed his absence from the room with no trouble, and a maid pointed him toward the nearest restroom.
Barry wasn't there, and Leonard took a long, slow breath. He splashed his face with water from the sink, decided at the last second that he did actually have to take a leak, and washed his hands after he relieved himself.
Now that they were both out of Vanessa's surveillance—excluding the security, of course—Leonard switched gears, easing the door open a crack so he could watch for anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Seeing the coast was clear, he pulled his gloves out of his pocket and tugged them into place before he continued quietly down the hall, choosing a pace somewhere between casual and stealthy.
He peeked into each room he passed, noticing the antique furniture and fine art on the walls, but no Barry. For a moment, he thought fondly of the times he had six months of planning between his heists, what it was like to know a building intimately before he stepped into it. The Legends and the insane situations they discovered did wonders for maintaining the flexibility of his thinking, but he did miss knowing what the hell he was getting into.
He heard a quick "Psst!" to his right, and Barry grabbed his arm as he turned, tugging him into another immaculately styled but mostly empty room.
"What are you doing here?" Leonard asked. "You were supposed to come back to the party after scouting." Barry didn't look injured, at least. his eyes were a little puffy and rimmed red, but he was in one piece.
"I didn't get the chance," Barry said, his mouth twisting unhappily. "I barely shook off the security guard. I can't access the Speed Force. There's something weird going on here."
"You can say that again." Leonard nodded sharply, squeezing Barry's shoulder and guiding him further into the room. Barry without the Speed Force was defenseless, which meant Leonard had to be even more careful. "Okay. Let's put the puzzle together. Everything being equal, Mick should've nabbed the tiara by now."
"Should we make our excuses and get out of here?"
"There's something about this whole thing that's making me itchy," Leonard admitted. On the tail of that confession, Leonard realized he was still gripping Barry's shoulder, and he took a step back, dropping his hand. "I can't put my finger on it. And if you can't do your Speedy Gonzales thing—"
"Leonard," Barry admonished.
"—then we're definitely screwed. No comms? No Flash? What's the play here?"
Barry sighed. "Magic is so cool until you're on the wrong side of it."
"There's no way she knew The Flash was going to be here." Leonard stared at Barry for a long moment. "You're a meta. Why is it affecting you?"
"It's a little hard to explain?" Barry rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm a little different than the average meta. I get my powers from the Speed Force, which existed before me, I think? And I'm pretty sure it'll exist after me. So it's like—"
"A metaphysical connection. It's both inside and outside of you."
Barry nodded. "I'm a conduit. I think she meant to shield against outside influence because she was expecting a magic user, and I just so happened to be caught in the net."
"I got it." Leonard sighed. "Change of plans. I'm pretty sure I can palm a gun off one of the security staff. If I take her out, the entire problem gets fixed."
"Leonard," Barry scolded again.
Leonard tilted his head and glared at Barry. "Our little agreement is only good for Central City, you know."
Barry rolled his eyes. "You're not going to kill a grieving widow."
"I'm not going to give her the opportunity to kill us, either."
"There doesn't need to be any killing! Look, let's just narrow it down, okay? Magic has incantations or magic circles or objects of power—"
"Oh, now you're an expert?" Leonard snapped.
Barry made a low noise of frustration in his throat. "I listen when people talk."
"Who's been talking to you about magic?" Leonard protested, something hot and uncomfortable twisting in his gut.
Barry rubbed his face roughly with his palms. "John Constantine? Your teammate? The guy that's been giving us a crash course on magic since you guys discovered this thing?"
Leonard blinked and settled back on his heels, his irrational annoyance quenched all at once, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on burning coals. "Oh. Right."
Barry crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "I don't know what you're getting mad for. If anyone should be pissed, it's me."
"I'm not angry. Listen, I—"
Barry rolled his eyes, even harder than the last time. "Yeah, right. I forgot. You're Captain Cold, you don't let yourself feel anything."
Leonard was going to strangle Barry Allen with his bare hands and he was going to enjoy it. "You can yell at me after we're done. Do you want to hear my theory or not?"
Barry sighed and slumped against the wall. "Yeah, okay. What've you got?"
"Vanessa's necklace," Leonard said. "It's old. The stone's Melanite. Used for mourning jewelry in the Victorian Era—"
"You're an encyclopedia of the weirdest things."
"Look who's talking," Leonard looked at Barry pointedly. "I'm wondering if she's got more than one magical artifact we should be worried about."
"Constantine said she had the earmarks of an amateur." Barry rolled his head back, resting it against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling.
"Amateurs cause more trouble than professionals."
"Leonard." Barry's voice was thoughtful, slow, like he'd checked out on the conversation. "Magic circles. How do we know which ones are good or bad?"
"No idea. We're supposed to stay away and let Constantine or Astra handle it." Leonard looked over at Barry, who was still looking up toward the ceiling, and followed his eye line.
There was, in fact, a magic circle etched or drawn into the ceiling in the center of the room, maybe ten feet from where they were standing.
"I should've brought my phone so I could take pictures," Barry complained.
"The invitation was clear on the absence of cellphones." Leonard took Barry's arm and carefully maneuvered the circle so that neither of them would be caught inside it. "I don't know if it's a trap, but it's better to be safe than sorry."
Barry nodded. "I think we should try to find more of those. Maybe break them, if they're within reach?"
Leonard arched his eyebrow. "Or maybe the magic is keeping us safe. We don't know what it is, Barry." Barry opened his mouth, but Leonard caught the sound of footsteps in the hall outside and raised his hand in warning.
"Shh, someone's coming." Their little spat had left Leonard rumpled and warm with residual anger, so he tried to smooth down his suit jacket, yanking his gloves off and stowing them in his pocket as he turned toward one of the chairs in the room. "Just… act normal if security comes in, okay?"
"Are you serious?" Barry grabbed Leonard's forearm and crowded him up against the wall. "We just got engaged. You think I'd be acting normal?"
He had a point, but there was no way Leonard was going to give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud. Barry was an awful distraction, so close that his body heat radiated off of him, and Leonard let his options race through his mind in an effort not to choose the worst one.
The room was beautiful—they could be awestruck by the architecture or the art or, hell, sitting down on the little loveseat and talking about their future plans for the rest of the night. They could stare out the window and appreciate the view. They could do literally anything.
Barry stepped closer and slid his hand beneath Leonard's jacket. His fingers were burning hot, and Leonard shivered from head to toe, his heartbeat quickening from that single touch.
"This is a b—"
"Can you just shut up?" Barry asked, so close that Leonard could feel the whisper of Barry's breath against his mouth. "Please, just—"
Everything seemed to tilt sideways when Barry kissed him, and Leonard flung his hands out in an effort to avoid falling, finding purchase on Barry's arms and clinging tight. By some miracle he was still on his feet, even as every sense was assaulted—the wall rough against his back, Barry's mouth sweet from fruit punch and hot against his, Barry's cologne making him dizzy. The rasp of their clothes as they moved. He'd had sex less consuming than this kiss.
Leonard snaked his arm around Barry's waist and dragged him in hard so he could feel Barry chest to thigh, greedy for every sensation because there was no way in hell that he was ever getting this moment again, and he was nothing if not an opportunist. Barry's arms twining around his neck, the soft, open warmth of his mouth, the tease of Barry's tongue—it was too much, it wasn't enough, he was going to burn into a pile of ash before Vanessa Mandretti finished whatever magic she was scheming because Barry was biting his mouth like it was a punishment and they were both panting like this kiss was the last gulp of air either of them would ever get.
There was a sound that barely registered in the back of Leonard's brain and he ignored it; there was no way it could be more important than Barry in his arms. Barry turned his face away, and Leonard would've complained about it, but he could taste Barry's skin on his tongue, his teeth skidding along the line of Barry's jaw. The rabbit-fast throb of Barry's pulse fluttered in his throat, and Leonard bit down hard, grinning when Barry shuddered and struggled to keep upright.
That same sound, a throat clearing loudly, and Leonard stilled, snapping abruptly out of the fog of hunger.
Right.
Barry's terrible idea that he fell for, hook line and sinker.
He swallowed and raised his head. Barry was staring at him with hazy, unfocused eyes, which—
Leonard had to keep it together before they screwed everything up. He guided Barry's left arm away from his neck and grinned at the security guard, who looked entirely unimpressed, his arms crossed over his chest. "We're engaged," Leonard informed him happily, and he nipped Barry's fingertips. Barry breathed a soft, yearning sound that Leonard thought he didn't mean to make, and then shook his head, taking a step away.
"Oh, I… I'm sorry,"Barry stammered, his attention swinging away from Leonard. "That was private, I shouldn't have kissed him in someone else's home."
"I'm not paid to care about who you kiss. You're not the first I've found, and you won't be the last," the guard said dryly, and Barry smiled, embarrassment and relief written all over his face.
"We should get back," Leonard said. "We should say our goodbyes before we head home."
The guard stepped out of the room and waited until they followed. "Have a good night."
"You too," Barry said kindly, and he squeezed Leonard's hand hard, walking just a step behind him.
Once they were out of earshot of the guard, Leonard murmured, "No matter what happens, you stay behind me, got it?"
Barry swallowed a nervous laugh. "And you say you're not a hero?"
"There's still time for me to leave you here," Leonard warned.
"Yeah, I got it," Barry said nonchalantly, the threat obviously falling on deaf ears, and Leonard scowled, trying and failing to pull his hand away. Then he stopped in his tracks, using his grip on Leonard to pull him up short. "Wait. Do you smell that?"
Leonard sniffed the air and caught the musky notes of patchouli. It catapulted him immediately into a memory of his early twenties, when he'd hidden from the cops in a head shop. It really made it hard to take Vanessa seriously. "Yeah," he said. "I smell it."
They stepped into the entertainment room together—Vanessa was standing in the center of the room, their fellow guests floating, eyes closed, a pale aura glowing around their bodies.
Vanessa turned to face them. "There you are!" She was leaking ichor from her eyes and ears, staining the bodice of her dress eerie shades of gray and black; her hand was clutched tight around the jewel in her necklace. "Perfect timing."
"Dude," Barry said, his mouth falling open.
"What the fuck?" Leonard asked as he watched what he assumed was some freaky cosmic horror kind of magic crawl through Vanessa's hand, leaving the veins black beneath her skin. "You know what? I don't even care. I'm too old for this shit." He shoved Barry back toward the door and stalked toward Vanessa, watching as she raised her hand, in the process of what was undoubtedly going to be very scary magic that Leonard didn't want to see.
Screw it, he thought. If I'm out, I'm out.
Then he reared back, cocked his fist, and punched Vanessa straight in the nose.
She cried out, her hands instinctively moving to cradle her face, and Leonard grabbed the necklace, breaking the clasp as he tore it from her throat. It seared Leonard's palm, blistering his flesh instantly, but he gritted his teeth, looking around wildly to find a good window. Every pane of glass he could see looked heavy and thick, so instead he chose to spin around to face the hallway. He threw the necklace with all his might and watched as it bounced twice in the wooden corridor and slid until it hit the far wall.
Immediately, their earpieces were alive with crosstalk, the crackle of static loud after such a long silence, and the air was alive with static electricity as Barry sped in, lowering the other guests gently to the floor and going to Vanessa to check on her nose, because he was a Boy Scout and worried about that kind of thing.
"Tell me we got it," he said into the receiver as he did another look through the room. He didn't see any staff, and he wondered when they'd bolted.
"Never thought I'd be so happy to hear you," Ava said, her smile evident in her voice.
"I got it ages ago," Mick complained. "If you got any good booze at your little party, get me some."
"There wasn't any," Leonard answered, and even though he was sure Barry had done his best to keep the other guests safe, he double-checked them, just in case. Leonard didn't particularly care if something happened to these people, but Barry had a bleeding heart and would blame himself if they missed something.
"She didn't know what she was doing, but I've got to admit I'm impressed by her shielding," Constantine said. "A hell of a tough nut to crack from the outside."
"You're welcome," Leonard said snidely. "Get in here and make sure none of these people die, or you'll be the one dealing with Barry crying."
"I'm not crying!" Barry protested. Leonard ignored him, just like he was ignoring Vanessa.
"You two get back to the Waverider," Sara said. "Good job tonight."
"Let's get out of here." Leonard turned toward Barry and hesitated—Barry still had an armful of crying, magic-stained magician. "Or you can keep dealing with that."
"Leonard, if you leave me here, I swear to God—"
Leonard looked up as if he could find patience from the ceiling, and walked over, crouching in front of Vanessa and Barry. "Hey. Quit it and tell us what you were you trying to do."
Vanessa choked on mucus and tears, her entire face twisted with hate. She spat something thick, a mess of blood and sinus fluid on the floor. "The only one I've ever loved is gone. You think I wouldn't find any way to bring him back?"
"Most people go to therapy."
"Leonard." Barry said sternly.
"Most people have never lost what I lost." Vanessa looked past Leonard, her face crumpling. "I'm not ready. I needed more time. It wasn't enough."
Leonard stared at Vanessa without blinking. "You think they had enough time?" He jerked his head toward the six other people she had invited in that night. "What makes your pain more important than theirs?"
"Hey," Barry said softly.
Leonard shook his head and rose to his feet. "You can baby her if you want to, Barry, but I can tell you she's not worth it."
Astra strode through the door and took one look around, her eyes lighting on every magical remnant of the failed ritual with the air of someone used to cleaning up after messy children.
Leonard sighed. "And now that the professionals are here, I'm calling it for tonight. I hope I don't see you again, Ms. Mandretti."
She stared up at him with void-black eyes. "You ruined everything."
"I do my best." He stole another look at Barry and knew he'd stay until everything was cleaned up. Leonard wasn't that kind. " I'm out," he told Astra. "It's been a long night."
"Go have a beer with Mick," she said, interlocking her fingers and stretching them out. "I think you've earned it."
~*~
Leonard's evening wound down. An infirmary visit with Gideon to clear up his nasty burn, a celebratory drink with Mick, a reunion with the cold gun—which he was never leaving behind again. Maybe he'd work with Gideon on making it smaller and easier to hide—and confirmation from the magic users that not only had they successfully retrieved the tiara, but they'd managed to save Vanessa and all her victims as well. All they had to do was drop Barry off in Central City and their work would be complete. For now.
A clean, simple mission with no drama.
That, of course, was wishful thinking. He had two, maybe three hours of peace, and then there was a knock on his bedroom door, which he'd expected and dreaded in equal measure.
He didn't respond.
He heard a muffled voice, and the door slid open.
"Thanks, Gideon." Barry stepped awkwardly into the room and shrugged at Leonard, even though he didn't look too sorry about it.
"You're welcome, Mr. Allen," Gideon said. She was a traitor and Leonard wasn't ever going to talk nice to her again.
Leonard didn't have any particular inclination for small talk, so he sat up on his bed and swung his legs to the floor. Once he was solidly on the ground, he looked at Barry, willing to wait him out. Barry had changed into more comfortable clothes, just like Leonard had, leaving the suit behind with the rest of the night.
It was a pity Barry seemed serious about the talking. Leonard wasn't going to break the ice first, so he just watched and waited instead. Barry fidgeted, shuffling from foot to foot as they looked at each other, and eventually Barry sighed, loud and long.
"Don't you want to know why she chose us for her ritual?"
"Nope." Barry opened his mouth to say something, so Leonard continued, "It was the luck of the draw. Bad luck for her, good luck for the Legends. I wouldn't put much stock in the nonsense our magicians say."
Barry scoffed under his breath. "Oh, you drive me crazy." He took a step forward and pinned Leonard with a glare. "We're going to talk about what happened. I'm not going to let you sweep it under the rug this time."
When Barry dropped his arms, Leonard instinctively followed the motion, watching the swing and arc of Barry's hands. "You're still wearing the ring."
Barry looked at his hand as if he'd forgotten it was even there. "I guess I am." He twisted the band for a second, and then pulled it off. "I don't care about this. You were right, this isn't real." He tossed the ring—it clattered and pinged as it hit the floor and rolled to a rest at Leonard's boot.
Leonard looked from the ring back to Barry. "If that's not what you wanted to talk about, then what is it?"
"I want you to come back home," Barry said, his jaw tense with determination, watching Leonard as if he would vanish if Barry blinked.
Leonard laughed. "You want Captain Cold in Central City? The current rogues gallery isn't keeping you on your toes?"
Barry shrugged. "They're fine. We team up sometimes when we need to."
Because of course they did. What villains didn't work with Barry at this point? The Joker?
All at once, Leonard was very, very tired.
Fine.
Just this once, he'd give Barry what he actually wanted.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Leonard averted his eyes, staring at a spot on the floor. "I'm sorry I took advantage of you. I just wanted to have fun—and it was—until it wasn't."
Barry was silent. For a very long time. Leonard had faced time-traveling freaks, nuclear explosions, and giant Beebo dolls, but he wasn't brave enough to look up at Barry's face.
"That…" Barry finally said. "That is the worst apology I've ever gotten."
Leonard stood up and glared at Barry, annoyance overriding the fear; Barry's mouth twitched at the corners like he was trying to hide a smile. "You know, it's actually kind of a relief you're as bad at this as I am." He ventured a little closer, stopping when Leonard tensed. "I was taking more advantage of the situation than you were. Come on."
Was it better to let Barry's misconceptions stay in place, or should Leonard make a clean cut and point out exactly how he'd manipulated the situation? "If the apology wasn't what you wanted, why are you here?"
"I'm here because I kissed you, and you kissed me back." Barry blushed, like just remembering it brought all the embarrassment back to the forefront.
"You kissed me because you've watched too many bad spy movies," Leonard sneered. "Nothing to clutch your pearls over."
"I'm not—I didn't mean—" Barry made an exasperated sound. "You're wired to take everything in the worst way possible. Okay. Look. Can we both agree that we're not being coerced or watched by an enemy that could kill us, and that there's literally no reason for me to lie right now?"
Leonard nodded sharply and forced himself to relax. He worked his neck from left to right, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, fine."
"Great." Barry blurred and then his hands were on Leonard's face, his chin cradled in Barry's palm, and they were kissing again. Tiny arcs of electricity stung Leonard's mouth; this, this was what had been missing the first time—the static that made the hair on his arms stand up, the air crackling around them like lightning was about to strike. Power wrapped in human form, all focused on him. Barry was shaking like a leaf, like he was strung out on too much coffee and not enough sleep, and Leonard's hands were in his hair, on his back, grabbing a fistful of Barry's t-shirt.
"What the hell," Leonard gasped, turning his face in a desperate attempt to regain some sort of control. It was a terrible idea, the worst, because Barry didn't stop, biting Leonard's cheek and jaw, sucking so hard on his pulse that Leonard knew he'd have a lurid bruise there the next day. "Barry—"
"I love you," Barry confessed, lips pressed to Leonard's ear, his voice shredded as if he'd swallowed glass. "Come home to Central City. Move in with me. Marry me. I don't care what you do as long as you stay."
Leonard staggered back, the back of his knees hitting his mattress, and Barry followed him, knees sinking into the blankets as he straddled Leonard's lap. "It was a con," Leonard said desperately, hating that he let this get so far, that he craved Barry's body under his hands, that he—
Barry laughed, low and rough. "God, I know. For both of us." He licked at the seam of Leonard's lips, making a sound like he'd been punched when Leonard chased after the contact and sealed their mouths together again. "I screwed up, I thought I'd screwed everything up, and then there you were, handsome and untouchable, and you made things good, you made it funny, and it was so easy to play pretend, wasn't it?"
Leonard squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, unable to trust his voice.
"And tonight, you and your damned distraction, you asshole." Barry pressed his forehead to Leonard's and panted. Leonard was lightheaded, the room spinning around him as they shared air, and he couldn't find the words, couldn't push Barry away. "I didn't kiss you because I've seen too many spy movies, you idiot. I'm a CSI, I know what looks suspicious, I just—needed to know. And the way you kissed me? How could you kiss me like that if you didn't want me?"
Leonard opened his eyes, staring up at Barry, and even in the crappy Waverider lighting he was beautiful, his green eyes shadowed, his mouth red and wet, a flush staining his cheeks and throat.
"I—"
Barry lowered his head and bullied his way into Leonard's mouth again, his tongue hot and demanding as he licked at the inside of Leonard's bottom lip. "Shhh." Barry grabbed Leonard's face again. "Just listen. You can talk after."
Leonard made some sort of sound, wondering distantly if he'd even remember what words were by the time Barry was done, and Barry apparently took that as agreement, dropping a chaste peck to Leonard's mouth as a reward.
"Here's the thing, Lenny. Are you listening to me? Vanessa didn't choose a single person by accident for her party tonight. I know you don't care about magic, but she was drawn to us because she needed us, because she needed what we had. It wasn't bad luck." Barry looked at Leonard and softened all at once, relaxing his grip and touching the teeth marks he'd left in Leonard's cheek. "It was because we're real. I love you, but you love me too." He swallowed. "Now you can talk."
Leonard licked his dry lips, unsure and off balance. He felt flayed open. Raw. He could pull away, deny everything. Barry was a hopeless romantic, seeing patterns that weren't there. The biggest problem was that Leonard was pretty sure he would die if he had to let Barry go. And he really, really wasn't eager to do that. He dropped his hands to Barry's thighs and squeezed. "You and me… you know we're not gonna last."
"And the alternative? I go home and you stay here and I don't see you again for another five years?" Barry shook his head. "That sounds like hell."
"You want me to ditch my friends and… what, exactly? Retire?"
Barry offered a smile, like the expression alone was an answer. "We have time to figure it out. Maybe you can consult for them. Maybe you can join me out in the field sometimes. You're always facing weird stuff with these guys. In Central, the worst you have to deal with are speedsters with God complexes and telepathic gorillas."
"You're serious." That realization should've had more weight, but at this point it was another drop in the bucket. What was one more life-altering revelation in the grand scheme of things?
Barry nodded slowly, his lower lip wobbling a little in a way that Leonard did not in any way find the slightest bit captivating. "I want a chance. I want to argue with you about movies and share my favorite restaurants with you. I… I want to go to Target and hear you complain about the quality of their jewelry. I want late night Chinese food and I want you at my back, freezing out the newest wannabe rogue of our city. I'm being selfish. Whatever time I have left, I want you to share it with me."
Leonard lowered his face, pressing his forehead against Barry's collarbone, and Barry kissed his temple, stroking his hair. It was strange—all those words, all the truths that Barry had wielded against him like a weapon, and it was the gentleness, the intimacy, that pierced through him.
Damn it all, he wanted it too.
"Okay, Barry," Leonard agreed. "Let's go home."
~*~