Chapter Text
This was just his luck, but, with Barry Allen, this was as lucky as he could get. It had only been about three days since the spar with Leonard Snart, and he had managed to get kidnapped by the same man. Now, he was sleeping next to him, the incoming winter breeze floating into the unoccupied barn, layers of hay mere inches away from the freezing floor. He nestled his reddened nose in the helm of his scarf, only making it colder as the yearn for warmth was wailing even louder. So, he relied on his speedster heating to provide it, curling into a ball and letting out a quiet sigh.
He wondered if Joe was searching for him right now, probably concerned as all heck about this. Or maybe he wasn't concerned? For all his foster dad knew, he could just be in his apartment, sleeping in his bed and having the blessing of being away from this criminal. However, just watching the male who was definitely buzzed brought an uncommon smile and an odd flush to his cheeks. If he had to admit, and he won't, this certain drunk was pretty cute.
The chirping of crickets grew louder, his eyes growing heavy with sleep and heart pounding in a lulling rhythm. Would there be anytime in his life where it wouldn't get as weird as this? He guessed that it couldn't, since getting struck by lightning and having super-speed was definitely out of the ordinary. Adding being somewhat of a superhero and knowing who the Arrow was, it was pretty awesome. These thoughts were slowly drowned out though, sleep slipping over him and putting him to slumber.
Next thing he knew there was bright sunlight beaming from the outside of the farm, the chirping of crickets now replaced with the chirping of birds. His eyes cracked open, groaning a bit from the bright morning light and rubbing his eyes with groggy movements. He heard the crunching of autumn leaves, sitting up only to find the criminal nursing his head against the open barn door. Barry stifled a yawn, wrapping his scarf firmly around his neck and standing on his feet. His eyes caught Barry's moving figure, realizing that he had woken up and waving halfheartedly to the speedster with a shut of the barn door with a quiet click.
"Good morning," Barry spoke, brushing off some of the hay from his lap.
"G'morning."
There wasn't the regular drawl in his voice, just the taint of annoyance from last nights activities. He felt the silence roll through the barn, zipping his jacket up in the midst of it. The feeling of being watched contributed from the action, Barry hoping that he wasn't doing anything that was catching the others attention. That, of course, was far from what he intended.
"So, am I free to go?" He was hesitant to ask, his piercing gaze breaking his concentration ever so slightly.
With a lick of his lips he adjusted himself against the said barn door, a small furrow of his brow almost intriguing to what he was possibly thinking about. However, to Barry's curiously demise, the motion stopped as fast as it came, an ever so cheerful smirk now placed against closed lips.
"How about I call you when I need a favor?" He hummed, his heart pounding at the thought of the other just merely having his number in his possession.
"If there's no other way to go about this, then it's a deal?"
"Great." Snart gracefully pushed himself from the door.
The criminal pulled up the sleeve of his heavy coat, a watch shown on his wrist as he seemed to check the time. The roaring of an engine came after the motion, his eyes snapping towards the barn door. The smirk was back on his lips again, and Barry now didn't know what was worse -- his snark or his smirk.
"Looks like my ride is here.. It was nice to meet you Barry. Don't count on me for a ride home, we're not that buddy-buddy."
There was no indication of a goodbye, or an exchange of numbers, just a simple devious smile with the agonizing sound of the cold gun and the closing of the door. And just like that, Leonard Snart was out of his sight once again. Barry expected to be more relaxed after the other had gone, but his chest continued to be tight and uncomfortable, the unwilling thought that the cold criminal might call his phone whenever he needed dirty work done.
Honestly, he just hoped that he wouldn't call him at all.
That dream, as much as he wished it was real, didn't come true at all. During the middle of a work day (which was luckily cut short due to his injuries from 'other activities'), his phone had rung on his walk down to S.T.A.R Labs. Barry despised walking, but sometimes he needed to experience the slow things in life. For a few minutes at least. He scooped up his phone from his pocket, furrowing his brows at the unknown number before hesitantly answering. His heart rate sped up by the other voice on the phone.
"Barry, glad you answered."
God, he had hoped that it wasn't him.
"Leonard? It's been two months and you decide to call me now?" He let a taint of bitterness slip into his words, pausing at a street lamp to collect his thoughts.
There was a pause, silence crackling through the phone as a frustrated sigh slipped into the microphone, muddled shouting in the background. Barry could have swore it was a woman's, something about being a wuss? Another moment of silence passed before the crackling quietness stopped, Snart's voice slipping out of the speakers.
"I need you to meet me at this place. We'll discuss things there, I'll text you the directions."
Once again, Barry didn't have any say in what the ever lasting hell the other was talking about, the line going dead as the notification of a text message rang. This guy is pretty unpredictable, huh? He should've just left when he had the chance to, it wasn't like he was going to figure out that a forensic scientist named Barry Allen was The Streak.
Barry copy and pasted the directions onto the search bar, the text leading to a run down coffee place, catching his interest. Why would the egotistic criminal want to meet there? Well, he really didn't need to go, but the curiosity of it all scratched the inside of his mind, and before he knew it, he was across the street from the building.
From where he stood he could clearly see the lack of people inside the coffee shop, each of them minding their own business and not stepping into any of their small areas they made for themselves. Leonard, was seated near the piano, which was pushed off into the farthest right hand corner of the shop. A perfect place to pick to ask a favor to a certain Barry Allen if he had to say so himself.
Still, something was odd about meeting here, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"I'll think of it later, just need to get this over with," He muttered to himself, crossing the street and pushing the creaky door open. A pair of piercing eyes met his, and he spared himself the stare by glancing down and making his way to the back of the room. There were two cups placed out already, one empty and the other half-full, which Barry decided was the other's coffee. A brief moment passed as the speedster took a seat, Leonard's undying attention finally breaking as he glanced down to his cup, taking a hearty sip from the drink.
"So?"
He rose an eyebrow. "So what?"
"Weren't you going to ask me why here? I know worse places than this but I might as well make a good impression." Leonard drawled, leaning against his chair with an amused posture.
Barry simply shrugged, not letting himself get too comfortable in the presence of the other male. Anything as simple as this was bound to go sideways, right? Still, he had to remember why he called him so long after they even met.
"That isn't why you called me here, to enjoy the scenery, right?"
His voice was dripping with sarcasm, and honestly, he felt like he had the right to express his feelings in front of Snart.
"Straight to the point? Very straight-forward of you, Barry." He hummed, a careful smirk apparent on his lips.
He could feel a chunk of ice slide down his throat, almost like he was swallowing the cold gun itself. Whatever the other wanted him to do was definitely something that was possibly dangerous and unsettling, but he didn't have a choice. He was just a forensic scientist after all, and he couldn't reveal himself as The Streak quite yet.
"Well if you're really wondering," Leonard leaned forward, eyes narrowing for emphasis. "I have a heist coming up, been planning it for a few weeks now."
For some reason, he had an awful feeling that he was going to be included in this.
"The item I'm going to nag though is going to be present during a ballroom atmosphere. Of course, I've managed to grab tickets for it, but you see, I need someone unsuspecting to come with. Mick, my partner, is too noticeable, you though.."
With a tilt of his head he trailed off, leaving the rest for Barry to figure out. A ballroom? And he was supposed to go with him? God, please don't tell him that he has to go off and steal the item himself? His endless array of questions were cut short though, when a ticket was slid towards him, courtesy of the cold criminal in front of him. He could see the male's lips curved upwards, somewhat amused by how he was taking this favor.
"When's the," Swallowing, he continued. "When is it?"
Barry picked up the ticket, his name clearly printed on without a single mistake. He flipped it around in his hand a few times, the other clearly waiting till the realization sunk in completely to continue the details. He, however, didn't want to know anymore, just wanting to get this favor over with before more things go into play.
His gaze wandered to the ticket before he flicked them back up to Barry, tongue darting out to lick his lips. "It's on Friday, which means you have three days to decide what to wear, Barry."
There it was, the drawl that was slowly making itself annoying in his head. Soon he'll have to listen to countless hours of lady gaga to try and remove that tone of speech from his head. At least there was a few days before he had to go and commit that kind of act, maybe it was different than anything else he'd done? He just hoped that he didn't have to hurt anyone, and that nothing was going to happen that night.
So, with a quick nod of his head, he redundantly agreed to go with the criminal, his piercing blues almost growing a lighter shade than before. He refused to run a hand through his face, letting a soft sigh escape from his lips as a few people got up to leave, their drinks empty and tips left on the table.
"Here's my number. Call me if you actually need anything. Don't waste my time."
Leonard stood up, pushing his chair in and giving a quick nod to the speedster. He muttered something about renting a suit before strolling out the door, the waitress handing the bill over to Barry before shuffling back behind the counter. Now, he actually let himself run a hand through his hair and face, paying for the coffee Snart had bought and walking out of the shop he didn't doubt that he would see again.
He gave himself a reminder, walking towards the nearest alleyway before speeding off to S.T.A.R. Labs in the biggest bee-line he could manage.
The reminder was, of course, to keep out of trouble.
But also to not let himself, in any way, get attached to this man.