Archive of Our Own

Of all the coffee shops in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine…

Cisco knew that he was being a little dramatic. But considering the circumstances, could anyone blame him? He and Barry were supposed to be having a normal hangout at CC Jitters. No powers or superhero work, just coffee and snacks and light conversation.

And then Leonard Snart strolled in like he owned the damn place. Like he wasn’t a world-class thief who had stolen a deadly weapon from Cisco less than a week prior. Like he hadn’t used said deadly weapon to rob the Central City Museum, derail a train, kill a security guard, and almost kill a bunch of other people, to boot.

One of those other people, by-the-way, was Barry Allen. But, of course, Barry was completely oblivious. He’d glanced up when Snart passed by (a natural reaction to catching movement out of the corner of his eye), but then he’d turned back to Cisco and continued telling him all about Iris’s blog.

It fell on Cisco, then, to surreptitiously keep an eye on Snart and make sure he wasn’t about to do something terrible. But, to the man’s credit, he seemed to be acting fairly normal. He walked up to the register, ordered something, smiled flirtatiously at the girl behind the counter, and waited for his drink to be made. When it was ready (“Iced black coffee for Leonard?”), he took it and one of the complimentary newspapers off of the counter, found a seat at a small table, and started to read while sipping his drink.

Not exactly “supervillain” behavior, unless he was planning to steal the newspaper or throw his chair through a window or pour the coffee down someone’s shirt. Until he did, though, Cisco decided to pretend that Snart wasn’t there.

Cisco could definitely do that. He could definitely act normal. Cisco turned back to Barry and focused on listening to him talk, interjecting every so often to keep the conversation going.

About five minutes later, Barry stopped, and Cisco figured that he’d run out of things to say. However, after a few seconds of silence, he realized that Barry was looking over Cisco’s shoulder—like he was watching something (or somebody) on the other side of the restaurant. “Hey, Cisco?” he said finally.

“Yeah?”

Barry gave him a small smile. “Okay, don’t look now, but…I’m pretty sure that that short-haired guy is checking you out.”

Short-haired guy? Cisco took a moment to process this information…and then he fought the urge to groan. He glanced over to where Snart had sat down, and sure enough, their eyes met for a few tense seconds. When Snart’s mouth and eyes formed a smirk, Cisco dropped his gaze back to the Formica table. “Yeah, I see him.”

Barry grinned. “You should go talk to him.”

“NO!” Cisco yelped, and it came out much more loudly than he’d intended. When he saw Barry’s startled expression, he forced himself to dial it back. “I mean, no. I’ll pass.”

“Why not?” Barry asked. He looked over at Snart and then back at Cisco. “He’s your type, isn’t he?”

Cisco winced. He never should have admitted to Barry that he had a thing for older men. But they’d been binge-watching Marvel Cinematic Universe movies, and Barry had noticed the way Cisco’s eyes lit up every time Robert Downey Jr. swaggered across the screen, and he’d said something about it. At the time, Cisco had been relieved that Barry wasn’t freaked out over the whole “likes girls and guys” thing. Now, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I just…I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Hey, man, If you’re worried about ‘ditching’ me when we’re supposed to be hanging out, it’s okay,” Barry said. “I don’t mind. And…I’m pretty sure that you’ve been watching him since he first walked in, too. So, why not go for it?”

“Barry, just drop it, okay? Please?” Cisco said. He was very deliberately not looking in Snart’s direction.

Barry frowned—not in anger, but in concern. “Is something wrong? You know you can tell me anything, Cisco.”

No, there were definitely some things that he couldn’t tell Barry. Chief among them: the fact that everything that had happened with “Captain Cold” had been purely, entirely, 100% Cisco’s fault. He’d built a gun capable of stopping a speedster in their tracks. He’d chosen to keep it a secret, even from Dr. Wells. And when Leonard Snart broke into S.T.A.R. Labs one night while Cisco was there by himself… he’d inadvertently led Snart right to the gun.

“So, Pretty Baby—what’s in here that you didn’t want me to find?” Snart had asked. The man had apparently seen Cisco running to the storage room to check that the gun was still secure and followed him without making a sound.

Worse still, after Snart left, Cisco didn’t call the rest of the team. He’d just covered the whole thing up. It wasn’t difficult; Snart had barely left any evidence of his crimes, so all Cisco had needed to do was clean up a few messes and loop some security camera footage to make it look like a masked man had snuck in, snapped some photos of classified S.T.A.R. Labs info, and then left before Cisco had even noticed that something was amiss.

The next morning, Caitlin, Barry, and Dr. Wells had expressed relief that Cisco was safe; imagine being in the same building as a criminal (well, besides the ones that they currently had locked in the pipeline) and not even knowing it! Cisco feigned relief, too, and then made up a lie about feeling sick and gone home. He’d spent the rest of the day hacking into the CCPD database and examining mugshots, trying to put a name to the face of the man who’d totally outsmarted him and had the nerve to look incredibly hot while doing so.

Not that that mattered at all. What difference did it make that Snart had unbelievable eyes and amazing bone structure and was probably tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Cisco’s head? Cisco only knew these details because Snart had taken his mask off after Cisco unsuccessfully tried to pepper spray him.  The man was evil. Pure evil.

Once Snart started running amok with the cold gun, Cisco had hoped that Snart would slip up and reveal his face to Barry the way he had to Cisco. But he’d been careful not to let “The Streak” see him without his goggles and that stupid parka. So now Cisco was the only person at S.T.A.R. Labs who knew Captain Cold’s true identity, and he had no way of explaining how he knew.

He had a hard time not telling everyone in his social circle that he was friends with an actual superhero. This secret, though? Considerably less cool.

Deep down, Cisco understood that the longer he kept up the deception, the worse it would be when the truth finally came out—and it would come out eventually; this was the kind of lie that couldn’t last forever. But he still wasn’t ready to own up to it. Not when his life was still in turmoil following the particle accelerator explosion and the “official” closure of S.T.A.R. Labs. He couldn’t risk losing what remained of his chosen family over a momentary lapse in judgement. He just couldn’t.

“I’m just…I’m not feeling it today,” Cisco said. “Yeah, that guy’s hot, and he’s my type, but…I just don’t feel like going after him. Some days, you want to approach people, and some days, you just want to be approached. You know?”

Barry exhaled, then took a sip of his drink. “I guess,” he admitted. “Seems like kind of waste, though.”

“Said the guy who’s been crushing on the same girl for 15 years and hasn’t made a move on her yet,” Cisco quipped flatly. Anything to get Barry’s attention off of Snart.

“Hey, c’mon,” Barry said, clearly embarrassed. “You know that that’s a really, really complicated situation.”

“No, I don’t know. Well, okay, there was that one weird story arc on Degrassi where Clare was dating her stepbrother, and that didn’t turn out too well. But I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone in real life who had that problem.”

“Wait, who’s Clare? I stopped watching Degrassi in 2006; Joe changed our cable subscription and we didn’t get that channel anymore. And then they killed off J.T., and I was like, ‘Dammit, this show isn’t even worth pirating anymore.’”

“What?! Okay, we’ve gotta get you back into it. Season 10 was a bit of a soft reboot, so you can start there.”

“Should I be concerned that you’re in your 20s and you’re watching a soap opera for teenagers?”

“Okay, just for that , I’m not gonna bother recapping seasons six through nine for you. You can go on Wikipedia and read plot summaries yourself, jerk.”

And just like that, they had slipped back into easy conversation, laughing and teasing each other. By the time Barry got up to use the restroom, Cisco was confident that Barry had forgotten all about the mystery guy who’d seemed so interested in Cisco. And more importantly, Barry seemed to have no idea that Cisco knew more about their chilly enemy than he was letting on.

For that, Cisco was relieved. As long as nothing crazy happened with Snart, he was probably going to have a—relatively—normal afternoon.

***

Barry Allen had never really considered himself much of a “wingman.” His attempts to build up his friends in the eyes of others were often far more awkward that encouraging, and he was usually too shy to approach strangers, anyway. He never had a problem leaving someone alone with their quarry, but giving them wide berth while they sealed the deal on their own really was the most help he could normally give.

Today, though, he was determined to make something happen.

Cisco was a nice guy, and plenty attractive. Barry knew that Cisco had been single for a while and was definitely looking, but being part of a top-secret, crime-fighting / city-protecting team had seemingly put a moratorium on the guy’s dating life. It was obvious that Cisco truly loved the work they did, but at the same time, it seemed extremely unfair for Barry to ask so much of him and not give him any help in return.

So, when Barry realized that a good-looking stranger who was Cisco’s type seemed to be eyeing him from across the café, and Cisco was apparently too flustered (or just lacked the confidence) to do anything about it, Barry decided that he would take the first step for him. Because that’s what heroes—and, more importantly, good friends—do.

When he got out of the restroom, he did a quick run-through of Jitters. He was careful to not to generate lightning, because the idea was to be invisible. As a CSI, so he knew the importance of doing recon before taking action.

Going so fast that everyone else seemed to be standing still revealed a few truths. The first was that Mystery Guy was definitely watching Cisco; his head—and eyes—were pointed exactly in the right direction, and there wasn’t anyone else behind Cisco that he could be checking out, instead. The second was that Mystery Guy was super handsome, with steely blue irises, well-defined cheekbones, and full lips. Barry wasn’t sure of the man’s age; he looked like he could be in his late 30s, but the amount of gray in his hair suggested that he was probably a little older than that. And the third, which Barry noticed when he glanced down at the man’s well-groomed hands, was that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

It wasn’t a guarantee that he was single, but it wasn’t a bad sign, either.

There was something very familiar about Mystery Guy, like Barry had met him before. When he racked his brain, however, he drew a complete blank. Maybe the man worked for the city, and he’d been in the CCPD main office before? Or maybe he was a model, and Barry had seen him in a magazine or on a billboard? He certainly had the looks for it.

Whatever; the question of whether or not he’d met the guy before was considerably less important than making sure that the guy met Cisco. Barry went back to the restroom door and slowed down to normal speed. He then casually walked over to where Mystery Guy was sitting. There was a display of Jitters merchandise about a foot away from the table, and Barry did his best to act like he was trying to make a selection instead of totally creeping on a stranger.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there—maybe a minute or two? Regardless, it was actually Mystery Guy who finally opened his mouth: “Can I help you?”

Barry jolted. He’d thought he was being subtle, but the guy had apparently noticed what he was doing. “Uh…maybe?”

Mystery Guy raised an eyebrow. Damn, now that those pretty eyes were focused on him, Barry thought that his gaze was a bit intense. No wonder Cisco had been too intimidated to approach him.

“I mean…I saw you checking out my friend over there.” Barry paused. “You were looking at him, right? The Puerto Rican guy with the long hair?”

The corner of Mystery Guy’s mouth turned upward ever-so-slightly. “Damn, I was that obvious?” He put down his newspaper. “You said he was your ‘friend.’ So, you two aren’t together?”

“‘Together?’ Oh, no, we’re definitely not. I mean, yeah, we came here together, but we’re just friends. He’s single. Well, we’re both single, actually, but that’s not—that’s not important.”

“If you say so,” Mystery Guy drawled.

Barry nodded. “Look, he’s a really nice guy, but he’s shy, so if you want to talk to him, you’d better just come over to our table.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your ‘just friends’ hangout.”

“Nah, don’t worry about that. I was just telling him that I didn’t mind,” Barry said, dismissing the man’s concerns with a wave of his hand. He paused for a moment, trying to think of a graceful way to exit, but then gave up. It wasn’t like he was trying to impress Mystery Guy. “Alright, I’m gonna go back to my table now. Ball’s in your court.”

“Okay.”

Barry shot him an encouraging look, then turned on his heel and walked back towards Cisco. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but he was pretty sure he’d done a good job of setting things in motion. Maybe he was a great wingman after all?

***

“What are you smiling about?” Cisco asked when Barry sat back down in his seat.

“What? I’m not smiling,” Barry said, even though he was.

“Dude, I’m standing right here. I can totally see that you’re smiling,” Cisco said. He wasn’t sure how Barry was going to handle the whole ‘secret identity’ thing if he didn’t learn to not broadcast all of his emotions in HD clarity.

“Well…I…I’m just in a good mood,” Barry said, sounding a little wistful. “It’s a nice day, I’m hanging out with a friend, and the barista made my drink just right. I’m feeling good, you know?”

“If you say so.” Cisco swallowed a mouthful of his coffee. “Hey, do want to go back to my apartment after we’re done here? It’s kind of a mess, but I can show you those old Dragon Ball Z action figures I was telling you about the other day.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe that I found those things after all these years.”

“Uh…sure?” Barry said. “Honestly, I think my DBZ toys might still be in a box in Joe’s attic. One of these days, I’ll go up there and—OH!” He interrupted himself in mid-sentence as he looked at something (or someone) behind Cisco’s back.

“What is it?” Cisco asked.

“He’s…he’s coming over here!” Barry said.

“What? Who?” Cisco replied blankly. He turned in the direction Barry was looking, and his guts dropped down to his feet when he saw Snart striding over to their table, his coffee cup in one hand and an arrogant smile on his face.

Cisco jerked his head back so quickly that he thought he heard his neck crack. He was about to tell Barry that they needed to go right now , but then he noticed that the silly grin was back on Barry’s face. If Barry was trying to act casual, he was failing miserably at it.

Cisco was horrified. “Barry, please tell me you didn’t!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” Barry said, still grinning. By this time, Snart had reached their table, so Barry directed his gaze toward him. “Can we help you?”

“Do you two mind if I sit down here?” Snart asked, his voice completely casual. “The other side of the restaurant is getting direct sunlight right now, and it’s blazing hot over there.”

Cisco was going to point out that there were plenty of other tables on this side of Jitters where he could sit, but Barry answered for him. “Oh, no, we don’t mind. Yeah, you gotta watch that mid-afternoon sun.” They were sitting at a round table, and Barry gestured to one of the chairs.

“Thanks.” He sat down, glancing at Cisco as he did so. Cisco felt his stomach tighten; they’d divided the table into pretty neat thirds, but Snart was still sitting way too close for comfort. He wondered if he could sidle closer to Barry without either man noticing.

“No problem.” Barry paused for a moment, and then he stuck out his hand to shake. “I’m Barry, by-the-way.”

“I’m—” Snart started, before Cisco cut in:

“Leonard Snart,” Cisco said, glaring at the man. He tried to muster as much disgust as he could into those three syllables.

Snart, for his part, just seemed flattered. “Hi, Cisco. Nice to see you again.”

Barry looked back and forth between the two of them. As he put his hand down, confusion flickering over his features. “Whoa, wait…do you two know each other already?”

Cisco kept his eyes on Snart. “We’ve…met. Once.”

“Really?” Barry said. “Where?”

Cisco opened his mouth and then closed it. He wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that question.

Fortunately, Snart answered it for him. “I was at work. I’m in…acquisitions.”

“Oh. Neat,” Barry said. He flashed Cisco a hopeful smile, then grabbed his phone and began to fiddle with it.

Cisco wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream. The sound that escaped his throat was a bizarre combination of both. He took a sip of his drink before Barry (or anyone else in Jitters) could express concern that he was experiencing a psychotic break.

“So, what do you two do for work?” Snart asked conversationally.

“I’m a CSI for the Central City Police Department,” Barry said. “And, before you ask: it’s not nearly as cool as they make it look on TV.”

Snart chuckled. “Is that so?”

Cisco felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out just long enough to see that Barry was texting him from two feet away. Oh, for God’s sake … Cisco grumbled internally. Were they ninth grade girls, or something?

“Yeah. I mean, it has its moments, but it’s mostly boring. Not like Cisco’s job.” Barry glanced over at Cisco, giving him an encouraging look.

Cisco stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself to talk to Snart without spilling the beans about their previous encounter.

Barry waited a few seconds. When Cisco continued to keep his mouth shut, Barry kicked him gently under the table. He probably thought that Cisco was frozen under Snart’s cold-as-ice gaze and needed to be snapped out of his stupor.

“I’m an engineer,” Cisco said shortly, forcing himself to look Snart in the eye.

“Oh,” Snart said, smirking. “That is interesting.”

“Yeah, and he’s being modest,” Barry said, fiddling with his phone again. “Cisco’s a mechanical engineer. He invents and builds really cool stuff.”

“Really?” Snart said. He leaned in a tiny bit closer to Cisco. “I would love to see an invention of yours sometime.”

Cisco’s phone buzzed with another text message from Barry. He was just about to stick his phone back into his pocket when suddenly, a thought occurred to him: maybe, just maybe, Barry had figured out that the mysterious man in their midst was a dangerous supervillain. Perhaps he was texting Cisco with a game plan as to how they’d apprehend him. He could even be suggesting that Cisco serve as a honeypot in order to lure Snart into a trap. Over the last few weeks, Barry and Cisco had become pretty close friends, so it was entirely possible that they were actually on the same page.

Doing his best to act casual, Cisco pulled out his phone, took a deep breath, and read the two messages that Barry had sent him:

Acquisitions. That means he’s got a good job, right? :)

He's into engineers! You've GOTTA ask him out! :D

Nope, never mind. He and Barry were not on the same page. They weren’t even in the same goddamn library. He felt his eye twitch and wondered if he was having a stroke. At the very least, that would get him out of this mess.

Cisco put his phone away and looked back up at Snart. “So, Leonard, you work in acquisitions. Have you acquired anything particularly interesting lately?”

Snart seemed to understand what Cisco was getting at, but he just smiled in response. “Sorry, I can’t really talk about stuff like that in public—it’s the nature of the business; you never know who might be listening in. But if you'd like to discuss the matter in private...”

Cisco’s phone buzzed a third time. He kicked Barry under the table, just in case it was him again. Any more comments to the effect of, “DUDE GO FOR IT HE WANTS THE D,” and he’d probably lose control and smack Barry in the head with his coffee mug.

Barry wasn’t done causing problems for him, though—or, rather, Barry’s phone wasn’t done causing problems for him: the device suddenly began to ring. Cisco had just enough time to see that that the number on the Caller ID started with 1-800, so it was almost certainly a solicitor. But Barry did not react accordingly, sweeping the phone up in his hand and regarding it with interest. “Oh, that’s work,” he lied, giving them both an apologetic smile that looked almost convincing. “I’ve gotta take this. I’ll be outside.”

No, no, don’t leave me alone with him! Cisco screamed inside his head. He hoped to God that Barry’s recently acquired meta-human powers included telepathy—or at least an enhanced ability to read a situation and not act like a complete dolt.

No dice; Barry simply winked at Cisco and then headed for the door. He threw his two companions one last encouraging look before walking out of Jitters and turning the corner, disappearing from view.

Snart watched him leave, then focused his gaze on Cisco. For a moment, both of them were completely silent. Finally, Snart said, “Well… that was a little awkward, wasn’t it?”

Cisco fixed him with the fiercest glare he could muster (which Caitlin had once told him was actually kind of adorable). “What’s your game, Snart?”

Snart raised an eyebrow. “My ‘game’? I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I was just minding my own business when your friend walked up and told me that I should come talk to you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “He seems nice, by-the-way.”

“He’s straight,” Cisco blurted out, and then he immediately wanted to punch himself in the throat, because why?! Why did he feel a need to say that?!

Snart’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh.”

“I mean…he’s straight-edge,” Cisco said flatly. “He’s a good guy. Not like you. You’re a criminal.”

“Yeah, and you build extremely dangerous weapons at S.T.A.R. Labs,” Snart drawled. “One of which seems to be ideal for stopping that ‘Streak’ guy. That’s why you made it, isn’t it?”

Cisco’s breath caught in his throat. “You…I didn’t…”

“Come on, kid. Give me some credit. Weirdo in a red suit who runs really fast shows up in the city, and you just happen to have a freeze ray handy?” He leaned forward, propping his head up with his hand. “I’m not a mechanical engineer , but even I know that if you want to slow something down, you’ve gotta cool it off.”

“It’s not a freeze ray,” Cisco grumbled. “It’s a cold gun.”

“Fine. Whatever you want to call it, you built it to take out The Streak. And since you didn’t call the cops after I left S.T.A.R. Labs that night, I’ve gotta assume you don’t want anyone to know about it.” Snart gestured towards the door. “Especially your straight-edge CSI buddy.”

“I should have,” Cisco said, bile rising in his throat. “At least then, Barry wouldn’t be trying to hook me up with a guy who pointed a Glock at me and made me tie myself to a chair. ” The last part of his sentence was hissed through gritted teeth.

Snart rolled his eyes. “Well, you tried to mace me, so I feel like that makes us even. And we both know that you actually enjoyed being tied up, so you can stop pretending to be offended by that part of our little conflict.” His pretty mouth curled into a smirk. “Not judging, by-the-way. A lot of people are into that.”

“Go to hell!” Cisco snapped.

“Fine. We won’t talk about the raging stiffy you got just from me ordering you around, restraining your arms and legs, and stroking your face. I’ll let the matter drop.”

Which was a good thing, because that had easily been the most humiliating moment of Cisco’s life. Some psycho forced him to take off his pants, shoes, and socks (to make sure he wasn’t hiding any weapons—supposedly), ordered him at gunpoint to zip-tie his wrists and ankles to a chair, and just as the guy was touching his cheek and telling him that he’d rather not shoot Cisco but he would if he had to…Cisco realized that he’d pitched a goddamn tent in his boxers.

It wasn’t his fault, okay? Just an involuntary response to fear and violence and having a beautiful, dangerous man say, “Take your pants off.” Who wouldn’t get a little hot under the collar from all of that? It didn’t mean that he liked Snart, or anything.

Of course, Snart had noticed Cisco’s… condition , and he’d had the nerve to chuckle. Chuckle! When the whole thing was his fault in the first place! And then he’d looked Cisco in the eye and said, “Want me to take care of that for you?”

Cisco didn’t remember exactly what he’d said in response. Something very angry and/or vulgar, he guessed. It may have involved a soldering iron and a certain part of Snart’s anatomy.

Whatever it was, Snart had recoiled, putting his palms up. “Yikes—I was just offering, kid. I thought it might help you calm down. Never mind, though.” Again, like Cisco was the one being unreasonable in that situation.

Asshole.

He forced himself to stop reliving his disgrace and rejoin the conversation at hand. “Thanks,” Cisco spat. “And, hey, speaking of drops…how about that security guard you killed with the cold gun? I wasn’t there, but I’ll bet he dropped pretty quickly.”

For the first time since he walked into Jitters, something akin to discomfort flickered across Snart’s face. “That was an accident.”

“You pointed the cold gun at him and pulled the trigger!” Cisco snapped. “Don’t try to tell me it was an accident!”

“It was. Killing security guards isn’t my style.” Snart huffed a breath. “That was my first time using the gun, and I didn’t realize how powerful it was. I thought that the worst thing that would happen is he’d get some nasty frostbite.” He leaned back in his chair. “It’s not like you included an instruction manual in the case.”

“Sorry—I wasn’t anticipating it being used by a career criminal with nefarious intentions,” Cisco retorted. He squeezed the handle of his mug. “And if you really feel bad about what happened, you can give the gun back to me and turn yourself over to the cops.”

Snart shook his head. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, Cisco. The guy’s dead, and there’s no changing that, so I might as well just keep doing what I’m doing. Maybe that sounds callous, but it’s the truth.” Snart drummed his fingers—long, slender, and probably very nimble—on the table. “And I’m not giving you the gun back. You’re welcome to try to take it from me by force, though.”

“We both know that I can’t do that.”

“Well, then, I guess we’re at an impasse.” He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, like he’d been struck with inspiration. “Do you like Japanese food?”

Cisco squinted at him. “What?”

“Japanese food. Like, sushi and yakitori and soba. Do you like that stuff?”

Cisco continued to squint. “Uh…yeah? I guess?”

“Great. I know a little place in north Central City. Family-owned, real hole-in-the-wall kind of joint. Whenever you’re free next, let’s have dinner, and afterwards, you can show me how to use the cold gun safely.”

“Are you…you can’t seriously be asking me out on a date right now. That is…I can’t believe…why would I ever—?”

Snart raised his eyebrows, his mouth settling into yet another smirk. “Well, I just suggested that we get dinner. You’re the one who used the word ‘date.’ But sure, if you want to go out on a date, that’s fine with me.”

“No! Nuh-uh! Absolutely not!” Cisco barked, balling his hands into fists. “I do not eat dinner with criminals, and I sure as hell don’t date them, either!”

“Well, okay,” Snart said, pursing his lips like he was disappointed. “I’ll just figure out how to use the gun myself. Hope I don’t accidentally kill anyone else. But if you’re that determined to never see me again…”

Cisco groaned. That was a low blow. The logical side of his brain was telling him that he should stay as far away from Snart as possible. But the emotional side realized that, because he’d built the gun, any damage Snart did with it was ultimately going to weigh on his conscience. He really didn’t have much of a choice, here.

“Fine,” Cisco said. “We can…we can have dinner. And I’ll show you how to use the gun in a non-lethal manner. But that’s it. It’s not a date, okay?” He gripped the handle of his mug. “Does Friday work for you? Or do you already have plans to rob a bank?”

“Nah, that’s not ‘til Saturday morning,” Snart replied. “Friday’s clear.” His eyes were gleaming.

“I’d ask if you were serious, but I kinda don’t want to know.”

“Probably best that you don’t. So, should I pick you up at S.T.A.R. Labs? Say, 6:30?”

“Oh, yeah, like I’m gonna get in a car with you,” Cisco snapped. “And no, don’t come to S.T.A.R. Labs. Don’t ever come to S.T.A.R. Labs again. Just tell me the name of the restaurant, and I’ll meet you there at 7.”

Snart snorted, shaking his head. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, here, Cisco. But fine, have it your way.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notepad and a pen. After scribbling on the pad, he tore off the top sheet and handed it to Cisco.

Cisco glanced down at the paper, wrinkling up his nose as he did so:

Juunin Tooiro on 5 th Street
Leonard Snart – (573) 555-4233

“You’re giving me your phone number? What, do you want me to call you , or something?” Cisco said, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as dry as his throat felt.

“That’s the idea. I give you my number, and then you call me so I have your number. Easy-peasy.” He stood up. “Well, I need to get going. Things to do and all that. And I’m sure poor Barry is just shaking with anticipation to hear how this—” he gestured vaguely to the two of them, “—turned out. He’ll be so happy to know that we’ve already got a date planned.”

“It’s not a date!” Cisco said.

“If you say so.” He took a few steps forward, but when he was standing next to Cisco, he stopped. “Oh, and Cisco?”

“What?”

Suddenly, he leaned in, and for a wild moment, Cisco thought that Snart was going to kiss him. But instead, he just brought his lips to Cisco’s ear and whispered:

“If you play your cards right…I might just tie you up again.”

Cisco’s eyes shot open. He felt his face flush, and when he opened his mouth, the only sounds that escaped were a few bizarre squeaks.

Snart laughed, apparently pleased by Cisco’s reaction. “See you later, Pretty Baby.” He threw Cisco one last smug glance and then walked away, leaving his empty mug on the table. By the time Cisco got ahold of himself, Snart was already gone.

About five seconds later, Barry came bounding back into Jitters like a happy dog. Odds were good that he’d been watching the door so that he could pounce the moment Snart left the building. “So?” he said when he got up to the table where Cisco was sitting.

“So, what?” Cisco grumbled, shoving the paper with Snart’s info into his pocket. He still felt just a little punch-drunk, but at least he could now form real words.

“So, what happened with Leonard?” Barry said. And Snart had been right; the guy was practically vibrating in his sneakers.

“Oh,” Cisco said. “Uh…we…we’re having dinner on Friday. And…he gave me his number so I could call him.”

“What?! That’s awesome!” Barry said, clapping Cisco on the back. “You walked in here with nothing, and now you’ve got a date!”

“It’s not a date!” Cisco snarled, before he remembered that he’d only already said that to Snart—Barry was hearing it for the first time.

Barry recoiled. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy; I…” his voice trailed off, and he swallowed. “Oh. Are you…are you mad that I got involved?”

“Yes!” Cisco snapped. “I told you to drop it!”

“You said you wanted him to approach you, instead of you approaching him. I thought…I’m sorry. I was just trying to help you.”

Cisco tried to stay angry at him. He really did. But, the longer he stared at Barry’s embarrassed expression, the harder it got. Barry Allen was one of the most genuinely nice people he’d ever known. There was no way in hell that Barry had done what he did out of malice or even puckishness—he’d honestly, truly thought that he was doing something nice for his friend. Barry’s love life was a mess, but that didn’t mean that Cisco’s had to be, as well.

And that was why Cisco couldn’t just tell him the truth. Because Barry, in all of his sweetness, probably wouldn’t understand why Cisco had built the cold gun and then kept it a secret. And Cisco would rather be a relentless liar than a friendless loser.

“No, no… I’m sorry,” Cisco said, finally. “I’m just being pissy.” He managed a weak smile. “Thanks for being my wingman.”

Barry’s face erupted into a grin again. “No problem! And hey, it’s alright if you’re just getting dinner as friends for now. Maybe, later on, it’ll turn into something more?”

Cisco tried not to wince. “Maybe? Who knows?”

He and Snart definitely weren’t friends. In fact, at the moment, Cisco still thought of him as a fiend. A rotten, manipulative, super-attractive fiend. One who radiated arrogance and big-dick energy.

What the hell is wrong with you?! Cisco yelled at himself internally. Why was he still thinking of Snart in those terms? Underestimating the man was going to get him robbed or maimed or—

“If you play your cards right…I might just tie you up again.”

…Goddammit…

“Cisco? Are you okay?” Barry asked.

“Huh?” Cisco managed to mumble. He wanted to shoot himself in the head with the cold gun. Which he totally could have done if Snart hadn’t stolen the damn thing in the first place.

“You look…I dunno, your face just looks weird.”

Cisco did his best to put on a neutral expression. “Does it? Well, it’s…it’s been a weird day.”

“Good weird or bad weird?” Barry asked.

Cisco exhaled. “Not sure. Ask me again on Saturday afternoon.”