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Barry had left Iris with Eddie, the one person more suited than him to comfort her.
Walking into the empty West house was a bit surreal. The tree was up, the fireplace decked with stockings and evergreens, bells and tinsel decorated the stairwell and room dividers, candles were lit in the windows and a wreath hung on the wall. The house was decorated like it would be the very pinnacle of Christmas time family cheer. Only, after coming back from the precinct, after telling Joe about his son, Barry couldn’t imagine this house feeling the joy of the holidays this year.
He places his keys on the entrance table and turns to head into the kitchen.
“Ho, ho, ho.”
Barry froze. Leonard Snart was leaning against the banister that divided the family room and the dining room, reindeer mug in hand and a smirk on his face.
He took a sip and grunted in disgust. “Cocoa isn’t cocoa without mini marshmallows, and you’re out. I checked.”
Barry flashed down into the lowered family room, facing Snart.
“Are you out of your mind? Breaking into my home?” He stepped closer to the man, pushing into his space. He heard the whir of the cold gun starting.
“Careful, made an upgrade to the cold gun. If I release my grip from the handle the core goes critical.” Barry glanced at the gun, breathing hard. “You might make it, but it will be oh so painful.” Len looked into Barry’s eyes. There was barely half a foot of space between them. Recognizing how close they were and how much Barry did not want to deal with the gun, not tonight, not after the confrontation with Joe, he stepped back. Len pushed off the banister. The cold gun powered down.
“Why are you here, Snart?”
“Got the Noel spirit, wanted to give you a little gift. Mardon broke Jesse and me out to kill you. Jesse’s on board, of course, shaking with excitement. Me? I’m gonna pass.”
“What, you grow a conscience?”
“Mardon wants revenge, Jesse wants chaos. I’m just not…invested, like they are.” He gave a tilt of his head.
“You mean, there’s no money in it for you.”
“I was never much for non-profit work.”
“If you’re not with them, then tell me where they are.”
“Nah, consider me more of a Secret Santa.” As he spoke, Snart stepped into Barry’s space, and gave him a wink. “Besides, you and your friends love to solve a good mystery.”
Barry scoffs, pointing a finger at Snart, and pushes it into his chest. “You are full of it, Snart.” Barry gestures at himself and Cold as he spoke of the two of them. “I think my friends and I saved your sister’s life and you can’t stand owing me a marker.” Barry tilts his head and points angrily at the ground, emphasizing each of his next words with a stab downward. “I hate to break it to you, but that, that right there is called honor.”
“Go on, make your pitch, I can see you’re dying to.” Snart rolls his eyes.
“Help me stop them.” Barry isn’t asking for his sake, he’s asking for Snart’s too. He knows, especially because the man came here tonight, that Snart just needed one push to help him realize he could be good. He could do good.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in being a hero.”
It’s Barry turn to scoff, and he shakes his head. “Well, you’re doing a pretty lousy job of being a villain this week.”
He can see that Snart doesn’t have a good comeback for that one. The minute the smirk fell off his face, he knew, and Leonard knew, that Cold wasn’t playing the role he should be. But Barry also knew that Cold wouldn’t agree to it, not this time.
“Merry Chirstmas, Snart,” Barry said, turning to get to his kitchen.
“Wait.” Barry stopped, but didn’t turn back.
“Let me guess, you just have to get the last word in, right Snart?” Cold only answered him with another question.
“Tell me, kid. Are you really gonna break tradition?”
“What?” Barry turned back to Cold, confusion contorting his features, head tilting just a bit.
“Look at what we’re standing under, Scarlet.” And, oh, how right Leonard Snart was to call Barry by that nickname as he looked up to see the mistletoe Caitlin had hung the day everybody had come over to decorate the house. He made the connection in his head, remembering what the tradition Snart was talking about meant. And the blush that started on Barry’s cheeks disappeared under his jacket.
He fumbled to find words, his hands wheeling in the air. “I—oh, its just, um, I don’t, but, really.” He took a breath, mind racing. Yes, he found Snart attractive, and maybe he’d had a fantasy or two where a fight between the two of them ended in a bedroom and not a jail cell. Snart smirked, and, oh that was just not fair. “You—You’re serious?”
“It wouldn’t be as fun if I was joking, Scarlet.” And he winked. Leonard Snart, aka, Captain Cold, winked at Barry Allen. “Don’t freeze on me, Barry,” Leonard murmured as he leaned into Barry, grabbing his shoulders to pull them close. He pressed their lips together briefly. It was too brief for Barry to respond to the warm lips pressing against his. He stood frozen, as if he really had been iced by Cold’s gun, as Leonard Snart brushed past him and up to the front door.
“Merry Christmas, Barry,” Leonard said it in a voice Barry had only heard once, when he was helping Leonard save Lisa. And then Leonard was out the door, closing it softly behind him.
So when Barry spoke next it was heard by no one.
“Merry Christmas, Leonard.”