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~*~
Barry heard a knock on the door and groaned, burying his head beneath one of Len's pillows. Len had been gone for the last two or three days, and between CSI work and the nightly outings of the Flash, he'd taken to power-napping at Len's apartment, where everything was nice and quiet and always a little too cool. Maybe if he just stayed quiet, Lisa (it was only ever Lisa at this apartment, Barry had realized, and he couldn't help feeling a little warm at the fact that Len let Barry in, too) wouldn't know he was here.
He heard the click of heels in the kitchen, the muffled step down the hall, and made a face into the pillow, grimacing in annoyance. He could always flash out of the room and out of the apartment, but he was comfortable.
"I'm borrowing your shower!" Lisa said from the doorway, and paused. "Oh. It's you again."
Barry raised his head and opened his eyes. Lisa's face was covered in soot, and his nose twitched at the acrid smell of burned hair. "Sorry?" He rubbed his nose to stop the itch and sat up, shaking himself fully awake. "What happened to you?"
"Shower first," Lisa said, turning on her heel. "Ice cream and gossip later." Lisa closed the door to the bathroom behind her.
Barry rubbed his hand through his hair and then dashed off the bed, straightening the covers so that it was nice and tidy, the way Len had left it. He yawned again and then went into the kitchen to get out the ice cream. He thought about getting bowls, and then thought about Lisa, and with only a little guilt got out the entire gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream and two spoons.
Lisa came stomping down the hall fifteen minutes later, in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair wrapped in a towel. She stopped when she saw Barry and the ice cream. "You're officially my favorite of Len's boyfriends."
Barry frowned and opened his mouth, then closed it again. Favorite, as in he'd had a lot and Barry was the best one? Or favorite, as in Len was seeing eight people and Barry was the best of the bunch? Having a kinda sorta open relationship with a dude who time-traveled and may or may not be your boyfriend was really confusing.
Lisa flopped down on the couch and took a spoonful of ice cream, shoving it into her mouth. "Okay." She swallowed and pointed at Barry with her spoon. "You've met Mick. Big guy, burned, is kind of a dick?"
Barry dug into the ice cream and nodded. "Yeah, I remember him."
"Well, we were—" Lisa gave him a sideways look, "—doing absolutely nothing wrong and were very well behaved, and he set my jacket on fire. My jacket! It was my favorite!"
Barry tilted his head. "Does Mick normally set you on fire?"
"Not usually." Lisa looked away and ate another spoonful of ice cream. "I...may have started April Fool's early."
Barry ate two spoonfuls of ice cream to steel himself. "Okay, what did you do?"
"He's crashing on my couch right now. And I may have…" Lisa examined her nails. "I may have put his hand in a bowl of warm water while he was sleeping."
"Lisa." Barry shook his head, and she glared at him.
"Hey, my couch suffered, too, okay? I'll have to buy a new one." Lisa jammed her spoon into the ice cream and pulled down the towel from her hair, drying it vigorously.
"Iris and I pranked Joe one year," Barry offered. "We put Icy Hot on the toilet seat."
Lisa froze and turned wide, maniacal eyes to Barry. "Barry. Barry. Yes."
~*~
Mick tolerated the prank (he said he liked the burn, and Barry was never, ever getting over how freaking weird Heatwave was) and then retaliated by giving both Barry and Lisa beers (with egg yolk hiding in them, and he was never getting that sensation out of his throat ever) and somehow that escalated into gold covered hydrangea bushes and a burned lawn. There were feathers. How were there feathers?
"Lisa." Len's voice cut through the noise, heavy with disapproval, and the three of them froze, surprisingly in sync as they turned to see Len, his arms folded over his chest, taking in the scene. "Mick."
Mick scowled and lowered his heat gun, glaring back at Len. "Lisa started it."
Barry's heart sank when Len turned that glare on him, and he raised his hands in immediate surrender.
"Barry. I expected better from you."
Barry smiled, crooked and abashed. "Your family is persuasive?"
Len took in the scene one more time—Barry, Mick, Lisa, feathers, fire, gold. He turned back around. "Tomorrow." He went to his motorcycle (and how had Barry not heard him driving up to Lisa's apartment? Lisa and Mick were the worst) and fastened his helmet on his head, speeding away without a word.
Barry thought about the empty tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream in Len's trash and winced. Maybe he wouldn't care.
Maybe Barry should make a run to the grocery store. Just in case.
~*~