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The shot rang out in the warehouse, and Len sighed as the grunt fell to the ground. Lisa had told him not to work with him. He had all the marks of someone who would turn on his partners as soon as something changed the plans. Len had been prepared to let it go, even after he shot the security guard, but watching him glance at the gun on the table while he ranted about this Streak that was terrorizing criminals of the city, well…
Len did what he had to do. Always. Some old advice, possibly from his father before he went bad, possibly from one of his business acquaintances, rang in his mind. Look out for yourself, always.
He did.
“Was that really necessary?” a voice called, and Len rolled his eyes. But at least he didn’t have to actually call Barry, since he was here already. He’d probably asked Lisa, not telling her why he needed to know where Len was staying. For some reason, Lisa liked Barry more than she liked Len. Maybe foster care had been a bonding experience.
Len glared at his erstwhile partner. (Not his partner in crime, of course. That title belonged to Mick. But Len absolutely refused to use such a juvenile term as boyfriend, especially when the boy part could be so easily emphasized by the wrong people. Being nearly twice someone’s age was irritating in a romantic relationship.) Barry didn’t have the grace to look ashamed. He wasn’t wearing the suit, at least, and the others had left to get things to take care of the body cooling on the floor. Instead, he had a faint frown on his face, like he’d smelled something bad. Maybe he had. Bowels had a habit of letting loose in death.
“He was approximately ten seconds away from going after everyone here with a gun, so, yes. Incredibly necessary. Let’s talk about this superhero con you’re playing.”
Barry had the grace to look ashamed, at least. Still, his chin came up, defiant in every bone. Len would never admit that he loved that about Barry.
“It’s not a con, Len, it’s the right thing to do with freaks like Nimbus getting powers on top of being psychopaths, and you agreed you’d stay out of it. If you talked to me about jobs, we could have worked something out before I ended up having to do this one for you.”
Len raised an eyebrow. Barry put the diamond on the table between them, grinning. Len felt his lips twitch in response.
“That’s effective,” he said. He looked at the diamond, then back at Barry. “What do you want?”
He knew that expression. Three years (minus nine months of coma) were fantastic for that aspect of a relationship. He could read Barry better even than Lisa, who had had five years of living in the same house to fall back on.
“Janitor at STAR Labs stole the one gun that could kill me,” Barry said. He leaned against the table, hands braced on it – hiding the tension there, smart but ineffective against Len. “He’ll be selling it, and a heat gun, to the highest bidder. And you need to make up with Mick already, because if people think they can kill you, you need him to remind them why that’s not true.”
Len blinked. He considered paying a visit to Cisco Ramon, who was the resident inventor at STAR Labs, and possibly shooting him as well. But… after the fiasco with Dillon and Scudder, Lisa had thought she couldn’t love anyone normal. And, other than apparently wanting to be able to kill Barry, which Len could almost understand, Cisco was very normal. Lisa would kill Len if he went after her boyfriend now.
Besides, if Barry were really in danger, he’d just kill Cisco himself. Cold-blooded murder might make him nauseous, but he had nothing against self-defense. Len knew that well enough, after having to negotiate that particular aspect of his life with a then-preteen who actually dared him to be a better thief – after picking his pocket so well Len hadn’t even noticed.
The game had been fun again after he started following those guidelines. It was one of the reasons he put up with Barry’s strange bouts of nobility and heroism.
“Barry Allen, are you asking me to be your nemesis?” he asked. The grunts came back in, wordlessly taking the body out. Everyone knew about Len’s partner, especially since he wouldn’t put up with being in any closet with his father in the ground. The dumb ones had a problem with it.
These days, even the dumb ones knew what skinny little Barry Allen would do. No one mentioned it.
“That’s not actually what I meant, but… well.” Barry’s voice had a distinct edge to it, one Len appreciated. “I didn’t think you liked playing cops and robbers.”
“Everyone likes playing cops and robbers, Barry.” If he hadn’t been working, he would have taken Barry to the little private room he’d fixed up here. As it was, he just asked, “What exactly does this gun do?”
Barry grinned.
“It makes the temperature inside a beam of light reach absolute zero, freezing the surroundings in the process.”
“Cool,” Len said. He could already see how this would affect Barry’s super speed. Despite what people thought about him only having a GED, no high school diploma, he knew he was smart. So was Ramon, if he could get a gun like that to work. He smirked, and Barry groaned. “I’ll remember to get something warm to wear first. When should my first public appearance as a supervillain be, then? Assuming I get the cold gun, that is.”
Barry rolled his eyes and sped over to Len, pressing him against the table. Dating people who were his height was always bizarre, and strangely, Barry seemed even taller when lightning sparked off of him. The allure of power, Len figured. It had to be.
“Of course you will,” Barry murmured against his mouth. “If you let anything happen to me, Lisa would kill you herself. And I’d probably help.”
Len decided this conversation had really taken too much time, even if he was working and had a policy about this sort of thing.
“I like it when you’re bloodthirsty,” he said, and then there was no more talking for a while.