[Talk about a deja-vu. It has actually occurred to him before now, just the thought of 'Why would they give them a gas stove?', but he hasn't thought about it beyond that, because this isn't his Mick. This isn't really his problem.
But now he doesn't even think about that. He simply looks at Mick, waiting for several moments, trying to gauge it. His voice is soft when he speaks, after taking a step closer. Uncharacteristically soft, free of the usual emphasis and filled with a different one. No less intense.]
[ He didn't notice Len come in. His brain is slow to recognize his name is being said too, but after a few seconds delay he blinks, remembering where he is. ]
...What? [ He can't quite tear his eyes away from it to look at Len, though. ] I'm fine, I was just -- isn't it beautiful?
[There are a few moments that pass without Len taking a breath or breathing out. Where he just watches Mick and tries to pretend that this doesn't bring up memories and those pesky emotions he claims not to have.]
Yeah. Gorgeous.
[Sarcasm. The best defence. Leonard moves next to Mick and turns the stove off, then leans back against it, blocking the view with his body and looking to catch his gaze instead. It's the same look and it shouldn't hurt the way it does.]
[ Actually physically turning off the stove is what does it. For a moment Mick's arm tenses up, as if he wanted to hit Len, before he catches himself and relaxes.
His face could best be described as a pout. He's torn between disappointed, ashamed and grateful. He focuses on Len, grasping onto reality. ]
[Of course he notices how Mick's arm tenses and he tenses in response, drawing his hands up. But Mick catches himself quickly and so Len at least seemingly relaxes as well. He's not that eager to get into a fight.]
Handling it?
[Just one glance back at the stove over his shoulder before he looks back at him.]
[Len moves one hand again, this time slower to abandon the movement. But he does, his hand wrapping around his own arm instead. This isn't a shoulder he knows he can touch. He can't know whether it'd be welcomed.]
No. Though it might depend on how long you're looking at what.
Indian, sure. Guessing you like it hot?
[There's that bit of heat between them. Literally. Oh, the power of literal puns, ever so convenient. Leonard watches the air flicker with heat and then it just dies down again.]
[ He noticed the movement; to be honest even he's not sure if he'd welcome it or slap Len's hand away. It's probably better he didn't follow through. ]
What was that? [ That was weird. Someone hasn't been clued into Len's powers yet. ] Uh. Yeah, the spicier the better.
[ He moves away a little, to rifle through a stack of junk mail and other things unceremoniously deposited on the counter by the fridge.
It keeps him from thinking about Cold catching him lost in the flames. Though now that he's more in the present, he's thinking about how easily Len seemed to know what to do. ]
[ Mick's mouth twists as he bristles a little. ] I know better than to get help from the freaks like Scarecrow running around. I like people, I ain't denying that. But that don't mean I can't tell who's bad news.
[ He pulls out the flyer for a local Indian restaurant. As prickly as he's feeling, those words are good to hear. ]
I know I can.
[ Said in the voice of a man trying to convince himself of that. ]
Maybe you can. I can't even wrap my head around the 'liking people' concept, so what do I know.
[He holds his hand out for the flyer, trying to push down on how domestic the moment feels, even with the pyromania talk. Especially with the pyromania talk, if he way honest.]
Do they have youtube around here?
[Wait.]
Right, I forgot, you wouldn't know. Ever used the internet?
[The same yet different, as always. Len catches himself looking at Mick just a little too long in the wrong way, so he lowers his gaze to study the menu instead. At least Indian takeout seemed to be cross-universal.]
Food is food, even if it's delivered by hover car.
[ He looks back at Leonard. He's surprised how easily he's become comfortable with him. While somehow never quite being comfortable at all. He reminds him of his Captain Cold, to be sure, but the good parts -- the parts of Len that he actually liked. They were getting along. And that irritated him. ]
[He knows that's not what he's saying, but whatever. He looks for the items that wouldn't be hot, figures out what would be hottest and decides that Piper and James are probably already taking care of food for themselves, so he won't have to worry about them.
However, he finally lifts his head again, bracing himself and thus not changing his expression as he looks right at Mick.]
I've been pretty good at taking care of myself for a while now. You don't have to worry about that.
[ Calling Cold out on things is something he's used to.
And he's not buying it. Well, then again... it does sound like the sort of logic Cold would have. And Mick probably wouldn't question it if it weren't for the fact that he suspects his alternate self means something more to this particular Leonard Snart.
He holds his gaze a moment more, before he looks away. ]
[Just a reminder. Perhaps mainly a reminder to himself.
His chest is too tight and he lowers his eyes quicker than Mick does. At least he keeps his face composed.
He wishes they looked nothing alike and yet.
Deep down he wants his composure to break, but he's learned a long time ago not to let anything touch him. At least never to let anything show. So instead he simply keeps his head down and finally dials the takeaway place.]
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But now he doesn't even think about that. He simply looks at Mick, waiting for several moments, trying to gauge it. His voice is soft when he speaks, after taking a step closer. Uncharacteristically soft, free of the usual emphasis and filled with a different one. No less intense.]
Mick.
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...What? [ He can't quite tear his eyes away from it to look at Len, though. ] I'm fine, I was just -- isn't it beautiful?
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Yeah. Gorgeous.
[Sarcasm. The best defence. Leonard moves next to Mick and turns the stove off, then leans back against it, blocking the view with his body and looking to catch his gaze instead. It's the same look and it shouldn't hurt the way it does.]
Maybe we should order take-in instead.
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His face could best be described as a pout. He's torn between disappointed, ashamed and grateful. He focuses on Len, grasping onto reality. ]
I was handling it.
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Handling it?
[Just one glance back at the stove over his shoulder before he looks back at him.]
Thankfully not quite yet.
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Just looking. Nothing wrong with looking. [ That's not the same as setting things on fire specifically to watch. Mick has to believe that.
He breathes out again. ] Ordering something sounds good. Indian?
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No. Though it might depend on how long you're looking at what.
Indian, sure. Guessing you like it hot?
[There's that bit of heat between them. Literally. Oh, the power of literal puns, ever so convenient. Leonard watches the air flicker with heat and then it just dies down again.]
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What was that? [ That was weird. Someone hasn't been clued into Len's powers yet. ] Uh. Yeah, the spicier the better.
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[He doesn't raise his hands for air quotes, since he's not a total dork, but they are there in his voice.]
I think we had a flyer somewhere.
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[ He moves away a little, to rifle through a stack of junk mail and other things unceremoniously deposited on the counter by the fridge.
It keeps him from thinking about Cold catching him lost in the flames. Though now that he's more in the present, he's thinking about how easily Len seemed to know what to do. ]
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[How are these powers supposed to be useful? Not that he really fancies himself having any powers.
He looks behind himself at the water remaining in the pot, his voice quiet.]
You're doing therapy?
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Under his breath: ] Shit.
Yeah. Yeah, I'm... shopping around. Signed up with basically everyone who offered.
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[Is that concern? Indeed it is. Whatever. It's Mick, so that justifies that. Even if it's the wrong Mick.]
You can control it. Control yourself. I've seen that.
[More or less. In a way. Mostly he's shifting the truth to be reassuring. He's a liar, sue him.]
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[ He pulls out the flyer for a local Indian restaurant. As prickly as he's feeling, those words are good to hear. ]
I know I can.
[ Said in the voice of a man trying to convince himself of that. ]
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[He holds his hand out for the flyer, trying to push down on how domestic the moment feels, even with the pyromania talk. Especially with the pyromania talk, if he way honest.]
Do they have youtube around here?
[Wait.]
Right, I forgot, you wouldn't know. Ever used the internet?
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He frowns at Len in response to the question. ] I've used the internet before, I'm not that outta touch. [ Beat. ] ...That's a website, right?
[ He's not THAT well-versed. ]
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It's a website, yeah. They've videos on there, they have ones that are just a burning fire, for several hours.
[In Mick's defence, Youtube is relatively new.]
Not sure if that'd make it better or worse for you, but it's an alternative to the real deal.
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He tells himself that a video would be kind of like the real thing. ]
Might work. Nothing to lose by giving it a try, right?
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[The same yet different, as always. Len catches himself looking at Mick just a little too long in the wrong way, so he lowers his gaze to study the menu instead. At least Indian takeout seemed to be cross-universal.]
They really do have the same stuff everywhere.
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[ He looks back at Leonard. He's surprised how easily he's become comfortable with him. While somehow never quite being comfortable at all. He reminds him of his Captain Cold, to be sure, but the good parts -- the parts of Len that he actually liked. They were getting along. And that irritated him. ]
You don't have to do this, you know.
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[He knows that's not what he's saying, but whatever. He looks for the items that wouldn't be hot, figures out what would be hottest and decides that Piper and James are probably already taking care of food for themselves, so he won't have to worry about them.
However, he finally lifts his head again, bracing himself and thus not changing his expression as he looks right at Mick.]
I've been pretty good at taking care of myself for a while now. You don't have to worry about that.
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[ He's watching Lens steadily. ]
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But then, he wouldn't have to. It'd be understood. Mutual.]
All I'm doing. I don't like to burn.
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And he's not buying it. Well, then again... it does sound like the sort of logic Cold would have. And Mick probably wouldn't question it if it weren't for the fact that he suspects his alternate self means something more to this particular Leonard Snart.
He holds his gaze a moment more, before he looks away. ]
Right.
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[Just a reminder. Perhaps mainly a reminder to himself.
His chest is too tight and he lowers his eyes quicker than Mick does. At least he keeps his face composed.
He wishes they looked nothing alike and yet.
Deep down he wants his composure to break, but he's learned a long time ago not to let anything touch him. At least never to let anything show. So instead he simply keeps his head down and finally dials the takeaway place.]
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