Characters: Cisco Ramon, Mick Rory

Genre: Friendship-y

Pairings: Mick/Cisco if you want it to be, but not intended.

Notes: Set after the alien invasion ep, before the season finale of Season 2 of Legends but after Mick has gotten away from the Legion.

Mick needs a suit, okay? Fight me.

"Hey uh…Mick?"

Mick glanced up from where he had been cleaning his gun to find Cisco shifting from foot to foot in front of him, one hand nervously running up and down his arm and teeth gnawing on his lower lip. Behind him, Ray was deep in conversation with Barry and Caitlin about their recent travels, probably geeking out about the multitude of eras they had been to. "What?"

"I-I have something for you," Cisco said, his voice breaking a little. "If you want it."

He raised a slow eyebrow. "Gotta tell me what it is first, nerd."

Cisco flushed and nodded his head towards the hall, walking out before Mick could say anything. He sighed but put the cleaning cloth down and followed, giving Ray a shrug at the curious look he was shot.

They were on leave for about three days while Rip and Jax made repairs to Gideon and replenished their supplies, so they had settled down in Central City near STAR Labs, where they could find help if they needed it. Ray had dragged Mick along to the lab, saying he wanted Cisco to help him make some upgrades to his suit, and, seeing as how Lisa was out of town, Mick really had nothing better planned.

When he stepped into Cisco's work room, the young man was pacing in front of a covered bundle of something, squeezing his hands like he was attempting to juice them and all in all giving Mick a headache.

"Yo. Ramon. What is it?"

Cisco jolted at his voice and swallowed, dropping his hands and tapping his thighs. "I…after the alien invasion and stuff, I started working on this thing and um…I should probably just show you, I guess."

Mick almost gave a snarky reply, but his breath caught when Cisco pulled away the sheet to reveal-

"Is that a-?"

"Fireproof costume?" Cisco finished sheepishly. "Maybe."

The outfit was incredibly simple, considering all the other costumes Cisco had made. It was a dark tan color and looked smooth to the touch, a belt with a holster slung around the waist and deep brown boots sitting at the base of the mannequin. The area around the neck and sleeves was thicker, a dark orange rather than tan, and looked more durable. There was no symbol, no mask, no leather, just a simple, tough material.

"Is it okay?"

Mick shook himself from his train of thought and turned his gaze to the idiot in front of him, who looked like he was going to bolt. "Why?" was all he could ask.

Cisco seemed startled. "You-you've really become a good guy, Mick." He snorted, an amused smile crossing his face. "Never thought I'd say that."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that."

The kid nodded his acknowledgement and went back to fidgeting with his shirt tail. "After you all left, I realized you didn't have any kind of protection against the fire in your gun? And that just…didn't feel right to me. I made it as simple as possible, and if you don't like something I can change it, but it's totally fireproof, heat resistant, it has gloves, and you can still use your goggles with it, 'cause it doesn't cover the head, but-"

"Ramon."

Cisco gulped back his words and watched Mick circle the suit, gaze steely as he pulled off a glove and ran scarred fingers over the surface. It was smooth.

"Fireproof?" he confirmed.

Cisco gave a weak smile. "Yeah. And uh…there's a holster, for your gun. Plus there's a lock picking kit in the belt, and also some repair tools. If you-if you have problems with your gun at any point."

Mick grunted in acknowledgment, turning his back to Cisco under the pretense of studying the material around the cuffs. Really, he was trying to press back the emotion in his throat.

He had never had someone go to this much effort for him, ever, even Snart. Especially not in concern for his safety. Certainly never someone he had kidnapped and almost killed. Nor someone who worked with a guy that had fought him for well over a year.

"Do you like it?"

The question was gentler, less scared, and Mick managed a single nod of his head. "It's good," he muttered. "The cuffs and neck?"

"Stronger material. Skin around those areas is more sensitive, burns easier. Didn't want anything getting up the sleeves or down the top, so they kinda cling to your skin. Adjustable to your comfort."

Mick pursed his lips and glanced back at Cisco, a wry smile pulling at his lips. "Missin' a symbol, ain't it?"

Cisco grinned slowly. "It's not, actually."

He tilted his head towards the belt buckle, sealed in something that looked like gold but most likely wasn't and, sure enough, pressed deep into the metal was a flame. A single flicker, three peaks, captured in a circle and gleaming under the low lights.

"It doubles as a distress beacon," Cisco said as Mick ran his bare thumb over it. "If it ever gets broken, both your team and our team will be alerted."

He fell silent again and Mick turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't say this often," the pyro murmured, dropping his gaze. "But thanks. And sorry. For uh…"

"I know."

Mick glanced up to find Cisco with a warm smile on his face, hands tucked comfortably into his pockets. He shrugged. "We all kinda decided to trust you the moment you saved our asses. Plus, Ray vouches for you. No apology needed, though I appreciate it."

"So then I can-?"

He gestured towards the suit, feeling awkward, and Cisco's face brightened further. "Dude, duh. I've been waiting to see if you liked it for like, weeks! I had no idea when you guys were gonna be back so I had to be ready."

He left Mick in the room alone to change and Mick took a moment to fondle the fabric, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head as he blinked back tears. "If Snart could see me now," he laughed to himself, slipping the comfortable fabric on. It seemed to almost cool the burns the scattered his body, and when he zipped it completely closed, the neck and cuffs practically suctioned to his skin. He buckled the belt low on his waist, slinging the gun into its holster, and then tugged the goggles around his neck where they usually sat.

He almost snorted when he looked in the mirror; goddamn superhero outfits were cheesy as fuck. It didn't stop the odd feeling of pride from rising up in his gut, however.

Secretly, though he'd never say it out loud to Cisco, or anyone else, for that matter, he kind of enjoyed the whole "good-guy" gig.

It certainly had its perks.