#hot topic has chairs behind the register which should help with the pots

[backtothestart02]

Fallen Star - 11/?

A/N: I’m pretty pleased with how this chap turned out. It was almost much angstier, so y’all can credit @westallen94 with inspiring me to make it a little more bittersweet than pure pain. lol.

*This chap goes out to @itzvickilou. Girl is so patient in between updates of this fic. And she did wait so long for this one. I hope this installment is one you end up loving, dear!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing. :)

Chapter 11 -

The door firmly shut behind her, Linda did her very best to put Barry Allen out of her mind. If she started acting weird, Iris would know something was up. She didn’t know how much wine her friend had consumed, but even after several drinks, Iris had a tendency to sense when something was being hidden from her.

Unfortunately for Linda, when she looked over at Iris, she saw her friend had not barely taken a sip out of her wine glass, and the bottle beside it was still very full.

So much for hoping that she was on her second glass, she mused, then scolded herself. Iris hadn’t wanted to get drunk tonight. She should be thrilled that despite her last-minute push for alcohol, Iris still maintained her sobriety.

“Pizza’s here!” Linda announced, promptly dropping the pizza box on the table in front of Iris.

Miraculously, the wine only swished a little in the glass and bottle.

Resigned, Iris switched her gaze from the blank wall in front of her to the pizza box Linda was opening.

“I’m not really hungry…” she began, her growling stomach promptly interrupting her.

Her face heating up, she met Linda’s gaze sheepishly, earning her a snort in return.

“Oh, yeah, I can tell.”

Still flustered, Iris accepted the inevitable and propped herself up so that she was sitting with her back against the arm of the couch.

“All right, well, what did you get?” she asked.

“Your favorite!” Linda cheered.

That intrigued her. “Oh, yeah?” She turned the now open pizza box toward her, then frowned.

“What?” she demanded. “It’s got all your favorites: red peppers, green peppers, onions, hot peppers, jalapeno peppers, mushrooms, and olives. I even made sure they added in that extra spicy sauce not included on the menu.”

“So, your favorite,” Iris concluded.

“What? No-” But it dawned on her then just how she knew about that sauce. A brief fling with a guy that worked there roughly five years prior. “Oh.”

Iris shook her head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. I’ll just pick stuff off.” She reached for a slice.

“But the sauce!” Linda warned, but it was too late – for both of them.

Iris thought she could handle her spice pretty well, but this was hotter than anything she’d ever tasted. She downed her whole wine glass in a single gulp and took the ice-cold glass of water Linda handed to her before she had time to down the wine bottle in its entirety.

“Wow.”

Linda laughed nervously. “Yeah…”

“Never again.” Iris pointed a finger accusingly at her best friend.

“Understood.”

Linda grabbed a slice for herself and plopped down on the couch beside Iris, eating the pizza as if it wasn’t setting her entire mouth ablaze and making her eyes water. She turned to see Iris staring at her, shock and disbelief on her face.

“Wha-?” she asked around a mouth full of food.

“I just…” Iris shook her head. “Nothing. You do you, girl,” she said, and poured her wine glass up halfway again.

“So, what are you gonna eat?” Linda asked after she’d downed her first slice and was reaching for another.

“That is an excellent question,” Iris said.

Linda winced. “I could order another pizza.”

She laughed. “How about I just make the brownies now, get high, and forget all about needing actual food in my system to get through the night?”

Linda’s eyes widened, panic setting off all her nerve endings.

“Right.” She swallowed. “Pot brownies.”

Iris had stood up and was about to head towards the kitchen, when she turned to look over her shoulder and saw the panicked look on her best friend’s face.

“I’m kidding.”

Linda blinked and looked up at her. “You are?”

She laughed and sat back down. “Yeah. That’s crime evidence. My dad’s a cop, but there’s only so many lines he’ll cross for his baby girl.” She took another sip of her wine.

Linda’s lips parted; her jaw dropped after what Iris said next.

“It’s just a good thing Barry figured out what was up and came over to demand the drugs. Would’ve been awfully embarrassing for me to have to return to the precinct with it, tail between my legs as I snuck it back to where it came from.”

The smack came on suddenly and had Iris rubbing at her arm and nearly spilling her wine.

“What the hell, West?” Linda demanded, but she was starting to laugh. “You could’ve let me in on your clever secret.”

She shrugged and sank back into the couch, cradling the wine glass in her hand.

“It wouldn’t have sold the same with Barry. And I needed him to actually show up.”

Linda’s brows furrowed.

“Why?”

Iris sunk into herself a little.

“So, I could see him,” she murmured to herself.

Linda’s heart broke.

“Oh, honey.” She took the wine glass from Iris’ hand, set it on the table, and pulled her best friend close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before sinking back into the couch. “You miss him that bad, huh?”

She knew she did. It was a foolish question. But she still asked it because for how crushed she’d appeared in the short period since their break-up, she was the rawest now, the most honest with her feelings.

“It’s like I can’t breathe, Lin. I feel like I’m suffocating every day, knowing I’m not going to be able to see him or talk to him…”

“I’m sure that’ll pass eventually, in time,” she offered. “It’s not like you won’t be a part of each other’s lives forever. You’re family. You’ll be friends again. It’s just…too soon.”

“I don’t know…I don’t know if I can go back to being just friends, Lin. And what about his threat to prevent me from going through with investigating any story that has even a hint of danger to it? If he follows through on that…I think I might just go crazy.”

“So, what are you saying? You’re not going to do that kind of story anymore?”

Iris scoffed. “No, of course not. I love those more than all the rest. They always have the biggest impact. They change lives.” She sighed.

Linda swallowed. “So, then…?”

“Maybe I just won’t be aggressive in searching for one.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Iris pulled back to look into her friend’s eyes.

“I mean…I think I was refusing the simpler stories simply because everyone was getting on my case to not do the more dangerous ones. Maybe the best way to transition is to not do that.”

“I hate to say it…but that may give your ex the impression that you’ve given up. That’s kind of letting him win.”

“It’s not a game, Linda.”

“No, I know it’s not. And I don’t like seeing you in danger, even if I understand why you do run straight into it something, but-”

“It’s okay, Linda. I get it. I’m not going to avoid the stories. I’ll just…take them as they come. And if I get bored of the mundane, which I most certainly will, those criminals will have something coming to them they wish they hadn’t.”

“And that is?”

She smiled mischievously. “Iris West.”

…

 A week and a half later, Iris sat at her desk at CCPN and congratulated herself on her progress. She hadn’t gone out for drinks with Linda for at least three days. She slept at her own apartment in her own bed. She was getting work done instead of stalling endlessly, unable to get Barry and their break-up out of her mind.

While she hadn’t been handed a story that would give her a high simply by imagining the potential of it, the stories she was researching, interviewing, writing for were still quality stories. No interrupted robbery, stalled kidnapping, or attempted prison break should go untold, especially when it was the Flash who was stopping these terrible crimes.

And who didn’t love hearing about the Flash’s latest save? Central City citizens loved the Flash. They loved learning about his latest exploits and how great he was. The Flash was good press. Who didn’t want good press? Especially in a newspaper, driving to keep people buying the tangible paper instead of just browsing online.

That was what she’d been hired for initially anyway. Her blog about the Flash.

Her mind came to an abrupt stop when those thoughts registered. She leaned back in her chair and scoffed, disgusted with herself.

“The you from two years ago would have been so disappointed.” She frowned, her nose scrunching up.

She was more than a Flash fangirl. She wanted to write about stories that mattered. They didn’t have to be life or death, but anyone could write about the Flash’s everyday saves. Especially now that she didn’t really have an in with him anymore. She wasn’t at STAR Labs. She wasn’t interacting with anyone there except her dad and brother. And really, they mostly avoided the topic when she saw them. She preferred it that way. So, why the hell was she writing recaps on the Flash’s saves when all she was seeing was what any other citizen on the street could see?

She was supposed to be an Insider. Interviewing people who had been eye witnesses didn’t make her an insider. It made her an interviewer who could transfer words to paper. Which of course was a desirable trait in the industry, but nothing to make her a stand out. Nothing that would save lives. The Flash saved lives every day. Why shouldn’t she?

She pushed herself up out of her chair and walked out of her office down the hall to her editor’s.

“I need to speak with you,” she announced on entry.

Scott lifted his eyes up from the paperwork littering his desk and considered her with a look.

“Miss West, how can I help you?”

“I need you to know that I’m not gonna be your Flash girl anymore.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re not?”

“No.”

“You really seem to have a knack for it, though. And you’ve been choosing those stories over literally anything else out there for the past week.”

“I know.”

“And wasn’t that what you were initially hired for?”

She ground her teeth.

“Initially. And I didn’t know it until I got here and found out I wasn’t allowed to write anything else.”

“All right. I’ll bite.” He relaxed in his seat. “What do you want to write, Iris?”

“Something…exciting. Something that matters. Something that will make me work a little. I want to live on the edge.”

He smirked in a way she knew she could have found attractive once upon a time. But there was no hint of a flutter in her chest this time around. Just a hopefulness that he would give her what he asked.

“I think I may have something along those lines.” He turned around in his seat and reached for a file hidden among the clutter there. He flipped through the contents before closing it and handing it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking it immediately, greedy for a story that would make her forget all about the Flash.

“All the information I have on a new arms dealer in town with access to sophisticated weaponry like what Plunder used.”

Her eyes flashed. “Plunder.”

“Your most popular piece in the past week. Surely you can’t have forgotten already.”

No. Of course she hadn’t. Jared Morillo, a.k.a. Plunder, had a penchant for expensive jewelry. With the advanced tech on his guns, it took Flash interrupting him mid-theft three times before he was finally caught. That wasn’t emphasized so much though as was the fact that despite how dangerous he was, he was caught, just like all the others Flash had put to a stop.

“Iris?”

She blinked, looking back at Scott.

“Sorry,” she blurted. “I was just remembering.”

“Right.” He eyed her with some concern, but she ignored it. “Well, this guy looks like he might be similar or possibly worse. He could be a copycat, or he could be in line with Plunder and just picking up where he left off.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She paused for a beat then asked the question she knew she had to. “And…the police?”

He folded his hands in his lap. “I don’t know if they know anything. If they do, it’s not their top priority. I know your dad’s a detective, so if you think it’d be better in his han-”

“I’ll take it.” No way was she letting him finish that sentence. “I won’t let you down.”

He smiled a little. “I look forward to your article, Miss West.”

She smiled a little herself, then backed out of the office and retreated to her own. Setting the file on her desk, she closed out the tabs on her computer and opened a new one.

She could feel the blood pumping through her veins again, the adrenaline from taking on an exciting story that few people were even aware of. And it would change lives. She would make a difference.

…

CCPN was in near darkness when Iris left later that night. She’d gotten a lot of research done, but she knew she’d had to do a lot more, as well as interviewing several possibly connected parties before she could move in on the situation. For now, though, she was content.

And hungry. And exhausted.

She half-debated calling up Linda for some food, but her girl had looked more exhausted than she felt now when she left three hours ago. She decided not to bug her. It was a five-block walk to her apartment from here. She knew there was a good chance there was something to eat in her fridge, and with her apartment being as small as it was, her bed wasn’t far away either.

She cut down the same alleyway as always, not paying mind to how quiet it was, even though it was late. She was almost to the end of it when she thought she saw something move in her peripheral vision. She didn’t stop moving, but she turned her head slightly to see if there was anyone behind her or if she’d imagined it. She didn’t see anyone, but she did pull her purse higher up her shoulder.

Please don’t let me be mugged. Please don’t let me be mugged.

She rehearsed the kickboxing moves she hadn’t used in years in her mind, just in case she needed to pull them out at 11:30 at night in a dark alley that she just now was considering maybe wasn’t the best shortcut she could be taking.

She felt a tugging on her purse and spun around just in time to see a gun pointed in her face. Breathing heavily, she held her hands up in the air. Some fancy punches might work in hand-to-hand combat, but they wouldn’t do so well with a speeding bullet. Not when she was alone like this.

“Give me your purse,” the masked man demanded. “Hand it over or I’ll shoot.”

She wanted to retaliate, to talk back, and maybe she’d be able to, but not tonight. Fear was enveloping her in full force, demanding she succumb to it.

“But it matches her coat so nicely,” came the vibrating voice in the distance.

Iris felt the load lift off her shoulders and relief course through her.

The man turned around to see who’d addressed him, and when he did, Iris snatched the gun out of his hand and stuck it in her own purse.

“What the-”

But the Flash had him in CCPD custody before he could question what had become of his gun.

Iris was breathing heavily once she reached her apartment. She loved the thrill of running into a situation, knowing what great things it would do for her readers and those in danger once she came out the other side. But when it was out of her control, even if it was just a simple mugging, it was terrifying.

She’d have it out of her system by morning, she was sure. But as she sat the gun down on the kitchen table and stared at, she experienced again her hairs standing on end, her heart racing as she stared at the barrel intending to end her life.

The knock at the door startled her. She almost didn’t answer it, but then-

“Iris?”

Another sigh of relief.

“Iris, it’s me.”

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the gun, went to the door and opened it. She was greeted by a worried Barry Allen, who looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

“Come to collect the evidence agai-”

“Are you okay?”

Her tongue suddenly thick and heavy in her mouth, it took her a while to find words.

“Y-yeah,” she rasped. “I’m…I’m okay, Barry.”

He swallowed and nodded, then looked down at the weapon in her hand.

“I…I should probably…”

“Yeah, of course.”

She handed it over to him, and their fingers touched, not moving for the longest time. She could barely breathe.

Barry snapped out of it first, tucking the gun into his pocket before hesitantly looking up at her.

“You handled herself really well out there, Iris.”

Her heart raced. That was the kind of glowing compliment that usually led to sex. Especially because she knew it was genuine.

“I couldn’t have done it without the Flash,” she said softly, kicking herself when she remembered that their estrangement was based on her not needing him to save her.

“You’re really okay?” he asked. That should’ve annoyed her, but the tenderness in his voice was so…

“I’m fine, Barry. I promise.”

He swallowed and nodded. She could see the wheels in his mind working, wanting to say or do something because of how long it had been. Maybe he’d been missing her as much as she’d missed him. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to see her. Hell, maybe he’d coerced the guy into trying to rob her so he could save the day. At the moment, even the latter possibility didn’t bother her.

“Well, then, I guess I should-” He started to back away.

“Are you okay, Barry?” she asked, biting her bottom lip as she leaned against the doorframe.

He stilled and met her eyes. His mouth opened and closed several times, saying everything and nothing, the same as her. She wanted to yell and cry and scream and hug him and kiss him and pull him into her apartment and make love to him just to feel his skin against hers again, hear his racing heartbeat against her ear when she laid her head on his chest.

But of course, none of that happened. It couldn’t.

“Goodnight, Barry,” she said softly, so he wouldn’t have to answer.

He smiled slightly, appreciatively. “Goodnight, Iris.”

And then he was gone. She saw the flash of red as he ran past her window and sighed as she leaned back against her door.

“The man I love is a superhero,” she whispered to herself.

Then her eyes closed, and tears soaked her eyelashes.

So close, but not close enough.

*Also posted on AO3.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #fallen star #chapter 11