Chapter Text
“Allen!” Captain Singh called as soon as she stepped into the station Friday morning. “We just got word that the Royal Flush Gang is back.”
“Where?” Barry asked immediately.
The Royal Flush Gang – so nicknamed because of their playing-card face masks – had first popped up in Central three years previously. They’d robbed several banks before disappearing for a few months and popping up again in Keystone. Over the past few years, they’d also hit banks in Rapid City, Hub City, Jump City, and Coast City. Barry had been the original CSI on the case. Since they’d lost the gang after the first city, Singh had made a point of sending Barry to every single crime scene, no matter what the city, in hopes that the CCPD could finally contribute to catching the criminals.
“Starling City,” the captain said grimly.
“I just need to check my kit, and then I can leave,” Barry reported.
The captain raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t you need to go home and pack?”
“I’m the single mother of a preschooler, Captain,” Barry replied. “And you know how clumsy I am. I always keep a couple changes of clothes in my car.”
While true, her actual plan was to raid the stash of clothes Moira kept furnishing her bedroom at Queen Mansion with.
“Keep your receipts,” the captain ordered. “The department will reimburse you for any food and lodging fees.”
“I went to college in Starling; I can stay with a friend,” Barry said dismissively. She looked over at her foster father. “Joe?”
“I’ll keep an eye on your kids and the dog,” he said. “I can get Iris to stay over there while you’re gone.”
“Thanks, Joe,” Barry said gratefully.
“Any time now, Allen,” Captain Singh reminded.
“Going, sir,” Barry replied, hurrying up the stairs to her lab to grab her kit.
She was on a plane to Starling less than an hour later. She had no idea how the captain had managed to get her on a flight and through security that fast, but she chalked it up to him being a CCPD captain.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t contacted Moira or Oliver yet. Oh well.
It was a three-and-a-half-hour flight from Central to Starling. Barry spent the time reading the latest copy of Science Monthly, which had an article about Harrison Wells’ particle accelerator, being built in Central by STAR Labs. Its estimated completion date was less than a year away.
When she arrived in Starling, she was surprised to spot a sign reading, BARRY ALLEN, CCPD. She wandered over, and got another surprise to see it was Detective Quentin Lance.
“Detective Lance,” she greeted with a smile. “Isn’t picking up a consulting CSI from the airport a bit below your pay grade?”
The man shrugged.
“When I heard it was you, I volunteered. I wanted to check up on you after what happened the last time you were here. How’s the ankle?” he asked.
“All healed up,” Barry promised. “I’ve been off the crutches for a few days now. It was a little awkward, taking my daughter trick-or-treating while on crutches, but I managed to con a friend into dressing up as Darth Vader and escorting her around.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Detective Lance said, gesturing for her to walk with him out of the airport. “Boyfriend?”
Barry smiled tightly. “Died while I was pregnant. A mugging, shortly after Sara died. They never caught whoever did it.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the detective replied quietly.
“It’s been five years,” Barry replied with a sad smile. “It was a tough time. First, I lost one of my closest friends, then my boyfriend, all within a couple months? And I was pregnant? I was a bit of a mess for a while. Then the detectives on the case…well, they weren’t the best. A lot of people at the station couldn’t participate because of the personal connection. The CSI they used was terrible.”
Detective Lance led her straight to a police cruiser parked in the loading zone.
“Police privilege,” he said with a small smirk. “Do you want to put your case in the back?”
“Please,” Barry said. She put her kit in the trunk and slammed it closed before walking around to the passenger door. She got in just as Detective Lance started the car.
“So, are you working the Royal Flush Gang case?” she questioned.
“My partner is,” he said. “It’s not really our department, but once a cop dies, it’s everyone’s department.”
“I completely understand,” Barry said seriously.
“Do you want to go to the station first, or the bank?” Quentin asked.
“Bank, please. I prefer to collect my own information from the scene, and then I can meet with your CSIs at the station to compare notes. See if we can figure something out,” Barry said.
It was hours later that Barry realized the day was practically over and she still hadn’t asked if she could stay over at Queen Mansion. She fished her phone out of her pocket at called Moira.
“Hello, Barry,” the woman greeted. “Is something wrong?”
“Not really,” Barry said, wedging the phone between her shoulder and ear as she ran a test on a hair she’d found. “I’m in Starling for work and I was wondering if I could stay at the mansion?”
“Of course,” Moira said. “Our home is always open to you. It’s quiet at the moment – Walter’s still on Australia on his business trip. Would you like me to send someone to pick you up?”
“That would be fantastic,” Barry said. “I’m at the station. I ought to be done in less than an hour.”
“I’ll expect you in time for dinner, then,” Moira said before hanging up.
Half an hour later, there was a knock on the doorframe of the lab. Barry turned to see Oliver standing there.
“I heard you needed a ride?” he asked with a small smile.
“I do,” Barry said, smiling back. “Give me just a minute to write the results of this last test down and I can be done.”
“So what case are you here for?” Oliver asked as she wrote.
“Royal Flush Gang. They’re a team of bank robbers – started in Central three years ago. I’ve been running around after them ever since,” Barry reported. “And…done!”
She pressed the save button with satisfaction and then went through the motions of shutting down the computer. She glanced over to see a pensive look on Oliver’s face.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“It’s nothing.”
Barry gave him a look.
“I’m just a bit worried about you,” Oliver protested. “I saw the news report on those guys. They shot a cop. What if something happens to you?”
“This is the first time they’ve gotten seriously violent,” Barry said. “I hardly doubt that they’re going to seek me out to do something to me. And besides, I’m either at the police station or at your house. Last time I checked, that was pretty safe.”
Conversation on the car ride home ended up being mostly banalities and talk of how Livvy was doing.
“She’s still working her way through her Halloween candy,” Barry said. “Thank you again, for coming out to go trick-or-treating with her.”
“I’m glad I did,” Oliver said honestly. “After all the parts of her life that I missed, I’m glad I got to see this.”
“Well, you’re welcome on any and every holiday,” Barry said sensibly. “Actually, why don’t you, Moira, and Walter come out to Central for Thanksgiving? We won’t be serving turducken, like the last time I had Thanksgiving at your house, but between Iris, Thea, and I, we can accomplish the traditional trappings of Thanksgiving dinner pretty well. And that way you all can see Livvy and Thea without us having to skip Thanksgiving with Joe and Iris. And you can give your staff a few days off to spend with their families.”
“Sounds good to me,” Oliver said. “It’ll be a bit harder to conceal our identities though. Going around in a Darth Vader costume worked on Halloween, but it won’t work on Thanksgiving.”
“You never know,” Barry replied. “I’m sure you could pull it off.”
The next morning, Barry grabbed Oliver on the way down to breakfast. She had nothing more to do at the station, though she was on call for when the next robbery occurred.
“I mean, have you noticed she’s been acting a little off lately?” she asked him. He gave her a blank look. Barry rolled her eyes. “What am I saying? You’re a guy, of course you haven’t.”
“Well who are you to judge?” Oliver argued. “Since when do you pay attention to how my mom’s feeling? You don’t even live here!”
“Since your stepfather suddenly decided to take a business trip halfway around the world a couple weeks ago?” Barry shot back.
“I think when someone at Walter’s pay grade takes a business trip halfway around the world, it’s always sudden, Barry,” Oliver said as they continued down the stairs.
“Ah,” Moira said as she walked into the foyer below them, a bouquet of white flowers in one hand. “Guess who I just hung up with?”
Oliver shrugged as Moira moved to place the flowers on the table.
“Janice Bowen,” Moira reported. “Carter’s mother.”
“Ah,” Oliver and Barry chorused. Barry had only met the guy a couple times, but she’d certainly heard about him, from Oliver, Laurel, Sara, Thea, and Moira.
Oliver let out a small laugh as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Carter Bowen, the perfect son,” Oliver said.
Moira turned from her flowers and raised an eyebrow.
“Is he perfect?” she asked.
“According to you,” Oliver pointed out. “Carter Bowen just won the national chess championship,” he said in a higher-pitched voice. “Carter Bowen is anchoring the debate team.”
Barry muffled a laugh.
“I’m sure I didn’t make that big of a fuss,” Moira scoffed.
Barry decided to join in.
“Oliver, Carter just got accepted into Harvard and Princeton,” she said exaggeratedly.
“Well, that’s because Carter got a perfect score on his SATs,” Oliver continued.
“Now how did he manage to study and cure cancer?” Barry asked.
“I don’t know,” Oliver said, just as Moira interrupted, “Alright, alright, alright. I get it, I get it. Well, they’re coming for brunch, and I expect you to be there,” she said with a smile.
“I have plans,” Oliver said.
“That’s fine,” Moira said. “Brunch is tomorrow.”
Barry chuckled.
“Inches from a clean getaway,” she said quietly.
“Well, you too, Barry, as long as you’re still here,” Moira said.
Barry tried not to sigh. Carter had flirted horribly – and badly – the last time they’d seen each other. She’d made it very clear that she was dating someone else (Sara) at the time, though she hadn’t named names. Even outright saying she was dating a girl didn’t get him to back off. He’d just said that he could convince her away from such silly notions. He was a sexist douche.
“Snap,” Oliver said, pointing to her.
“Nobody says that anymore,” she pointed out as Moira began to walk away.
“What?” Oliver complained, before turning to his mother. “Mom?”
“Hm?” she asked, spinning around elegantly.
“I can’t actually go,” Oliver said apologetically.
“I haven’t seen the Bowens in years,” Moira said, walking closer. “So whatever it is that you have planned, I’m sure you can make the sacrifice just this once.”
Oliver nodded solemnly.
“We’ll be there.”
Moira smiled as she walked away.
“I hate you,” Barry said quietly to Oliver. He merely smirked in reply. She turned away and walked into the breakfast room as Oliver’s phone rang. He ducked in a moment later to tell her that something had come up and he was heading out, and he’d see her later. Barry barely had time to acknowledge that before he was gone.
She heard Tommy enter, and walked out of the room to greet him.
“He sure moves fast, doesn’t he?” she offered.
“Hey,” Tommy said with a smile. “What are you doing back here?”
“Work,” Barry shrugged. “Just me this time. But while I’m on call, I don’t actually have anything to do at the moment, so if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
“You know,” Tommy said. “Maybe you could help. There’s this girl that I’m…uh…interested in, and I am really not sure how to pursue it.”
Barry’s brow furrowed. She’d never seen Tommy question himself about one of his conquests before.
“Have you tried using your usual lines?” she joked. “’Hi, my name is Tommy Merlyn and I’m a billionaire, but I don’t look like Warren Buffet.’”
Tommy chuckled.
“Yeah, she is aware of that, and she doesn’t care. Money isn’t really a big deal to her.”
Barry had the sneaking suspicion that she knew who this was about.
“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”
“Well, I’ve known her for…a long time, and I’m not sure the direct approach is really the way to go,” Tommy said.
Now Barry was almost sure.
“Maybe you need to figure out what’s a big deal to her and make it a big deal to you?” Barry offered.
A smile stole onto Tommy’s face.
“Barry,” he said, “you are amazing.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek before turning and heading out the door. “Love you!”
“Let me know how it goes!” she called after him as he closed the door.
She eventually wandered back to the station to go through the evidence and security footage again, attempting to find something she could give to the detectives. She found it in the video footage.
“The Ace of Spades has been identified as the most violent member of the gang,” she explained to Detective Hilton. “I noticed he wore a ring in the security footage, a ring that he’s worn every other time we’ve gotten video of him. Now, before now, I’ve only been able to approximate the markings on it before now, and I’ve never managed to get a hit, but when he hit the bank manager, his ring left an imprint. By running the reverse of that imprint through the Starling databases, I got a match. The Ace is a former student at Larchmont High School. The Royal Flush Gang is local. And since they’re returning home, this is probably their final spree, and thus our final chance to catch them.”
“You’re brilliant, kid,” Detective Lance said from the next desk. “Got anything else?”
“Since he’s wearing a high school ring, we can presume that he didn’t go to college. We can safely assume that he either graduated or dropped out of Larchmont more than three years ago, before the first robberies, but no more than a decade ago, based on his approximate age. It’s not much, but it’s someplace to start,” Barry shrugged.
It was only a couple hours later that she figured some other information out.
“There’s four members of the gang, not three,” she announced to the detective. “There were more women inside the bank than exited the bank, but there were no women left inside. Therefore, one woman left with the gang, and I’m guessing it was the same woman who revealed to the Ace of Spades that Officer Washington was a cop. Based on the approximate ages of the King of Spades, the woman, the Ace, and the Jack, I don’t think we’re looking for just any group. I think we’re looking for a family.”
“How do you figure that?” Detective Hilton asked.
“Based on the King’s body shape and subtle signs, we can approximate his age of mid-forties to early fifties,” Barry said. “The woman was mentioned in witness statements of being in her forties, while the other two gang members are early twenties. Only family would stay together for this long despite age gaps and the obvious aggressive tendencies of the Ace. You’re looking for a family of four: dad, mom, and two sons, the oldest of which graduated or almost graduated from Larchmont High School.”
“Quentin said it before, but I’ll say it again: you’re brilliant, kid,” Detective Hilton said, looking stunned. “You sure you don’t want to move out to Starling?”
“My family’s in Central,” Barry said with an apologetic smile. “I went to school out here, and Starling’s great, but Central’s home.”
Despite everything she looked through, she still didn’t manage to find anything else on their suspects. The witness statements as to the woman’s appearance were conflicting, and even looking through school records from Larchmont High provided too many possibilities.
Oliver picked her up for dinner at five, dressed to the nines.
“What’s with the suit?” she asked, eyebrows raised as she packed up her things. “Hot date tonight?”
“You could say that,” Oliver said. “We are going out to dinner.”
“We are?” Barry asked.
“We are,” Oliver confirmed. He pulled his hand from behind the doorframe to reveal a garment bag. He held it out to her. “Mom picked it out.”
Barry took it hesitantly.
“Any particular reason we’re going out?”
“Mom insisted,” Oliver said. “Honestly, Bare, when’s the last time you dressed up and went out to a nice restaurant? Actually, when’s the last time you went out to eat at all without worrying about Livvy the entire time?”
Barry opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“That’s what I thought,” Oliver said. “Besides, you know Mom likes dressing you up.”
He handed her the garment bag and a smaller bag that she presumed held her shoes.
“Go change,” he ordered. “I can log off of your computer for you.”
“That’s against protocol,” Barry argued weakly.
“You don’t want to make us late for our reservations,” Oliver pointed out.
“Fine,” Barry said, stomping off to the bathroom.
The dress was gorgeous, like everything Moira picked out for her. She took one glance at the tag on the dress – Dolce & Gabbana – and the shoes – Christian Louboutin – and decided she didn’t want to know the price of either item, and it would be best to just go with it. Moira had helpfully provided a small makeup kit and a hairbrush in the bag with the shoes, so Barry undid her hair from the messy bun she’d put it up in, brushed her hair out, and touched up her makeup until she looked good enough for a night on the town with a billionaire.
Dinner ended up being at a ridiculously expensive restaurant, but as soon as she and Oliver walked in, they were whisked away to a table. Oliver ordered the wine in fluent French, before Barry could remind him that she was technically still on the clock and couldn’t drink.
He gave her a dubious look.
“You dated Sara. Sara. Sara Lance, who could chug an entire bottle of vodka and still not be drunk. I know you’re no lightweight. A glass of wine won’t hurt.”
Barry had to concede that point.
The meal had a ridiculous number of courses, and by the end, Barry wasn’t sure she could get up from the table.
“Thank you, Oliver,” she said as he escorted her to the car. His bodyguard had already opened the door. “This was lovely.”
“Anything for an old friend,” he said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her cheek as he helped her into the car.
“Where to, sir?” the bodyguard asked as he got into the driver’s seat.
“Back home, Dig,” Oliver instructed. “Barry’s staying with us while she’s in town for work.”
“May I ask what you do, ma’am?”
“I’m a forensic scientist with the Central City Police Department,” Barry offered. “I’m currently consulting with the Starling City Police Department on a case.”
“Barry’s an old friend from college,” Oliver told the man.
While Barry and Oliver were both extremely cautious about talking about Livvy with other people present, Oliver did not seem to hold the same qualms in talking about Thea.
“Iris is sleeping over at mine until I’m back,” Barry reassured. “And Joe’s checking in as well, so there won’t be any wild parties. Thea’s not like teenage you, Oliver.”
“That’s a relief,” Oliver said. “I would hate to have to deal with teenage-me. I was an ass.”
“Only sometimes,” Barry reassured, patting him on the shoulder.
Once they were inside, Oliver walked her up to her room.
“Thank you, Oliver,” Barry said with a smile. “You were right. It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to go somewhere without worrying about Livvy the entire time.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “Have a good night.”
“Good night.”
After staying up so late the previous night, getting up and ready in time for brunch with the Bowens was a trial. Still, Barry ended up downstairs, in a dress and heels, before the Bowens arrived. Oliver was not present. According the Raisa, she hadn’t seen him since early that morning.
“It’s so good to see you again, Moira. And who’s this? Not Thea, I don’t think?” Janice Bowen said.
“No, I’m just a family friend,” Barry said with an apologetic smile. “Moira offered to let me stay here while I’m in town for work. It’s always much nicer staying with friends than at a hotel.”
“I believe I remember you,” Carter Bowen said as he accepted a mimosa that Raisa was passing out. “Bartholomea Allen, wasn’t it? Oliver brought you as his date to galas a few times.”
“That’s right,” Barry said with a tight smile. She really hated her first name. “Oliver and I have been friends since college, and he did his best to convince me to accompany him any time Laurel was busy.”
“She always did an excellent job of keeping Oliver under control,” Moira said with a fond smile. “We stayed in touch, even when Oliver was gone.”
“Well, I’m sorry Walter couldn’t join us,” Janice said.
“Well, the Australian trip came up suddenly,” Moira apologized. “He sends his apologies.”
“And where’s Oliver?” Carter asked. “He’s not out of town too, is he?”
“Well, I’m sure he’s just…” Moira began, but Oliver entered the room at that moment.
“Stuck in traffic,” he said. “One of the things I didn’t miss on the island: Sunday drivers. Sorry I’m late,” he apologized, leaning over to kiss his mother on the cheek.
He then leaned over to give Barry a quick hug.
“Thank God you’re here,” she whispered, before turning back to the Bowens with a smile.
“So good to see you,” Janice said as she stepped forward to hug Oliver and kiss his cheek. “We all thought you were…”
“Oh, well, we are just happy he’s home,” Moira interrupted, rubbing Oliver’s back.
“A returning celebrity too,” Carter said as he reached out to shake Oliver’s hand.
“How do you mean?” Oliver asked.
“Billionaire scion? Castaway for five years?” Carter pointed out as they all took their seats at the table. “You know, there is a bidding war for the rights to your life story. At least, that’s what my agent says.”
“Agent?” Oliver questioned. “I thought you were a neurosurgeon, Carter.”
“I know, it’s crazy, right?” Carter said. “One minute I’m publishing this book on how long-term potentiation initiates the creation of a slow-moving protein synthesis, and the next, there’s an agent trying to make me the next Dr. Oz.”
“Why would he want you to be a wizard?” Oliver asked in confusion.
The whole table started chuckling.
“Oliver,” Moira said.
Barry reached over and patted his hand.
“For all our sakes, you should probably spending a bit more time on Wikipedia articles from the past five years.”
Oliver nodded in reluctant agreement.
“Well, truth is, I just feel it’s our duty as Starling City’s more fortunate to help those most in need,” Carter said pretentiously.
“Of course,” Moira said.
“Don’t you agree, Oliver?” Carter asked.
Barry could see how tight Oliver’s smile was.
“You’re the hero, Carter,” he said.
“So now that you’re back, what are your plans?” Janice asked. “Will you be taking a job with Queen Consolidated?”
“I’m opening a nightclub, actually,” Oliver said. “It’s a way to test myself in running a business on a small scale before I step into the business world for real.”
“Sir, your liquor distributor’s on the line,” Oliver’s bodyguard said as he stepped into the room. He leaned down to say something into Oliver’s ear, but Barry couldn’t make out what.
“Sorry,” Oliver said, pulling his napkin out of his lap and putting it on the table. He notably did not meet Moira’s steely look. “Business.” He got up and left the room.
“I’ll just check to make sure nothing’s wrong,” Moira said when Oliver didn’t come back a moment later.
Unfortunately, that meant that both of the Bowens now had their full attention on Barry.
“So what is it you do, Bartholomea, was it?” Janice asked.
“Barry, please, Mrs. Bowen,” Barry offered. “Bartholomea is such a long name. It was a horror to learn to spell in kindergarten.”
“I’m sure, dear, and it’s Janice,” Janice replied patronizingly.
“I work for the Central City Police Department as a forensic scientist,” Barry said. She took a sip of her mimosa.
“Barry was the youngest person to ever make senior technician in the Central City Police Department,” Moira said as she reentered the room.
Barry felt herself blush.
“It may not be glamourous, but I help solve crimes and make sure that the guilty go away while the innocent remain free,” she said. “We all have to help in our own way. Science was always my passion – my mother was a chemist, and my best friend’s father was a cop, so I combined the two.”
“Is Oliver not rejoining us?” Janice asked, sounding concerned.
“Unfortunately, one of the contractors for his nightclub is having major issues that required his presence to sort out,” Moira said with a sigh.
Barry groaned inwardly at the thought of sitting through more of this. Thankfully, her phone went off a few minutes later. She quickly checked her text messages.
“Excuse me,” she said, rising quickly from her seat. “I just got word that there’s a new crime scene. I need to head over right away.”
“I’ll ask my driver to take you,” Moira said immediately. “Do you need to change?”
Barry glanced down at her dress and heels and sighed.
“Probably,” she said. She looked over at the Bowens and said apologetically, “A dress and heels isn’t the best idea for a crime scene.”
“What crime are you investigating?” Carter asked.
“A series of bank robberies that began in Central three years ago,” Barry reported. “There’s just been another robbery. It was a pleasure meeting you, Janice, and good to see you again, Carter.”
“The pleasure was ours,” Carter said a bit too quickly.
Barry smiled and headed out of the room. She kissed her cell phone as she walked.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The only information at the new crime scene was that Starling City’s resident vigilante – known colloquially as ‘The Guy in the Green Hood’ or simply ‘The Hood’ – seemed to have taken exception to the bank robbers. His participation in the heist meant that the gang hadn’t gotten away with any money, though they themselves got away clean.
“All the hostages came out of the bank this time,” Barry explained to Detective Hilton. “I presume the Queen was the getaway driver.”
“Sorry, the ‘Queen’?” the detective asked.
“Well, the others are the King, the Ace, and the Jack, so the woman is the Queen,” Barry said absently. “Anyway, I’ll have to run some tests, see if we got any viable DNA, but I wouldn’t count on it. Having an entire SWAT team parade through here messed up a lot of my evidence.”
She spent the rest of the day up in the lab she was currently sharing with the local CSIs. She got a call from Oliver mid-afternoon.
“So, Tommy’s hosting a benefit gala for CNRI tonight,” Oliver said when she picked up. “Would you come as my plus-one?”
“Sounds like fun,” Barry said absently. “I assume your mother’s already planning on dressing me?”
“Yep.”
“Red again?”
“You look good in red,” Oliver said. “There’s a reason she always dresses you in red.”
“What time’s the gala?” she asked.
“Eight. I can pick you up at six from the station so that you have time to eat and get ready?” Oliver offered.
“Better make it five. Rush hour, remember?”
“Right. See you at five.”
“Five it is.”
Barry entered the benefit gala on Oliver’s arm. Her dress and shoes were both red, selected by Moira, and so ridiculously expensive that she honestly did not want to know the price. What she did know was that the velvet cocktail dress was by Oscar de la Renta, and the crystal-encrusted shoes were Jimmy Choos. Her drop earrings, thankfully, were simply borrowed from Moira’s extensive collection, though she was relatively certain she was wearing 24-karat gold and real rubies. Her hair was in an elegant coiffure fastened by a gold hairpin.
“I see my mom,” Oliver said quietly into her ear. He was dressed sharply in a black suit that probably cost more than her monthly salary, with a red tie the same shade as her dress. “Do you mind if I go talk to her? Alone? I need to apologize.”
“Yes, you do,” Barry allowed. “If it weren’t for the fact that I got called out of brunch shortly after you did, I’d expect a better apology than simply inviting me as your plus-one to the gala. So, I’ll go find Tommy and you can go grovel to Moira.”
She slipped her arm out of Oliver’s and made her way across the ballroom. She spotted Tommy making his way toward her.
“Good to see you, Barry,” he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “Thank you for coming. You look beautiful.”
“I’d say thank you for inviting me, but you didn’t, even though you knew I was in town,” she said, fake pouting. “I’m hurt, Tommy. Though thank you for the compliment.”
He let out a small laugh.
“I’m guessing Oliver brought you as his plus-one?”
“He owed me for leaving me alone at brunch with his mother and her friends,” Barry said.
“At least you dragged him here. I figured the entire Queen family and their checkbooks should be present, but you left Thea in Central City,” he said.
“So how is it going for you so far?” she asked.
“It is going amazing,” Tommy said honestly. “And it’s all thanks to you. Barry Allen, the unlikely voice of reason.”
“Compared to you and Oliver, I’ve always been the voice of reason,” Barry shot back. “But I have to ask: what did I do?”
“You gave me that great advice,” Tommy said with an honest smile. “I thought about what the girl was interested in, and um…” he stepped aside to reveal Laurel chatting with several other party-goers.
Barry smiled.
“I thought it was Laurel you were talking about,” she said, pleased that she’d been right. “You did this all for her.”
“And it’s working,” Tommy said. “Thanks again. Would you like to come say hi?”
Barry winced.
“Laurel…ah…might not be talking to me at the moment. I’m not sure if Oliver told you, but the day after the party, she found out about Livvy. And she said that she needed some time to think. I haven’t heard from her since,” Barry said.
“It’s been a couple weeks,” Tommy said. “And we’re in public. She’s not going to start yelling.”
“I suppose I can give it a try,” Barry said.
She allowed Tommy to lead her back over to where Laurel was now speaking with an unfortunately familiar face.
“Barry!” Laurel exclaimed. “It’s good to see you.” She seemed honest enough about that, at least. She leaned in to give Barry a quick hug. “I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve been so busy with work I keep forgetting.”
“I completely understand, Laurel,” Barry said. “I do the same thing.”
“Tommy, do you remember Carter Bowen from high school? Barry, I think you’ve met a couple of times at different events?”
“Oh yeah, sure I do,” Tommy said, shaking Carter’s hand. “So glad you could make it.”
“So great to see you,” Carter said, though he was obviously directing it toward Laurel. “You look amazing.” This time, his eyes also flickered toward Barry. “And Barry and I had brunch together at the Queens’ house yesterday. Until she had to leave, that is.”
“I got paged for work,” Barry explained to Laurel. “I’m consulting with the SCPD on the Royal Flush Gang robberies.”
“My dad mentioned that to me,” Laurel said with a nod.
Carter took over the conversation again, turning back to Laurel.
“I gotta say, I’m so impressed with the work you and CNRI are doing here,” he said.
Laurel smiled. “Thanks, Carter.”
“You know, I’ve actually been thinking about starting a free clinic down here in the Glades,” the man continued.
“Really?” Tommy asked.
“Maybe we could grab a couple drinks, and I’ll tell you what I’m thinking?” Carter asked Laurel.
“That sounds great,” she said, and allowed him to lead her over to the bar. She glanced back at Tommy and Barry, but that was it.
Barry watched Tommy grimace, and then noticed something over his shoulder. Oliver left through the front doors of the building, accompanied by his bodyguard.
“Well,” she said with a sigh, “it appears that Oliver has ditched me once again.”
“Do you want a drink?” Tommy asked. “I think I need one.”
“I can’t,” Barry sighed. “I’m still on call. Not supposed to have alcohol until this thing with the bank robbers is wrapped up.”
They ended up sitting over by the bar, watching as Carter and Laurel danced.
“Did you know, that as a doctor, I was able to diagnose myself as a giant tool?” Tommy said sarcastically before taking another sip of his drink.
Barry snorted before following suit, though all she had was a soda. She drained it and set the glass down on the bar before saying, “Since we’ve both been abandoned by our dates, why don’t we go dance?”
“I thought you had two left feet?” Tommy asked, even as he drained his glass as well and stood up, offering her a hand. “I distinctly remember my feet getting stepped on repeatedly the last time I danced with you.”
“First of all, we were all so drunk that we couldn’t see straight,” Barry pointed out. “Second of all, I’ve improved since then.”
Tommy ended up dancing with her through a song and a half before her phone went off with the specific vibration alarm that meant she was being paged by the SCPD.
She sighed and pulled out her phone from the gold clutch she’d borrowed from Moira.
“Duty calls,” she said.
“Do you need a lift, since your date ditched you?” Tommy asked. He glanced over to where Laurel was still dancing with Carter. “There’s nothing here I still need to take care of.”
“Thank you, Tommy,” Barry said with a smile.
They both grabbed their coats from the valet – Barry’s was a red tulle Oscar de la Renta to match her dress – and Barry’s kit, before heading out the side door. They’d made it about halfway down the alleyway where Tommy had parked his car when they heard the door close and heels came clicking behind them.
“Tommy? Barry?” Laurel called. “Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, just taking Barry to work,” Tommy said. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. You can go back inside, keep having fun. Looked like you were having a nice little do-si-do with the good doctor.”
Laurel raised an eyebrow.
“Tommy, I’m going to let you in on a little-known secret about Dr. Carter Bowen: the man is a gigantic ass.”
Barry muffled a laugh. This looked like the ‘moment’ with Laurel that Tommy had been waiting for.
“And the only reason I danced with him is because he just wrote a massive check to CNRI,” Laurel continued. “Why would you think anything else?”
“I guess when it comes to you, I tend not to think straight,” Tommy said.
“I think I’ll just go call a cab,” Barry said, starting to move out of the alleyway.
“Absolutely not,” Tommy said firmly. “I said I was taking you to your crime scene, I will take you to your crime scene.”
He opened up his passenger door for Barry to get in.
“Sorry for interrupting your moment,” she said.
“It’s no problem,” Laurel said. “I know how the job is.”
Tommy and Laurel walked to the front of the car. Barry could barely hear them through the crack in the window.
“Hey Tommy,” Laurel said. “I owe you a dance.”
“Yeah?” Tommy asked.
“You earned it,” Laurel replied, before leaning over and kissing his cheek.
Tommy still looked like he was floating when he made it into the driver’s seat and started the car.
“Are you sure you’re safe to drive like this?” Barry asked dubiously.
Tommy very obviously shook himself out.
“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Where do you need to go?”
“Redwood United Bank, wherever that is.”
“Well, thankfully, I have GPS,” Tommy replied.
Redwood United Bank turned out to be only fifteen minutes away from the benefit.
“Do you want me to stay?” Tommy asked as Barry climbed out of the car.
“No, but thank you, Tommy. Go back to the party. I’ll call a cab or something back to Queen Mansion. Go. Dance with Laurel. If you want to talk about it afterwards and don’t want to do it to Oliver, call me.”
“You’re a great friend, Barry Allen,” Tommy said.
“So are you, Tommy Merlyn,” Barry replied as she grabbed her kit and closed the door. She didn’t look back as she walked to the doors of the bank, flashing her ID to get her into the crime scene. The officers guarding gave her dubious looks thanks to her eveningwear.
All the members of the police force in the bank looked up as her heels clicked on the stone floors.
“Did we interrupt a date, Allen?” Detective Hilton asked.
“I was at the benefit gala for CNRI, actually,” Barry said as she set her kit on the counter and opened it up. “I’ve known Laurel Lance, Tommy Merlyn, and Oliver Queen since college. Oliver invited me as his plus one.”
The scene was relatively straightforward, especially since they’d already caught all the culprits. The King had been shot and killed by the bank security guard, who had actually been aiming at the Ace. The Ace had been knocked out by the vigilante. The Queen and Jack had been caught in the getaway car nearby.
Still, the inclusion of the vigilante added several loops of red tape to everything. It took hours to go through all the evidence and get it bagged and tagged to go back to the station.
Once she was dismissed, she called up the phone for the staff at Queen Mansion; there was always someone on duty, and that someone could tell her if anyone was available to come get her, or if she should take a cab.
“Mr. Oliver and Mrs. Queen are not here, Miss Allen,” the man on duty said. “They left about an hour ago.”
“Thank you, Christian,” Barry said. “Have a good night.”
“You too, ma’am.”
She called Oliver next.
“I am so sorry for ditching you,” Oliver opened with.
“You should be,” Barry replied promptly. “You and your mom still out?”
“Yeah. I took her to the Big Belly Burger down in the Glades. Best burgers in the city. We were about to head home.”
“Could you swing by Redwood United Bank and pick me up? And bring me some food?” Barry asked. “I just finished at the crime scene.”
Oliver was silent for a moment.
“Mom says that your dress better be intact.”
“It is, don’t worry,” Barry said with a laugh. “Pick-up?”
“And food,” Oliver confirmed. “What would you like?”
Barry rattled off her usual order for BBB, and Oliver promised they’d be by to get her within twenty minutes.
It only took fifteen before they were on the way back to the mansion.
“Are you headed back to Central tomorrow?” Moira asked from the passenger seat.
“Probably tomorrow night,” Barry admitted from behind her. “There’s still going to be paperwork to finish, but I want to get back to Livvy as soon as possible.”
“Completely understandable,” Moira said as they pulled into the driveway of Queen Mansion. “I’ll see you in the morning then, to say goodbye?”
“Of course,” Barry confirmed.
Moira got out of the car and went straight inside. Barry could hear her heels clicking on the stairs as she went up to her room.
“It was good seeing you again, while you were here,” Oliver said quietly as they left the car and wandered into the house. They ended up in the parlor.
“Even though you ditched me at the gala?”
“Even though I ditched you at the gala,” Oliver repeated. “I’m so sorry, something came up that I had to take care of immediately.”
“You didn’t tell me goodbye,” Barry pointed out in annoyance. “You never even danced with me. I had to dance with Tommy.”
“I thought he would have been dancing with Laurel?” Oliver asked in confusion.
“She was dancing with contributors to CNRI,” Barry replied, even as Oliver moved over to the speaker system on one side of the room. “What are you doing?”
Oliver pressed a button, and orchestral music started playing.
“I think I owe you a dance,” he replied. He held out his hand to her.
Barry hesitated, then took it. They assumed the proper positions almost automatically – Barry’s left hand on Oliver’s shoulder, his right arm on her back – and he began to lead her through the waltz. Two songs later, and they were essentially just swaying back and forth to the music. Barry laughed as Oliver led her into a spin.
When their bodies were pressed close to one another once more, without thinking, Barry leaned in and pressed her lips to Oliver’s in a chaste kiss. It was extremely brief – she doubted Oliver even registered it before it was done. As she pulled away, Oliver followed her and brought his lips to hers once more.
The kiss was just as short and chaste, but it had a clear meaning.
They broke apart, and Barry ducked her head.
“Good night, Oliver,” she said quietly.
“Good night, Barry,” he replied in a low voice. She glanced up to see him staring at her with an unreadable expression.
He was already gone by the time she got up the next morning. Barry simply sighed, had breakfast with Moira, and went into the SCPD station to finish the paperwork for the Royal Flush Gang before boarding a plane back to Central.
Livvy’s enthusiastic, “Mommy!” when she, Thea, Joe, and Iris met her at the airport was the best part of her week.