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Iris walked up to Barry’s lab just in time to see her father leaving. The wide smile he’d been sharing with Barry faded as he caught her eye. She raised her eyebrows and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and turned back to Barry.
“Oh, and Barry. The last thing I wanted to mention – that I certainly hadn’t forgotten – is that Iris asked me to remind you to call her.” Iris rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at her father.
“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” She squeezed his arm as he walked out chuckling. “And you!” Iris turned to Barry as his smile already turned apologetic. “Do I have to start stalking you in order to make sure I get to spend time with you?”
Barry shook his head smiling. “I’m sorry.”
“I haven’t seen or talked to you since forever!”
“Sunday,” Barry corrected her laughingly. “It’s pronounced Sunday, Iris.”
“Well, that’s almost a week,” Iris responded with a pout. “I feel neglected. “ She had moved close enough to him to pick at his collar and Barry swallowed hard and felt goose bumps break out, increasingly aware of how close her fingers were to his neck.
She stepped back and smiled at him. “Ugh! It was so much easier when you lived with us still!”
Barry smiled back and took a second to let his pulse slow again before speaking in a voice he hoped wasn’t as shaky as it felt. “Not this again,” he jokingly groaned.
“I don’t understand why you moved out in the first place,” Iris sniffed. “We never had to make plans to see each other when you were just a few doors down.”
“I see you practically everyday anyway,” Barry reminded her with a smile.
“I know, but it’s not the same as when we could just have dinner whenever we wanted.”
“I also come over every Sunday for dinner with you and Joe.”
“I know but – ”
“And I come over every time you have a paper due and need someone to help you stay awake to write it because apparently being 80 percent coffee isn’t quite enough to make all-nighters any easier.”
“You know you miss me.”
“Well you’re the one spending all your time with Detective Pretty Boy,” Barry smirked and folded his arms even as he stung himself with the truth of his words and felt the familiar pang of jealousy seep in at the mention of Eddie.
“OK, fine. I miss you.” She grinned when she said it, but Barry could see that she looked genuinely wistful. Almost imperceptibly, Barry’s eyes went sad. What Iris was feeling was guilt, and he knew it. And he hated himself for causing it because he should have known better. She had always been like this.
Iris prided herself on her intuition – jokingly called it her superpower – but Barry knew better than anyone that superpowers were also often a person’s biggest weakness. Iris’ empathy, as beautiful as it could be, could also be toxic for her, especially when it came to him and Joe. Everything she felt for herself had always paled in comparison to what she felt through them.
Iris had been too young when her mother had left her and her father, so she couldn’t understand the complexities of divorce and being too young and stifling expectations and regret. She knew her mother had followed her dream of becoming a photographer for a nature magazine and had traveled across the world, taking pictures of everything from glaciers to jungles. She knew her mother was happy, and she and her father had been heartbroken. So all she understood was that putting your own happiness first meant that your family suffered. And for a young girl blessed and cursed with an already preternatural desire to care for other people, that lesson shaped her on a fundamental level. She learned to fetishize self-sacrifice before she even learned what it meant. And then when Barry came to live with them, she got another outlet for her caretaking, and her happiness became inextricably linked with the happiness of Barry and her father.
And then fourteen years later, here they all were. They had all done it. They were all to blame. Somewhere along the line, they had let her become – for better or for worse – the woman in both of their lives. And sometimes it stopped her from having her own.
She seemed to really like Eddie – more than Barry had seen her like someone in a long time. But it had already caused tension in her relationship with her father and now it was costing her time with Barry, and that combination was more than enough for Iris’ tendency to self-sabotage to kick in. And as much as he wouldn’t be pained to see Eddie go, he would be devastated to be the reason Iris hurt. So instead, he took a deep breath.
“Well, how about a movie night? Tonight. You, me, and Eddie.”
Barry knew he’d said just the right thing when Iris’ face lit up. “Really?” she asked brightly.
“Yeah. You guys have been spending time together pretty regularly now. It’s time I made sure he was good enough for you.” Barry winked at her and smiled.
“Thanks, Barry.” She said genuinely. “I would love that. I just have to make sure Eddie’s free – ”
“Free when?” Eddie breezed as he walked into the lab. “Hey Barry,” he gave a small wave and Barry waved back awkwardly.
“Tonight,” Iris said with a smile. “Barry is inviting us over for a movie night. Please say you can come? It’s a total tradition with me and Barry, and I really want you to be a part of it.”
Iris looked up pleadingly at Eddie and Barry felt mildly sick to his stomach and then looked down at his lab paperwork, suddenly convinced he had done something wrong – forgotten to carry a two – and that error had to be fixed that very moment or something horrible would happen. He stared at the paper so hard he actually wondered if it was possible to will a mathematical error into existence simply by wanting it so badly.
“Of course,” Eddie said simply. “Thanks, Barry. I’m in. What should I bring?”
Iris and Barry looked at each other with a shared laugh. “It depends,” Iris began.
They immediately held out their fists and played a quick game of rock, paper, scissors, silently agreeing on best two out of three. Barry won two quick games in a row and Iris groaned and his face spread into a huge grin.
“Brownies,” they respond in unison. Off Eddie’s bewildered look Barry continued.
“Whoever wins gets to pick the movie, but the other person gets to pick the snacks.”
“It’s a system honed after years of complaining about each other’s movie picks. Trust me, it works.” Iris smiled. “Besides you’re not going to be able to sit through Barry’s weird, sci-fi pick without a serious sugar rush.”
“I actually love sci-fi,” Eddie responded with a smile.
“I fought on the wrong side,” Iris deadpanned in response.
Barry cheated. He hadn’t been able to leave work early as he planned, so he got home four minutes before Iris and Eddie arrived and used his speed to clean up his apartment and whip up a batch of Iris’ favorite recipe for brownies.
“I love you!” Iris insisted happily as she walked in and smelled the batter baking. “Milk chocolate?”
“Of course,” Barry responded with a smile and then recited, “With chocolate chips and walnuts but not too many of either.” Iris threw her arms around Barry and Barry closed his eyes and allowed himself to smell her hair while she hugged him. When she pulled back he handed her the spoon, which she happily took.
“You’re the best! Eddie wouldn’t let me even see what he baked the whole cab ride over here.”
“Well I wanted it to be a surprise,” Eddie said and then presented his offering proudly.
Iris took the Tupperware container and peeked in. She made a face that she immediately tried to school into a more diplomatic expression before speaking. “What did you make, honey?” She asked Eddie who immediately shifted uncomfortably.
“Blondies,” Eddie replied with quickly fading confidence. “They’re…like brownies just without the chocolate.” Eddie eyed Iris’ face, which was registering an urge to say something she was clearly fighting.
“Uh-oh,” Barry intoned with a sympathetic smile to Eddie. He handed Eddie a glass of wine and turned to hand one to Iris as well.
“You don’t like blondies?” Eddie asked and looked to Barry for backup.
“They’re fine. They’re great, honey. They’re just –” Iris looked helpless and Barry shook his head chuckling.
“Just do it. You know you want to.” He leaned back and had a sip of his own wine as he watched all of Iris’ resolve break.
“They’re not brownies! Blondies are not brownies! And people always say ‘oh, they’re like chocolate-free brownies!’ Or ‘they’re like a mix between cookies and brownies’ and they’re just not! They are they’re own thing. And that’s fine! They can be their own thing! But they need to stop trying to pass themselves off as brownies!”
Barry turned to Eddie. “Don’t take it personally. This is an obsession of hers.” The timer buzzed and he pulled the brownies out to cool.
“It’s not an obsession.” Iris muttered calming down and rubbing Eddie’s arm. “And it’s not your fault, sweetie. You would have no way of knowing that – ”
“Your girlfriend is a psychopath?” Barry smiled mischievously earning a slap on the arm from Iris. “Seriously. I need you to care less about this,” Barry responded dryly.
“Oh, like you’re one to talk, Barry. Who called me every night at 1 a.m. for two weeks straight after the opening of the new Star Trek movie to complain about the fact that Uhura and Kirk were supposed to be a couple not Uhura and Spock?”
“That’s a cultural touchstone! This is dessert.”
“It’s the principle!” Iris continued. “It’s just like Dr. Pepper.”
Barry gave a gut laugh at that and looked at her curiously. “OK. But for the record, nothing we’re talking about is like Dr. Pepper.”
“No but it is,” Iris continued as she began pulling plates from the cabinets and loading the blondies onto plates and cutting the still-warm brownies. “Because you go to a restaurant and order a Diet Coke and they’ll say ‘oh, we have Diet Pepsi.’ Or you’ll order a Sprite and they’ll say ‘we have Sierra Mist.’ And that makes sense. But you order a Dr. Pepper and they’ll say ‘um, we have root beer.’ What!? I mean, I like root beer fine. But root beer is not like Dr. Pepper. Just because they’re both not cola or lemon-lime doesn’t make them substitutes for each other, you know?”
“I think I speak for both me and Eddie when I say, no. We have no idea.” Barry gave a laugh and Iris lunged at him to grab him but he managed to dodge out of the way and out of the kitchen. Iris chased him laughing.
“You think you’re fast, Barry Allen, but you are no match for me!”
Eddie watched them run out of the kitchen laughing. He took another sip of wine. “I think I get it,” he said so quietly that Iris almost didn’t hear him over her laughter. “It’s like anytime you want one thing. But it’s not available – ” his eyes lingered on Barry for a moment – “for whatever reason. So you get something else. And it’s fine. Root beer is fine. So are blondies. But they’re just not what you really want. And that’s made more obvious by the – “ he cleared his throat – “by the comparison.”
Iris stopped laughing and her eyes focused on Eddie who seemed weirdly serious in that moment. He gave a small smile and she threw her head back and laughed. “Exactly!” Iris ran over to hug Eddie happily. “See? You totally get me.” Iris smiled and nodded her head at Eddie and looked at Barry triumphantly. Barry smiled back and raised his glass to Eddie.
“You get her,” Barry echoed softly. He looked sad for a moment before giving a sly smile and continuing. “My sympathies.”
Eddie’s response was inaudible because Iris chose that moment to run back after an unsuspecting Barry who retreated into the living room, but if they had been listening they would have heard Eddie murmur, “no. I don’t think I do get her.”