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Jay Garrick has battled monsters in his day. He has faced the embodiment of the god of speed and found out it was an embittered time remnant of one of his dear friends. He has willingly consigned himself to a prison in the heart of the beloved—but terrifying—source of his powers. He has felt those powers falter and fail. And somehow, none of that quite compares to the courage it takes to ask Joan Williams on a date.
Joan is an incredible woman—odd, to be sure, but brilliant. More than that, her heart is beyond compare. Jay knows she’s fond of him; it’s unmistakable in the warm way she treats him, less as a colleague than as a friend. Fondness is a long way from seeing him as a potential partner, though. Surely she knows she could do better than an aging speedster.
Then Jay notices the way she blushes when he makes her laugh. It’s subtle, the barest pinkening of her cheeks and flitting of her eyes to elsewhere in the room—but it’s enough. Maybe, just maybe, she sees him as…potential. Something more than a colleague. At the very least, she’s worth the risk.
“I’d like to take you to dinner one night,” he offers as he gets ready to leave her office. It’s the only time he could possibly work up the nerve to ask. At least now, if she rejects him, he can leave, take the night to process the rejection, and return tomorrow determined to be professional. She deserves that respect from him. “I know it would be inappropriate for a patient to ask that of their doctor, but I feel that, by now, we’re more like colleagues than doctor and patient.”
Joan’s eyes widen. One of her slender, clever hands flies up to play with an errant curl. Hardly the action of someone who’s displeased, Jay dares to think. He might even chance the thought that she’s excited. “I’m inclined to agree,” she says, smiling. “If you had asked me at first, I’d have said no. But now…you scarcely need me—you could, in theory, do this research on your own. Colleagues. That’s, yes, the way I’d put it. I’ve been…” She ducks her head. “I’ve been hoping you asked me to stay because you liked my company.”
“Very much,” Jay hurries to assure her. “Your support has been everything I could have asked for—and no, I don’t mean as a doctor. As a researcher, yes…but more than that, as a friend. And, I’m hoping, as…something more, maybe.”
Joan steps closer. One of her hands extends, curls back…and then extends again, reaching for Jay’s cheek. He stays perfectly still and lets her touch on her own time. The warmth of her fingers against his cheek is everything he could have hoped. Her eyes stay fixed raptly on his cheek, as though she can’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes.
“I would like that very much,” she murmurs. “Name the time and place.”
And so, the next day after work, Jay leads the way to a bustling family-owned restaurant. Given his sedate pace, the walk there becomes act one of the date; they talk about everything and nothing, enjoying the mild autumn breeze and golden evening light.
When they arrive at the restaurant, Jay pulls Joan’s chair out for her just as she does the same for him. For the space of a heartbeat, they gaze at each other in confusion. Jay breaks the awkwardness by laughing and rounding the table to sit. “What is it they say about great minds?”
Joan takes her seat, blushing and chuckling. “As long as I haven’t been discourteous,” she checks, eyes flicking up to meet his.
“Of course not.” Jay settles his cane against the table with a faint click of metal on wood; then he scoots his chair in. “Maybe another man might think differently, but I don’t mind.”
They order glasses of water. Jay suggests ordering a bottle of wine, but Joan shakes her head. “I don’t drink—I never could quite adjust to the taste of alcohol. I’ve had so many people call me dull…”
“Well, then, I’ll call you wise, instead,” Jay assures her once the waitress is gone. “I’ve seen too many first dates end poorly because of alcohol. You’re right, we should keep our heads clear. Now.” He turns his attention to the menu and suggests, “I don’t know if you’re in the mood for a suggestion, but my go-to choice is always the brisket.”
Joan smiles up at him. “You’re in luck, I am in the mood for suggestions. The brisket sounds wonderful.”
While they eat, Jay asks her everything he’s wanted to know but has worried would be improper to ask a colleague: about her favorite places to travel, her funniest childhood memories, her hobbies. She treats him to a wonderful story about taking part in a study on emotional dysregulation in ADHD that leads into a heartbreaking half-hour ramble about the challenges of being a prominent scientist and still being patronized for having ADHD.
“That puts the way you treat me in a new light.” Jay taps the top of his cane as he speaks. “It’s so frustrating to see the way people treat me now, as opposed to two years ago, when the only thing that’s changed is this. But I’ve never once thought that of you, and now I get why. You know what it’s like not to be taken seriously.”
Joan sighs. “Yeah, I do. I never want you to feel like you have no agency, Jay. Your needs may have changed, but you’re still a kind, brilliant, attractive man…” Her hand flies to her mouth. From behind her fingers, she murmurs, “That was too soon, wasn’t it?”
“Calling me attractive, you mean?” Jay chuckles. She’s been so earnest that he ought to respond in kind and reassure her that she’s wonderful and beautiful. That might be too much for her to hear when she already feels self-conscious, though. Instead, he teases, “No, please, I haven’t heard that in a very long time, tell me more.”
She gives a relieved laugh and rocks side to side. “Maybe if we have a second date. For now, we ought to go—I’m sure we’ve taken up this table long enough.”
“You’re right, of course.” Jay fishes out his wallet. His instinct is to take care of everything, but he doesn’t want Joan to feel like he’s trying to put her in his debt. “If I take care of the bill, would you be willing to leave the tip?”
“Of course.” Joan lays her hand over his briefly and squeezes. “Thank you for asking, and not assuming.”
They carry out their plan and slowly make their way out of the restaurant. They walk back home as slowly as they walked to the restaurant. By now, the sun is fully setting; the road is bathed in gold and the sky flames scarlet. Joan gets lost watching the sky; Jay gets lost watching her.
“You don’t lose your wonder at the world,” he murmurs. It’s hard to say the same of himself when every step has begun to cost more and more energy. As beautiful as this evening is, and as exquisite as it is to spend time with Joan, he wants to be home and done with the discomfort of walking. “That’s part of what makes you such an incredible scientist…and such a captivating date.”
Joan ducks her head and chuckles softly. “You’re good to me, Jay. I want to do this again with you…and again, and again.”
“I’d like that a lot.” He squeezes her hand. “And…that’s why I have to ask you to make your own way home from here. My mood is waning with the light, and I don’t want to end such a lovely night on a sour note.”
Joan pauses and peers at his face. The light reflects off her glasses and makes it hard to read her expression. Jay can nonetheless tell her decision from the way she leans in.
As first kisses go, this might be the best Jay has ever had. Joan is warm and soft, but by no means pliant; she takes what she wants from the kiss just as much as he does. Jay hates to break apart from her. When the kiss ends, he spends a moment simply leaning into her, enjoying her presence.
“Good night,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“Yes,” she agrees, and sets off into the sunset. “Good night.”
Jay waits until she’s out of sight. Then he sets off at a much slower pace for home.