#i gave up halfway through. bon appétit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leejungchans · 3 years

Text

— delicacy.

juliet’s masterlist

note: words in bold are spoken in english

set in late april, 2021

summary: in which juliet makes lets dino try an australian delicacy for the first time.

a/n: idk where this idea came from but i’m not regretting it one bit bc i think this came out pretty cute 👉👈 also this gif 💔 god i’m not your strongest soldier

“Wait, how many of them are home?”

Juliet’s hand, outstretched and holding the key to their dorms, pauses as she turns to look at Chan, noting how he has gotten even more nervous since they got into the elevator.

“Not all, some of them are still at the company,” she reassures. With her free hand, she reaches for one of his, though it’s not easy with the bags of takeout he’s holding. “Besides, you’re our senior! If anyone should be nervous, it’s them,” she jokes.

“Wrong,” Chan says sulkily as she turns away briefly to unlock the front door. “When we’re at work, then maybe. But now I’m your boyfriend, not their senior, so it’s different.”

“You’re right,” Juliet agrees, as they step in and remove their shoes. She looks around the common space to find it empty. “But they like you a lot already, so there’s no need to worry. See? No one’s here—”

As if on cue, they hear one of the bedroom doors open, and Yunho walks into the living room seconds later. “Oh, hi!” he says cheerfully when he sees Juliet and Chan by the front door. “Just make yourself at home!”

“Where are you going?” Juliet asks, setting the takeout bags on the kitchen counter while she watches him put on his sneakers. Next to her, Chan takes off his mask before washing his hands at the sink.

“They sent me to go get food.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“Yeosangie, Wooyoungie and Jongho.”

“Why not just choose the delivery option?”

Yunho smiles bashfully. “Because we’re idiots and forgot.”

This earns a small snort from Juliet. “Okay, fair enough. Be safe!” she calls out as Yunho heads out with a wave. She turns back to Chan with a grin. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“Yeah... just seven more to go. Then again, you had to meet all twelve of them at once,” he says with a small smile, referring to his own members. “So it can’t be worse than that.”

“That’s the spirit!” she cheers, beaming at him before she grabs the bags and moves them to the dining table.

Juliet is in the middle of laying out all the takeout boxes when she hears him ask, “Uh... what’s this?”

She turns around to see Chan fiddling with the iconic yellow jar as he attempts to read the English labels. “Vegemite. Have you had it before?”

“It’s the Australian spread, right?” Juliet nods. “I think I’ve seen it before when we were on tour in Australia years ago, but I didn’t try it.”

“Do you want to?”

What was Chan supposed to do? Say no to those eyes? When they’re now ten times more sparkly?

He watches adoringly as she eagerly grabs two slices of bread from the counter and practically skips over to the toaster, popping the bread in before leaning over the machine in favour of glaring at it intensely.

“Is that gonna make them toast quicker?”

“Oh, shush,” she says, rolling her eyes at his teasing. “Come over and help me.”

“Help you... watch the toaster?” He’s already behind her despite the skepticism in his tone, arms wrapping securely around her waist and chin coming down to rest on her shoulder.

The two stand in comfortable silence for several moments as they continue to gaze at the machine. Nothing happens other than the smell of toasted bread beginning to waft through the air.

“Still think staring at it makes it work faster?”

Juliet makes a tiny humph sound. “This toaster is an exception.”

“Mhm, sure,” Chan mumbles against the fabric of her sweater, “whatever you say.”

She cranes her neck to throw him a halfhearted glare. “You can go get the butter from the fridge if you’re so impatient.”

“No, I like it here.”

“Then don’t—shit!” Juliet yelps, flinching in his hold when the toast suddenly pops up with a loud clunk. Her cheeks flush pink when Chan starts laughing, and she wriggles out of his arms to grab a butter knife. “Stop laughing at me!” she whines, throwing open the refrigerator doors in search of the butter.

“Sorry, you’re just adorable,” he says, putting the toast on a plate before following her to the dining table.

Juliet shakes her head in mock exasperation at him, spreading a thin layer of butter onto both slices before doing the same with the vegemite when at that exact moment, Yeosang and Wooyoung walk by them.

The former wrinkles his nose when he notices what she’s doing. “Your boyfriend comes over for the first time and you’re giving him... vegemite?” he teases.

“What is that supposed to mean, Kang Yeosang? Also, we’re obviously not having vegemite toast for dinner,” Juliet defends, gesturing to the food on the table. “We bought takeout. I’m just letting him try it.”

Wooyoung snorts. “Blink twice if you need help.”

Chan glances at Juliet, now slightly concerned. “Is it really that bad?”

Yeosang grabs a bottle of juice from the fridge and pours some into a cup. “It’s the only food in the house that no one other than her touches, and we literally eat everything else. Do what you will with that information.”

She gasps, scandalised. “Excuse me, Seonghwa-oppa said he likes it!”

“Trust me,” Wooyoung interjects playfully, “he wouldn’t be saying the same if any other one of us offered it to him. He only said it because it’s you.”

“Whatever, I’m not standing for this vegemite slander,” Juliet huffs, shooing the two boys away. “Enjoy having no taste.”

Wooyoung flicks her forehead lightly before pulling Yeosang along with him, nearly causing the older boy to spill his drink. “Have fun, lovebirds!” he yells over his shoulder. “But not too much fun!”

Juliet turns back to Chan with an unimpressed expression. “You see what I have to put up with?”

He grins in response. “Maknae struggles.”

“Maknae struggles,” she agrees, holding a piece of the toast to his lips. “Well, bon appétit.”

Somewhat warily, Chan takes a bite and proceeds to chew slowly, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar taste. Juliet peers at his expression in an attempt to gauge what he’s thinking.

He swallows. “It’s good.”

“Liar,” Juliet says affectionately. “You don’t like it, do you?”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, you got me. Not that it’s disgusting, it’s just... not bad... but not good.”

“You’re so cute,” she says, pinching his cheek gently. “You don’t have to finish it, by the way, I’ll eat it later after we finish our food.” Then she remembers something. “Wait, I have something for you in my room.”

“You can just grab it after dinner.”

But she’s already out of her seat and halfway down the hall. “No, I’ll forget later! I’ll be back in a few seconds!”

A few seconds turns into minutes as she rummages through her overflowing closet whilst grumbling to herself, the fact that she left Chan defenceless in the living room completely slipping her mind. She’s not a disorganised person, especially when it comes to her clothes and closet organisation, so she blames their hectic schedule for its current state.

Eventually, she finds his lavender hoodie squished between two of her own, and heads back to the dining room when she sees—

“Choi Jongho, what are you doing?”

He turns away from Chan to smile at her innocently, wholly unaffected by her narrowed eyes. “Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing.”

“Oh, would you look at the time,” Jongho says, looking down at the imaginary watch on his wrist. “I gotta go feed my pet fish. See you!” And with that, he disappears back into his room as quickly as he had appeared.

They don’t have a pet fish.

Sighing, Juliet sits back down next to Chan. “Sorry about that, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he reassures with a soft smile. “He was very sweet, though he did give me a friendly reminder to never hurt you. But I don’t mind, it just shows that he cares about you a lot.”

She returns the smile. “Yeah... he does. They all do. By the way, here’s the hoodie I borrowed from you last time,” she says, holding out the folded garment. “It’s washed and everything.”

Chan grins, setting it down on a spare chair. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to see it again when I gave it to you.”

“Excuse you, I’m not a thief! But... does this mean I can have it?”

a/n: okay so a few years ago i went on a study tour to australia and the host family my friend and i were staying with let us try some and we both thought it was pretty good ahjshwjs 🤩

i hope you guys like the fluff in this update bc this is the calm before the storm hehehe 👉👈 anyways gn besties lemme know what you think of this 🥺💗 thank you for reading and i hope you’re doing well!!

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split-n-splice · 4 years

Photo

Dr. D’s offered to make dinner before when she was angry so this isn’t OOC of him, nopenopenope I outta make a new header soon

[Chapter Guide]

8. Distance – 1

Dr. Drakken wasn’t ready to give her the satisfaction of elaborating on how she’d disrupted him, but some amends were in order for his outburst in the garage. Reward for delivering an entire fully-operational jet loaded to the brim with exclusive tech would have to come later when he could think of something better.

For now, he swallowed his pride, tossed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves.

He’d hit her. He couldn’t take back the fact, even if she’d laughed it off. He was lucky she hadn’t returned it on the spot, and she hadn’t exactly been shy to remind him so on the way up to the lab, feigning a punch that made him flinch before she burst out with mean laughter. If jets and towers and fame couldn’t please her, he doubted trivial favors like making her dinner would, but one had to start somewhere. It was all he could think of in a pinch at this time of night anyway.

While Shego took her sweet time with her post-mission shower, Dr. Drakken donned his apron and busied himself in the kitchen. He made note he’d have to stock it better, and soon, but he made do with what he had. It was pure luck he’d roughly planned out a meal in advance anyway when he’d gone shopping the other night for the ingredients needed for his devil’s food muffins.

Not a moment too soon, the superhuman thief dressed down to sweats and sweater strode into his living quarters without so much as a knock, as was the evening routine for her, and made a beeline for his couch with the intent of commandeering his television for the next while. He hastily tossed aside his splattered apron and couldn’t help throwing a nervous glance to the living room, paranoid he may have missed a scrap of evidence of his snooping.

Drakken cleared his throat to grab her attention before she could reach the couch. He caught her eye – she glared, he gulped – and she followed his glance and tiny nod to a plate of spaghetti he set down for her at the kitchen island. The fleeting thought crossed his mind that maybe it was time to invest in a regular dining table, but he pushed the thought aside before it could take root, the idea of dining with anyone regularly enough to need one ejected along with it.

The timer dinged behind him.

++X++

Shego cocked her brow at the man’s back as she approached cautiously, but he was busy slathering garlic-laced butter on crisped French bread.

She scrutinized the quick fixin’s on the platter before her. He needed work on his presentation, as the pasta was simply glopped on in a generous heap. But the smell was heavenly, she’d give him that. A glance to the empty cans and messy cutting board shoved aside on the counter indicated the sauce had been made from scratch, which left her just a little dubious. She hadn’t had spaghetti from scratch in more than four years. All the times she’d made the hasty dish for her family, the sauce had been premade from a can, and forget taking the time to shape meatballs. Furthermore, mushrooms and tomatoes had been banned from all meals to circumvent her baby brothers’ pickiness, and it was a relief not to see corn mixed with the noodles for a change. She’d be lying through her teeth if she said it didn’t make her mouth water.

Yet no matter how famished she was, she wasn’t gullible enough to tuck into the offering just like that. She stood a step back from the counter as the blue man turned with a hot slice of garlic bread balanced on a spatula to slip onto the edge of her untouched plate. He kept his eyes downcast while hers narrowed on him.

Shego broke first. “You cook?” she asked incredulously, although she was lured that much closer by the warm garlic bread.

“Occasionally,” mumbled Drakken without so much as a glance back at her as he served himself practically one noodle at a time. “It’s good to take a break from the lab sometimes.”

Sometimes. That was laughable. Once in a blue moon, maybe. Given how dusty his cookware had become, it was hard to believe he was the sort of man to know how to cook for himself at all. Come to think of it, she was a little surprised he hadn’t asked her to yet. It was a woman’s job after all, according her household, though she’d only done the chore because letting anyone else take over meant a bigger mess to clean or having her allowance cut.

As Shego watched the steam rise from the food, still straining to resist the temptation, she couldn’t help noticing another underlying smell hovering in the stagnant air over the permeating aroma of garlic and spice. It didn’t smell like it belonged in an evil man’s lair, but it backed up his claim nonetheless.

“No wonder it smells cakey in here,” she muttered with a light scoff. She didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing. The tips of his ears gave it away. No wonder he was stalling.

“Muffins, actually,” he more or less squeaked, and had to clear his throat. “I’m burned out on them, so help yourself. They’re in the fridge.” He spooned some pasta back into the pan, still hesitant to face her.

Shego perched on a barstool and poked at the food suspiciously with the fork he’d left her. She almost hoped it would poke back to distract her from the awkward vibe hovering in the air thicker than the warm aromas of her boss’s cooking. “Alright, chief,” she sighed. “You’re acting like a baby. Man up. What was with that tantrum back there?”

His back still to her as he hovered over the stove, Drakken paused with noodles halfway to his mouth. He almost looked back at her, but shook his head instead. “You should have called,” he stated, and quickly busied himself with chewing.

Shego shrugged and apologized dryly, “Sorry. I was busy.”

She slouched over the counter, pushing a meatball around with her fork. She studied her plate with growing apprehension, even as delicious as it looked. This was the first time she’d seen any indication of the man having culinary skills. He might have been stuffing his face with noodles from his own plate now, but so soon after his outburst in the garage, Shego couldn’t shake the distrust. This was all too convenient. She looked closely at the pasta, but if it was laced with anything special, she couldn’t tell it apart from the parmesan or seasonings.

She waited another moment until Dr. Drakken finally braved turning around to lean against the far counter, though he still kept his eyes deliberately down on his own plate. She studied him carefully for a reaction that could justify her misgivings as she asked bluntly, “This isn’t poisoned, is it?”

The sulky mad scientist grimaced and shot a quick frown up at her. “It’s dinner,” he clarified curtly. “Bon appétit.”

Shego wasn’t convinced. She hummed skeptically and beckoned him with a finger. The shifty man hesitated a moment before pulling up a stool to sit across from her like a civilized host, though he frowned in her direction as she twirled noodles around her fork.

Drakken lurched backwards when she held it up to him suddenly, nodding in silent answer when he stared back at her in questioning. He opened his mouth as if to argue that he wasn’t trying to poison her – but she took the opportunity to forcefully give him the first bite from her plate just in case. He almost spat it out in reflex, but must have thought better of it as she fixed him in a dangerous glare.

She waited until he’d swallowed before wiping her fork clean on a napkin and accepting the meal.

Offended, he snorted and grumbled half to himself, “My cooking isn’t that bad.”

“I get food poisoning just looking in your fridge,” she shot back under her breath. She didn’t trust the meatballs either. They could have easily been tampered with. For good measure, she rolled a few of his onto her plate in exchange for hers. The trade-off earned her a deep frown and an indignant huff, but he didn’t voice complaint as he grouchily ate his sauce-slathered meal. At least the garlic bread she could be confident about.

Shego took only a couple cautious bites before dropping her fork. She really couldn’t let him off the hook so easy. Not without a better apology than spaghetti, and not until he quit pouting.

“So. You threw a fit all because I didn’t check in like a good little girl. Is that it?” she shot over, flicking a glower up at him, but he continued to sheepishly avoid looking up. Shego mirrored his frown for a long moment before shrugging meekly to herself and shaking her head with exasperated sigh as she accepted the length of the metaphorical leash. If he had a leash on her at all, her little stint had proven she could yank it out of his hands whenever she wanted. “But you didn’t call to nag me, so…thanks for that.”

“I was tempted,” he admitted tersely, stabbing mercilessly at a meatball.

“And that’s fine. What matters is you didn’t.”

The man must have lost his appetite, because he set his fork down to chew instead on something verbal. “You had my car, so don’t sound so smug,” he groused, flashing a glare up at her at last. He folded his hands under his chin and frowned back down again. “You’re free to come and go as you please. If I have to beg and bribe for your alliance, then your heart wouldn’t be in it, and frankly I doubt you’d work as efficiently if I forced you to be here against your will. I’m sure you’ve had your fill of that anyway. I suppose you’ve been due for some freedom.”

It took Shego a moment to digest before quipping, “Are you talking to me, or your plate?” to which Dr. Drakken flicked his scowl up at her for a split second before his dark tired eyes darted away again. Nonetheless, she nodded and gave a small hum in agreement. The freedom she had now was more than her family and team had ever granted her. A villain shouldn’t have been the one to give her that though.

++X++

Another moment under her watchful stare, and Dr. Drakken finally lost his cool, the girl on the other side of the kitchen island recoiling back from him. All the grief his company’s absence had given him over the past few days resurfaced again, and for the first time in ages, there was someone besides himself to hear it.

“I missed you,” he blurted accusingly, and the slip tasted vile on his tongue. He slammed his fist on the counter in frustration. She’d gotten his goat, that was certain. He almost wished that would be enough to satisfy her, almost wished she would laugh and flip her hair and leave him to stew now – but instead she sat back and stared. Why he was compelled to answer that stare was beyond his understanding. “You had me so damn worried, Shego.” He clapped a hand over his mouth and bit his cheek.

The watchful superhuman before him offered nothing more than her jaded gaze and a listening ear. Drakken clammed up for a moment, shamefaced that he’d cracked. But she was waiting.

His hands flailed as he rambled in a rush to explain before he could think better of it. “I hardly know you,” he snapped at her. “How was I to know if you were really going to be come back, or if you’d just run off for good, or if you were backstabbing me? And when you didn’t call, I didn’t know if you’d been caught, and I was—hhnng!” He groaned. He was worried for what it spelled for him, sure, but he’d never been worried for anyone else before – at least not in a long while. And he had been worried for her, at least a little bit. That was as bad as missing the nuisance that loitered idly in his lab every day of the past two weeks.

Drakken hung his head and wanted to pull his hair out. He had to come up with a more professional way of dealing with this woman, because this just wouldn’t do. Henchmen were easy. Henchmen stayed down below, out of sight, out of mind, until he needed them.

Shego stared at him for a moment longer before tentatively offering, “I’m…sorry?”

The halfhearted apology made him snort. “No, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, still gripping his hair. Her quizzical stare was impossible to ignore, and he made the mistake of glancing up at it. He swallowed as something danced to life among his entrails. Something warm. It was almost sickening, and it certainly didn’t belong there after he’d sworn off it years ago. “I’ve given up on making friends, but I thought you – I mean – it just pissed me off, alright? I wasn’t sure if I’d been played for a fool or if I’d done something wrong – I-I shouldn’t have lost my temper – but you can’t blame me. You left me out of sorts.” Drakken clamped his mouth shut again before he could dig at himself any deeper. She had to be loving his suffering. Another glance up revealed that maybe he was wrong.

Shego shifted, her eyes dropping finally as she loaded pasta onto her slice of garlic bread. She smirked and gave a small laugh, quiet and unsure. “Your henchmen don’t count as friends?” she asked quizzically.

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Drakken sighed miserably. They were hired manpower. The henchmen palled around among each other. Not so much with him. They didn’t fill the social void by any means. Drakken frowned back down to his food with a shake of his head. “I don’t need lackeys who resent me. I merely try to stay on okay terms with them so they don’t quit, or worse – turn mutinous.”

“And you think I won’t?” Shego scoffed, not even trying to mask the note of amusement. It shouldn’t have stung. She hardly qualified as a friend anymore than the henchmen did.

“I should hope not,” Drakken grumbled. “This has all been quite the trying trust exercise, I’ll have you know. I’m not a trusting person, but risks I’ll take.”

Shego hummed and muttered, “Ditto.” It seemed she was ready to let the subject of how adversely she’d affected the blue loner blow over. She went back to eating quietly.

Her plate was half-cleared when she hummed again for his attention. “Hey, Doc?” He glanced up to see her waving her fork at him, but thankfully not to shove in his face again. “If you ever do amount some big-shot world-dictator, what’ll that make me? The number one receptionist in the world? ‘Cause I’ll tell ya what, that ain’t gonna fly. It’s gonna have to be something pretty good if you don’t want me to kick your butt off your high horse.”

Well, at least she was getting that out in the open now rather than surprising him later down the road.

His face went slack as he chewed slowly, giving it a moment of thought. He peeked up to her still watching him, waiting for a reply. It was a serious question, he realized, and maybe a serious threat of premeditated mutiny. If he was the subject of a long con, so be it. He’d cross that bridge when he got there.

For now, Drakken shrugged. “I suppose you would be a fearsome partner in crime,” he jibbed carefully. He flapped a hand as he threw out ideas, “I’d probably have you overseeing torture of defiant rebels, commanding armies of mass chaos, living in the lap of luxury in some penthouse somewhere – the works.” Her devious snicker was contagious, and he found himself smiling along with her.

There was that bloom in his gut again. He shut it down quick and poked at his food.

“Those are some pretty sweet lies, Dr. D,” noted his dinner guest, shaking her head though still smirking even as his faltered. “But this could be fun. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us if you’re going to make you any sort of king.”

“You bet we do,” he agreed, and popped an entire meatball in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to speak for a while.

Which, regrettably, he wound up choking on. He was given a heavy thump on the back and handed a glass of water. It was hard to be thankful when the fearsome partner in crime chortled at his plight. Heartless partner, more like. He found it impossible to look her in the eye again for some time after.

He couldn’t be sure if dinner was unnecessary in smoothing out whatever disruption he’d caused with the whole garage incident, but she seemed in a better mood than when she’d come skulking in at least. It could be justified anyway, since he was past due for decent meal, but just seeing her go for a second slice of garlic bread almost made it worthwhile. He wasn’t entirely convinced she’d forgiven him, though he hoped she had. He still wouldn’t put it past her to return the gesture eventually, only her strike was bound to hurt far worse than the brash swipe he’d taken at her.

Normally, Drakken avoided lingering in the living room when she was there, but her cagey glances had lessened, and she was flashing wry little smiles now, and sharing with him an account her little stint back in Go City. It was hard not to settle into his recliner while she tucked herself into a nearest corner of the couch to give her report. She promised she’d removed the license plates before leading police on a chase so they couldn’t trace it to him, and that was fine and all, but an offhanded mumble of praise when she bit into a glazed devil’s food muffin must have been the highlight of his evening. It was a close second to receiving a jet anyway.

When she fell asleep stretched across his couch ten minutes into a new episode of Space Passage, Drakken didn’t have it in him to wake her to make her go back to her own room like a decent human being. She’d just driven all the way to the opposite coast and hijacked a jet all on her own. She deserved some undisturbed rest. He suspected she’d get up after a catnap and mosey off anyway.

Come morning, Drakken had just about forgotten she’d crashed in front of the TV, which was still on, and his initial response was surprise and discomfort of finding someone asleep in his own apartment-esque personal living space. The shock subsided, and he was left with the confliction of realizing how inexplicably nice it was for her of all people to be the last person he saw before he went to bed and the first person when he rose. He supposed he might like the sight of any pretty girl crashing on his couch though, even if she was a little less than lovely with disheveled hair and rumpled grey sweats and sweater from last night.

Drakken pulled his robe tighter, wondering if he ought to change into something more respectable than fleece, but the next order of business on his daily agenda was a stronger pull. He set the coffee to brew and hurried back to his room to dress for good measure, finding himself standing in his closet for a minute too long before scoffing to himself for pausing to consider his appearance. His day was destined to be spent overseeing henchmen in the garage, so he grabbed anything that wouldn’t cost much to replace if ruined, even if it was less than professional. The impulse to stop in front of a mirror to wonder if a black crew-neck was too loose on him was resisted as he hurried out, stuffing his shirt into the waist of his trousers.

He didn’t mean to slam his bedroom door in his own aggravation, and he winced, eyes daring to the couch, and breathed a sigh of relief to find Shego hadn’t stirred.

While Drakken busied himself in the kitchen again, taking her into account and making extra flapjacks to err on the side of caution, he had to wonder if the snake asleep on his couch knew how alarmingly fast she was getting to him with wry smiles and little touches and snarky quips, or if she was only playing him to pass the time. He had to wonder as well if he’d ever shake the ingrained fear of the latter. Whatever the case, letting himself play right into her hands was not an option, especially not when her hands were dangerous.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as the young woman groggily sat up, groaning about bright lights. Her hair fell in a frazzled mess around her shoulders, face scrunched in displeasure to be awake. She didn’t seem nearly as surprised to be here as he’d been to find her. He tried not to glance her way as she leaned over the back of the couch for a while, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

By her glower, Drakken had to assume she was in a crabby mood. By now, that was decidedly pretty normal for her. “Good morning, sunshine,” he chimed wryly from the kitchen.

++X++

Growling out a curt, “Shaddup,” Shego flipped him the bird before hefting herself up from the soft corduroy cushions.

She slumped into the kitchen a moment later, drawn in by the smell of coffee, and had to stop herself from reaching for another muffin and grab the creamer instead. She couldn’t help noticing his fridge was actually immaculately clean for a change. She’d expected him to fill it with beakers of questionable contents again over her weekend absence.

Once she had her mug, she was ready to leave to nurse a headache in the privacy of her own bedroom, but the blue man tending the stove beside her slid a plate of pancakes over in front of her before she could go anywhere. She weighed the options of leaving it, taking it, or sticking around. She decided she’d spent too much time too close to Dr. Drakken already since last night – they’d chatted and watched television and laughed and that in itself was enough to make her shudder now – so she sheepishly took the offering and retreated to her room without so much as a thank you. She felt a little bad for it too, because they might have been the best damn blueberry pancakes she’d ever had.

As per usual, she would forget about the dirty plate on her dresser until the shame caught up to her and she’d sneak it all the way back to the kitchen, but that wouldn’t be today.

Today, she loitered in the garage with Drakken and his goons. The remaining henchmen were the ones he’d brought with him to Go City, the same three stooges she’d pummeled in the geek lab. Claiming they were his best had clearly been a shoddy attempt to talk them up. It was almost disappointing the young fellow she’d had her eye on was stationed elsewhere on guard duty, but she suspected it was by his own choice. Any of the subordinates taking a shine to her was explicitly frowned upon after all, but she decided she wasn’t missing out on much. She could save mingling with the guys for the next time she felt like getting Dr. Drakken out of sorts.

For the better half of the day, Shego took the opportunity to soak up the autumn sunlight spilling in from the gaping garage door, basking on the warm concrete with her arms folded behind her head. At one point, she heard a goon utter concerns to Drakken, and Drakken shouted irritably, asking if she’d fainted, then barked at her to quit lazing about. He was answered with an obstinate middle finger, and Shego smirked to herself when it was the henchmen to take the heat for it.

She only got up off the floor when he actually gave her something to do, even if it was a trivial gofer run.

At the grumpy man’s command, she grudgingly fetched his leather notebook from the kitchen, and idly flipped through it as she strode back across the hangar to Drakken. It was a fairly new pad, bound in leather, and there wasn’t much in it yet. Besides the notes on the power staves, her gloves, and a grocery list, she recognized a distinct feminine figure buried among jumbles of important-looking formulas that probably should have been jotted down somewhere better than a little pocket notepad.

She brandished the open book and teasingly cocked her brow at Dr. Drakken when he saw what page she was turned to. His face flushed that peculiar shade of purple again. Maybe she was pushing it when she held the notebook out of his reach and mockingly asked, “So the robo tits are cosmetic, huh?” There wasn’t much to ogle at in the chest department on the androids, but it was still an opportunity to mock.

The man echoed her in a stuffy nagging tone with curled lip, and tried again to take back his notebook. He didn’t justify his reasoning behind the bots’ chests, barely a step up from flat, but she supposed it would have been more off-putting if she didn’t know already that their entire exoskeletons were made of steel. She could worry for him when he started trying to manufacture synthetic flesh.

Shego snickered nonetheless, giving Dr. Drakken a moment of difficulty as she danced around him before he caught her arm and she surrendered the notepad.

She stepped back from the grumbling blushing man in favor of admiring the spoils of her treason. She scrutinized the beautiful family jet being meticulously dismantled just so Drakken could analyze its inner workings. Earlier, she’d tried explaining a little about it, but he’d brushed her off saying he wanted it to be a surprise. He was as giddy as a boy on Christmas enthralled by a new puzzle to solve, so she took it as no disrespect and decided to let him have his fun. She just hoped she hadn’t stolen the valuable plane for it to wind up a hunk of junk like all the others in his scrappy little warehouse.

She was about to ask what his plans with it even were when a small unfamiliar vibration low on her leg gave her a start. She stared dumbly down at her utility pouch for a second before snapping it open and digging out a compact wireless phone, the likes of which she swore she’d only seen Global Justice agents and other elite individuals use.

Curious glances were thrown her way, and she turned her back to them.

Up until yesterday, Dr. Drakken had been the only one with the number. He’d been the one to give it to her not long after moving in, proudly taking credit for the design until she’d called him a copycat. She of course had no one to ring up since they were a little too far out for pizza delivery, so she hadn’t had a reason to use it. She’d almost forgotten she’d stopped by a couple of acquaintances in Go City yesterday, one of which she’d mistakenly given the number to. The caller ID brought a smile to her face nonetheless, though she knew better than to hope the girl was calling for a friendly chat.

Shilo ran a hand over her face as she picked up, as if doing so would wipe away the mask of Shego.

“Alex, baby, talk to me,” she chirped, ignoring the pang in her chest at the longing for a familiar voice. She would never go as far as to call the former-classmate a friend, but the delinquent was a reliable dealer who knew how to keep her mouth shut if one had the cash. And Shilo had certainly had the cash when she’d paid Go City a visit. It was almost certain the girl was still looking to take advantage of that.

“Hey, hon,” sang the junkie, sounding peculiarly sober. Her voice quavered, a nervous tell. “How’s life on the lam treating you?”

Just like that, Shilo wasn’t so happy to hear the acquaintance. She tensed, drawing her conclusion fast. The miscreant was known for being as carefree and bold as could be. Nothing made that laidback gal anxious except for Shilo’s intimidating up-tight goody-two-shoes big brother Hugo who’d nearly ratted her out on several occasions.

She barely had it in her to put some pep back into her tone to disguise her suspicions, answering quickly, “It’s great.” She found herself fidgeting, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

Alex cut to the point, the absence of idle chitchat and musings raising another red flag. “I was thinking it would be cool if you could come hang out sometime,” she went on. “Or maybe we could – I could take a road trip to come see your new digs.” More red flags. The dealer wasn’t known for prying into the lives of her clientele, her only interest was in their money, and never would she offer to go out of her way for anything. She was too lazy to be that social. If one wanted the goods, they had to come to her, and bring exact change.

“I can hang tonight,” Shilo lied confidently anyway, a wry smirk quirking her lips. “Seven, behind the SM?”

“That sounds….yeah, that sounds great. So anyway, um, I wanted to tell you about—”

“Sorry, I’m sorta busy. Catch you later.” She didn’t want to seem too hasty, but she didn’t want to give what remained of Team Go a chance to work any techno-geekery magic to track her down. But the opportunity to make her big brother feel like a sucker was too great, and she smiled at the notion of what he’d look like tonight when he realized his stakeout behind a shopping center was a bust.

To be on the safe side, Shego incinerated the mobile phone. Dr. Drakken would just have to make or buy her a new one if it was that important, but she’d undoubtedly screwed up by giving out the number. Even if the lost signal might prevent them from pinpointing her exact location, they still had the area code now.

“You’re going to have to walk or ask politely,” came Dr. Drakken’s displeased warning, and she spun around to stare at him with a raised brow. He had his notebook open, tapping his pen on his chin in between scribbling in it. “I’m not driving you,” he explained. “And if you want to stay here, you are not stealing another car for something as frivolous as a date. You’re paid to steal for me, not from me, Shego.”

“Oh,” she uttered, and shook her head. “Yeah, no. That was…” Her lying mojo dissolved when Dr. Drakken’s eyes narrowed as he fixed a probing gaze on her. Shego sighed wretchedly as she crossed her arms. Honesty was in her best interest in this case, even if it was hard to suck it up and spit out her honest guess, “I don’t think my brothers are going to just let this one slide.” She nodded to the jet, half-skinned now and a wing disconnected. “They’re going to try even harder to find me. They just can’t keep their noses out of my business.”

To be fair, stealing a jet was crossing the line, but she couldn’t stop the resentment from rising like bile anyway.

The leather-bound notebook snapped shut with a tiny clap that made her jump. Dr. Drakken hummed in grim contemplation as he stalked toward her. “That would not be ideal,” he said, and turned a sharp scowl back at his two henchmen standing beside the open belly of the aircraft, nervously awaiting orders. “Lux!” he barked, and the pudgier of the two straightened up.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Is your in-law still hiring?”

If remembering his name was surprising, then retaining any extra information about him was. The poor man was so stupefied, he didn’t know how to answer, so he gaped like a fish for a moment before shrugging and then quickly nodding unconvincingly.

Dr. Drakken barked an order for Shego to get changed and went straight for the dingy utility van, and she braced for an earful as he hauled her across town. Over the ride, his mumbles and grumbles gave away the course of action he was devising and reviewing, and though Shego had her qualms with it, she felt it unwise to argue just yet. She’d humor him, for now, but time would tell whether she actually went along with it. She really had half a mind not to. She didn’t like the picture his mutterings painted, but at least it didn’t sound like he planned to get rid of her entirely.

They were stopped at a light on Main Street when he finally spoke up, running it by her at last. “No one can blame you for wanting strike out to lead a commendable average life,” he explained. “Going back to school to pretend you’ve gone straight-laced would make a good cover. For now you’ll lay off any risky criminal activity until they’re satisfied. In any case, it won’t hurt you to have something to fall back on if this venture doesn’t work out. It’ll be good for you.”

Despite his worked-up nerves, she was sure she caught him flick an almost sad glance her way. The night they’d arrived in Nevada, he’d asked her if she regretted coming with him, but something about that look had her wondering now if he was the one having second thoughts.

“Careful, Dr. D,” Shego groused tartly. “Being considerate of others isn’t very befitting of a man who prides himself in evil.”

He stared at her for a second more before the traffic light turned green and his gaze hardened into a frown at the road. “My motives are selfish, I assure you,” said Dr. Drakken, gripping the wheel tighter and gnashing his teeth as if to bite back a more severe retort. “I am established here. I have to protect myself. Besides, you’ll go stir crazy if I ask you to hole yourself up, and letting you lead the hounds to my door would mean a substantial setback I can’t afford yet. I think it’s best you stay away for a while. I’ll still call on you if I need you.”

Shego studied him for a moment longer before sighing in reluctant resignation. That he considered her future without him, and maybe even her wellbeing in the present – it struck a chord, and not one that sounded right. She scoffed to make light of it though. “Are you sure you aren’t going soft?” she quipped. “Seems a little like you regret hiring me.”

He flicked a scowl at her, but then his gaze dropped, and that fleeting hint of remorse again was all the evidence she needed.

“Ignore my brothers,” Shego snapped hotly. “I’ll deal with them if they come. There’s no reason to send me away.” She wanted to believe that, but how could she convince him if she couldn’t convince herself? His henchmen wore Hench Co brand uniforms for Pete’s sake. There was no playing innocent if Team Go or worse stormed the lair.

“Just do this for me to pacify your family, Shego, please,” Drakken all but begged. “I don’t want to lose you, but if you present yourself in the open, then when they do find you, they’ll see you’re doing alright for yourself. You need to make it look like you’re not up to anything sketchy.” His brow knit and his hands tightened on the wheel again. “And if they still try to take you, I’ll disintegrate them or something.”

Shego hoped he was only joking. She really couldn’t tell. “I don’t want them dead.”

“Fine, then,” Drakken snorted. “I’ll hit them with a stun gun. Better?”

Propping her elbow up on the open window, Shego leaned her cheek on her fist and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Just what makes you think you can make me go back to school anyway?” she shot drably. The thought of going back to any sort of institution didn’t agree with her.

“What, would you rather spend all your free time keeping my chair warm?”

She frowned. It shouldn’t have made her face warm over, but maybe he had a point. Maybe it would be good for her to get out and have a life. She liked the relative peace as of late, but being a recluse and cooped up with him all the time didn’t suit her well either. She needed her fresh air sometimes. It wasn’t like she was very busy anyway.

“We’ll worry about college later,” Drakken added in a pensive mumble. “Think it’s a bit late anyway.”

She was relieved for that slack, but she still hoped this ruse wouldn’t last that long. College was a big commitment, but so was tagging along with him. Shego groaned anyway and shook her head. “What do you expect me to do in the meantime?”

#CACKLING IN THE DISTANCE. a lotta this one is from the original first draft and i just aldkfugh #The Company You Keep fic #Drakgo

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xswestallen · 6 years

Text

Meant to be Together: chapter 2

WestAllen soulmate AU

When you kiss your soulmate for the first time, their name will appear on your wrist.

Barry Allen doesn’t need a name on his wrist, he’s always known who is soulmate is. What he doesn’t know, is how to tell her, kiss her, and prove it.

Iris West is dying to know who her soulmate is. She’s been eagerly awaiting him for years with no luck. But, when Eddie Thawne and Patty Spivot join the Central City Police force, Iris is confident they are her and Barry’s respective soulmates.

Chapter 1

Barry and Iris strolled arm in arm into the restaurant. Barry was wearing a suit for the first time in forever and Iris was a vision in a tight blue cocktail dress. Upon entering, they were treated to the harmony of love songs played on piano and violin.

"Hi, we have reservations for four under Allen." Barry told the maître d'.

"Ah, the other half of the double date." He replied with a smile. "The other couple has already arrived."

Barry blushed. He looked nervously from Iris' face to their intertwined arms. Quickly, he let go of her.

"Oh- Uh- No, not us. We're not a couple. Um- The people we're meeting are our dates."

The maître d' didn't seem to care. He gestured for Barry and Iris to follow him into the dining area. It was an intimate setting with a single rose as the centerpiece on each table. Outside the windows, downtown Central City looked picturesque. The glow of candles made the atmosphere even more romantic.

As Barry admired the room, Iris smirked at him.

"Told ya this would be better than just a cup of coffee at Jitters."

Barry had to agree with her. "You know romance better than me, I guess."

At a table to their left sat Patty and Eddie. Patty waved and smiled shyly at Barry. When Barry and Iris walked up to Eddie and Patty, they both stood to greet their dates.

"You look amazing!" Eddie said right away.

That was true, but Barry still scowled on the inside. He pulled out Patty's chair for her and sat down between her and Iris. Envy oozed over him as he watched Iris make heart eyes at the rookie detective.

"Sorry we're late." Iris apologized. "But, when you go somewhere with Barry, that's what happened."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who changed outfits three times." Barry said defensively.

Patty and Eddie laughed. Barry relaxed a little, seeing how the evening's conversation started out naturally and light. The waiter took their orders and brought a basket of delicious bread as an appetizer. Barry laughed to himself as he watched Iris, knowing she was internally struggling with the temptation to eat every single piece.

"It's nice to see you again, Barry." Patty said.

Barry turned his attention over to her. She looked almost as awkward as he was feeling. Although, Barry wasn't sure why. She looked really beautiful. Unlike the previous night when she had been in uniform, Patty's honey colored hair was down and she wore a figure flattering, sparkly dress.

"It's nice to see you too, Patty. You look..." Barry swallowed. He wasn't sure how to compliment her. "Really, really pretty."

Patty smiled more genuinely. "Thank you. That's what I was going for."

"You achieved it!"

She and Barry laughed a little, looking down at their plates. When they looked up, their eyes met. It felt romantic. Barry thought he should hold Patty's hand. As he went to reach for it, she met him halfway.

"Bon Appétit." The waiter said, placing their food on the table.

The food's presentation was even fancy, with sauces drizzled over the dishes in a zig-zag and garnish on top.

Patty wafted the scent of food towards her. "Mmm, Barry, yours smells so good."

"Would you like to try some?" He picked up a bite on his fork and held it up to Patty.

Barry had been expecting her to take the fork in her own hand and eat. Instead, she bent her head down and took the bite of food off Barry's fork while he held it.

Iris nudged Barry with her elbow below the table, her way of telling him good job. He was surprised to find that this date he didn't want to be on was going remarkably well. Patty was great and she did seem to like him.

Things became a little more uncomfortable for Barry when Iris and Eddie scooted their chairs ever so slightly closer. They leaned in and whispered. Barry tried to listen to what they were saying, but all he could pick up on were Iris' little giggles. The sound made Barry's stomach sour. He rolled his eyes, thinking Eddie must moonlight as a comedian.

After a few minutes of eavesdropping, Barry remembered that he should be talking to Patty.

"So, uh- Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah." Patty nodded. "I'm really glad you asked me out tonight."

"Me too." Barry said. He almost meant it, till he saw Eddie put his around Iris.

Patty was telling a story about how guys were intimated by her, after she arrest a rude date of her for drunk and disorderly conduct. It was all mumbles to Barry. He was watching Iris and Eddie over his wine glass. Eddie had just whispered something into Iris' ear, that make her eyes widen. The pair stood up a second later.

"Excuse us." Said Eddie. "We're going to go out on the veranda and dance to the music."

"Have fun!" Patty wished them with a smile.

Barry watched Iris and Eddie go outside. He cursed the building's architecture for having the veranda at his backside, making it impossible for him to spy on Iris and Eddie through the window without being obvious.

"Dancing sounds like fun, would you like to go too?" Barry offered.

Patty titled her head in surprise. "You like to dance?"

"Yeah!" Barry lied, his voice an octave higher. "I love dancing!"

"As much as I would love to see Barry Allen dance, I think it would be rude to go out there right now."

"Why's that?"

Patty giggled. "Something tells me Iris and Eddie were more interested in being alone than dancing."

To Barry, that was all the more reason to head out there. He gave up fancy restaurant etiquette and piled a few heaping forkful of food into his mouth.

Patty launched into another story, this time about how she accidentally pepper sprayed her Police Academy instructor instead of one of the cadets. It was funny, but Barry still found himself making the conscious effort not to tune her out. He felt like a jerk. This should be an enjoyable evening, the food was good and Patty was nice company. But, it wasn't enough to protect Barry from the intrusive thoughts of Iris and Eddie kissing.

"But, enough about me and my job. I have always been interested in forensics. It was actually my first choice of career, till I decided to become a cop. Oops, there I go, talking about myself again." Patty rambled.

She was awkward, but it was cute. Barry wondered if this was how Iris felt when he went on about science. He hoped he managed to be as endearing as Patty while doing it. Iris had told him so, but Barry struggled to believe her.

"So, what made you want to be a CSI?" Patty asked.

"Because of my mom." Barry said, purposefully not going into more detail.

"Was she a CSI too?"

This was a topic Barry hated. Not because he had a problem telling people about his mother's murder, but because it turned what should be light hearted small talk into a wake. He hated seeing people go from carefree to horrified with one sentence. But, since Barry knew that he would be working with Patty at CCPD for the foreseeable future, he had to tell the truth. She was going to find out about his mom eventually anyway.

"No, she wasn't a CSI, she was realtor. But, when I was 11, she was murdered."

The familiar look of shock, sadness, and regret at ever asking swept across Patty's face.

"Oh Barry, I am so sorry."

"No, you don't have to feel bad. It uh- It was a long time ago." Barry said with a somber smile. "Now, I'm able to help people get justice, so that's one good thing that came of it, I guess. Plus, I got to live with Joe and Iris."

"That's how you became so close with Joe and his daughter."

"Yeah, me and Iris were friends before, but we got a lot closer living in the same house, you know."

Patty brightened up. "It's so nice that you two have had each other all these years. I wish I had a friend like that."

A warmth built in Barry's chest. He swelled with pride whenever his friendship with Iris was brought up. It wasn't lost on Barry how lucky he is to have her.

"So, as a CSI," Patty delved back into her seemingly favorite subject. "Do you watch crime shows, like CSI: Miami, and laugh how unrealistic they are."

"I have, yes." Barry laughed.

"And are they ruined for you?"

"A little bit. CSI: Miami isn't so bad. The worst is NCIS."

"Really?"

Patty and Barry both laughed. What Iris and Eddie might be doing on the veranda had almost slipped Barry's mind, when the clacking of heels and soft cries made him turn his head.

Iris was running across the room, teary eyed. She made a beeline for the restroom and once she'd closed the door behind her, a sob echoed out. Barry looked to see a crestfallen Eddie sanding in the doorway to the veranda.

"Excuse me, Patty. I have to go check on Iris." Barry said.

"Of course."

Barry stood outside the women's restroom and knocked on the door.

"Iris, it's me."

"Bear?" A cracked voice answered on the other side.

"Can you come out so we can talk?"

"No!" Iris instantly objected. "I'm a mess. I can't go back out there."

The men's restroom door swung open, and Barry was too close for comfort to the stuffy, elderly gentleman who exited.

"Iris, I want to make sure you're ok, but I can't stand out here."

"Then," Iris began. Barry heard the lock of the door click. "Come in here."

Barry was dumbfounded.

"I can't go in the woman's bathroom."

"Why not?"

"Because!" Barry said, thinking he was emphasizing the obvious.

"It's not the kind with stall. I'm the only one in here."

"But still!"

"Barry!" Iris whined.

He sighed. A little hesitantly, he opened the door and went into the bathroom.

Iris was sitting on a little chair in the corner of the bathroom. It was dimly lit and smelled strongly of lavender. If there was ever a relaxing room to have an emotional breakdown in, this one wasn't so bad.

Barry leaned against the wall next to Iris. He put a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened?"

Iris held up her wrist. It was still blank.

Barry had been expecting that. To be frank, he been hoping for it. But, seeing Iris distraught over it made Barry feel bad.

"I kissed him and nothing." Iris cried.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm such an idiot!"

"Iris, no you're not."

"But, I am. I keep falling for people, believing they'll be the one and my search will finally be over, but I end up sad and alone every time."

Barry knelt down in front of Iris.

"You're not alone."

Iris half smiled.

"Here." Barry handed Iris a box of tissue off the skin counter.

"Thanks." She said, wiping her eyes. "Do you want to know what's the saddest part of all?"

"What?"

"I really liked Eddie." Iris sighed. "He's handsome, nice, fun, and we have a lot in common. When we kissed, I really thought it was going to happen. This time really was different from all the other I thought might be my soulmate because, for once, I wasn't hoping just to be with my soulmate, I was hoping to be Eddie's soulmate."

Barry's heart broke. He felt like crying too. The jealous side of him that longed for Iris was crushed to hear how deep her feelings for Eddie were, while the kind side of him that was Iris' best friend wished he could ease her pain.

Iris sat bent over, head in her hands.

"It's not fair that my soulmate isn't the person I'm in love with."

Barry wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. He shifted his jaw as he thought.

"You know what," Iris sprang up from her chair. "I'm done with this."

"Done with what?" Barry asked.

"Soulmates." Iris specified. "Why does everyone trust the universe, or God, or fate, or whatever to decide who is right for us? I think it's time I start deciding for myself."

Barry was stunned. He stared in disbelief as he watched Iris touch up her makeup in the mirror. With a little more liquid lipstick and confidence once again exuding from her, she turned to Barry.

"From now on, I believe we choose our own destiny."

"Iris, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I choose Eddie. Screw soulmates." Iris reached out a hand to Barry. "Come on, let's get back out there."

The rest of dinner was a blur to Barry, who'd lost his appetite and his desire for conversation. After a short one on one talk, Eddie and Iris returned to the table and resumed their whispering and giggling. Barry like He felt as if a storm cloud of depression was raining down on him alone, meanwhile the others smiled in sunshine. As cover for his stoniness, Barry told Patty he had a stomach ache. To spare his conscious the guilt of completely blowing off Patty, Barry still offered to walk her home. He hoped it might take his mind of Iris and Eddie, who'd decided to continue their date with a walk by the waterfront.

"Thanks for walking me home." Patty said.

"No problem." Barry shrugged.

"It's sweet of you. Some of the dates I've had in the past said 'see ya' and left me to walk home alone, at night, in the city. I know it probably sounds silly, but I think it's nice when a guy makes sure I get home safe."

"That is silly." Barry said. "Because, if a bad guy comes up to us, you're the one with the gun and I'm guessing much better self-defense skills."

"I don't know, Barry." Patty said. She squeezed his bicep. "I think you're holding out on me."

They laughed.

After a few moments of silence, Patty asked, "So, not to pry, but what happened to Iris before? Was she ok?"

"Yeah." Barry replied, too fast to not sound suspicious. "I mean, she was sad for a minute but then she..... got over it, I guess."

"You don't look like you're over it." Patty observed.

Barry sighed. Was he that obvious?

"Did you get some bad news?" Patty asked.

"No, it was just that uh- Iris and Eddie ummm- They uh- They kissed and errr- They aren't soulmates."

"Oh."

"Iris was really disappointed."

"That's a shame. They seemed good together."

Barry raised his eyes at Patty. "You think so?"

"I did, but I guess I was wrong. The universe works in mysterious ways."

"So mysterious some people lose faith in it." Barry mumbled.

"Some people, as in you?"

"No, not me, Iris." Barry corrected. "She's decided that she wants to be with Eddie, even if they aren't meant to be together." He tried to keep contempt out of his voice.

Patty looked deep in thought. After a moment, she said, "I could never do that."

"Me neither." Barry told her.

"I would just be nagged by the feeling that I was missing out on something better."

"Something so much better." Barry elaborated. "The kind of love soulmates have, it's electric."

"You're parents were soulmates?" Patty asked.

"Huh?" Barry was caught off guard to be asked about his parents. He'd been thinking about his love for Iris when describing the soulmate kind of love.

"Mine we're soulmates too. They were so happy together."

"Were?" Barry noted the past tense. "I'm so sorry."

"Can I confess something to you, Barry?"

"Yeah, sure."

Patty closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My dad was murdered."

"What?"

"He was killed by the Mardon brothers when they robbed a bank he was in."

"Patty, that's awful. I know how that feels. I'm so sorry."

Patty looked at Barry, studying his face.

"Strange how we both have a murdered parent."

"Yeah." Barry agreed. "That is strange."

"I wanted to be a CSI, but I became a cop after my dad's murder, so I could stop the Mardon brothers." Patty explained. "Isn't it also strange, Barry, our careers were shaped by our parents' murders."

"Yeah, I guess."

"We have so much in common, more than we'd like to have in common. That leaves me thinking we might be......"

Patty looked at Barry starry eyed.

"You think we're soulmates?" He asked.

"Do you?"

Barry pulled Patty close against him.

"Only one way to find out."

They kissed. The glow of the street lamps substituting for the glow of candlelight around them.

When their lips parted, Barry and Patty examined their wrists.

"Nothing." Barry said, voice void of emotion.

Patty kept rolling her wrists, looking closely at them, as if she believed Barry's name might be there and she missed it. When she accepted that Barry's name wasn't on her wrist, Patty looked back up at him, resigned.

"I'm sorry, Patty." Barry said. He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but he felt bad that Patty was disappointed.

"I'm sorry too. I like you a lot, Barry. But, I can't be with someone who isn't my soulmate."

"I understand." Barry told her. It was the most honest thing he'd said all night. He couldn't see himself with anyone but Iris.

"Well, this is my place." Patty gestured to the building behind them.

"Good. I want to make sure you're safe and everything's ok before I go."

Patty nodded. "It is."

"Ok." Barry held up his hand in a sad little wave. "Goodbye, Patty."

As he walked away, he heard Patty whisper, "Bye, Barry."

#westallen #westallen fic #westallen fanfiction #westallen soulmate #westallen au #the flash fanfiction #barry allen x iris west #barry x iris #iris x barry #patty spivot #eddie thawne #barry allen #iris west #westallen angst #westallen multichap #meant to be together

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