Author's Notes: Greetings! Holy heck, what a day. I participated in westallenfun's WestAllen Secret Santa and got backtothestart02, aka Lauren! Lauren had some cool ideas, and I tried to incorporate as much stuff as I could. I based this fic on this prompt: "Barry telling Iris how he feels about her before the PAE" and the five word prompts: reunion, confession, kiss neck/hug from behind, rescue, and flirting." This is fluffy as it gets, I sincerely hope you enjoy.

Hunching over his desk, Barry acknowledges the knock on the door with a "Come on in, I'm almost finished."

"You're working on Christmas Eve?"

Barry turns so fast he falls out of his chair. "Iris – what are you – Joe said you were –"

Iris smiles, her hat still on. "I had to walk here, Barry – and there's four inches of snow on the ground."

He's scrambling back to his feet and rushing over to her, hugging her tightly. "I can't believe you're here!"

"I can't believe you're here," she teases, flicking his nose with a mitten-covered hand. "Barry. You promised."

His heart flutters. "I know, I did," he agrees sheepishly. "I just – I've been so far behind—"

"It's Christmas Eve," she tells him, sliding her hands around his back. She rocks him; he goes with her swaying, smiling. "You are not spending Christmas Eve doing – that." She nods at the pile of papers. "You are coming home with me and my dad."

"Is your dad still here? I thought he went home."

"He is – and he's making cookies without us."

Barry inhales deeply and can almost smell them, but mostly he smells Iris' perfume. Mm. It's light, sweet, almost pepper-minty in its crispness. "How dare he," he murmurs without heat, tucking his chin over her shoulder. "How'd you get a flight in? I thought you weren't coming in until Tuesday."

She rests her gloved hand on the back of his neck. "I did, too," she admits. "But there was a last minute cancellation and – I missed you guys."

His cheeks flush. He's glad she can't see his face. "We missed you, too."

"So." She pushes him back gently, looking up at him. "Am I going to have to drag you away or will you come willingly?"

He goes mock-limp, leaning against her. She laughs and pinches his side, ineffectual through the gloves. "Barrrrrr."

"Gravity is – increasing – on me," he gasps.

"I'm flying back to National City," she warns. "Don't test me, Barry Allen."

He slumps dramatically to the floor, eyes closed. She sighs and kneels next to him. Then she lies down partially on top of him, head on his chest, and he swears his heart either stops or starts beating so fast it can't be counted. "You're such a nerd," she tells him. He can feel her words against him. There's a lump in his throat, all of a sudden.

Tell her.

He strokes her shoulder instead, humming. "These floors are kind of gross," he says.

"That's why you're cushioning me," she replies.

He chuckles, pushing up, and she lets him up. "Bet your dad's couch is more comfortable," he muses, prying himself to his feet, a little awkwardly.

Iris lifts both eyebrows challengingly, walking over to the closet and pulling out his coat, tossing it to him. "Don't make any promises you don't intend to keep, Bartholomew."

In mock offense, he huffs and slides it on. "I have never gone back on my word."

She hums, straightening the lapels for him. "Like you said you wouldn't spend Christmas Eve at the lab?"

He smiles sheepishly and holds out his arm to her. "You said you weren't coming back until after Christmas," he reminds her.

She takes his arm, squeezing it. "We are two of a kind, Barry Allen."

"We are indeed, Iris West."

Snow is still flurrying outside when they exit the precinct. "You weren't kidding," he says, amused, drawing a scarf up to his throat. "You either love me or you hate it when I don't listen to you." He lets her go and takes a single step and promptly slips, flailing spectacularly to regain his balance. "I'm okay!" he promises, and then he falls in one fell swoop, and Iris' laugh is golden.

"Bar," she says, holding out a hand, and he takes it gently, more for show than anything, pushing himself up on his big awkward Bambi limbs. She dusts him off, and he bows his head so she can get the snow out of his hair. "If you deprive me of couch cuddles, I will hold it against you," she warns lightly. "I flew home for this."

"I'm so glad you did," he admits seriously, face flushed with more than the cold. "God, it just wasn't gonna be the same without you." They descend the staircase with great care – she insists on holding his arm, even though there's no way she could stop his fall, but somehow he stays steady with her at his side. "I mean, Joe and I are having so much fun, don't get me wrong," he teases. "Drinking beer, eating cold pizza, watching Rudolph for the twelfth time in a row."

"I have truly been missing out," she says dryly.

"You have," he agrees gravely, walking alongside her, angling himself to block the wind for her. She squeezes his arm appreciatively. "Is it cheap to call an Uber?" he asks.

"Honey, if you can find an Uber, I am all for it."

His luck being notoriously poor, he doesn't expect to succeed, but a driver named Abram agrees to meet them less than a block away. "Huh. Christmas miracle," he muses, and then has to scramble ahead as Abram pulls immediately up to the curb ahead, flashers blinking.

It's nice and toasty in his car, and there's plenty of room in the backseat but Iris still leans against him companionably, and he blushes the whole ride home.

He has to surrender her undivided attention the second they cross Joe's door, and he tries not to mind the end of their perfect little moment as he smiles at Joe and jokes about the cookies. Joe prods him playfully with a clean cooking spoon while he sneaks the cookie-batter covered one out of reach. "Uh huh," he agrees, popping the spoon into his mouth as Joe prods him again.

Iris snags a dollop for herself before he shoos them both, and they retreat to the living room. Joe's already got a fire and Rudolph on. Barry smiles, toes off his shoes and tosses his coat on the floor. He settles back on the couch, sprawling across it. He oomphs loudly when Iris lets herself drop on top of him, sighing deeply in satisfaction. "You make a good pillow," she tells him.

He tries and fails to not preen. "Yeah?"

She hums, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, and all sense of teasing disappears for him. He settles his arms around her, aching to keep her comfortable, here, like this, forever. "Mmhm," she agrees. "I missed this." He rubs a hand up and down her back. She all but purrs. "Mm, Bar, I love you."

He pauses. "I love you, too," he says, and tries to ignore the little fracture in his heart that fissures because he knows, he knows she doesn't mean it the same way.

But it's close enough, good enough – almost enough.

Right?

"I missed you," she says, and his heartrate picks up. She strokes a small patch of skin on his arm idly. "I forget how much I miss you until I'm gone." Softly, she adds, "I want to take you with me, everywhere. You might not like all of it—"

"I'm sure I would love it," he assures, barely breathing.

"But I think we could have fun."

Tell her. Tell her. TELL HER.

He locks the eager little gremlin in his brain up in its cage, but his heart is still chanting in its absence, and he can't stop himself from blurting out, "I really, really love you, Iris."

She keeps stroking his arm for several long, quiet moments. The silence is agonizing. He tries not to pass out.

"Yeah?" she asks at last, sitting up, framing his sides with her knees and looking down at him, needing to see his face, it seems. He swallows, holding her gaze and nodding slowly. A smile crests like sunrise across her face. He smiles back. "I really love you too, Barry," she says, leaning in, just a little.

He reads her, like he has always done, and leans up just enough to kiss her.

It's amazing, better than any dream or hope or fleeting fantasy.

When Joe calls out "Cookies!" they break apart, and he smiles sheepishly because okay, wow, okay – and she climbs off him with a playful smile.

He follows her into the kitchen after a beat, and Joe takes one look at them, sighs deeply, and says, "Oh thank God, Barry."

Iris sighs, "Dad" and Barry reaches up to knit his hands behind his back, smiling sheepishly.

"Yeah?"

Joe pokes him in the chest again with a clean baking spoon. "I thought you were never gonna tell her."

Barry makes a disagreeing noise. "Never is a very long time."

"Sure took your time." But he offers them the tray of cookies, and Barry smiles at him as he takes two reindeer, passing her one.

They toast, bumping their cookie reindeer noses together, and Barry knows that it's already the best Christmas gift he could have asked for.