(A/N) Written before the crossover

Iris opened the styrofoam box, extracted two foil-wrapped tacos, and handed Barry the rest of it. "So, how's it going with Cisco?"

He sighed heavily, unwrapping his first taco and dribbling salsa over it. "Well, he hasn't actually kicked me out yet. But I'm kind of expecting it every day. You remember my freshman roommate?"

"The one you never saw or spoke to unless you left your towels on the floor?"

Mouth full, he said, "It'sh kin'a li'at."

"Ouch," she murmured. "Are you giving him space?"

His eyes wandered away as he unwrapped another taco. Four squares of foil littered his patch of table. "Yyyyyyeaaaah."

She raised her brows.

"I mean, I've tried to talk to him - "

"Barry," she said.

"I just want to - "

"You just want things to be the way they were," she said. "That's why you moved in with him in the first place. You thought some late night video game marathons and pizza feasts would fix things." And yeah, Cisco probably had, too. She of all people knew that being angry at Barry Allen didn't mean you didn't miss him. But she didn't bring that up. "Now he's found out it's even worse than he thought, and you really think a couple of heart-to-hearts are going to bandaid that?"

He squirmed. "How do you know me so well?"

"Because I always have." She leaned across the table. "He deserves his space, Bare. He deserves his anger. I know you're sorry. But you can't do anything to magically fix it. This is his. Let it be his."

"You think I should move out."

"Yes, I do."

He wadded the (now six) foil squares up into a ball. "You're right," he said. "It's not helping, me being there. It's probably making things worse. I'll move out." He looked up. "Hey, you know what - "

"If the next words out of your mouth are 'we should move in together,'" she warned, "I'm going to stop you right there."

He blinked at her. "But - why? It makes sense."

"Only from a housing standpoint," she said. "Not from an us standpoint."

He chewed his lip.

"Seriously, baby. Does it really feel right to be moving in together right now? Where we are?"

"You're my home," he said.

She smiled at him. "I know. And you're mine. But that's very different than moving in together when we haven't even had sex yet."

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right." He passed her a napkin. "You've got a little guacamole - right there - "

She dabbed. "Got it?"

"Yup." He sighed heavily. "Well, I can keep looking at Craigslist. Some of those are really scary, though."

"You're a superhero, babe," she said.

"Really scary," he whispered.

She suppressed a gurgle of laughter. "Actually, you know what? You remember John from Editorial?"

"Uhhhh - the one who's getting a divorce?"

"Yeah, well, it turns out he's not getting a divorce anymore. They got back together last week."

"Well, that's nice."

"Right," she said. "But he's still got three months left on his lease in the apartment he moved into when they split up. And he's looking for a sublet."

Barry's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Mhmm."

"Isn't that, like, a dinky little studio?"

"Aren't you unemployed?"

He winced. "Fair." He had money from his parents and from Harrison Wells/Eobard Thawne, but it was all in strange, socked-away places, trusts and locked up in probate, or tied up in the running of Star Labs. Any liquid assets came out in a trickle, and CCPD had never paid well enough for him to have more than a month's worth of savings. "Three months, you said?"

"That's enough time for you to figure what's next."

"Or for us to figure out what's next," he said.

She smiled at him. "Yeah. For us."

FINIS