Speedsters

Of all the odd jobs Barry Allen had taken prior to joining the Central City Police Department, babysitting had never been among them.

Granted, he could say he'd done babysitting if one counted him saving kids from everything from burning buildings to being run over to angry grandmas (he really didn't want to think about that particular experience). But as Barry Allen? No. No-one wanted a weirdo who lived in a dilapidated hovel as a babysitter, let alone one who was the son of a man who'd killed his own wife. Which suited him just fine however – he could get plenty of jobs without dragging kids into the mix.

But that was then. This was now. "Now," as the case was, he was a member of the CCPD, and also the Flash. Acting in one capacity, he could help the other. Or in this case, play babysitter to the girl who was now sitting opposite him in Jitters.

"Mister Allen?"

Wasn't meant to happen like this he thought. He was meant to be the fastest man alive.

"Mister Allen?" the girl repeated.

Like, he really shouldn't complain that Superman was back, and hadn't gone all Pet Sematary on everyone, but still, not only was the big guy equal in him in speed, but far superior in strength. Also he had more powers. And a cooler uniform. And he was world famous. And-

"Mister Allen!" the girl said.

Barry sighed, finished chewing his bagel, and looked at the girl in front of him. "Yes, sweetie?"

The girl gestured at the plate of bagels that Barry had on his plate. "Are you going to eat all that?"

He bit into what was left of his second bagel. "Yep."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Oh." He gave the kid the third bagel. "Here. Eat up."

She pouted. "I don't like cheese."

"Listen kid, they're all cheese bagels and-"

"I don't like cheese."

"Oh for the love of…" Barry dipped into what was left of his change and tossed it to the girl. "Here. Get yourself something."

"Yay!" She got off the seat and ran to the counter. Barry sighed and chewed his bagel.

"Is that your daughter?"

Gah! He looked at the passer-by – a woman in her forties, giving both him and the little ten-year-old funny looks.

"Is that your daughter?" she repeated.

"Huh? Oh, no," Barry said. "I'm just waiting here for the police to get her."

"Uh-huh." She didn't sound convinced.

"I'm with the CCPD actually," Barry added. "I can show you my-"

"No, no, I don't want to see your pe…I mean, credentials." She gave the girl another look. "Well, hope the police arrive soon."

Yeah, Barry thought to himself as she walked off. Me too.

This was partly his own fault. He knew that. He could have just taken the girl to a police station and left her there. Instead, he'd made the call, saying he'd encountered a lost girl, they said they'd take a unit round, and now he had to play the waiting game.

Darla returned to the table, with a big chocolate muffin in front of her. "Here's your change," she said.

"Gee, thanks," Barry muttered before pocketing it. "So, Daria-"

"Darla," she said as she bit into the muffin. "Darla Dudley."

"Okay Darla Dudley Do-Right-"

"What?" She looked at him, her mouth already smeared with chocolate.

"Old joke. Never mind. But…" He looked round the restaurant – a lot of people were giving him funny looks. "Listen, Darla. Before you go to the police, could you perhaps not tell them I'm the Flash?"

"Maybe." She bit into the muffin. "I'm bad at keeping secrets y'know."

"Yeah, but…" He leant even closer. "Like, you're a metahuman too right?"

"A metawhatsit?"

"A metahuman. A speedster. I mean, you did chase after me in the street before that lightning bolt came down and transformed you."

"Yeah," Darla said. She giggled. "Really shouldn't have tried to tell you my name."

"So, you say your name…and lightning comes down," Barry said.

"Yep."

"And it doesn't hurt you."

"Nup."

"And that's how you got your powers."

"Nah. My foster brother gave it to me after he told me to hold his staff and say his name."

"Um…okay…"

"Yeah." Darla giggled. "It was weird. We were all holding his staff, and it was really long and pointy, and then white stuff came down from above and-"

"Okay," Barry said. He picked up a napkin and started clearing up the chocolate. "That's enough superhero origin stories for one day."

"Aw, is it?" Darla whined.

"Yep. Right now, I'm just a guy who you somehow know is the Flash, who's embarrassing himself playing babysitter with a little kid who…" He sighed.

"Mister Allen?"

Barry leant back in his chair and closed his eyes. He wasn't just hungry. He needed coffee. The food would keep his energy up, but the coffee would keep him awake.

"Mister Allen?" Darla reached over and prodded him. "Are you okay?"

"No," Barry moaned. "I'm not okay."

"Oh? Why's that Mister Allen?"

Barry didn't say anything.

"Mister Allen?"

"Oh, okay," he said. He leant forward over the table and met Darla's eyes really close. "You really want to know why I'm not okay?"

She took another bite of her muffin and nodded.

"Well, turns out that your brother, Andre-"

"Eugene."

"Can somehow trace my identity," Barry said. "And if some snot-nosed kid can do it, who knows who else can?"

Darla shrugged and took another bite of chocolate muffin.

"Then you turn up wanting to meet the Flash," Barry said. "Manage to go as fast as me as well. And I'm like, hey, maybe it's only Superman who can rival me. But no – got a girl in a purple swimsuit who can go just as fast."

"It's not a swimsuit Mister Allen."

"Then, lightning comes down from the sky (and I really don't like lightning, thanks for asking), and I'm left with a ten-year-old who needs babysitting." He picked off some of her muffin. "So, yeah. Not okay."

Darla, who apparently didn't mind losing some of her muffin, finished it off. She smiled, her mouth still stained with chocolate.

"Mister Allen?" she asked.

In silence, Barry picked up another napkin. "Tidy up kid."

She did so, before repeating "Mister Allen?"

Barry sighed. "Yes?"

"Why don't you like lightning?"

Barry raised an eyebrow.

"Like, I could do the lightning thing again," Darla whispered. She took another napkin and began wiping her glasses. "But I saw the way you looked when the lightning came down, and you looked so scared for a moment."

Barry frowned and leant back in his seat – sooner the police came, the better.

"Mister Allen? Do you dislike lightning?"

Barry squirmed in his seat. "Let's just say that lightning and I have a…mixed relationship."

"Oh." Darla put her glasses back on. "Why's that?"

"Reasons," Barry grunted.

She didn't look convinced. But he didn't feel like telling her what he'd told everyone else – that there'd been yellow and red lightning the night his mother had died. On the night his father had been arrested for his mother's murder, and been sentenced to life imprisonment as a result. He didn't feel like telling her about the night lightning had struck him either, giving him the gift of super speed.

"Mister Allen?"

"My mother's dead because of lightning," he grunted.

He could tell her that much.

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."

Barry raised an eyebrow – she sounded like she actually meant it. Sounded like she actually cared. Everyone had said "I'm sorry" after that night, but apart from Iris, he'd never got the sense that they fully meant it. That while they felt sorry for him, they were also suspicious of him – why was he covering for his father? Why was he making up ridiculous stories about yellow and red lightning? Why, years later, did he refuse to move on?

"My mum's dead too," Darla said. "And by dad."

"Oh," Barry said. "Then are you-"

"I've got foster brothers, and sisters, and a mummy and daddy who love me very much."

"Oh. Great."

"Yeah." She smiled. "Mum and dad, like, my foster mum and dad, they tell me that my real mum and dad are looking down on me, and they're ever so proud."

"That's…nice," Barry said, forcing a smile.

"Hey," Darla whispered, leaning across the table. "Do you think your mum's looking down on you? Do ya think she knows you're the Flash as well?"

Barry shrugged.

"Mister Allen?"

"Kid…don't go there," he said. "Please."

"But my mum and dad say-"

"Kid, right now…I don't care what your mum and dad say."

"Oh. Okay."

He could see that he'd hurt her. Thing was, if she believed her parents were among winged hippies among the clouds, he didn't want to take that away from her. But he didn't hold such hope for Nora Allen. His mother was dead, and after everything from kryptonians to Steppenwolf to Aussies with iron boomerangs, he didn't have any hope that some bearded weirdo in the sky was looking out for him. All he could do was bring his mother's killer to justice and get his father out of jail.

"So. Allen. This is the squirt?"

Oh come on – you had to send Kowalski?

A pair of police officers walked in, and Barry recognised their voices immediately. He didn't have to look at Kowalski to know that he was the one who made sure his right side bumped against Barry's shoulder.

"You listening Allen?"

He forced a smile and looked up. "Kowalski. Sanchez. What took you so long?"

"Oh, y'know, crime, punishment, Central City being Central City. Stuff that a forensic shrink like you wouldn't know about."

"Eh, you'd be surprised."

"Yeah. I bet." Kowalski looked down at Darla. "So. You're the lost kid eh?"

She nodded.

"You got a name?"

"Darla Dudley."

"And where are you from Darla?"

Barry would give Kowalski this much; he knew how to talk to children.

"Philadelphia."

"Philadelphia, eh? Well, that's quite a way away."

Barry hoped for Darla's sake that she wouldn't go into the whole superpowered hero thing.

"Well, come on," he said. "Got a car outside." He glanced at Barry. "Poor Mister Allen here doesn't even have a car."

"Yeah," added Sanchez. "That's why he's always late."

"Hey, I'm not always late," Barry said. "Just…sometimes late."

"Mostly late," said Kowalski.

Barry shrugged.

"Well, come on," Kowalski said, taking Darla's hand. "Let's get you away from this loser."

"Hey!"

It was Darla who said it. Darla, who'd broken her hand free from Kowalski's. Darla, who'd crossed her arms and was looking at the police officers with a pout.

"Don't talk to my friends like that!"

"Friends?" Kowalski snorted. He looked at Barry. "Making friends with little kids Allen? This what you do on off-hours?"

"Makes sense," Sanchez added. "Doesn't have a chance with Detective West's daughter, so he goes for the next best thing."

On the other side of the room, a coffee maker let out a spark.

"Should I write you on report Allen?" Kowalski sneered. "Maybe give you some quality time with daddy?"

The hairs on the back of Barry's neck stood up – electricity was coursing through his body, and it needed an outlet of some kind.

"You shouldn't take to him like that."

Three pairs of eyes looked at Darla. Actually more than that, since a few of the customers were also watching the scene.

"Like what kid?"

"Like bullies," Darla said. "And not to Barry. Barry Allen is the best, nicest guy there is here."

Kid, please don't do this.

"He got me here. He gave me a muffin. And he's done more for this city then you guys ever have."

"Oh yeah? And why's that?"

Darla, don't do this.

"Because…because…" Her face was screwing up like a wrinkled avocado.

Darla, don't!

"Because he's the Flash!"

Oh shit.

To her credit, Darla looked at Barry with a look of apology in her eyes. Barry, for his part, was too rooted to his seat to give any gesture in response.

"He's…the Flash," said Kowalski dumbly.

His life was over. Everything was over. His secret identity was out. There was no way he was going to stay in the CCPD now. He'd have to abandon everything to keep his friends and family safe…few as they were.

"Like, the Scarlet Speedster," Sanchez added.

But there was Iris. And if he had to leave her...

But maybe he wouldn't have to. Because Kowalski burst out laughing.

"He's the Flash!" he exclaimed – he doubled down, unable to keep the laughter out. "Oh Allen, you do know how to pick them!"

What?

He patted Barry on the head, messing up his hair. "Can you imagine it Sanchez? Allen, the Flash! Like, the guy can't even turn up to work on time!"

Sanchez, ever the lapdog, began laughing as well.

"And have you seen how Allen runs? He kicked Barry in the leg. "He waddles."

"Yep. That's me," said Barry through grit teeth. "Waddling."

"Oh boy," Kowalski said. "That's a good 'un." He took Darla's hand again. "Come on kid, let's get you home."

"But he is the…"

Barry shot her a look and mouthed don't.

"Yeah?" Sanchez asked.

"He's…he's a great cop," Darla said.

"Sure kid, sure."

"And someday you'll know that. And when that day comes, you…you…you won't get any muffins!"

"Come on kid."

"Or bagels!"

"I said move it!"

"No bagels! Barry will get all the bagels!"

The two cops took one of Darla's arms each and began hauling her out. Barry gave her a wink, and Darla, for her part, appeared to understand.

Go get 'em kid, he mouthed.

Given how Darla smiled at him, she definitely understood.

In silence, Barry returned to what was left of his bagels.

And unlike everyone else, he didn't flinch when the lightning bolt came down from the sky, or when the purple blur left Kowalski and Sanchez in the dust.

A/N

So in case you're wondering, yes, the idea for this came from the Shazam! credits sequence where Darla outpaces the Flash. Also because Darla is cute and awesome, and the world needs more Darlas in it.