No Words

Iris stepped into the warmth of the tub. Barry had helped her with her dress before going back downstairs to clean up after the party. As the warmth of the scented water filled her senses, she felt herself relax from the tensions of the past couple of days. The reality of what Barry had told her really hitting home – she was going to die in four month - die. She was 28 years old and had four months left to live.

"You really ok? You know you can talk to me right?" Iris could hear Barry's words in the fog of the memory.

"Yeah, I know. I'm fine, really" had been her reply. What was left to say? They had discussed as a team what needed to be done, to move forward with the alterations to the future timeline. The intel Barry and Crisco had gather wasn't just about Iris but also put Caitlin's future in peril as well. Caitlin a valuable part of Team Flash but most of all she was friend. Caitlin deserved the chance for a happy future; life had already dealt her so much pain. What would more talk accomplish anyway – right?

But, she knew what Barry had truly meant. They had conspicuously avoided the subject after his trip to the future choosing instead to run errands and finish last minute prep for their housewarming party. Barry had wanted to let her know in his own way that he was there for her, the way she had always been for him. She knew this of course, he knew she knew but she also understood his need to vocalize it.

Iris sank deeper into the tub. How do you plan out the rest of your life in four months? How do you make your mark in the world, no wait – leave it in so short of time? She had so many hopes and dreams for her future. Before her changed relationship with Barry it was a career in journalism, to be the top in her field, award winning. Now with Barry in her life in this new way her focus had changed, she still wanted to be the best in her career but now that future revolved around being wife to her soulmate, mother to their children, seeing them grow, having children of their own- her and Barry until death they did part. Her hand went to her mouth involuntarily at the deep realization that none of these those things were to be her future, not now.

"Iris?"

Iris looked up to see a concerned Barry looking down at her two glasses of wine in hand. He put the glasses onto the table by the tub and lowered himself to the rug eye level with her.

"Iris, talk to me please," his hands cupping her face a sense of desperation in his voice. It was then that she realized that she had been crying.

What to say? There were no words, no words that could truly convey what she was feeling right now in this moment. So Iris did what she always did when words failed her, she acted. She reached out her hands to his face bringing his lips to hers in a fierce kiss. Biting at his lip, demanding entrance with her tongue, her nails digging into his hair now to bring him closer to make the kiss deeper she was likely hurting him but she didn't care. Iris needed to him; she needed HIM to help her in a way words could not right now.

Barry pulled from her embrace lips now swollen from her attack, his eyes searching hers. He nodded and rose to his feet and that's when she noticed for the first time he was naked. He stood tall and strong before her – all lean muscle honed from his now accelerated DNA and years as the Flash. She studied him, his hair now tousled she remembered the softness of it beneath her fingers. The slight scar above his right eye left from a blow she had given him as kids when she challenged him to box and her punch landed him on the ground with his head hitting the pavement. Barry had ended up with six stitches and she had made him his favorite cookies for months after. For a moment their eyes met those beautiful hazel eyes that showed so much emotion looked back at her so full of love for her and concern for her – because of her, it broke her heart more. She chose instead to study the multitude of freckles that peppered his nose and cheek, the lips she had possessed, the firm cut of his jaw hers eyes trailing his body as she stash each precious detail that was Barry Allen into her memory. He was hers – or was, this was no longer promised to her. Her eyes finally came to rest on him as his desire for her came into full view. She reached out and touched him and then looked back up. His eyes had never left her then she moved and so did he.

He folded his tall frame into the tub as Iris adjusted herself to straddle his hips. Barry grabbed her with gentle hands and she let out a whimper as she folded around him. She started to move soft curves against lean muscle. Iris was frantic in her need, pushing harder driving him deeper. Her nails dragging into his back and drawing blood. She needed him to fill her, to fill this hole that was threatening to swallow her whole, then it hit – warm and electric, filling her senses, flooding her soul and she screamed – "BARRY".

Their foreheads were pressed together, their breathing in harmony in the aftermath of the storm when Barry spoke.

"I think it's time we move this to another venue. The water's getting cold and my legs are starting to cramp up", he quipped.

Iris laughed a real honest to goodness laugh and kissed him again, this time slowly and tenderly. She stepped out of the tub and allowed Barry to untangle himself from the small space. He really was tall; she smiled at him warmly and was thankful again for loving this man and him loving her.

Iris handed Barry a towel and they dried each other, hands warming places only briefly touched by the towel, eyes expressing what words need not. Then he had her in his arms and she placed her head against his chest as he took her to their bed. He deposited her onto and stared down at her like she was the most valuable thing in the world to him and then she reached up for him and he came to her. This time when they made love it was sweet and slow. As she had endeavored to visually remember every inch of him she now did the same with her hands. Iris mapped every inch, marked every surface committing to her memory now the tactile presence of her Barry, her love. This time when she soared upon the emotions only he could evoke she whispered his name in reverence for loving her, for him being in her life.

Now as she laid here wrapped in Barry's arms the warmth of his skin pressed firmly against her, her head rested on his chest, she listened to the fast pace of his heart that had now become the rhythm of her life. She listened and reveled as always at the miracle that had made Barry the Flash, but it also reminded her now of how fast time flew, how little time she had left with him. The knowledge of that also empowered her, Barry's being the Flash proved that anything possible even altering the future. She would not sit back and leave it for others to do. Iris West was going to write her own story – the future be damned!