Reflections

by Pokey1984

"Police in Central City saw both more and less of the Flash than anyone else..." One-shot. Just a look at the Flash interacting with police, first responders, etc.

Reflecting; A Flash Fanfic

Summary: In season two, after his first encounter with Zoom, Barry gets a small but much needed confidence boost when he gets the chance to see the Flash reflected in the eyes of his law-enforcement colleagues.

Author's note: I was watching my season two DVD's for roughly the umpteenth time. After watching ep. 6 and 7 (Enter Zoom and Gorilla Warfare) I started thinking about Captain Singh's response to recent events. Then I started thinking about how the police and first responders in general might feel about the Flash. A few hours later, this little slice-of-life ficlet was born.

I offer no defense. I just thought that after that, Barry could use some warm-fuzzies.

Part one:

Police in Central City saw both more and less of the Flash than anyone else. While no one really 'saw' the Flash as anything more than a motion blur, most people rarely had more than a single encounter or two if they were very unfortunate. This was due primarily to the fact that no one really encountered the Flash unless they were in serious trouble.

The exception to that rule, of course, were Central City's finest. These days, there was hardly a soul in uniform who hadn't found him or herself suddenly whisked away to the scene of a crime or an accident. Many had experienced this multiple times.

And yet, the Flash seemed almost shy when in the presence of police officers. If anything, he seemed to work even harder to stay out of sight. In fact, the Flash never even brought criminals into the station, instead bringing an officer to the scene. As far as anyone on the force knew, the speedster had never even set foot inside the building.

That is, until he was literally dragged in. Until that day, most cops had never seen more of the Flash than a blur of red. That day, they all got a good, long look. That day, they all wished they hadn't.

David Singh was one of many who would never forget that moment. To the police Captain, the Flash either made his life easier or harder, but was always on the periphery of his job and his life. The mere presence of the scarlet speedster in their city had done wonders for the crime rate, which he was grateful for since the existence of metahuman criminals more than made up for the slack.

But on that day the larger than life, almost mythic figure bled. In fact, he bled all over the precinct floor. David had seen the dribbles of blood on the mezzanine floor and had cleaned it up himself with undiluted bleach. He'd refused to let anyone take samples. The monster hadn't been injured in the slightest, which meant that blood belonged to the Flash. Even the red suit and mask hadn't hidden the boy's injuries. He wasn't going to be the one who let the kid's blood be sent off to some lab for study.

And that fact had truly shocked the captain. Not the injuries, but seeing the city's hero like that had made it so very obvious. He was just a boy, a kid. When he was speeding around the city with lightening crackling in his wake, he seemed strong, powerful, timeless; like some kind of Greek god.

But he wasn't some all-powerful, mythic creature. The Flash was not only mortal, he was a kid. The mask was good, it didn't leave any features to work with but it still let you feel like you'd seen his face. Usually when that face was seen, it was twisted into a smirk or pulled into a look of determination.

That night in the station, Singh had seen only pain and confusion. Truthfully, that pain had been heartening in the moment. The monster had shaken the hero's body, gesturing with him as if he were nothing more than a rag doll. Only the rictus of pain as the young man attempted to raise his head gave away that life remained in that limp figure. Underneath the mask and the blood, the kid had been terrified and in agony.

And then he'd been gone, leaving behind scattered blood drops and brass-jacketed lead, scattered like so many marbles on the floor. There wasn't a single thing that anyone could do about it. That had infuriated the police captain more than anything else. He'd watched that beaten up, scared kid be dragged away and he could do nothing.

For days, there was no word. More than a week went by and Singh nearly believed the murmurs that the Flash must be dead. He'd been in the grips of that beast, barely alive. In the wake of that, no one saw him.

Much as he didn't want the kid outed, Singh did check every hospital in a fifty mile radius for anyone approximately the right age who had possibly-matching injuries. He'd found two leads, but both young men checked out.

There was no doubt that the Flash was in desperate need of medical care and, unless he had a private physician and hidden hospital, it didn't look like he'd gotten any. That encouraged David's belief that the young man likely didn't make it. He held out hope, however, as they also hadn't found any dead bodies matching the description with or without the red leather.

Then, without warning or preamble, the Flash was spotted again. He was spotted being chased through down town by a giant gorilla, of all things. Actually, more people spotted the gorilla. That had caused a bit of panic and ended up being the reason that David Singh finally got to meet the Flash.

He was sitting in his office trying to figure out what the hell the city could do about the truly enormous gorilla that had torn through town and then vanished, when a gust of wind had blown through the room. By the time he looked up, the cause was gone but there was a sticky note in the center of his computer screen.

'Meet me on the roof?' it read, complete with question mark. He didn't hesitate. He also didn't hurry. If he ran, it would draw attention. So he walked calmly and sedately up the stairs and through Allen's lab to the roof access.

And then he was face to face with the miraculously healthy hero. Well, sort of. The Flash had his back to the door, standing with one foot propped up on the ledge, gazing out at the city like a sentinel, alert and ready. Singh crossed the roof and stopped about ten feet from the man on the ledge.

When he'd stopped, the Flash finally turned to face him. He was back-lit by the city lights and, though he seemed to be still, his body was taut with tension. He was a bow-string, ready to be released and fly.

"Captain Singh," the man greeted in a warbling, unearthly voice.

"You wanted to see me?" David returned, trying to pretend that this meeting was even a little bit normal.

"I wanted to thank you," The Flash returned and Singh thought he saw a hint of a smile on the shadowed face. "And I wanted to ask you to thank your officers for me. I don't know if you realize just how much danger you all were in, trying to save me the other day."

"Didn't make a difference," David heard himself grumbling. "That monster still dragged you away. I was afraid…" He trailed off, suddenly superstitious about mentioning the possibility of the young man's death. To his surprise, the small smile became a smirk.

"The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," The Flash quoted with a little bow. After a moment, he softly admitted, "It was close, though. Really close."

"So did you get that thing, that monster?"

His response was a subtly shaken head. "Not yet," the Flash provided an answer and a promise in those two words. "I took care of Grodd, though."

Singh blinked. "Who or what is Grodd?"

A careless shrug. "The giant gorilla," the man in red answered simply. "I thought you'd want to know that he won't be a problem again."

Singh felt a headache coming on. "Not only do you already know enough about that damned gorilla to know its name, but you've already killed it?"

That got him a sheepish head tilt, "Well, he's not dead," came the admission. "But he won't ever be a threat to this city or anyone else, ever again."

That gave the police captain pause. He studied the man in front of him thoughtfully. "Just how many times have you save us all without anyone even knowing about it?"

"Not as many as I should have," there was no humor in the response. "There's a lot you don't know, that I couldn't even begin to explain. But that man who nearly killed me, it's my fault he's here. Without me the black hole would never have formed. Without me, Zoom never would have found his way to this city. It's not all my fault, but I played a pivotal role."

His head bowed a bit at this admission. After a brief pause, he added, "I'm doing everything I can to make it right, though."

And despite the fact that he was again upright, whole, and looking as confident as ever, Singh could still see the very young man he'd glimpsed when blood trailed over a scarlet mask.

"I wouldn't know about any of that," Singh suddenly found himself reassuring. "I don't know black holes and monsters," he did make a silent mental note that the kid had named the monster Zoom. "But I know a hero when I see one. I know that you have saved countless lives, including that of my husband, once upon a fire. I know…" he paused there, realizing that he didn't actually know this young man. "I trust that you would never do anything to hurt innocent people."

There was a bit of a spark in the young man's eyes, a glint of belief forming. Seeing this, Singh redoubled his efforts at reassuring the very young hero. "Dear God," he mused on a thought that had occurred to him repeatedly over the past year or so of knowing that the Flash existed. "You could have your run of this city…"

He trailed off at the amused expression that the young man wore and reviewed what he'd just said. He groaned and shook his head. "No pun intended," he offered. "My point remains that you could do anything with your gifts and there's nothing anyone could do to stop you, yet you choose to help people. Near as I can tell, you've yet to break a single law in this city, despite everything."

"Do speed limits count?" Apparently the Flash's moods shifted as fast as his body, for he was definitely amused now where moments ago he'd been skirting the edges of morose.

"Actually the city prosecutor and I have been over that and as the law is currently written you do have to be in a vehicle for speed limits to apply. The law specifically uses the phrase 'operating a motor vehicle' so you're safe from prosecution on foot."

"Good to know," the young man mused, seeming thoughtful. He came to sudden attention, his hand snapping to the side of his head as he turned partially away. In a non-sequitur, he said, "Sixth and State, got it."

Sing had time to frown at that before the young man glanced back at him. "I've got to go," he said hesitantly. "I came here to say thank you and I guess I've said that, so…"

"You're welcome," Singh returned. "If I could ask a favor?"

The Flash had been turning away but he paused.

"What can I do for you?" he asked hesitantly.

"My men have been very worried about you. If you could be a bit more visible for a while and set their minds at ease? Maybe then they'd stop pestering me to set up search parties…"

That earned him a look of surprised disbelief. "Everyone's that worried?"

"Son," David said firmly. "I've personally spoken to every hospital and morgue in a fifty mile radius at least three times in the past week, terrified that I'd find you there and wondering how I'd confirm it if I did."

That gave the young hero pause. After a moment the young man said, "I didn't realize you were worried." He paused and stood there for a long moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "It's up to my family to decide whether the world should know if…" he trailed off and shook himself. "But I'll make certain you're notified, so that you're not left wondering."

Taken aback at the gesture, David automatically responded with, "Thank you, Son, I appreciate that."

The young man shook his head, looking bemused. "Now, I've really got to go. Bank robbery in progress…

"Sixth and State, Second National Bank of Central City," Singh finished, recognizing the address the young man had muttered earlier. "Stay safe out there."

"You too, Captain," the man returned and in a flicker of lightening, he was gone.

Barry, with the Captain's request still lingering in his mind, considered the would-be thieves. They'd filled their duffel bags with cash by the time he'd arrived and were already on their way out of the bank. It had required barely a thought to remove the straps from the bags and tie the men hand and foot with those same straps. He could hear sirens approaching and normally he'd take off at this point. But the Captain's request still echoed in his mind, so he hesitated.

Before he could decide how to proceed, flashing lights filtered through the windows and he could hear officers approaching the broken front doors cautiously. In a moment of inspiration, Barry darted over to the wall and flicked on the bank's primary lighting, clearly spotlighting the bound men on the floor. Technically, he'd just compromised the scene, but since the men had been caught inside and everything was on camera, he doubted it would cause any problems and it certainly set the approaching officers at ease.

As the officers lowered their weapons, Barry stepped toward the center of the room. Both men stiffened reflexively at his approach, then relaxed as they recognized him.

"All clear," he announced to the officers, careful to disguise his voice. He didn't know either man well, but he was always careful around men and women he worked with.

"Flash!" At the officer's voice, Barry recognized the pair. He was endlessly amused that the partnered beat cops were actually named Smith and Jones. It was Smith who'd spoken. "Glad to see you! Everyone's been real worried about you."

"So I heard," Barry answered wryly.

"You looked pretty terrible last week," Jones prompted with concern. "You doing alright?"

"I heal pretty fast," Barry confirmed vaguely. Smith had holstered his weapon and was pulling a set of plastic zip-tie restraints from the holder on his belt.

"Cover me," he said to Jones, who trained his weapon on the three men on the floor, all of whom were watching the by-play and looking rather dejected.

"Allow me," Barry offered, replacing the makeshift ties with the more appropriate restraints in the blink of an eye. Neither officer seemed startle or surprised in the least, taking that little display in stride.

"Ought to stop by the station and get a few of those for yourself," Jones offered when the men were correctly restrained and standing in a row by the door. Smith read the contents of the little card each officer carried to the men as he did so.

Barry glanced at him in surprise. "Say what?"

Jones shrugged. "Even the 'Fugitive Recovery' guys carry binders," he offered, gesturing at the plastic ties. "I bet the Captain wouldn't mind if we gave you a few pairs."

Feeling decidedly weird, Barry muttered, "I'll think on that." A bit more firmly, he asked, "You guys got it from here?"

Two big smiles greeted that question. "We got it," Smith confirmed. He prodded one of the robbers toward the door and the waiting squad car.

"Thanks, Flash," Jones responded. Barry took his cue and left, feeling very weird about the comradery that the officers seemed to feel toward him. They'd seemed even more comfortable chatting with the Flash at a crime scene than they did talking to Barry, the CSI.

Shaking off the weirdness, he headed into a few loops of the city in an effort to clear his suddenly muddled thoughts.

Part Two:

Author's notes: So I wrote this a few hours after writing the previous part. It's still just a one-shot, except it's two one-shots that go together. This is quite a bit fluffier than the previous chapter. Additional notes follow.

The next day he was investigating an attempted arson when he heard a group of firemen mention his alter ego. As the fire department had controlled the problem before it got out of hand, the Flash hadn't been involved. The store had been empty when the fire started and it had smoldered for quite a while before the flames took hold. Consequently, there had been plenty of time for the alarms to sound and bring the fire department.

Not having his alter-ego's input made his job as a CSI a bit more difficult, but Barry Allen knew his job well and wasn't concerned. He was, however, curious about a few things so when he heard one of the men mention the Flash, he wandered over.

"No, he's okay," one of the men said in a reassuring tone. "I saw a couple of guys from last night's shift at the diner this morning. The Flash was out and about rounding up bank robbers last night."

The rest of the small group looked relieved to hear that. One chimed in with, "I hadn't seen him around in nearly two weeks and after that thing on the news…"

"I heard he was hurt pretty bad…" Someone speculated.

With a great deal of emphasis, the first man chimed in. "I, for one, am very grateful for the Flash. Since he showed up, I rarely spend time pulling dead kids out of the rubble. He's saved a lot of lives and he's had a hell of an impact on my sanity."

The entire group nodded forcefully. "I'm with you," someone who hadn't spoken yet interjected. "Job's a lot easier knowing he's already pulled everyone out."

Then one of the group noticed him standing there, ostensibly taking samples from the outside of the burned window.

"What about you, kid," the man called. "You seen the Flash lately?"

Barry capped the swab in his hand and held it up as a visual aid. "I'm just a lab tech," he offered with a shrug. "I'm always here after the fact. I don't really see the Flash much."

They seemed to accept that and put him out of their minds as they began recounting some of their own sightings of the Flash. Barry wandered off, lost in thought. He didn't stop thinking about those conversations for the rest of the day.

That evening during his regular patrol, the firemen's conversation from that morning made him hesitate to leave the scene several times. He made the effort to exchange a few sentences either with a victim he helped, or with the officer who responded. Invariably, the exchanges were bright and cheerful, but he kept them brief as he found them rather unnerving. He wasn't looking for thanks, but he heard it over and over.

Then came the terrible moment when he was too late. It happened now and then. He couldn't be everywhere at once. Cisco heard about the SUV vs. Pedestrian on the scanner and Barry ran over immediately to see if he could help.

Cisco informed him that the ambulance was at least ten minutes out when he arrived on the scene to find the woman bleeding heavily and sprawled in front of the car. The driver was standing by her head, paralyzed, both hands over her mouth. The worst part was the child just sitting up on the pavement next to her mother.

Seeing him, the driver began to babble. "The kid ran out in front of me!" she cried, pulling her hands just far enough from her mouth to speak clearly. "I tried to stop, but she ran out and grabbed the kid… Is she gonna be okay?"

Barry knelt next to the woman. She was bleeding badly from a comminuted fracture on her leg and a serious scrape than ran down the side of her head. He was more concerned with her wheezing breaths, though. That didn't sound good and the ambulance was still ten minutes out, plus time to load her up and drive her back… Barry could have her there in two minutes.

Making an executive decision, he ordered, "I'm taking her to the hospital. Stay here and wait for the police."

The young woman nodded frantically and he scooped up the mother as gently as he could. In a minute and a half, he was standing in the middle of the nearest emergency room. A trauma team was rushing into the lobby as he walked in, alerted by Cisco that he was pre-empting the ambulance.

"Pedestrian versus SUV," he informed them. "I think she had badly broken ribs."

Someone already had a stethoscope pressed to her chest under her blood-soaked shirt. The triage nurse listened a moment and nodded. "Definitely a punctured lung," he declared. "Someone page a surgeon, let's get her into an OR, STAT." he glanced at Barry. "Good call, I think if she'd waited for the ambulance we'd be processing a DOA."

"That's what I was afraid of," Barry confirmed. The gurney rolled away. Barry ran back to the scene. In the three minutes he'd been gone, a single police car had arrived and the officer was still climbing out of his car. Barry approached the toddler, still sobbing on the ground. A jogging stroller stood on the sidewalk. The stroller's safety harness dangled over the side and Barry saw a small stuffed rabbit perched precariously on the footrest.

Gathering up the toy, Barry approached the kid, who looked to be two or three years old. "Hey, there," he greeted, holding the toy out. "It's okay," he tried to sooth. "Your mom's gonna be just fine."

The little girl looked between his face and the toy several times before reaching toward the rabbit. Barry was about to let go of it, when she grabbed his wrist instead and used it to pull herself up. Only his superior reflexes allowed him to catch the child when she unexpectedly launched herself into his arms, rabbit forgotten.

Wide-eyed, Barry pulled the girl close and tucked her head under his chin, slipping the toy into her arms. She clutched the stuffed bunny with one arm while maintaining a death grip on his front with her other hand.

After a moment, the officer approached him. "What happened?"

Barry shook his head and spoke softly, pitching his voice low but not disguising it for fear of frightening the child. "I got here after the fact. Mom was in bad shape. She's in surgery at St. Andrews. Ambulance is still about seven minutes out, they should look over the kid when they get here but I think she's alright."

The girl was quieting, but her sobs renewed when he tried to pass her off to the officer and she flatly refused to let go of him. Reluctant to traumatize her more than necessary, the officer backed off. "Would you mind holding her a few minutes more?" The officer asked warily. "She seems rather attached to you."

Bemused, Barry nodded and held the child, who relaxed again when the officer went to talk with the driver at greater length. Barry had little experience with small children. Neither he nor Iris had much of an extended family so he'd had little reason or opportunity to deal with kids.

Still, the little girl seemed content enough despite his lack of experience and, as he gently rubbed her back and stroked her head, her terrified tears eased to sniffles. She was still too young to process the true horror of what had happened. All she really knew was that it had been scary and now her mom was gone. Eventually, she stopped crying and finally looked up at him.

"Hey, there," Barry greeted as gently as he could managed. "How are you doing?"

She blinked wide brown eyes at him and reached toward his face with a chubby little hand. Barry settled the girl in one arm and caught her questing fingers with his now free hand.

"What's your name?" he asked, now that the girl seemed coherent. He didn't know if she was old enough to understand, but he tried anyway.

"Katie," the girl answered him in a mostly clear voice. "Mommy?" she asked plaintively.

"You'll see Mommy soon," he promised, hoping that was true. The doctors had seemed confident enough. Searching for something else to ask the child, he tried, "How old are you, Katie?"

She held up three fingers and said quite clearly, "Two!"

This surprised a laugh out of him, which drew the gaze of both the officer and the driver. Barry ignored them in favor of calming the girl. She had started to squirm and was sliding down a bit so he hitched her a little higher on his hip. "Well, that clears that up," he declared to himself. "Do you know what happened Katie?"

That question earned him an enthusiastic stream of babble from which he managed to catch the words 'mommy' and 'bunny' but little else. Apparently it didn't matter if the girl was two or three, he didn't understand toddler-speak well enough to get anything usable from her. At length, however, she pointed toward the stroller where he'd found the stuffed rabbit.

Only then did Barry spot the cell phone sitting in the stroller's cup holder next to a half-full water bottle. He strolled toward this, bouncing the girl a bit to make her giggle and chatter a bit more while he picked up the phone. He carried it over to the officer as the ambulance finally arrived.

"Officer Stephens?" he queried, holding out the phone. "I think this belongs to the injured woman. I found it over in the stroller."

The phone was locked, but the owner had, thankfully, programmed the emergency contacts and Officer Stephens was soon speaking with Katie's father. Unfortunately, this still left Barry holding a two-maybe-three year old girl. Noticing the EMTs looking around in confusion for their patient, Barry saw his salvation.

He approached the nearest of the EMTs, a young woman with a blond ponytail bouncing behind her, he explained.

"I already took the woman to St. Andrews," he informed her. "I don't think Katie here is hurt, but I think her mom was holding her when she got hit…"

The paramedic reached for the girl but Katie started screaming "No, no, no, no, no!" and promptly dropped her toy to latch onto Barry with both hands. The EMT snickered when, exasperated, Barry tried to sooth her while attempting to loosen the girl's grip. He shot the woman a glare, which made her snort with laughter, but cover her mouth and look away.

With a sigh, Barry stopped trying to get the girl to let go and began to rub her back again, muttering reassuring nothings to her.

"Katie, it's okay," he tried. "I'll stay, it's okay…" After about ten variations on this, the girl finally calmed again. Awkwardly, he tried to bend down and retrieve her rabbit doll while juggling the girl. The giggling EMT took pity on him and retrieved the toy.

"Hey there, Katie," the blond greeted in a friendly, perky voice. When the girl turned to peer at her, she held the small toy just out of reach and wiggled it enticingly. "My name's Becky," she announced.

Calmer, but still wary of the stranger, Katie clung tightly to Barry and he patted her back encouragingly as Becky continued to speak to her. "I know a lot of scary things are happening aren't they?" Becky said to the girl, still holding the bunny up. The girl nodded solemnly. "There's a lot of strangers tonight, huh?"

Katie nodded again and loosened one arm to reach for the bunny. Becky brought it closer, but didn't release the toy completely, making the girl bring her hand closer along with the stuffed rabbit.

"Who's this?" The EMT asked, stroking the toy that the girl still held.

To his eternal surprise, the girl clearly answered, "Barry."

"Barry the Bunny, huh?" Becky asked the girl, who nodded emphatically. "My son has a Barry the Bunny, too."

"He does?" the masked Barry asked in surprise, apparently surprising Becky the EMT, who looked away from the girl to stare at him.

"It's a popular children's show," Becky explained. "Almost as big as Dora."

Katie looked between the two adults curiously now that they were talking. Recovering from his surprise, and wondering that he hadn't heard the show mentioned, Barry looked down at the girl. "So tell me about Barry the Bunny."

The girl did so, he assumed. Like most of her chatter, he didn't understand more than one word in ten, but Becky seemed to and asked Katie a question about whatever she'd just said. For several minutes, the two chattered back and forth about the television show and favorite foods and colors. Eventually, Becky tried again to take the girl from his arms.

Katie still didn't want to go, though she didn't scream this time. Instead she just held him tightly and hid her face. This time Becky joined him in his sigh.

"We see this sometimes," Becky said to him, at a loss on how to free him from the toddler without unduly upsetting the girl. Katie had managed to scramble up his chest and had both hands wrapped firmly around his neck. "Usually with an officer. Our best bet would be if a family member shows up or if she falls asleep."

"I don't think she's going to fall asleep anytime soon," Barry said in exasperation, rubbing her back almost in defense as her grip on his neck was strangling tight.

"You might be surprised," Becky said easily. "At that age, once they calm down, they tend to go out like a light after something stressful."

"Really?" Barry asked curiously.

The woman nodded. "I saw it all the time with my son. He's about a year older than her, I think. I see it on the job, too. They just shut down, once they feel safe." Becky eyed him speculatively. "You might try rocking her a bit."

Unsure how to go about doing that, Barry settled into a slow pace along the back of the ambulance. Two paces and turn, then repeat seemed to be a steady rhythm and Katie was relaxing again. He hoped that the EMT was right and she'd fall asleep. He expected the news crews would get here soon. It had been nearly fifteen minutes and surely word of his continued presence would have reached them by now. If the girl didn't let go soon, he wasn't sure if he hoped it was Iris who turned up, or one of her colleagues. He rather hoped neither, but was certain that wouldn't be the case if he didn't get out of there soon.

With a sigh, he considered what tomorrow's front page would look like if he couldn't pass the girl off before the cameras showed up. Cisco had chortled at him for nearly five minutes after the girl first refused to let go and Barry still heard an occasional snicker from his friend, particularly when the 'Barry the Bunny' topic had come up. He'd considered turning off the earpiece, but a small part of him half-hoped for another emergency so he'd have a valid excuse to just pry the girl off of him and run.

That, apparently, was not to be. Instead, Barry forced himself to keep it slow as he methodically paced behind the open ambulance doors which partially shielded him from view. Thankfully, this part of town was fairly deserted at this time of night.

Finally, a small tennis shoe scraped down his ribs as the girl shoved against his shoulders to push herself up. He scrambled to keep hold as she girl squirmed. After an interminable moment, a squeal rose next to his ear.

"Daddy!" Katie all but screamed. Barry felt small bit of glee when Cisco swore at the volume. He hoped the girl's pitch had caused feedback from the speaker.

Then he felt complete and utter relief when he realized what the squeal and the squirming meant. Apparently the girl's father had arrived, which meant Barry was off the hook. He turned in time to see a man about his age begin jogging, crying out, "Katie!"

Barry began to stride toward the man, helping the little girl turn in his arms so that she could be passed off to her father. Just as he was transferring the girl, a camera flash sparked and he had to repress a flinch. Apparently, the ambulance had hidden the news people from him as much as it had served in the reverse.

The father clutched his daughter tightly with one arm, but reached out to catch Barry's wrist with the other.

"The officer told me you took Sarah to the ER," the man said. Barry nodded. "Thank you!" he said emphatically.

"You're welcome," Barry answered automatically, but the man didn't release him. Instead, he turned to his daughter.

"Katie, tell the Flash thank you for helping Mommy."

The girl turned in her father's grip and said something like, "Tank oo," and, to his horror, launched herself toward him from her father's arms. To his shock and gratitude, she didn't grab hold of him. Instead, she braced herself on his shoulder and pressed wet lips to the side of his face.

Despite the camera taking pictures, he couldn't be anything but touched by this display. In a moment of pure chivalry, as the girl was pulling away, Barry caught her hand and kissed the back of it.

"You're very welcome, Katie," he said in a voice that he hoped was too soft for the microphones he was sure were pointing his direction. Only then did he toss a sloppy half-salute, half-wave toward the news crew. Then, he took off. Once he was out of sight, he found a darkened rooftop where he could take a moment to catch his breath.

"That might be the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me," Barry muttered to the empty air, once he'd begun to process the past twenty minutes.

"Says the dude with superpowers," Cisco intoned in his earpiece. After a moment, he added, "Aww, that was adorable!"

"Say what?" Barry demanded.

"CCPN's got streaming video," Cisco informed him. "That whole thing with the girl and her dad is just too cute for words."

Barry groaned. Cisco chortled again. "I take it back. The comments section is filling up fast. Apparently there are plenty of words about just how endearing that was."

"Alright, that's it," Barry declared, taking off toward his house. "I quit, I'm done, that's it. The Flash is officially history."

"Dude, you cannot be serious," Cisco demanded in his right ear. "That's timelessly great press. In fact, I think that you just took 'kissing babies' to a whole new level!"

Barry shook his head in exasperation. "Well, it's certainly enough for tonight. Go home, Cisco. I'm going to bed."

He raced home and packed away his suit which adequately silence Cisco's laughter and comments. Four hours later, he was on his second mindless action movie and his third pizza when Iris rushed into the house.

"Hey, Iris," he greeted lightly but neutrally when she bounced into the room. She was holding a stack of papers of some kind and was in such a hurry to show them off that she slammed into the sofa at some speed.

"Hey, Barry," she said eagerly holding out the sheets. "Thought you might want to get a sneak peek at tomorrow's front page article by yours truly!"

Barry blinked at that, but accepted the pages, only to groan when the article led with a shot of the Flash kissing little Katie's hand gallantly. He sighed as he read the text, which was quite thorough and accented with four more photos featuring him and the girl. There was one thing he was glad to see.

"So Katie's mom is going to be okay?" he confirmed what he'd read.

Iris nodded. "Doc said her prognosis is good. I barely made the morning edition because I was waiting on that quote. She only got out of surgery an hour ago. The doctor said he wouldn't be so confident if she hadn't gotten into surgery so quickly."

"That's good," Barry commented with relief. "I never know if I'm doing the right thing when I don't wait for the ambulance. Sometimes it's worse to move someone…"

"Well, you definitely did the right thing this time," Iris confirmed. She chattered on, virtually reciting the article she'd just handed him. "Mr. Conner said that his wife complained recently about Katie climbing out of the stroller when they went for runs. He thinks, based on what the driver said, that Katie must have climbed out and taken off into the street. Her mom chased her down and…"

She trailed off but Barry nodded. That jived with what he'd seen.

"The officer on the scene said they don't expect any charges to be filed. It looked like an accident, plain and simple," Iris added. With a smirk, she said, "And I got some adorable pictures out of it!"

"She was so scared," Barry said softly, thinking of that tiny, trembling body in his arms. "I couldn't just shove her away."

"That's what the EMT said," Iris confirmed. "She kept giggling about it, actually. Said you looked absolutely panicked when she tried to take the girl and the girl started screaming."

"How old is she?" Barry asked.

Iris's smile softened. "Katie Conner just turned three last week."

Unable to resist, Barry flipped to the second page where the photo showed him holding the girl, both facing the camera, with her little Barry the Bunny doll clearly visible tucked into her arm. That must have been taken as he was passing the girl to her father (though the man wasn't in the shot) as Katie had a big grin on her face. To his surprise, his own face was just a bit blurred though his relieved smile could be discerned.

"It's a bit blurry," Barry commented, touching the photo just so. Iris grinned at him and reached for her pocket and pulling out a smaller image on proper photo paper. She stood and handed it to him.

"The original isn't," she offered. He looked at the photo. Iris pressed a hand to his shoulder, then left without a word.

Only when he was alone did Barry finally let loose a small grin.

So this was mostly an excuse to write 'the Flash interacts with a little kid while on duty,' but it's kinda based on something that really happened and Katie is partially based on my great-nephew. Last summer, my niece and I lived a few blocks from each other and a few blocks from downtown in a good sized city. As an excuse to spend time together and get a little exercise, we would meet up and take her boys, ages two and four, on walks playing Pokemon Go!

Both boys had a habit of climbing in and out of her jogging stroller as we walked, so we tended to stick to the edges of downtown and got plenty of exercise chasing them around wide sidewalks and deserted streets. One Friday night, we were cutting through a busy section when the two year old suddenly launched himself from the stroller and bolted straight into a busy street. Thankfully, there were two of us as his mother was too busy catching his brother to grab him too.

It was a near miss. I can only imagine what could have happened if traffic had been moving a little faster or if I'd been walking on the other side of the stroller and hadn't been able to grab him so quickly. The end result was a mildly sprained ankle for me, a slightly bruised elbow for little Roland, and one very startled Lexus driver who was driving blessedly slower than the speed limit and had very good brakes.

I can only say, thank God for attentive drivers and shatterproof phone cases that don't notice when they're flung carelessly onto the sidewalk.

Oh, and I completely made up Barry the Bunny. It sounded cutely alliterative and I thought it was funny in context. If Barry the Bunny really exists somewhere, kudos to that writer/creator.