A/N: Drabble 8 for my Flash season 5 Countdown. I hope you enjoy! (This is the last of my countdown fics I'll be posting - for s5 premiere countdown at least - since the others were too short to be considered standalones by my standards).

Based off the line: "Let me be your Flash." (requested by my girl, Ruthie, on tumblr!)

*Many thanks to sendtherain for beta'ing.

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

Iris was grumpy.

No matter where she looked, the Flash was saving the day. She got alerts on her phone. It was the story everywhere when she watched TV or entered a magazine website. It was definitely the top priority at CCPN.

And she knew this was a good thing. It meant there was no big bad around if all crimes were being stopped by Flash within the day, sometimes within the hour.

And okay, the sex was great. When Barry came home strutting like a peacock because he had saved everyone he set out to and was being praised nonstop for it, he was very sure of him sexually, and he made sure she knew it by pleasuring her until she couldn't breathe.

Yet somehow, despite all of this, Iris was grumpy.

She wasn't grumpy because he was saving people. She didn't want those people deprived of rescue or for Barry deprived of victory. He wanted to save people more than anything. He got a high from that alone, before the praise showered on him even set in.

And it wasn't even that he was too busy for her, because the crimes were so petty that they were dealt within five minutes or less.

But, and she knew this was selfish, she felt it was very unfair that everybody got the Flash all the time. He was her Flash. She was the one with the ring on her finger. She was the one he came home to every night. And yet everyone got him as their hero without having to do anything but be in danger.

That hardly seemed fair.

She knew it was her early pregnancy hormones causing all this extra unnecessary jealousy, but that really didn't matter in the long run. She still felt her feelings and was annoyed by what had caused them.

The front door opened and closed with a whoosh, announcing her husband's arrival before Iris could get out of her head and force herself into a better mood for him.

"Hey, Iris," he announced cheerfully, setting down a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. "I'm going to cook tonight," he said. "What do you think, Grandma Esther's noodles, or…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Grandma Esther's noodles?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Someone's in a good mood, she thought bitterly.

She didn't say a word, though. She would restrain any negativity from slipping past her lips for as long as she possibly could.

"Hey, Iris?" he called out, the teasing lilt still in his voice. It irritated the hell out of her.

She said nothing. You can do this, Iris. Get your act together.

"Irisss?" He sped over, grinning from ear to ear.

She clenched her jaw. Don't do it. Say nothing.

He frowned, and she knew she'd ruined it.

Even by not speaking you manage to ruin it, she chided herself. Good job, Iris. Everyone else is praising his name, but you upset the city's hero by being cranky that you have to share him.

"Iris, is something wrong?" he asked, crouching down beside her.

She tensed, telling herself not to lose her cool if he decided to touch her.

"No," she forced out, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" He reached out for her hand, but she snapped it away just in time, making his eyes widen in surprise. "Iris…are you ma…did I do something?"

Well, now she felt terrible. He was probably scrambling around trying to think of something he'd done recently that must've upset her.

Counting to three incredibly slowly, she finally let a sigh slip out of her – one designed to soothe her, not rile her up.

"No, Barry." She turned to look at him. "You didn't do anything. I'm not mad at you."

It was clear he didn't quite believe her, but he decided to run with it.

"Okay…then who are you mad at?"

She watched him for a while, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. Then, without warning, she burst into tears. It was so unexpected that for a moment Barry didn't even move. He quickly recovered though and sat next to her on the couch, holding her in his arms and rocking her gently.

"Iris, what's wrong? Talk to me."

He was so gentle and eager to subdue any hurt she was feeling that she felt bad for being mad. His tactic was working too. Peace started to wash over her in waves. She felt so safe in his arms.

"I don't like having to share you," she admitted after a while, sniffling.

"What?" He continued rocking her, brushing his hand over her long locks.

"I don't like having to share you," she spat, irritated she had to repeat herself and pulling back because of it. But not too far. She needed him close to her now.

He fought to keep his lips from twitching.

"Who are you sharing me with?" he asked.

She huffed. "Everybody!" Her arms flailed about.

His brows furrowed. "Who's everybody?"

"Everybody that needs saving!" she exclaimed, as if it should've been obvious. "You are everybody's hero, everybody's Flash, and what did they do to deserve it? Get themselves in trouble? Be targeted as a victim? I have been your best friend for more than half our lives. We're married. You come home to me. I should not have to share you with anybody." She huffed.

"So…you don't want me to save people?"

She sighed. "No, of course you must save them. They can't save themselves," she said, annoyed.

Now he did laugh, but he also cradled her face in his hand and looked at her adoringly.

"Oh, Iris." She refused to look at him. "Let me be your Flash."

Her eyes landed on his. "What?"

"Let me be your Flash," he said, moving his face closer until his breath mingled with hers. "Please?"

She didn't know what to say to that. Obviously, he would save her when she was in danger. And she didn't want to be in danger suddenly just so he could say he was hers. Sex was a given; she knew that too. But his proximity, his gentleness, and the way his hand covered her barely-there baby bump made her melt in every way, from the romance, from the sensuality riding off of him in waves, from how protective he was of her and how he could be anywhere right now but he was choosing to be with her.

"You'll be my Flash?" she asked softly, hoping he wouldn't make fun of her.

He didn't.

"Your Flash," he promised. "Your Flash first and always and completely. All yours."

She sighed happily and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as she lay back against the couch, kissing him first and again and again. After a while, she snuggled against him, content to just cuddle and grateful for his long arms that he could pull at a nearby blanket to toss over both of them.

"'m sorry I'm so grumpy, Barry," she murmured against him.

He smiled again her.

"Not grumpy," he said, though she knew that was a lie. "Just possessive."

She opened one eye at that, and then the other.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm." He assured, then kissed her again. "Just the way I like you."

He couldn't possibly mean he preferred her the way she'd been acting when he walked in the door, but she was too tired to argue anymore. If he said he liked her cranky and decided to label it something else that sounded more appealing, who was she to tell him not to?

"Mmm…the way I like you too."

Possessive, she meant of course. Who wanted their significant other cranky?

Silence descended until she remembered something.

"You're still making Grandma Esther's noodles, right?"

He laughed, nuzzled her briefly, kissed a spot on her neck and started untangling himself from her.

"Of course," he said amidst her protests. "As fast as I can."

She didn't like that his body heat was suddenly gone, but he stuffed pillows around her small form and tossed a couple more blankets on, and soon she was fast asleep.

When she woke up dinner was ready, and she remembered how much she loved her husband, and that maybe, sometimes, she could be generous enough to share him with the people of Central City who need saving.