"…like your son. Barry Allen: my pawn, my rook, my knight…He still has many roles to play…"

Fourth Mirror:
Gambit
The sacrifice, usually of a pawn, to gain an early advantage

The county sectionals Science Fair was a tedium that Wells, as the state's foremost scientist, was obligated to attend despite having no time for such an insult to genuine science. Often too full of moneyed, influential and ambitious parents who had overseen every aspect of "their child's" science project and presided over by judges too stupid to know what true talent, true scientific curiosity looked like.

This year did at least have something of interest: Barry Allen had won both his high school science fair and then the regional to gain his place here. His project,

Determining Optimal Weather Conditions for Forensics, was decidedly undergraduate yet did show promise and Wells had witnessed, via Gideon's cameras, its entire inception and birth.

But he had…other…reasons for coming here.

Wells stopped at a project adjacent to Barry's table and made a show of reading the materials as he secretly observed the boy and his companions.

Becky Cooper was with Barry. They were laughing together which Joe and Becky's grandmother, Violet, tolerated with indulgent smiles. No doubt they thought the pair of fifteen year olds cute, that their interactions were sweet and young and largely innocent and never realising that six weeks ago their relationship had strayed far beyond the boundaries expected of them.

Wells knew, though, because he had watched them, curled together on the sofa in Joe's house, talking of their fathers. Becky's dad was half the country away, going through chemotherapy and Barry had listened and more importantly understood what it was to worry about an absent parent. The kisses were comfort at first, arms holding tightly to console but then they just…didn't stop.

"If you have any questions, sir," a bright voice intruded on his thoughts, "I'm sure our Lizzie can answer them. Lizzie, why don't you explain your project to Mr…" Her eyes lit on the name badge pinned to Wells' chest and all but bulged out, "oh Doctor Wells! Lizzie, you must speak to Dr Wells! He runs STAR labs."

Wells stifled as much annoyance as he could and turned his attention to the small plump girl looking nervously up at him as if he, a complete and utter stranger, had the power to provide, or deny, her the parental approval that she needed. And glancing at the sharp eyed woman standing far too close to him, he guessed he did.

Lizzie did her best to explain work that she probably did the colouring in for and Wells did his best to look interested. It seemed an equable exchange for the use of a very good vantage point to wait until Becky was sufficiently isolated.

That opportunity came sooner than he expected.

Joe and Violet had been standing a little to one side, drinking vending machine coffee, and talking when their attention was drawn to a flying drone, zipping around and they moved to follow it. Barry was deeply in conversation with an official and Becky, clearly bored, had wandered a few tables down.

"Thank you, Lizzie, that was very…informative. I do like to keep my eye on talent. But if you will excuse me…"

Lizzie's mother made some simpering noises and gushed over the privilege to talking to him, words that mumbled away in the background as he focused on Becky.

She was sipping at her own coffee, moving aimlessly from table to table. This would, he decided, be far easier than he ever dreamed.

Stopping at her side, he waited a moment before asking, "are you one of the students?"

"No, I, um, I'm here because of my boyfriend," she replied, straightening up as if being addressed by a teacher and moving the cup down by her side. It was nicely out of sight. Perfect.

"He has a project?"

"Yeah, he has a great project." She sounded genuine. "It's forensic science. You should see it."

"I'm sure I will." Wells watched the coffee cup dangle careless from her fingers. "And you've never considered entering yourself?" He carefully, discretely removed a tiny vial from his cufflink. "The world of science needs more women."

She blushed. "I'm… I guess you could say that I like science but it doesn't really like me. I mean, I get OK grades and everything, but science fairs…" she shrugged. "They're not for me."

Wells palmed the little vial, working the lid off with his thumb and as if fate was truly on his side today, something whizzed over his head. "That flying drone is really something, isn't it?" He said.

Predictably the girl looked up at the ceiling. Under the cover of shifting position to better view the plane, Wells tipped the vials contents into Becky's coffee.

"Yeah, it's amazing," she agreed, but clearly only out of politeness.

"Well, I should probably go check that out." Wells said. "It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, you too." Becky said and took a swallow of coffee.

888

Wells watched Becky return to Barry's table and curl her arm possessively around his waist and smile smugly at the pretty girl he was explaining his project to, an entirely unsubtle declaration of Barry's unavailability. She continued to drink her coffee.

She'd feel the effects within 15 minutes and once that small window of time had passed; there was no going back, nothing to stop it. The girl was neither unkind nor stupid, just young and in love, and in truth, Wells bore her no ill will. And yet he held no regrets about his actions, no remorse.

Wells began a slow circuit of the hall, walking between the tables, dodging around the people, watching…waiting…feeling the minutes tick by. His eyes found Barry Allen on numerous occasions but did not linger long.

Barry Allen…in one glance talking to Joe, in other engaging the officials and judges… And finally, bending down to talk a young boy who was staring at his project and when he made the child laugh, something stabbed sharply in Wells' gut.

And then, as he drew up next to Barry, close enough that they could have a conversation if he wanted, he saw over the boy's narrow shoulder, Becky wincing and turn to grip the table edge for support.

It was done.

If Wells had expected to feel any remorse – and he did not, this course of action was completely justified – then seeing her, talking to her, would certainly have extinguished any doubts.

Barry's future would no longer be tied to this unsuitable partner and to the unfortunate offspring they'd carelessly and unknowingly created six weeks ago and he could focus on getting stronger, faster…

"Barry?" He heard Becky say. "I feel really strange."

Barry was immediately at her side, slipping his arms around her, and she leaned heavily on him as he told her, "let's go sit down."

She would begin bleeding soon and cramping shortly after as her body rejected the foetus that was in all likelihood dying at this very moment as its placental blood supply clotted and stopped. Becky would probably never know what was lost.

But Wells knew and as he turned away from the couple, he felt something that was strangely, vaguely…loss.