It is already past ten when Barry checks the clock above the entrance to his lab again. He keeps staring at it with an annoyed and accusing frown as if it was the clock's fault that he's already this late, and as soon as he realizes what he is doing he decides that he needs a break.

Tiredly, he gets up onto his feet and stretches, relieving some of the tension in his back and neck. Spending hours on the ground is probably not the best thing you can do for yourself, even if you haven't reached the twenty-five year mark yet.

Still, Barry likes to sit on the ground while going through files; it offers more space and he can arrange the papers around him in his own way of categorisation. Martin finds it funny and doesn't mind as long as he isn't bothering the others. Melton writes it up as one of his many odd quirks, but neither he nor Baxter have a problem with it, so Barry usually ends up like this whenever Rodriguez and Carton aren't around.

He rolls his head, trying to relief the pressure in his shoulders and neck a bit more as he studies the multitude of papers arranged around him on the floor.

The Finn's case is from the early nineties and has been put to rest for over two decades. With new evidence coming up and a change in one of the witnesses' statements, it had been reopened about a month ago and handed over to Barry.

He rubs his eyes as he steps out of the ring pf papers and notes, careful not move anything out of its place.

Baxter had left around half past eight, which makes him the only one in the lab right now. There are still enough people around as the PD never really settles down at any given hour of the day. He can see cops pass by about every other minute through the glass window of the slightly ajar entrance door, and he thinks about making a quick trip downstairs to see whether Joe is up for a small coffee break.

Taking a sip of his by-now stale coke resting on the counter next to him, he decides that he will do just that.

At least, that is what he intends to do before a soft knock causes him to look over at the door again.

He freezes and his eyes widen and for a second. He's certain that all the long nights and little sleep from last week are finally taking their toll on him and that he is seeing things now.

"Mr Allen," greets Dr Wells with a nod after Barry has failed to say anything or even move. There is a slight amused glint in his eyes as he pushes the door further open and enters the lab. "I hope I am not disturbing anything important?"

Barry gives himself a shake. "N-no, y-you… n-not at all, I… I w-was…"

His face turns a familiar shade of crimson and so Barry halts for a moment to take a quick calming breath. He coughs lightly, nervously glancing down at the papers of the Finn's case before he looks back to the doctor and goes on once more.

"No, I was just ab-bout to t-take a break anyway."

Why couldn't he talk like this from the beginning? Why does he always have to make a complete idiot out of himself?

"Good, I don't want to bother you while you're busy." Wells watches him with this amused little smile of his that he always seems to get whenever Barry demonstrates how amazing he is at putting his own foot in his mouth. There is nothing taunting about it, though.

The doctor lets his gaze briefly move to the ground next to him and quirks an eyebrow at the papers scattered there.

"It helps m-me th-think," Barry explains, even though Wells hasn't said anything. He knows that it has to look rather weird.

Wells only hums in response, eyeing the papers for a moment longer before turning back to him with a slight smile that quickly becomes a frown when he notices his unease.

"I don't think this is such an unconventional thing to do, Mr Allen," he tells him earnestly. "Different people have different ways of approaching problems, and the only important thing is that they solve them in the end."

It is an oddly reassuring thing to be told. Barry knows that, of course, but he also knows that many of his colleagues think that he is a rather strange fellow for it.

… Well, this and his obsession with spreading post-it-notes all over his workspace.

"I have to say, I am a little surprised to meet you here at this time," Wells goes on after a moment when Barry says nothing in response:" I guess that you are the only one still here in the lab?"

"Yes, th-the others have alr-ready left. Did you need something from Martin?"

"No, I just had a brief talk with your captain and was on my way out when I noticed that the lights were still on up here," explains the other man, shrugging slightly. "I was just curious."

"Oh," Barry nods, not really sure what else to say. He is all too aware of the fact that this is the first time since he's met Dr Wells over half a year ago that they are in a room alone together and it leaves him nervous and unsure what to say. He awkwardly changes his weight from one foot to the other.

"You've said that you are intending to take a break?" Wells meets his slightly wary, slightly hopeful look with a small but very much amused smile. Barry knows that there is no way in hell that the man hasn't picked up on his stupid little crush by now – Was it even really a crush or did he just fancy him? Was there even a difference? Damn, he is behaving like a teenager all over again!

"Y-yes," he affirms. "I w-was just about to see what Joe is doing and w-whether he wants to take one as well. He's having a late shift tonight and he usually gets lost in his work, so it's up to me or Ch-Chyre to make sure he isn't overd-doing it. Iris always …"

Yes, go on babbling, just make it even more obvious how nervous you are, because this situation isn't awkward enough just yet, thinks Barry, frustrated, as he forces himself to stop. His face heats up in the very familiar sensation of a blush and he averts his eyes.

A brief but very uncomfortable silence follows and he can feel Dr Wells' eyes on him, which gives him goosebumps.

"I'm starting to understand why Detective West is so fond of you, Mr Allen."

Barry turns back to the other man in surprise. Wells meets his gaze evenly.

"Uh…," he licks his lips and laughs, a bit embarrassed. "H-he is a g-good man, one of th-the best I know."

Something crosses Wells' expression; it is gone too quickly for Barry to be able to pick up on it, though.

"I am not surprised," Wells replies with a smile that seems somewhat off, "and I don't want to keep you from taking your break…"

He suddenly sounds a bit more aloof than just a second ago and Barry gets the absurd notion that the other man could be… envious? Of Joe?

No way…

"You aren't," Barry swallows and tries to ignore the sudden embarrassment that he feels as he goes on. "And y-you are also a g-good man. A g-great m-man, actually."

This causes Wells to lift an eyebrow again and study him curiously for a moment. Barry is suddenly hit by the realization that he could have completely misinterpreted the other man's reaction and that he's made an utter fool of himself. Again.

Then, a slow smile takes over Wells' lips and it seems both honest once more and quite pleased.

"Why, thank you, Mr Allen," he jests in good humour, which causes Barry to blush and duck his head in embarrassment.

"J-just saying how it i-is."

"I appreciate your kind words, but I am certain that most people would choose quite a different vocabulary to describe me."

Barry looks back at him with a frown. "You d-do a lot of g-good for the c-city. If people can't ap-preciate it, then that's their p-problem."

"Aren't you just a treat for an old man's ego?" chuckles Wells. Barry feels the urge to point out that he isn't an old man yet but stays quiet because, at least in comparison to himself, it is a rather fitting description. Wells is a bit more than double his age and… well, it is quite an age gap.

That thought is a bit disconcerting.

"I know that you are quite busy with your work," Wells goes on after a brief pause, "but I was wondering whether you would be interested in passing by at S.T.A.R. Labs next Sunday. We are holding a science conference about alternative energy sources there and it offers quite some insight into future technology."

This comes quite unexpectedly. Barry just stares at the other man for a long moment, taken aback by the invitation to what has to be equal to a high-society event when it comes to the science world. He has heard of it of course—or, to be more accurate, read about it in some science journal a while ago. And while it has aroused his curiosity, he has never really wasted any time on even playing with the notion of attending it. The only people who would be there would be the ones who were able to make big names for themselves. Either that, or they would have the necessary money to promise potential funding. Clearly not someone like himself.

At least, he has thought so, so far.

"B-but isn't that l-like a c-closed event? I m-mean, I've r-read th-that n-not even the m-media is al-lowed inside the p-presentation hall."

The military would also be there and, as usual, whenever they came out play, everything would be all hush-hush. Some speculated that CC's S.T.A.R. Labs had been chosen for this event because they were onto the next big thing when it came to alternative and clean energy, and that they were actually already working on something in this direction.

"That is correct," agrees Wells and there is a tightness to his expression as he does so that makes it rather obvious that he isn't really a big fan of the hype surrounding his laboratory, "but you would be my guest, and seeing that I am the host of this event, that shouldn't be a problem." An amused glint returns to his eyes as he studies Barry with a fake frown. "At least as long as you promise me that you won't sell any of what you will learn in there to the highest bidding journalists afterwards, Mr Allen."

Barry laughs, feeling nervous, incredulous, and delighted all at the same time. He can't believe that this is really happening to him.

"N-no, of course not, Dr Wells."

"Good."

Again, Wells appears oddly pleased, and Barry wonders whether he has had this in mind for a while now or whether this invitation had been a rather spontaneous thing. It doesn't really matter. He is going to attend one of the biggest events the scientific society has to offer this year and the notion itself is still nearly blowing his mind.

"Th-thank you-"

Barry breaks off when he notices another person turning up behind Wells through the window on his still slightly ajar door. Joe enters just a second later, a slight frown in place as his gaze falls upon Dr Wells. Barry feels his stomach drop.

"H-hey, J-Joe," he greets and hopes the man would stop giving his 'I know there is something fishy about you' look to the scientist. For whatever reason, his older friend didn't seem to like Wells all that much. Especially whenever he was around Barry.

"Barry," Joe turns to him with an expression that is both concerned and slightly reproachful, and while Barry knows that he has done nothing wrong, he can't help but feel a familiar sense of guilt well up inside his chest, "I was just passing by to see whether you would like to take a small break but I see you have already company."

"That's alright," interjects Wells before Barry can try to explain the situation. "I have to leave now, anyway, and I think Mr Allen was just about to go and look for you for the exact same reason, Detective West."

He turns back to Barry and gives him a small but warm smile. "I will make sure that you get an invitation within the next couple of days."

"Ok-kay." Barry knows that he probably looks like a small kid whom had just been promised chocolate, but he can't help it.

"Have a nice evening, Mr Allen." Wells looks over to Joe and nods. "Mr West."

Barry utters a goodbye and watches the other man leave as a warm, but not uncomfortably so, feeling settles into his belly.

So, this really just happened…

He notices that Joe is watching him and suddenly realizes that he is grinning, probably like an idiot.

"Uh, so, you w-wanna g-grab some coffee?"

Joe snorts and, to Barry's surprise, gives him a fond look.

"I know that you like him, Barry, and you are probably the last person who needs me to butt into your private life, but be careful, okay?" the older cop tells him, and while he is keeping his tone light the seriousness behind his words is hard to miss. "I have a bad feeling about this man."

"He is a g-good man, Joe," argues Barry, but only half-heartedly, because while his friend's worry may be unfounded – and a bit annoying – he knows that Joe is only trying to look out for him. He really appreciates that.

Joe studies him for moment longer before sighing lowly and shaking his head. "You kids and your inability to take your elder's advice..."

Barry chuckles and crosses his arms. "B-because you were any d-different wh-when you were my age?"

"Of course, I was the picture-perfect definition of an obedient son," agrees his friend easily. Barry rolls his eyes in fake exasperation.

"W-well, in that case I can only hope that, one day, I w-will reach the b-bar you've set for me and the r-rest of us young folks, J-Joe."

"Are you calling me old, Allen?"

"I would n-never," Barry assures with a cheeky grin, which causes Joe to bark out a laugh.

"The youth these days..."

"S-seriously, we are j-just horrible, aren't we?"

Joe chuckles and watches Barry for a moment with a fondness that always makes him feel better, no matter how crappy his day has been up until then.

"I guess you could be worse," amends his friend before he nods to the door. "You still want to grab a cup of coffee? Simmons has just made a fresh pot and you know us cops, as soon as we smell fresh coffee we make short business of it."

"S-sure," agrees Barry, but halts after taking a step when he notices that Joe hasn't moved yet despite his earlier words. Instead, his expression has become more thoughtful again.

"I am serious about Wells, Barry. Just be careful around him, okay?"

It is odd, realizing how concerned Joe actually is about Dr Wells, and a bit upsetting too because a part of Barry wants to tell him to stop, that the scientist is a good man. The truth is, though, he hardly knows anything about Dr Wells other than what he has learned in books or papers, and Joe is usually quite good at judging people.

Nobody is always right, though.

"I will," agrees Barry and he means it.

Joe searches his gaze for a second longer before his demeanour relaxes somewhat and his expression lightens again.

"I know you will, Barry, you are a clever kid."

"I am not a k-kid," he grumbles, but Joe only chuckles and finally turns to leave the room.

Barry follows close behind.