A/N: Un-betaed. Read at your own risk.


CCPD was in chaos.

Officers of all ranks were bustling all over the main lobby—answering the ringing phones, scrutinizing over the news on the TV, rushing up and down the stairs while carrying stacks of papers or boxes evidences, fending off the crazy reporters outside—in short, Scarlet Ripper's latest stunt had shaken them.

It was a figurative rain of fire on the law enforcement when the city's infamous serial killer left a stack of evidences against the State Attorney's son whom they had sworn to be innocent during those trials of rape accusations.

It was the worst insult to the integrity of law.

CCPD was in complete chaos.

Barry has been standing here for a good ten minutes and nobody seemed to notice that he was there.

Not that he minded. It was all too amusing and funny to see these officers scrambling around—some of them didn't even bother to control themselves from openly cursing the Scarlet Ripper.

Scarlet Ripper, who was standing right here at the entrance of CCPD's main lobby, right under their collective noses.

Barry wondered if he was just that good at his night job, or everyone at CCPD was an idiot.

It's not that they didn't have a clear picture of his serial killer alias. He had messed up once when he first started out—still being a noob at the hacking thing because Smoak was not as good as she thought when it came to teaching people—and the security camera managed to capture his face, hence leading to people recognizing his scarlet trench coat and prompting Iris to coin his alias in her article. Sure, Barry sprayed his hair to dirty blonde, styled it to haphazard bedhead look and wore a mask and an earring when he was out as Scarlet Ripper….but Photoshop was a thing you know? One of them should have bound to notice the resemblance.

It wasn't surprising that Iris was the only one who has noticed the resemblance.

She was attentive and sharp, observant and daring—so unlike the detectives of CCPD. Barry still remembered the first time he met her, when she chased after him through the darkness of the snowy Christmas night—the impossible height of her stiletto heels did not stop her from catching up with him. He almost got caught that night, unable to use his planned escape routes due to her quick thinking to suggest a blockade plan to the police. It was so close, and Barry was only able to escape the close call because the Flash just happened to visit this Earth and zipped his ass away.

If Joe had allowed Iris to go to police academy, and she graduated to be an officer, Barry would've had a constant hard time evading capture, no matter how many super-powered villains from Dark Earth he had in his speed dial.

Though, it still didn't stop him from playing with the fiery fire of Iris West as he agreed to her invitation for a coffee a week after that, right after the new year break.

The thrill of being so near to the woman who almost caught him had made him easily agreed to her requests for interviews, despite the nagging voice at the back of his head which told him that it was a bad idea to involve himself with that one reporter who was dead set on investigating his night-time alter ego. It must be a villain thing—to have that undeniable urge to get to know the nemesis who was obsessed to put him behind bars.

Then, his path crossed with the heroes, as he fought against Frost on one of his night-out, and he just happened to hear her voice coming from Frost's comms.

Iris West suddenly became even more interesting then.

He said more 'yes' to her whenever she invited him out for a more casual coffee, the interviews got even less as they started talking about completely random things until the professional meetings suddenly changed to coffee dates.

The Flash had noticed his growing interest towards Iris and warned him that it was a bad idea—the speedster was talking from experience, having once been engaged to another version of Iris—but Barry heeded his doppelganger no attention.

He had fallen for her.

And he fell hard.

It was indeed a bad idea.

"Dr. Allen!"

Barry immediately schooled his face to a pleasant smile when the captain strode across the room towards him—the man looked dishevelled and exhausted despite it was barely past lunch hour as he offered his hand to shake Barry's own.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," Singh said, his words came out in a half-wheeze, as if he just finished running a marathon. "We're a bit busy here…," he gave Barry a tight smile, half-turning his body away to lead Barry to his office. "The media is hounding our ass."

Barry let his smile slipped to an amused smirk for a split second before he quickly changed his expression to an impersonation of sunshine.

"I saw the news," he simply commented, amused that he was led into the captain's office rather than the usual interrogation room. "You're in a tight spot."

Singh sighed but gave him a smile anyway. "We will cope," he said, motioning Barry to sit on the chair while he took his own. "Thank you for coming so quickly, even with your injury…," he trailed off, eyeing the bandages wrapped around Barry's head with concerned eyes before quickly squaring his shoulders, more formal now. "We just need you to recount the events of Mr. Woodward's assault on you that night, and if there is anything else that you noticed that could help our investigation."

"Of course," Barry shrugged and smiled pleasantly. "I'm happy to help the police."

There was a sharp knock before the office's door opened, and entered a female officer who instantly closed the door as soon as she walked in.

"Detective Spivot," Singh greeted, motioning to a seat next to him. "Have a seat."

"Captain, Dr. Allen," she greeted once she was seated, nodding towards them in acknowledgement, her form was rigid and professional, and the shine in her eyes were focused when Singh motioned her to start. She looked straight into Barry's eyes, pen ready to scribble on her notepad as she spoke. "Dr. Allen, can you recount the assault on you that happened Thursday night last week? Starting from the beginning."

"I left my office around eleven," Barry started, amused at her rigid professionalism. "And spend a few minutes to chat with Grant and Thomas—the night guards of the day—before heading to my car at the parking lot," he paused, pretending to recall the events despite having perfect memory on what had happened. "I was putting my students' assignments at the passenger seat when I was attacked."

"Do you see your attacker?"

"Yes."

"Can you describe the assault?"

"He, uh, pulled me out of the car, and punched me in the guts. I get to see his face then before I was hit and blacked out."

"And you recognize your attacker as one of your students, Mr. Tony Woodward?"

"Technically, he is not in my class, therefore not one of my students. But, yes, it was him."

"Is he alone? Do you see anyone else with him? Or anything that might indicate someone else was there on the scene?"

Barry paused for a moment, brows knitted together, pressing two fingers over his temple like he was trying to remember, squeezing his eyes shut as if the attempt to remember has hurt his head. He must have looked convincing, because Singh stretched his arm to the side, motioning Spivot to stop, the captain's brows furrowed in concern.

"Dr. Allen?" Singh asked, voice laced with concern. "Are you okay? Should we stop?"

Barry waved him away assuringly. "I'm sorry," he quirked a weak smile, glossing over the illusion of being the poor victim here. "It's okay, I can go on," he assured when Singh opened his mouth to protest. He then shifted his gaze to Spivot, "I think he is alone…," he said, faking hesitance. "I only saw him before he knocked me out," he frowned. "And by the time I come to my senses, he is gone."

"Do you notice anything off?" Spivot asked, this time her voice was less rigid and more concerned. "Like someone else in the parking lot, or anything that is out of ordinary?"

"I….," Barry took his sweet time pretending to recall his memories before shaking his head. "I don't think so…," he trailed off, before his mind decided to mess with the police. "The only weird thing that I could remember was…like, just before I completely blacked out…I felt a gush of sudden breeze and saw…lightnings…?" he trailed his voice softer near the end, faking confusion, while internally holding back a barrage of laughter as both Spivot and Singh paled upon his words. "But I was hit on the head and was pretty much almost out of it that time…," he gave them a sheepish grin. "I might have been seeing things…"

Singh and Spivot exchanged a glance.

Barry knew what they were thinking.

No. They did not think that he was seeing things.

The police were still scared and terrified of speedsters after Zoom's reign of terror last year. The whole CCPD was accustomed to associate unexplained gush of breeze and lightnings with speedsters. And since Team Frost and few officers of CCPD including Singh have been secretly exchanging information under the pretence of protecting the city, Barry knew that Joe had informed them about his and Savitar's outing the other day.

They would be in a more panicked state at the knowledge of Scarlet Ripper having a speedster as an ally.

Though, they didn't seem to want to share that information with a mere civilian like Dr. Allen, so both of them gave Barry a tight smile and nodded understandingly. Spivot closed her notepad while Singh stood, offering his hand towards Barry, signalling the end of the session.

"Thank you for your help, Dr. Allen," Singh said, voice slightly trembling but he masked it well. "Do inform us if you remember anything else."

Barry grasped Singh's hand and gave the captain a beaming smile. "It's always a pleasure to help," he nodded at both police officers. "And I will inform you if I remember anything else."

Barry only dropped his facade when he was in his car, resting his forehead against the steering wheel as he giggled in amusement. He was honestly enjoying messing with the police so much, it was such a hilarious entertainment.

Though, what he didn't expect was to hear the passenger seat door of his car being opened and closed. And before he could even lift his head to look at the intruder, a cold hand pressed against his head, the cold felt soothing and amazing against his injury. He lifted his head up and glanced to the passenger seat, only to be greeted with the taunting smirk on Caitlin Snow's face.

Barry quirked a smirk too, recognizing the malicious shine in those brown eyes.

"Hey, Killer," he tipped his head, his smirk grew when her eyes switched to merciless white. "Come to see my new masterpiece?"

This was not the same Caitlin Snow who chased after him this morning, nor was she the same Frost that he leant against last Thursday.

This was Killer Frost, the Flash's first doctor and his best friend.

"I'm delivering more blood samples for you," Killer Frost said, lips curled to a taunting smirk. "Savitar said that you didn't get to take some on your own."

Barry rolled his eyes. "Barry snapped and caused a city-wide black-out," he huffed in annoyance. "It's difficult to draw blood from him when he gone crazy. And it was difficult for me to work on my masterpiece in the middle of darkness that he caused."

"Not like it stops you from completing your masterpieces," she commented, uncaring. "And you're getting sloppy, Rip," she hummed, pressing her hand more against his bandages and he found himself sighing as his eyes fluttered close, leaning to her soothing touch. "There was a drop of blood on the kid's shirt," she grinned, eyes darting to his bandaged head. "It could have been your blood."

"I noticed," Barry hummed, remembering the droplet of blood he saw in the pictures that Joe brought to cortex earlier of the morning.

He admitted that it was a mistake of his part, not realising that the little scuffle he had when Woodward had fought back had reopened one of his stitches, and a drop of his blood dripped on the kid's shirt. He had washed and dried the clothes like he usually did, but he didn't notice that the stain didn't wash away. He only realised his slip when he watched Frost scrutinized that picture with immense concentration.

It was a good thing that he has his speedster doppelganger on speed dial.

"I trust Savitar to already clean it up by now."

"He is not happy you disturb his sleeping schedule, you know?" she cackled, before her tone turned firmer. "And for fuck's sake, stop flirting with my doppelganger."

"Aw, come on," he murmured, opening one eye to look at her, his smirk was teasing. "Caitlin Snow is cute, and the Frost is adorable."

She glared at him, but her hand remained on his head as he nuzzled closer to her palm.

"If you dare to associate Killer Frost with any of those two adjectives…," she growled, ice mist forming at the tips of her sharp manicured fingers, making him leant away from her hand.

"Nah, Killer. You're nowhere near the cuteness level of your heroic doppelganger."

She smirked fondly, and gave his shoulder a light punch. "You ass."

Barry smirked. "If it's any consolation, I think your sadistic streak is sexy."

"Charming, Ripper," Killer Frost rolled her eyes, huffing coldly. "This is why you only have one girlfriend in your 28 years of life. And even then, you murdered her."

"Ouch, that hurts," Barry mocked an insulted look before his face fell to a solemn poker face as he reversed his car out of the parking space and started driving off. "Why are you here, though? Surely you aren't worried of me, right?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Rip."

"Aww, Killer. You broke my heart."

"Your charms will only work on my goody-two-shoes doppelganger, Dr. Allen."

"Because you have no heart for me to charm."

"Having a heart is for weaklings."

Barry laughed but didn't argue as he sped his car till the scenery outside the tinted window was a blur of colours, all the while wishing he could breeze through his past like the way his car breezed past other cars. He wanted to leave his memories with Iris behind, wanting so bad to leave everything in the locked box of his past. Killer Frost was right. Having a heart is for weaklings.

He had learnt his lesson from the disaster with Iris after all.


Barry was getting better at handling the cortex.

Frost decided on that as she entered the calm dimness of Starlabs hallway after a long night of successful patrol.

It was just the three of them tonight—Barry, Frost and Cisco—because Lisa is staying at home to look after Len, Dr. Wells unfortunately caught a flu and was bedridden while Joe had to stay overtime at CCPD to deal with the after effects of Ripper's latest stunt. Barry has stubbornly insisted on handling the cortex, being bored to death since he was still banned from going to work. After listening to his assurance that he has been sleeping for the whole afternoon, Frost reluctantly agree to let him stay overnight to handle the cortex.

It was nice to hear his voice in her comms—a refreshing change, if you ask her.

Cisco has vibed her back to the Starlabs once they were done with the patrol, before he quickly went back home, mumbling something about catching up on Dr. Who's episodes. Frost had rolled her eyes at that, not really a fan of the series, preferring Games of Thrones instead. She was briefly wondering if Barry even had a favourite series when she entered the cortex and saw him staring blankly at the monitor.

She cocked an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar movement of cells infected with dark matters—only that this one was unlike any other meta-cells that she and Caitlin had studied. Oh, no. This was no ordinary meta, she was sure of it. Most other metas have traces of dark matter inside their cells, but this specimen he was looking at—the cells had merged with the dark matter. If other metahuman like her and Cisco only have a tiny portion of their biology been changed and altered by the dark matter, this specimen has completely merged with the dark matter.

It was like this person has been soaked inside a tub of dark matter rather than being exposed to its radiation, hence causing his cells to be completely altered. Frost would've thought that Barry was analysing an alien species if she didn't recognize the little familiar traits of metahuman cells on the screen.

"Whose blood sample is that?" she asked curiously, quirking a smirk when he jumped a bit as if she had startled him.

His movement was painstakingly slow when he turned around to face her, and even then, he was avoiding meeting her eyes and opted to stare at her ear instead.

As if she didn't know that he was employing that trick.

"I thought you went back home," he muttered.

"We have a lounge that we could crash in here," she shrugged, nonchalant. "Plus, Caitlin is going to take over soon anyway, and she wanted to do a little research."

"Oh," he breathed out, looking sheepish. "Sorry that I use your equipment," he said, tilting his head in the direction of Caitlin's little work station.

"Nah, we don't mind," Frost shrugged again, eyeing him with interest. "Whose blood is that?"

Barry remained silent.

"Barry?" she pressed on, pulling the chair beside him and sat there, her gaze landed on the screen and she couldn't help but feel awed at the rapid movement of the cells displayed on the screen.

She had never seen anything like this. It was from a blood sample, as she could recognize the shape of the blood cells, but it wasn't anything that she had ever seen. The cells moved rapidly, colliding with one another as if they were constantly buzzing with charged energy. She picked up the high reading of heat on the monitor, noting on the abnormal count of red and white blood cells in the sample and had to wonder if this specimen was even alive. No one could stand such high radiation of dark matter.

A human's body would be destroyed if it has been exposed to this level of radiation.

Frost shifted her gaze back to Barry, noting the hesitance on his face, the contemplative purse of his lips and the furrow of his brows, that she decided to lean back against her seat and waited for him to decide.

She hoped he decided to tell her.

Barry finally let out a sigh.

Frost instantly lean closer, noting the resigned look in his eyes.

"He is someone dear to me," he quirked a half-smile, shifting his gaze back to the monitor. "And he suffered so much…He was constantly in pain," he murmured, nodding towards the monitor. "I have tried to formulate painkillers to ease his pain, but his system just devoured everything."

"With this level of radiation in the cells?" Frost commented, jerking her chin to the monitor. "I'm amazed that he is even alive."

Barry laughed humourlessly. "He is a fighter."

"He is your brother. I don't expect anything less," she shrugged coolly, quirking a smirk when his bowed head snapped up to stare at her in surprise.

There was a beat of silence.

"How did you—"

"I'm not always asleep when Caitlin is awake you know?" she cut him off, her lips curled just slightly with a hint of smile. "I recall you telling her that you had lots of drugs at your disposal because you're trying to formulate a new painkiller for your other brother," she huffed, smirking cockily. "And the conversation in the car after the funeral? I heard it too."

"You shouldn't eavesdrop other people's conversation," he chided her, mocking the tone of a disappointed parent.

"It's not like you're making an effort to hide your conversation, doc."

Barry burst to a laughter.

"Fair enough," he admitted.

"Though, I do recall hearing you said that whatever that the kid is suffering is not related to his physiology," she commented, recalling Caitlin's memory of the phone conversation he had in his car after the funeral. "This is definitely related to physiology," she added, pointing to the monitor.

Barry cocked an eyebrow, amused. "First, he is turning 34, and trust me that he won't appreciate you calling him a kid. Second, you're mistaking a few things," he started, enlarging the tab that was displaying the analysis of the cells. "This radiation often plunges him into constant state of immense pain, but it shouldn't influence his brain activity," he explained, bringing out another tab, this time displaying brain scans of a person. "His doctor and I conducted all the tests that we could think of, and none showed that his altered cells could cause delusions or put him in a trance."

"Delusions?" Frost frowned.

"He occasionally retreated to this sort of trance that he was convinced that everyone is out to hurt him," he sighed, his face crestfallen. "It was bad because he turned defensively violent to anyone that tried to reach out for him when he was in that state. We managed to subdue him once, just long enough to run some tests on him," he sighed, slumping against the chair. "The result was the same with the time when he wasn't in that mind state."

Frost pursed her lips. That did sound like more of a mental problem rather than physical.

"And he is a meta, right?" she prompted, wondering how the hell they managed to subdue this man long enough to run tests on him. "A powerful meta, if his cells were any indicator. How did you even subdue him?" she frowned in disbelief.

Barry shrugged. "He has a soft spot on Savvi. And we have lots of super strong tranquilizer," he stated blankly, before letting out a long suffering sigh. "Not that it was enough to knock him out though."

Frost pursed her lips thoughtfully, contemplating to wake Caitlin up but then decided against it. She could do a decision on her own without consulting Caitlin.

"I can help you," she offered, scooting her chair closer. "Two brains are better than one, right?" she said tentatively, feeling so much like Caitlin right now and wondered what the fuck had happened to her that she was always softer around Barry's presence. "Three, counting Caitlin's brain, or even four, if your brother's doctor wanted to join in," she rolled her eyes, internally wincing at the fact that she was technically rambling stupid shit.

Barry stared at her for a long time before his lips quirked to a genuine warm smile.

"You're not so different as you think you are," he murmured, reaching a hand to brush her hair off her face. "Caitlin and Frost, you two are the two sides of the same coin," he said, his smile turned softer and gentler. "You are Caitlin and she is you."

Frost swallowed back the bile into her throat, remembering the different way people seemed to behave around her when Frost was dormant as compared to when Caitlin was dormant. People tended to be more cautious and on edge when they were around her but was more laidback and friendly whenever Caitlin was dormant. It was as if they were expecting her to randomly give them frost bites if they happened to offend her.

Sure, she jokingly implied that she would do that, but they should have known that she was joking right?

Oh, who was she kidding. They took her words seriously, and believe that she would snap and hurt them if they pissed her off. And not to mention her abnormally cold temperature that made standing near her required layers of sweater, even during summer. The team preferred Caitlin over Frost when it comes to offering assuring physical touch.

Iris and Len were exceptions to that, and occasionally Lisa too, but it still hurt to remember the warmth and comfort in Caitlin's memories but rarely receiving it as herself.

And now she was sure Barry was trying to replace Iris as her source of comfort.

"You do realise that I'm more violent than Caitlin, right?" she hissed, trying to not get distracted with the way he was gently tucking her hair behind her ear. "Isn't that a prominent difference?"

"Caitlin threatened to lobotomize me, while you threatened to ice my ass," he retorted, his teasing grin grew bigger when she scowled at him. "Both of you are equals—equally violent, equally smart, equally adorable, and equally terrifying."

Frost stared at him, blinking in disbelief. Did he just…?

"Is that how you flirt, doc?" Frost drawled, praying so hard that Caitlin didn't wake up to witness this because there was no way her softer side was going to let Frost live this down.

For once, someone said that she was an equal to Caitlin.

Frost didn't know how she was going to survive if anyone knew about this odd warmth that fluttered from her stomach to her chest.

Frost didn't do the whole butterflies in stomach thing, you know?

But for some unknown reason, she felt so happy and appreciated.

Barry shrugged, still smiling. "Is it working?"

Frost rolled her eyes and gave a light shove to his shoulder.

The action caused a sharp pain to spread out from her wrist to her hand. She hissed, shrugging off her blue jacket and dumping her gloves away as she stared at the swell on her wrist. She did feel the pain when she was thrown across the street by the crazy Hulk meta who was terrorizing the city earlier. She didn't have time to check whether it was really broken or just a sprain as she worked with Cisco to defeat the crazy meta, and by the time the meta got away, her adrenaline ran high that she didn't even notice the pain until she shoved him. Scowling, she conjured a ball of ice to sooth her pain, only to be shocked when Barry reached out to gently grasp her hand, his skin was incredibly warm to her cold ones.

"We need an X-ray," he said, handling her hand with immense care, eyes scrutinizing the swell—he was already in his doctor mode. "But I'm positive that it is a fracture that your healing rate could heal in a day," Barry nodded, standing up as he led her to the medbay.

Frost's lips curled to a smirk. "I usually treat my own wounds, you know?"

"Not on my watch, Frost," he grinned. "Now, let me have a look on your wrist."

Frost rolled her eyes again, but complied to his orders as he was treating her wrist. It was indeed a minor fracture, but since she was reckless and did not attend to her injury quickly, her fractured bones have shifted. Her injury has worsened that Barry needed to conduct a mini surgery to realign her fractured bones back. So, by the time he was done fixing her wrist, she has almost nodded off to sleep. Perhaps Barry had noticed her exhaustion too, because she ended up being carried bridal-style to the lounge next to the medbay and was placed on the couch, her bare feet soon were on his lap. She watched in confusion when Barry switched on the TV—he flicked through random channels before he settled on the morning news—and her confused frown grew even more when he draped the blanket over her mid-riff as he slumped his back against the soft furniture.

She didn't know what to think when he almost immediately be engrossed with the TV, though his hand moved all over her feet, giving her the foot rub she didn't expect to ever receive.

"Barry?" she called out, curling up against her side of the couch, not even paying attention to the TV.

Barry's hands on her feet were far too distracting for her to focus on anything else. It felt so good. After an eventful night of running and vibing across the city, sending kicks and punches and blasts of ice to crazy metahuman that disturbed the peace of her city—this unexpected foot rub was a god send.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not complaining, but why the sudden foot rub?"

He stiffened for a moment, his hands stopped massaging her feet. When he turned his face to look at her, he seemed embarrassed, cheeks dusted with the lightest tinge of pink.

"I…," he coughed, clearing his throat. "It's just…that, you know, you ran all over the city tonight, broke your wrist...and you looked so exhausted...," he shrugged, his voice getting softer, almost meek, "I remembered that Iris always enjoyed a foot rub after long day at work, so I think...," he gave out nervous laugh, his hands remained static on Frost's feet. "I think you deserve a foot rub," he coughed again, laughing, "I'm sorry. I should have asked."

Frost felt a pang of pain at the mention of Iris, guilt welled up in her chest as she heard the crack in his voice when he talked about Iris. There were too many things had happened after the funeral that have distracted Frost from mourning over her lost friend. Barry probably wouldn't have the same distraction, so she couldn't help but feel guilty upon hearing the longingness in his words when he shared his memory with Iris.

"Don't be sorry," Frost wriggled her toes, smirking playfully at him. "I'm totally not complaining, doc," she trailed, noting the amused quirk of his smile when he continued massaging her feet. "Go on. Pamper me with your heavenly hands."

"You put your life in line to protect the city," he laughed, pressing slightly on the sore spot on the arch of her feet. "This is the least that I can do. You deserve it."

She smirked back, slumping even more comfortably against the armrest of the couch, her broken wrist cradled to her chest as she basked in the way those calloused warm hands were spoiling her feet. He shifted his attention back to the TV and watched the morning news silently, though his hands were moving like they know every inch of Frost's feet, pressing and massaging all the right places that made Frost buried her face to the couch and bit down on her lower lip to stop the incoming pleased moan.

She remembered back when he and Iris just started dating, Iris has called Caitlin and talked about her new boyfriend, who apparently enjoyed cooking for her, like cuddles, would willingly accompany Iris to go shopping whenever he was free and the best part—enjoyed giving her foot and back rubs every time he noticed that Iris was tired.

Iris said that foot rubs was a heaven after long day at work but Frost didn't know that it would feel this good.

Frost has commented that Iris caught a rare species of man, because from the way she talked about Barry, it seemed like he was the rare species of male kind who took pleasure in spoiling his girl and would do everything that common men shied away from. Iris was a lucky bitch and Frost was dying to be introduced to Barry.

Of course, Caitlin has worded it nicely, telling Iris that she was lucky to meet such respectable nice man, and once the new couple has gotten to know each other more properly, she hoped Iris would introduce Barry to her.

Not how Frost would say it, but Caitlin got the message across.

But damn, Iris wasn't lying. Barry was good.

He knew what he was doing—probably have countless practices and experiences with his past girlfriends—as he moved his hands from her ankles to toes, kneading on the arch of her feet with just the right pressure, paying attention to her right foot first before shifting to the left, and with the dim lighting of the lounge, Frost found herself being incredibly relaxed, curling up more comfortably to the couch as she slipped to her much-needed sleep.

Needless to say that Caitlin was incredibly confused when she took the reign from Frost and wake up to an amazing morning foot rub.

But no. Nope. She wasn't complaining at all.


A/N: So, Barry has achieved one of his goals to infiltrate Team Frost...which is to get the help to heal the Flash. And he might genuinely enjoy spoiling Frost, or simply want to mess with her head. I mean, he already had his fun at CCPD right?

This is more of a filler chapter, because I just want to fulfill this fantasy of mine to see Barry giving foot rub to Frost and she tried so hard to not show that she was enjoying it. I'm back to my original outline in the next update.

Hope you enjoy this chapter!