Keeping things simple, good for you Leia. BTW I love the idea of 'Much Ado About Nothing,' so you've been warned. It's a bit OOC, but it was fun to write.

Prompt from Leia Amidala Skywalker. Barry straight up tells her that he is the Flash.

Barry was shaking as he walked into Jitters that day. Iris automatically knew something was wrong. He worked for the police but he was never this nervous about anything, unless it concerned her. Was her dad ok? Was Eddie ok? She knew they had been working late last night. No, her dad was fine. If that had been the problem, he would have went straight to her and given her a hug whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again in her ear, he would not have sat down at a table and waited for her to come to him.

"Barry?" Iris said hesitantly when she got to his table. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, not meeting her eye.

"No, you're not, and I'm not leaving this table until you tell me what's wrong with you, Barry. I know you better than that!"

"I'll tell you at home, ok?" He hadn't lived with Joe and Iris since he left for college, but he still referred to their house as home. It always Iris smile when he did that.

"You're just putting this conversation off." Iris narrowed her eyes at him.

"You'll want to be at home for this conversation. Besides it's not something I can talk about in public."

Iris's curiosity was rapidly rising. She still had two hours left of work, and she knew Barry would get home long after she did. Waiting for this would not be easy, and Barry knew she would call him several times before they got home trying to get at the very least a hint.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I should have just waited to see you at home." Barry stood up to leave.

"So why did you?" Barry turned back to face her.

"What?"

"If you should have waited until we were home, why did you come here?"

Barry paused. "So I can't talk myself out of telling you before I get home." Barry was surprised at his answer. To be honest, he wasn't really sure why he had gone to Jitters until she asked.

As he left, he smiled the first smile since he and Joe had decided it was time to tell her. Barry had been the one fighting to tell her, but now that he had permission, he was terrified to do it.

Throughout the whole day both of them were distracted. Every time Iris had a break or business slowed even a little she was immediately on the phone with Barry. She was actually surprised that he picked up each time.

Barry just enjoyed her curious nature, that and he loved hearing her voice. While Iris expected him to get annoyed, he just hoped she'd still talk to him after this was all over, but just in case he wanted to hear her as much as he could for as long as he could.

Between phone calls Barry had managed to analyze one shred of evidence. At one point that day, Eddie had walked into his office and said hello and Barry had jumped sky high. Eddie had laughed and asked what was wrong with him. Barry was too quick to respond with "nothing." He knew no one, especially a detective would believe that, but he certainly was not going to explain the situation to Eddie.

"Okay, Allen." Eddie eyed him suspiciously, but Barry just turned back to the evidence he had been staring at for the last half hour-not including phone call breaks.

He stood up and went to grab an evidence bag and a test tube, but when he reached out to grab what he needed he dropped three different, volatile chemicals to the floor. Barry couldn't risk using his speed, so he let them fall then rushed to clean them up before they ate through the floor, but not fast enough to avoid the smell of burnt linoleum permeating through his lab. Not a pleasant smell.

"Allen, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm just . . . a little out of sorts. No real reason." Except a real possibility of losing my best friend when I go home tonight.

Iris's day hadn't been a whole lot better, but at least she didn't burn anything, well, except for a customer's hand. She had just gotten off the phone with Barry, but had gotten absolutely nothing from him. He really was scared about whatever he had to tell her. It was almost as if he had stopped believing that she would always be there for him, no matter what. What could he have to tell me that could be so bad that he would think I'd abandon him? At first she didn't even notice the customer impatiently holding out his coffee mug for a refill. Her coworker had to get her attention, point to him, and hold out a coffee pot for her to take. It was a good thing her friend had given her the pot because she had no idea what he was drinking. She walked over to him and began to fill his mug, and fill it, and fill it, and overflow it onto the man's hand. She only realized what had happened when he cried out in pain and pulled his hand back.

She stopped pouring.

"I'm so sorry." Iris quickly apologized handing him napkins and cleaning up the table.

The man scoffed at her apology. Few of the regular patrons were laughing. They knew Iris, so they knew she must have something serious on her normally focused mind.

Iris had been home for two hours, calling Barry every ten minutes (at the most, it seemed), and pacing by the door waiting for him to get home.

Finally, she heard a key slide quietly into the lock. She threw the door open so hard Barry thought it would fly off the hinges.

"Woah!" Was all he had a chance to say before he had been pulled to the couch.

"Sit and speak. This has had me far too worried today." Iris spoke quickly. Barry sat there quietly, not sure how he should start. "You are not getting out of this, Bear."

"I'mtheFlashI'msorryIdidn'ttellyousoonerIjustdidn'twantyoutobeputindangerIknowthat'snotgoodenoughbutit'sthetruthI'msorry." He said quickly and quietly.

"I can handle a little bit slower." Iris stared at her best friend waiting for him to respond.

"I'm the Flash." He repeated.

"Barry, I've waited all day for you to tell me whatever it is you want to tell me. Please just tell me what's really going on."

Barry laughed a little then began to vibrate his voice. "Iris."

Her eyes widened. "Oh my-"

"I'm sorry. I know I should have told you as soon as I knew what was happening, but I had seen what can happen to vigilantes and the people that work with them or know about them, and I wanted to protect you from that. I wanted to protect you from me." Barry hung his head, expecting her to leave, tell him to leave, or yell at him for keeping huge secrets from her.

"Barry." She said softly. "Look at me." He complied.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, a misguided but caring instinct? I'm not going to tell you that you were right to keep this from me, but I can understand you're reasoning."

"You're not mad at me?" Barry asked his best friend hesitantly. He was still afraid that he might lose her.

"Just, just please, no more secrets. Okay?"

"Okay."