pre-relationship Barry/Eddie, 2555 words, pg-rated

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If You Want A Storm Come Dance With Me

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It's just coffee, he thinks for the fifteenth time in a five-minute time span, just a cup of coffee. He does this with Iris all the time, catch up over a steaming mug, talk about their day, and there are never any strings attached. He's stood next to Eddie nursing a cup of Jitters coffee before, at briefings at the precinct, during meetings in Singh's office, why would this be any different? He sighs and draws a nervous hand down his face, licking his lips – it's different because they'll be alone, they'll be two men enjoying a nice conversation and everyone will think they're on a date. Does that make it a date?

Oh God, what has he gotten himself into?

"You need to relax," Iris voice sounds in his ear, her breath warm, a hand at his shoulder, and for the briefest of moments he relaxes. "He's a hot single dad who's raised a cute kid. He won't bite."

He scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's not helping."

Iris rolls her eyes and moves on to her other tables.

He's not afraid to be in a room with Eddie, he wouldn't be afraid to go out on a date with Eddie, but neither of them said the word 'date' when they pinned down the time and place yesterday. In fact he thinks both of them were trying really hard not to use the word at all. He's still undecided if dating a guy with a kid was a risk he should take; Eva's already gotten attached to him, and truth be told, he's taken a liking to her too. So he wouldn't want to break her heart should it turn out he and Eddie aren't compatible.

What about his own heart though?

He hasn't been out on a date in months, all his time divided between work and researching his mom's case, chasing every strange case he could get his hands on, eating up the news about the Starling City vigilante. The last guy who took him out got pissed he showed up late and spent the rest of the night talking about his ex. Eddie might be the first decent guy who's caught his eye in years. Which might be the saddest damn thing he's ever admitted to.

The bell above the door jingles and he looks up to find Eddie making his way towards him.

He waves a hand accompanied by a, "Hey," that's too silent to travel across the room. Great. Before he can take a deep breath and brace for what could be another disaster though, Eva comes darting from behind Eddie.

"Barry!" she shouts for the entire coffee shop and runs over to where he'd reserved a settee for him and Eddie. Eva clambers into the empty seat, coat and all, and claps her hands. "Surprise!"

"Hey," Eddie breathes when he finally reaches him, shrugged halfway out of his coat. "I am so sorry. I'm having the hardest time finding a babysitter these days. You'd think Central City's run out of them."

"That's okay." He shrugs, and smiles. "I'm sure we can find something to talk about."

To be honest, with Eva there his stress levels lower to a slightly elevated heart rate. He's never been alone with Eddie outside of work and he honestly doesn't know what they could talk about. What do people talk about on a date?

By the time all coats have been removed and given a proper place Eva has found a more comfortable spot on the floor, smack in between his and Eddie's legs.

"I could ask around for you," he starts awkwardly. "For a babysitter."

"You're sweet." Eddie smiles, which does little to steady his nerves; he'd already decided he quite liked Eddie Thawne and getting to know him threatens to push him over that fine line between smitten and seriously interested. "I'm a single dad. I'm new to town. They just have to get to know me."

"You're a cop. That has to count for something."

"Something I learned early on?" Eddie's eyebrows rise. "Guns make people nervous. Whether you carry one legally or not."

"That sucks."

"Yeah," Eddie laughs. "It does."

He smiles back, but it isn't long before he averts his eyes, his face burning hotter with every second that passes. Maybe talking to Eddie wouldn't be all too difficult; stopping himself from staring holes through him, on the other hand, might be a feat.

"Hello, boys," –Iris comes to his aid–, "What can I get for you–" –her eyes fall down to Eva– "For you three?"

Iris kneels down to meet Eva at eyelevel. "Hey, sweetie. What's your name?"

Eva smiles up at Iris. "My name is Eva Thawne. And my daddy's out on a date with Barry!"

His eyes shoot up at Eddie, whose eyes mirror his horrified expression, enough for his heart to dent the inside of his ribcage. Eddie talked about this with Eva? He actually sat her down at told her what they were going out to do? Eddie hadn't even called it a date to his face, why would he talk to Eva in those terms?

"Sweetie." Eddie looks down at his daughter. "It's not a–"

But Iris interrupts before Eddie can finish that sentence, much to his dismay and growing confusion. "I think you have earned a hot chocolate, young lady." She beams. "Come with me."

Eva and Iris stand, Eva taking Iris by the hand.

"I'll bring you two your usual order."

As soon as Iris and Eva are out of earshot Eddie scoots to the tip of his seat. "I never called it a date." He shakes his head, the apology reflected in his blue eyes both touching and adorable. "That's her overactive imagination talking. She's never seen me out with anyone before."

"Yeah, no, it's–" he starts, but before he can breathe relief his brain catches up to his mouth. "Anyone?"

In her six years Eva has never seen Eddie out with anyone? So this is a date after all. Or a very fledgling attempt towards one.

"Eva is my priority." Eddie shrugs one shoulder. "What I want comes second."

Maybe it's not just coffee, maybe it's what Eddie wants.

"I don't mean–" Eddie sighs, clearly struggling to get the right words out, but if anyone understands what that feels like it's him. "Asking you out is the first thing I've done for myself in a long time."

Strangely, the moment it's actually out there, he can't look away – he smiles a little awkwardly but the blue eyes across from him are so genuine, Eddie's words incredibly relatable. He hasn't done anything for himself for much longer than he can remember; he doesn't go on dates because he doesn't put himself out there, all his time going to his mom's case or his job, and sometimes those two are intricately connected. Saying yes to this date is the first thing he's done with the sole purpose of getting to know someone in forever.

"Here you go, boys." Iris comes back with their coffees, depositing them on a small side table, but seems to sense they don't need her to come to their aid. "I'll keep Eva entertained for as long as I can."

Eddie smiles gratefully. "Thanks, Iris."

Iris returns to the counter, where Eva's being taught the intricacies of making hot chocolate with a fancy machine by one of the other baristas. Iris, as his oldest and most loyal friend, knows him better than anyone; she knows when he's sad, when he's struggling, when he's nervous about a date despite the fact that she hasn't seen him like this often. There's no one in his life he's more grateful for than Iris and Joe.

"You two go back a long way."

He returns his attention to Eddie. "We grew up together, after my mom died."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sips his coffee. "I mean, it sucks, but I'm so lucky Joe took me in. He's amazing, raising me as his own. It can't have been– Well, you're a single dad, you know how hard it must be."

"Yeah."

His mom would've liked Eddie, he thinks, a thought that catches him unaware. He never lets any fantasy scenarios touch his conscious mind, dreams of his mother still alive, his father a doctor and not an inmate at Iron Heights – it's too painful for him to imagine the what-ifs, because nothing would ever bring his mom back or undo all the damage the man in yellow did.

"How did–" He starts, only aware of how ruinous the question could be once it's already formed on his lips. But Eddie's opened a place in his heart he tries not to keep open for too long, a place that had endeared Eva to him the moment she'd said her mom died too. "Eva said her mom–"

"Eva's mom, Julie, was a cop too," Eddie says, showing little to no apprehension talking about this. "She was killed in the line of duty when Eva was eleven months old."

Somehow it all makes sense now, Eddie the dad, a man of contradictions if ever he saw one. From the outside his life seemed so organized, so clean, while at home he had a toddler with a passion for science and dinosaurs, a little girl who'd become Eddie's world after her mom died. He likes that complete picture.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Eddie looks back at Eva. "She doesn't remember much."

"But you do."

When Eddie finds his eyes again he's not sure if he said it for his or Eddie's benefit, if his own memories of his own terrible night don't taint others' retelling of theirs, but they probably do. He can't hear stories like Eva's, like Eddie's, without taking into account his own. That's what makes them relatable. He understands the pain Eddie must feel, must still feel, for himself, for Eva, has traced the outlines of it with his own fingers and has been left with paper cuts that barely ever heal.

Eddie nods. "Julie was an amazing woman. She would've been a great mom."

"Were you two–"

"Married?" Eddie asks. "No. Neither of us were really into that."

In that moment he feels like eons separate him and Eddie; he's already lived this entire life with a different person, they had a child together, and here he is at twenty-five holding together the pieces of a small and empty life, his mom's case his sole concern. Sometimes he wishes he had superpowers, that he could live two billion lives at once, that he could fight like the Arrow and stop all the injustice tearing this world down. He has to believe there are more people like the Arrow out there, fighting against corruption, cleaning the streets. He has to believe in superpowers, how else does he explain what happened to him that night fifteen years ago?

Maybe he's lived a lifetime already too. Just a little less significant than Eddie's.

"Why did you ask me out?" he blurts out, none too sure why, in that exact moment, if maybe simply to change the subject. He has few problems talking about his mom, or what happened that night, but that doesn't mean the same extends to Eddie.

Eddie grins. "Why do I get the feeling you do this about as often as I do?"

He huffs a laugh, even though it's not something to smile about.

"I like you, Barry," Eddie confesses, his eyes softening. "That's why I asked you out."

He blushes but he's happy to hear it, even though he's still not convinced it's a decision he won't regret. He's never gambled with his heart before, and he has no idea if he's any good at it.

Three seconds later, Eva wanders over to her dad, sinking against his legs. "Daddy, I'm sleepy," she says, rubbing at her eyes, resting her head in her dad's lap. He remembers doing that when he was younger; his mom would kiss his forehead and run a hand through his hair, call him her little champion and carry him of to bed. He likes the thought of Eddie doing that for Eva.

"Yeah?" Eddie draws a hand through Eva's hair. "We'll head home in a minute."

Eddie's eyes offer him another apology.

He nods his forgiveness. "You knew the risk when you let her have hot chocolate."

"Barry, can you tuck me in tonight?" Eva asks, her eyes closed. The request isn't that unexpected given how eager Eva seems to have him in her dad's life, and he'd acquiesce her every wish in a heartbeat if he thought Eddie would let him – but it's too much too soon, and like Eddie said, Eva is his first priority. Eddie has to do what's best for Eva first, and letting her get attached to someone who might potentially not remain in her dad's life, well, that's asking for trouble. Somehow that only makes him like Eddie more.

"No, sweetie. Barry's not coming home with us."

"But I wanna hear more about the dinosaurs," Eva argues, and pouts.

"For another time, I'm afraid," he says, but the little girl doesn't so much as open her eyes again.

"I should go," Eddie says, and struggles Eva out of his lap so he can put her coat on again. Easier said than done, as by the time he finishes Eva is fast asleep on Eddie's shoulder.

"Maybe I should walk you home."

"No, I've got it," Eddie says, a strong hold on the little girl in his arms while he pays for his coffee and tips Iris. He's clearly done this many times before. "If she wakes up and sees you–"

Right, she'll definitely need him to come inside and tuck her in lest she scream for the entire neighborhood. Even though they weren't living together at the age of six, he remembers Iris' bedtime temper tantrums all too well.

"Got it."

"I had a really nice night." Eddie touches a hand to his arm, which drops away too soon. If they do end up doing this again, they should head somewhere less crowded, where they can really be alone, really talk, really touch. He'd really like that. "For as long as it lasted."

"Me too." He smiles. "Maybe I could convince Iris to babysit sometime."

"That sounds great," Eddie breathes a smile. "Goodnight, Barry."

"Night, Eddie."

He watches Eddie turn and head for the door, skillfully juggling himself and a six-year old through it, soon disappearing from sight. He wants to take the risk of getting hurt, he wants to take a chance on Eddie and on Eva, because he can't keep living his life the way he has been. At the end of the day he still wants someone to share it with too, even if it might not seem like much of a life so far. Eddie could be good for him, Eva is definitely good for him, so why not? Who ever gets anywhere in life without taking chances?

"Barry, you have to marry that man." Iris bumps shoulders with him. "Because if you don't, I will."

He smiles. That's exactly the kind of opening he needs to convince Iris to babysit.

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tbc

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