The heavier shift on one side of the bed was a strong indicator to Barry that she was there. He noticed the shoes against his thigh, the hand nudging against his calf. His hand twitched until it collided with her ankle. 

"Oh," flinched Parker. "Barry!"

"The Streak lives," teased Cisco. 

Barry opened his eyes. He did his best to smile at her. 

Caitlin approached the bed. "You'd be dead if your lung cells didn't regenerate so quickly," she admitted. 

"My chest feels like that one time I had a cigarette," muttered Barry. He chuckled at their surprised glances. He went on to joke, "Yeah. Teen me lived for danger."

"This isn't funny. You could have--"

"I didn't," interrupted Barry. 

Caitlin continued to frown. 

"Now that we have a sample, we'll get to work. Analyzing it, figure out the make up of the poison, maybe get a clue as to his human identity," said Dr. Wells. 

"Or at least a way to stop him from transforming into a mist," said Cisco. He stopped. "The Mist! Okay, that's his name, end of discussion!" 

"Where was the start of that discussion? I protest. That's lame," said Parker. 

"Hey, he said 'end of discussion,'" muttered Barry. 

Parker rolled her eyes. Curiously, she eyeballed him when he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. "Whoa, kid, what do you think you're doing?"

"I have to get to the station," said Barry. 

"No, sit. You saw his face, let me draw him," insisted Parker. 

Barry ignored her. Ungracefully, he bent down, kissed her cheek, then started to limp away.

Dr. Wells shamefully watched him leave. "You should be resting," he sang. 

"I have to talk to Joe."  

Parker

Hours later, on her cheek, she continued to feel his lingering lips. Parker sat alone in her apartment. She stared at the television, stretched across the couch. For the rest of the night, Barry hadn't been seen, but she sure thought of him. She couldn't distract herself from him. 

Her cell phone went off. 

"I know you're probably busy," started Cisco. 

"Not at all. What's up?"

"Oh, wow. You sound terrible. What's wrong?"

"Just confused. Barry's... I don't know," sighed Parker. 

"Well, speaking of Barry, he's about to go after The Mist."

Parker shoveled ice cream into her mouth. "I think he'll be just fine without me."

"Oh, Parker, come on. Would you just grow up? So what if he doesn't feel the same? It doesn't mean you have to shut him out. He still needs you, even if it's not in a romantic way."

She would have been the first to admit that shedding some truth on the dilemma was nice to hear. She liked having another point of view. But, as opposed to what Cisco thought, Parker didn't avoid helping Barry because she was afraid to see him. She simply didn't want to waste money on a cab to be there for less than twenty minutes. 

"Not tonight," she told him. "I trust you guys to not let him die."

××××

Lying in bed, the following morning, Parker stared out of her window at the bustling city. Her mind raced. Again, she was stuck in deep thought about a certain speedster. 

Denying that there was an attraction to him was insane. Whenever in proximity, a pull attracted her to him. She had become decent at pulling free from him. However, the previous night was an exception. 

Barry had been in need. She stayed by him for comfort. Besides, he was the one who grabbed her hand. Maybe he just needed comfort. Not her comfort, but anyone's, and she happened to be there. His action didn't have to necessarily mean anything. 

The doorbell rang. A couple seconds without an answer caused the bell to ring three more times, entirely impatient. 

Stumbling out of bed, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, then shuffled across the cold hardwood floors of her apartment to the door. 

"You know," she was grumbling on her way, "as much as I love having face-to-face talks, I have a goddamn cell phone for a reason. For God's sake, you could have..."

Face scrunched in a wince, clad in a pea coat and blue jeans, stood Barry Allen in front of her doorway. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should have called first. I just... I wanted to talk to you."

"About what?" she asked awkwardly. 

"I wanted to see you today. Can I take you for coffee? Or, breakfast, maybe, since I clearly just woke you up?"

Parker did her best to hide her smile. He looked adorable, with the unsure grimace on his face. He stood, leaning, as though he was ready to bolt away from the rejection he thought he was going to receive. 

"Let me get dressed, yeah?" 

Barry's eyes widened. He stared at her. 

"So... You should probably come in, unless you're trying to wait in the hallway for me to get ready," offered Parker. She opened the door wider. 

Timidly, he entered into her home. Barry followed her wish to sit on the couch. He took it a step further and got comfortable, knowing how long it normally took for Iris to get ready in the morning. 

"Oh, wow," said Barry, half an hour later. "I wish all girls got ready as fast as you."

Parker thought of a thousand responses to his request. All of them came off flirty, which was the last thing she wanted, so she settled for staying silent. 

Barry held his arm out. She slipped her arm through. They walked the streets of Central City together. 

"All right, so, you went away to Keystone for college. What did you study?" asked Barry. 

"Art and design, mostly. Graphic design, for comics, specifically," she said. "What made you take an interest in forensics?"

"Solving my mother's murder, mainly."

"Of course, of course..."

Back and forth, the two asked and answered questions. Both were storing answers in their minds, just in case they ever needed them again someday.

Once they arrived in Jitters, streaming drinks in their hands, the two fell silent. It was no secret that the silence was tense, awkward. Neither one knew what to say. Barry opened his mouth to speak. Parker beat him to it. 

"I like you," she blurted out. "I do. I felt like it was my responsibility to stick around after you turned into this fast running kid. Doing so morphed into something more than just a simple crush, you know? Don't worry, though, it's still minor, so we can just squash this like a bug and forget it happened--"

"Parker, I like you, too."

"--and, not gonna lie, this is a little weird. I feel like I'm just gonna turn out to be a burden on you, so I'm trying to distance myself, to stop this before it... Wait, what?"

"I like you," he said again. 

"Really?"

Barry leaned forward on the table. He set his elbows firmly down and settled his chin into the palms of his hands. He stared into her curious brown eyes. "I do," he said. "Do you?"

Playing it cool now, ensured that he felt the same, Parker said, "Well, I suppose."

"You suppose?" he asked, chuckling.

"It's hard not to. I'm just afraid of jumping into this too fast."

"So, what can I do?"

"Barry Allen, if you want me to stick around... Change my mind."