A/N: Thanks to everyone for your feedback! It inspired me to write a second part, although I struggled with this a bit. This takes place before the Flash/Arrow crossover (episode 8 of season 1). As always, thanks for reading/reviewing and I hope you enjoy!

Cross Purposes

It was the little things about her that enchanted him.

The way her eyes sparked when she laughed. The tiny crease she got in her brow when she was totally focused on something. The little smile that lifted at the corners of her mouth when she was bemused by one of his nerdy tangents. When she was curious, she tilted her head to the side, just a little bit – and almost always to the left.

He knew all the little things about her, like her favorite band, or the snacks she craved in the middle of a long, sleepless night. She probably never watched a sappy romantic movie without tearing up, but she'd always try to hide it. He could almost always pick the perfect present for her, and he could usually find just the right thing to make her laugh when she was feeling a little blue.

He just didn't know how to get her to see him the way he saw her.

Barry heaved a heavy sigh as he walked through the front door to Jitters. His head bowed, feeling the weight of his unrequited feelings, he stepped across the threshold to the coffee house. Then he saw her, standing at the counter. She lifted her gaze off the customer in front of her and caught his eye, her mouth widening into a smile that wrapped itself around his heart and twisted. Barry couldn't even begin to suppress the goofy smile he shot her in response – always a little too wide, a little more eager than he wished, almost betraying him.

He saw her lips move, forming his name. Then, her newest co-worker – he thought her name was Sara, but he wasn't sure – glanced at her with a grin and said something he couldn't make out. Whatever it was, Iris's smile fell in response, and she jerked her gaze from his with a firm shake of her head. Her moves uncharacteristically clumsy, she reached for a coffee lid and fumbled, knocking into the entire stack, scattering them across the counter. She jumped at the sound of clattering plastic and rushed to clean up her mess, but although he tried to catch her eye to give her a commiserating smile, her gaze stayed firmly averted.

Barry slid into a seat and waited as the last few customers were served and meandered out of the coffee house. Although he expected Iris to approach him once the coast was clear, she lingered at the counter and spoke softly to her co-worker. He wished he could hear their conversation, but their voices were too low and he didn't want to eavesdrop.

After murmuring between themselves for a few minutes, Sara took off her apron and tossed it over her arm. Then she grabbed her purse from under the counter and slung it over her shoulder. "Suit yourself," he heard her say as she skirted the counter and headed for the door. "Just because you want to pretend to be blind doesn't mean I'm going to enable you! Have a good night!"

"Good night, Sara," Iris retorted, putting extra emphasis on the second word. Her tone was as final as a slamming door, but the perky blonde's smile didn't slip so much as a millimeter.

As she swept by his chair, Sara chirped in a voice pitched to carry across the room, "Barry! You know, I thought I might see you here. But I know you're not here to see me, so I'll leave you guys alone. Bye, you two!" She darted out the door well before he had a chance to figure out her peculiar behavior.

Jumping to his feet, he grabbed some dirty cups off a nearby table and took them to the counter. "What was that about?" he asked casually as he handed them over.

The glasses clattered noisily against each other as Iris pulled them away quicker than necessary. "Uh – n-nothing," she stammered, not meeting his eyes. "She just thinks she's being clever."

He waited for her to continue, but he shrugged when no further explanation was forthcoming. "Okay," he said softly as he turned to pick up a few more dirty mugs, and time passed quickly as they cleaned up for the night. Barry couldn't help but watch her out of the corner of his eye as they worked in silence. She was as graceful as a dancer, moving to a song that only she could hear – save for those moments when she glanced over at him and caught him looking her way, at least. Then she seemed a little frazzled and clumsy. Was she starting to suspect his feelings for her?

The thought made him a little skittish, so by the time the cups had all been put in the dishwasher, the bakery items prepped for the next morning, and Iris was wiping down the machines, it was something of a miracle neither of them had broken anything. Barry braced his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. He took a deep breath and tried to sound casual – fighting back his paranoia – and asked, "Hey, did you see that they're showing Mothra vs. Godzilla downtown this weekend? You want to go?"

Her hand paused mid-task, and she shot a quick glance his way, for once not looking away immediately after. She stared for a long minute, the corners of her lips flirting with a tiny ghost of a smile. The sharp contrast in this smile from the rest of the night was enough to make a man self-conscious, and he ran a nervous hand through his hair, wondering if it was sticking up in the back or something.

She didn't seem to notice his discomfort. Her lips widened into that warm grin that drew him like a moth to a flame, and for a moment, things were back to normal between them. "You realize that's really more your thing, right?" she teased.

"You said you love Godzilla!" he retorted, feigning wounded dignity.

She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. "I said I love that you love Godzilla," she replied. "And I love…" Her sentence cut off abruptly as she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes locked on his face. She jerked, and her hand came down heavily on the counter, smacking against the side of a glass carafe with enough force to almost send it on a trip after the rag she'd been holding, which had fallen to the floor. "Uh…I l-love…that about you," she finished, bending to pick it up. Her voice was muffled, her face hidden by the edge of the counter as she tossed the dirty cloth into the laundry. When she straightened, she grabbed a fresh rag off the pile and kept her face averted as she vigorously wiped down the rest of the machines.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he couldn't read her mood. Normally, her disposition was so familiar to him as to be almost second nature. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been able to read her mind, to know her thoughts by the expression on her face.

"So –" he began, drawing out the word cautiously, unsure how to continue. His brain was working overtime. Did she realize he loved her and didn't want to have to address it, so she was trying to avoid the subject? Had something in his expression given him away?

Or was he just so scared of her finding out his feelings and not reciprocating them that he was totally blowing things out of proportion? Maybe her behavior was totally normal and her clumsiness was due to understandable exhaustion after a long shift. Maybe he was the one who was being weird, and she was just picking up on his weirdness without understanding the reason for it, and that was causing all this tension between them.

Barry took a step back from the counter, hoping distance would provide him the emotional cover he apparently so desperately needed right now. He opened his mouth to talk, but a strangled cough came out, instead. Feeling his cheeks grow hot, he shoved his hands in his pockets and, with every fiber of his being, focused on projecting an air of nonchalance, "So, uh, do you – I mean, we don't have to, if you don't want, but if you do…You know, it's up to you. I'm not even sure I'm really all that interested, to be honest. I mean, unless you are! Because if you are, then that would be – uh – that is…Do you want to go?"

Well. If he'd been shooting for "nonchalant," he figured he'd missed the mark and landed somewhere around "neurotic" instead.

She made a noncommittal noise. "Can I get back to you on that? I'll have to check my schedule."

Did she really have to check her schedule, or was she just put off by his almost aggressively intense "nonchalance," he had to wonder. "Uh – sure," he finally managed. Then he lapsed into silence, Barry's paranoia growing as Iris washed the same coffee pot for the third time.

He couldn't bear not knowing what was going on with her – whether she'd picked up on his feelings for her and was trying to avoid the subject, or whether she was just put off by his complete lack of anything approaching "chill" tonight. "Iris, is everything okay? You seem…" he paused, uncertain how to continue. He felt like he was surrounded by conversational land-mines but wasn't even sure which ones to watch out for. Finally latching onto a word that seemed more or less acceptable, he finished, "Distracted."

For a long moment, he thought she would ignore him or shrug off his question as she scrubbed at an invisible spot on the counter like she had a personal vendetta. Just when he was about to give up, assume the worst, and bolt for the door, she finally tossed the rag aside and sighed. "You're right," she conceded heavily.

Like a deer caught in headlights, Barry froze, unable to even suck air into his lungs, wondering if his every dream was about to come true or if his heart would be completely and irrevocably shattered in the next ten seconds.

His only saving grace at that moment was that her eyes were focused intently on a spot on his chest, and so he hoped that she didn't notice the expression of exulted hope – tinged with terror – on his face. "The fact is that I have been a little distracted lately. It's stupid, really. Just something Sara and Tracy said made me start to think about – uh –" her voice trailed off, and she finished lamely, "things."

"Things?" he prompted. His knees gave out, and he sank heavily into a chair.

After a brief pause, she moved around the counter and joined him. "The thing is," she began, sounding resigned as she sank into her seat, "I've been thinking lately about…relationships." Her words were halting, uncertain, like she wasn't sure how to continue – or even if she wanted to do so. "And I've realized…I'm not a very good girlfriend."

"Who told you that?" Barry cried, his fear evaporating instantly to be replaced with rage, as he jumped to his feet. "Did Eddie tell you that? Because any guy in this world would be lucky to have you for a girlfriend, and if Eddie told you differently, I'll –"

"No!" she yelped, reaching for his hand and stopping him from finding out what a supersonic punch did to a non-meta-human's head. She gave it a reassuring squeeze and waited for him to resume his seat before she continued. "Eddie didn't say anything, I promise. This is me. The thing is, Eddie's a great guy. Really. He's sweet and thoughtful and handsome and…and he's crazy about me. He makes me happy, and I shouldn't…"

He stared at her with searching eyes, until he was reasonably reassured that she was telling the truth. Then his rage slunk away and the combination of hope and fear raced back to the surface, causing his heart to alternatively soar and sink into his stomach. The conflicting extreme emotions made him slightly nauseated and caused a tight feeling in his chest that made it hard to breathe. "You shouldn't –?"

She fell silent, staring at his face as though trying to read something there. With a frown, she gave her head a swift shake and sat back, letting his hand fall to his side. "I should be satisfied with that, but lately I've been thinking about…someone else. I mean, nothing definitive. Just…wondering, I guess. Like 'what if?' – something like that."

Again, hope clashed with brutal reality. If this kept up, he was afraid he might have a heart attack. Or at the very least vomit. Because it was right at that moment that he realized who she was talking about – and it was him, except that it wasn't quite the same and he couldn't pretend to himself that it was. Calling himself fifteen different kinds of idiot for even thinking for a moment she might have discovered his feelings for her (and entertaining the foolish hope she might return them), he sighed. "The Flash?" he ventured with a grimace.

She paused, her lips parted slightly as she stared into his eyes for a heartbeat or two. Then, with a grimace, she looked away and prevaricated, "Well, you have to admit, he is pretty amazing." Slipping her lower lip between her teeth, she nibbled on it for a moment before continuing. "I know you probably don't see him like this, but…he's incredible, really. Smart and funny. Charming. He's got the best heart of just about anyone I've ever known." Barry was almost taken aback by her description. How could she see the Flash so clearly after only a few brief meetings but not see Barry himself when he was standing right in front of her? And how ridiculous was it that he was temporarily overcome with intense jealousy of himself?

Heedless of his inner turmoil, she continued, "But the thing is…we're friends, really. I-I mean, I think we are. And I have no idea real reason to believe he sees me the way I see him, so…this is probably just a harmless crush, and it'll pass soon enough. I just let them get into my head. You know how bad I am with this stuff; maybe this is all just my attempt to self-sabotage what could be a really incredible relationship." She paused and took a deep breath, then gave a firm nod of her head. "Yeah, I'm sure that's what this is. Of course it is! I'm just being an idiot. Right?"

He hated himself in that moment, because he wanted to tell her that it absolutely wasn't a crush and she should definitely act on her feelings. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that she didn't look at Barry the way she looked at the Flash, so she would probably be appalled if he confessed the truth now. He also knew he couldn't use the mask to pursue a romantic relationship with her. She deserved better than that kind of deception. And when she did find out about his duplicity – which would be inevitable, under those circumstances – there would be no way she wouldn't feel like his actions weren't the worst kind of betrayal. Like he'd been purposefully duping her, exploiting her emotions, playing her for a fool.

He couldn't do that to her. No matter how very much he wanted to tell her how he felt, he could never hurt her like that.

As the devil on one shoulder waged war with the angel on the other, he struggled for the right words to say, rubbing his hands over his forehead and through his hair as he shifted awkwardly in his seat. By the time he dropped his hands into his lap and sagged into his chair, even he wasn't sure which one had won the battle.

"I think…if you think it's just a crush, then you may be right. Give it a little more time and see what happens," he suggested with a forced and tremulous smile. He was tempted to tell her she should break things off with Eddie while she sorted out her feelings, but he didn't. He couldn't be sure he wanted to tell her that for her benefit or for his.

Instead, he added, "You know, if he does have feelings for you, he'll probably let you know, if you pay close enough attention." Or the slightest of attention, really, since she seemed to be the only person in the entirety of Central City who didn't know he was desperately in love with her. He sometimes felt like he couldn't make it more obvious that he adored her with every fiber of his being if he…well, if he got up the courage to tell her. Which he never had, and, at this rate, it didn't seem like he ever would. So, admittedly, he probably carried the brunt of blame for his predicament.

A small crease knit her brow as she frowned and mulled over his words. "Yeah…I guess," she finally admitted, though she sounded uncertain.

Silence fell between them, and Barry tried not to fidget – or waver in his resolve not to tell her to pursue a relationship with the Flash. After a minute or two, a thought struck, and he took the opportunity to give in to a little temptation. Remembering something she had said earlier, he asked, "Out of curiosity, what did Sara and Tracy say?"

Iris froze and shot him a quick look out of the corner of her eye. "Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered.

Thrown a little by her reaction, he explained gently, "Well, you said something they said made you start thinking about things. I was just wondering what it was."

"Oh," she breathed. Her lips tightened into a scowl. Finally, she admitted, "We were talking about unrequited crushes. If we've ever had any, if we know anybody who's had any, that kind of thing." She paused and then asked lightly, "Have you?"

"M-me?" he stammered, lowering his gaze so she couldn't read the truth written in the lines on his face. "No, I wouldn't say I've had a crush, really." It was more like a bone-deep, all-consuming love that occupied his every day, kept him awake at night, and came more naturally to him than breathing. Which wasn't really the same as a crush, so he figured he wasn't lying.

Trying to deflect her attention, he returned, "And have you? I mean, before the Flash?" He wasn't too worried the answer would break his heart, since he didn't think she ever had. As far as he knew, Iris had never had a serious crush on anyone – though like most people who didn't already know they'd found the love of their lives before they'd even hit the age of puberty, she'd dabbled in puppy love a time or two in school. Anyway, even if she'd ever had a crush, he doubted it had ever been unrequited. He couldn't imagine anyone ever not falling head over heels in love with her.

"Well, sure," she admitted lightly with a shrug. "Hasn't everyone? For about five minutes in twelfth grade, I had the biggest crush possible on Chris Wilcox. And then he opened his mouth and I realized he was actually an ass." He remembered Chris and 'ass' was putting it lightly. "In eighth grade, it was that guy…god, I don't even remember his name, now. He was tall, with that really curly blonde hair and the dimples? Lucas something, I think? He moved halfway through the semester, so that crush was short-lived." Not short enough, to Barry's recollection. The guy in question had been named Luke Evans, actually, though he didn't bother to correct her. Iris may have forgotten, but Barry never would – mostly because he'd been intensely jealous of the other boy for the entire time he'd been the object of her affection.

"And, of course, for a while after we first met, I had a crush on you," she finished in a voice that was deceptively casual, given that her admission hit him with the force of a meteor to the chest.

Until that exact moment, Barry would have thought it was impossible to choke to death on air. It was a very near miss, actually. "M-me?" he finally managed in a strangled voice. "You had a crush on me?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Well, yeah!" she admitted, and if he didn't know better, he could swear she almost sounded a little…disappointed. "Don't get scared, thinking I've been carrying a torch all this time! It's not a big deal. It was pretty clear that it wasn't going to be reciprocated, so I realized we would be amazing friends and got over it. I mean, we were in elementary school! You were barely past thinking I had cooties!"

Barry might have to reconsider that heart attack, because as it was, the irony of his situation was going to kill him. It was hard to believe that he had probably started falling in love with Iris not long after she decided there was no point in having a crush on him.

For a guy who would one day be the fastest man alive, it seemed he was cursed to forever just miss his chance at loving her.

At that moment, she glanced over at him, and something on his face must have caused her to have genuine alarm, because she lunged forward and grabbed his hand again. "Barry, are you okay? If I'd realized you would be this horrified, I wouldn't have told you!"

He let out a choked laugh. Great. Now she thought he was revolted at the mere thought that she'd once considered, for probably like five minutes, having a crush on him. And he thought his current predicament couldn't get any worse. "N-no, I'm not…I'm just surprised!" he finally managed. When all this was over, he was going to have to go somewhere and scream for a while.

Her eyes narrowing, she made a soft humming noise and relaxed back into her chair. "You know, given the reaction you just had, it's probably a good thing I haven't told…uh…the Flash how I feel," she mused, putting a strange emphasis on the man in question's name. "It just about caused you to have a heart attack." Oh, how he wished that were true. Then his torment – and this excruciating conversation – would be over. "It would probably cause him to run screaming to another state!"

"I'm sure that's not true –" he blurted, but she waved her hand, dismissing his interjection.

"No, it's okay. The truth is…well, you know as well as I do that I'm not very good with relationships. I have a way of messing them up, really. I don't know how Eddie stuck it out, when I was acting like he was my dirty little secret."

Right now was probably the worst time for Barry to try to convince her that she was worth waiting for, so he held his tongue in abject misery. With a glance at the time, Iris groaned and rose to her feet. "It's late; I should get home. And you're probably right. It's not worth sabotaging the best relationship I've ever been in for some silly crush."

He stood, and Iris wrapped her arms around him for a tight hug. Then she pulled away, just far enough to lean back and look him in the eye. For a moment, their faces were so close that he could feel her breath fan against his mouth, but when she leaned in, it was only to press her lips against his cheek in a soft kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked, his breath catching in his throat.

"Being a good friend," she murmured, and although a smile lifted the corners of her mouth, it didn't quite reach her eyes. "And reminding me that sometimes, what you have is more important than some fantasy of what could be."

"Oh. Any time," he offered, forcing a smile of his own. Dejected, he turned and walked to the door. He didn't look over his should at her as he left. If he had, he would have realized she stood in the doorway and watched him with sad eyes until he was out of sight.