The gentle hum of the newly-powered Star Labs followed Barry like a friendly ghost as he made his way to the residential wing. The day's miracles—the built timeship, the cosmic power core—settled into a quiet background satisfaction. Now, a different, more personal kind of mission awaited.
In his room, he didn't need to rush. He moved at a normal human pace, savoring the simplicity of it. A shower, the hot water a welcome comfort on his skin. Changing into fresh, casual clothes—a dark button-down and jeans—that didn't carry the scent of ozone or cosmic energy. He looked at his reflection, at the man in the mirror, and for a moment, he was just Barry Allen, getting ready for a date.
He found Patty back in the Cortex, but the scene had shifted. She was no longer marveling at the technology. She was standing frozen, staring at the far side of the room with an expression of pure, unadulterated shock.
Caitlin had gone home for the evening. Billy, apparently thinking the room was empty, had been talking quietly to Gideon about a tricky physics problem.
"…so if the magical lightning is a catalyst, not an energy source, then my mass change shouldn't create a sonic boom, right?" Billy asked, looking up at the ceiling.
"That is a correct assessment, William," Gideon's warm voice replied. "The transformation is a metaphysical exchange, bypassing conventional physics. It is quite fascinating."
Then, as if to demonstrate, Billy muttered, "Well, only one way to be sure."
A single, crisp word cut through the air. "Shazam."
There was no deafening thunderclap, not inside the protective fields of the Cortex. Just a blinding, silent flash of white lightning that wrapped around the boy for a split second. Where Billy had stood, now stood the powerful, caped form of Shazam, still holding the same textbook.
Patty's coffee mug, which she had just picked up, slipped from her fingers.
Barry was there in an instant, a blur of motion that caught the mug and set it safely on a table before a single drop could spill. The sound of the catch made Patty jump. She spun around, her eyes wide, pointing a trembling finger at the fully-grown, superheroic figure now discussing theoretical physics with an A.I.
"Barry," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "That… that's Billy. The kid. The one doing homework. He just… he said a word and poof! Giant superhero!" She grabbed his arm, her nails digging in. "Is everyone in this building a secret cosmic entity?"
Shazam—Billy—looked over, his face falling as he realized he had an audience. "Oh. Uh. Hi, Patty." His voice was now a deep, confident baritone that sounded utterly bizarre coming from the teenager she'd just seen.
Barry put a calming hand over Patty's. "It's a lot, I know. Billy is… special."
"Special?" Patty repeated, her voice rising an octave. "Barry, he turned into a different person! A famous one! I've seen him on the news! That's Shazam!"
"Yeah," Barry said gently, guiding her away from the Cortex and towards the main entrance. He shot a look at Billy that said, We'll talk later. Billy, looking sheepish in his mighty form, gave a little wave.
Once they were outside, the cool evening air hitting her face seemed to help. Patty took several deep, steadying breaths, walking alongside Barry in silence for a block.
"Okay," she said finally, her voice more controlled. "Okay. So. Your little brother, who you help with his algebra, is also an ancient wizard-powered champion. Of course. Why wouldn't he be? It fits right in with the talking timeship and the multiverse travelers."
"He's a good kid," Barry offered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "The power just… picked him. He handles it better than most adults would."
Patty stopped walking, turning to face him under the glow of a streetlamp. The initial shock was receding, leaving behind a profound, weary amazement. "This is my life now," she stated, not as a question, but as a fact. "I'm dating a man who breaks the sound barrier for fun, his coworkers are from other Earths, his A.I. has more personality than my last partner, and his little brother is a wizard. I'm just… putting that out there."
Barry smiled, a soft, hopeful look in his eyes. "Yeah. That about sums it up." He reached out and took her hand. "And despite all that… the wizard brothers, the cosmic boxes, the time travel… I would still really, really like to take you to dinner. Just dinner. No superheroics. No revelations. Just… us."
The simple normalcy of the request, made against the backdrop of their utterly abnormal lives, seemed to anchor her. She looked down at their joined hands, then back up at his face. The fear and confusion finally melted away, replaced by a warm, genuine affection.
"You know what?" she said, a real smile finally breaking through. "I'm starving. And you, Barry Allen, are buying me the biggest steak in Central City."
"Deal," he laughed, the sound full of relief and happiness.
He didn't run. They walked, hand in hand, down the illuminated streets, two small figures under the vast, starry sky. The sounds of the city were a gentle soundtrack—distant sirens, the murmur of traffic, the laughter from a nearby bar.
For a few precious hours, the Flash was just a man on a date. Right now, all that mattered was the woman beside him, and the promise of a perfectly ordinary, extraordinary dinner.