#honestly i feel like this could be spun around MOST 27 ships

[letheldosage]

dare i say that "what am i without you?" "yourself" is R27 coded

[sassycassie-s-series]

Newsflash 4

Chapter 4 - Apartment Apparition

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): The Flash - Barry Allen/The Flash and OC (Heather Astra)

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) I’m still having so much fun writing this. 

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 

Previous Chapter

^^^^^

Someone write an AU where these two are like legit scientists!

They’re so in love. What gives Heather? Why aren’t you dating this kid? He’s cute!

I guess I just needed two gorgeous faces to tell me about black holes to understand them. Thanks Heather! Definitely using this info on the next ASTR test I have!

Has anyone come up with a ship name yet?

Barry Nye the Science Guy and Heather Astra his lovely assistant, as my mom would say!

Ok. This ship is LITERALLY SAILING ITSELF!

H E A T H E R! pls date Bary!

I snickered as I scrolled through comments on Tuesday during lunch break, glancing over the top of my phone at Barry eating his sandwich. Apparently he never read the comments on my videos. I'd asked him on Monday and he’d denied it, saying he hated YouTube comment sections because they weren’t known for “stimulating and intellectual discussions”—to use his words.

“What are you laughing at?” he called across the lab where I was munching on my muffin in one hand and looking at my phone in the other.

“Everyone’s loving our black hole video,” I answered honestly. I kept the whole “Fandom ships it like a shipping ship shipping shipping ships” bit to myself. “Even though they could probably use spellcheck sometimes.”

“That so?” Barry asked, sounding a bit distracted, also on his phone.

“It is,” I confirmed.

“Glad to hear they like it. What kind of video are you making tonight?”

“Newsflash.” I shook my head. “I mean, a video about The Flash and the metahuman attack yesterday. I call those videos Newsflashes.”

“Yeah I know. Clever pun,” Barry complimented. There was a pause. “Remember I'm one of your Sailors too, not just your special science guest. I know what you call your videos.” I blushed pink and looked down at my screen, taking a bite into my muffin in embarrassment. When I didn’t say anything—an uncharacteristic move for a chatterbox like me—he spun around in his chair to look at me. “You okay, Heather?” he asked. I looked up from my phone.

“Yup. Fine. Just forget sometimes that you watch my videos, I guess,” I answered.

He smirked. “Well, I’ll compliment them more often so you don’t forget,” he commented.

“That’s okay. If there’s nothing to compliment, by all means, don’t.”

“Heather. You’ve got five hundred subscribers and you’ve only been doing this for a couple months. You're doing something right. There’s plenty to compliment. You're already getting really good at what you do.”

I blushed deeper and stared at my muffin. “It’s just a hobby,” I muttered.

“A hobby that’s giving you a circle of influence where you can make a difference. Maybe not to the whole world, but possibly someone’s whole world!” he exclaimed.

Finally I looked up. I could see the green of his eyes from across the lab. “Thanks Barry.”

“Allen! Astra!” Captain Singh shouted from the stairway to our lab.

We both leapt out of our seats, setting our lunches down on our desks.

“Captain,” we greeted in unison.

“If there’s a crime scene we need to go over, it’s not our fault that we’re not there. No one has called either of our phones or the lab line,” I put in quickly. The captain looked between the two of us for a moment.

“There is a crime scene that will need you two to look it over, but I've come to tell you personally since the lab line was accidentally unplugged by one of the janitors last night.”

“��Accidentally’?” Barry quoted. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. The man admitted he might have yanked it out. C’mon you two. Let’s go.”

“Sir,” we both agreed. I grabbed my jacket, shoving my phone into the pocket. Barry and I picked up our field kits from where they were resting near the door and followed Captain Singh down the stairs. Barry glanced at me as we rushed.

“What do you think it’ll be?” he wondered.

“Meta attack,” I answered, only half-sarcastic. “Heaven forbid we have one day of peace.”

“Don’t be bitter,” Barry admonished.

I snorted. “I'm not bitter,” I retorted.

“You say bitterly, with a bitter expression,” Barry teased.

“Careful,” I warned. “I may hit you.”

^^^^^

“Welcome to Central City—the only city in the world where people with superhuman powers commit crimes on a regular basis,” I commented to my camera sarcastically. “I mean, thank heaven we’ve got The Flash here to neutralize most of their attacks.

“For example,” I carried on, “I was going to tell you guys a very in-depth story about what happened two days ago when a metahuman attacked the football game… but there was also an attack today. So I'm doing two slightly-less-detailed stories in one Newsflash. If you guys hate this format, let me know and I’ll stick to one story per video.” I smirked at the camera and put on my fake glasses. “But, for now, story time!”

I told the camera everything I could in as much detail as I could while being vague enough to not give creepy stalkers on the internet too much information so no one could use anything against me.

It took me about fifteen minutes to film the five-minute video—because apparently my tongue was too big for my mouth and I couldn’t get any of my words out right. That happened though when I didn’t have a script and was kind of winging the stories’ wordings. I just hated scripts since they made the video feel inauthentic to me. Impersonal, maybe. I wasn’t sure.

By the time I'd finished editing, it was late at night. I rendered, exported, and uploaded it before just collapsing in bed. I could add a better description with links and stuff in the morning. For the night, my viewers would have to be happy with the, “I’ll add more to this description later as I can barely keep my eyes open” that I'd written in the box. I stripped off my clothes, showered, put on my nightclothes, brushed my teeth and hair, and went to bed.

I don’t even remember if I dreamt.

^^^^^

Hey, at 4:27 what was that red blur in the background?

Heather? Is your apartment haunted? At 4:28 something moved in the bakcground.

Did anyone else see the flicker of red (???) in the background at about 4:28?

Heather’s apartment is haunted. Pause at 4:27. There’s a blurry red shape over her right shoulder (left side of the screen).

Tell me I'm not the only one seeing that red streak behind her? What’s going on?

I woke up to a couple of those comments as I checked the video after I turned off my alarm. I watched through it and looked at what they were talking about. There were about two frames where a slight reddish something had been over my shoulder. But it didn’t look like a physical form.

I replied to as many comments about it as I could that the blurry thing must have just been a lighting thing with my camera’s lens—some car’s taillights through the open window probably as it drove by at a somewhat high speed. It wasn’t solid enough to actually be anything tangible. Besides, it was just a flicker. Only The Flash could go that fast and the likelihood that he knew where I lived or had any reason to run through my video was extremely small.

I didn’t tell any of my subscribers that last bit.

Slowly, I got ready for work and went off to the precinct, flopping into my chair about fifteen minutes before Barry got there. He ran up the stairs, out of breath, with two to-go cups from Jitters. “You're going to destroy your body with that much caffeine,” I remarked, barely looking around from my computer screen.

“Okay Miss High-and-Mighty-Never-Drinks-Coffee,” he retorted. I shrugged.

“I did a fifteen-page paper in college about the negative effects of coffee,” I explained.

“Well, either way, one of these is hot chocolate, and I got it for you.”

That got me to look away from my screen. I spun around on my wheelie chair and gave him a shocked expression. “You got me hot chocolate?” I asked, astounded.

Barry smiled and glanced at the names on the cups, handing me the one with Heather in a barista’s messy handwriting. “Well, I saw that your video went up really late last night so I figured you were probably tired,” he commented. “And there’s no problem that can't be solved with chocolate.”

I smiled and took a sip. “Mmm. Jitters’ hot chocolate is so good. Thank you, Barry. That’s really nice of you.”

“You're welcome. It’s more for my sake, to be honest. No one likes a grumpy coworker.”

I snorted. “Thanks.”

There were several long moments of silence during which we both drank our beverages and got back to work. There’d been a spike in metahuman cases—again—and we had a lot of paperwork and evidence to look through. It was times when I was sitting in my desk doing nothing but reports that I wondered why I'd become a forensic scientist. Then something interesting would happen and I'd remember that it was actually a fascinating job.

“Hey,” I piped up, spinning around to face Barry. “How about, to pay you back, I take you out to lunch?”

“No. You don’t have to pay me back.”

“Thanks. But I'd feel bad if I didn’t. And it’s just lunch.”

Barry sighed. “Fine.”

I smiled. “Great!”

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