A/N: Request from theflashiswestallen on tumblr. This fic is canon divergent but only from the very end of the episode. Instead of everyone meeting up at STAR Labs after their crazy nights, the ladies all went home separately and Cisco drops Barry off at his and Iris' loft. Enjoy!

*Many thanks to my awesome beta, sendtherain, for not only looking this over and assisting in revisions, but also suggestion the title of this fic! Thanks, hun. I owe you a million always. :P

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

...

At half-past two in the morning, mere moments after the door to hers and Barry's loft opened, Cisco Ramon shoved a very drunk Barry Allen over the threshold. Luckily for Iris, Barry was just coherent enough to not put his full weight on her as the momentum from Cisco's push placed him directly in Iris' arms.

"Heyyy, Iris," Barry slurred as he fell towards her. "You smell nice."

Iris gasped, and despite Cisco's cranky, very tired state, he grabbed hold of Barry and helped Iris land him squarely on the first couch in their living room.

"Whoaaa," Barry said loudly, giggling as his counterparts attempted to keep him from falling off the furniture. He kept letting his arms fall over the side near the floor, maybe on purpose. "Whoops," he said every time.

"Barry," Iris scolded, though she didn't know why.

Barry gasped. "Is Flash in trouble?" he asked dramatically. Iris couldn't tell if he was seriously concerned in his drunken state or faking it and planning to fall off the couch at any moment.

"Flash will be if he doesn't lay still so Cisco can leave," Cisco snapped.

"Vibe is meeean, Iris," Barry whispered.

"Please lay still, honey," she said. "Your fiancée would appreciate it very much."

"Fiancée," Barry said reverently and stopped moving, placing his hands neatly in his lap. "I love you, fiancée."

Iris' heart swelled despite herself. "Love you, too."

Then without warning, Barry closed his eyes and fell asleep.

"Thanks," Iris said to Cisco on their return to the loft's entrance. "Good night?" she asked, pushing down any minor irritation at Cisco's impromptu dumping of his best friend at the doorway.

"Eventful," Cisco said.

Iris raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you all about it," Cisco said, heading back for the door.

Iris followed, calling out to him just as he stepped into the hallway. He turned back to look at her expectantly, though she was fairly positive he could tune her out if he wanted. He seemed to be in the mood to do that.

"How did you get him drunk?" she asked.

Cisco sighed loudly. "I made a concoction."

"A concoction," she deadpanned.

"Yeah." His hand dragged down his face. "It was supposed to give him a buzz to take the edge off, let him enjoy himself in a way he hasn't been able to for the last four years. Especially after Ralph dragged us all to a strip club." He grimaced. "Thank God Harry had hand sanitizer with him."

Iris arched a brow, folded her arms beneath her breasts and leaned against the doorframe.

"A strip club, huh?"

"God, Iris, not now," he whined. She got the feeling he wouldn't have if he hadn't been so worn down from whatever had happened that evening. "Nothing happened. I mean, there was that bar fight, and we did end up in jail, but—"

"Jail?" she asked incredulously, her jaw practically on the floor.

"But there was no ogling of strippers," he emphasized, as if he hadn't heard her.

He probably hadn't, Iris mused.

"I mean, maybe minor ogling of one stripper when we first got there. But def no lap dances or sticking bills places where..." He stopped, as if he'd suddenly sobered up and realized what he was spilling to her.

Iris' eyes were wide open, still gawking.

He cleared his throat. "I think I'll just… um, I think I'll go."

"Oh, no, no, no, you don't." She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Finish."

He swallowed hard. "I'm tired, Iris. And like I said, nothing happened. He told anyone who would listen that he was the Flash, but I'm positive no one believed him. He sounded crazy."

She released him and muttered under her breath, "Good Lord."

"Iris…"

"Go."

"Iris, you're not—"

"Go." She pointed down the hall.

His eyes widened, suddenly fully alert and panicking.

"Barry didn't do anything. He didn't start the fight, and he didn't participate. And like I said, very minor ogling. Besides," he suddenly took the defensive, "Don't tell me your night didn't get a little riled up at points."

Iris decided not to respond to that.

"Goodnight, Cisco," she said instead and closed the door gently but firmly in his face, ignoring his final plea before returning to where her fiancé lay half-draped off the couch, blanket on the floor.

She sighed wistfully. "Oh, Barry."

…

About twenty minutes later, Barry woke up with a pounding headache and Iris' fingers dragging sensuously through his hair.

He blinked a few times to get a good look at her.

"Iris?" he rasped.

"Hey, baby," she said, smiling fondly down at him.

"How…How did I get here?"

She bit her bottom lip, teeth sparkling between ruby lips.

"Cisco dropped you off."

"He did?"

"More like shoved you through the door, actually."

"I…don't remember that."

"You weren't exactly all there, Barry." She laughed lightly.

"Oh." His brows furrowed together in concern. "He just…shoved me at you? Did you… Was I heavy?" He started to sit up, then sunk back into the couch when his pounding headache intensified.

"Whoa. Whoa. Slow down there, Bear."

He groaned aloud. "Are you okay?" he asked, the back of his hand draped across his forehead.

"I'm fine." She somehow managed to suppress her laughter. "Here, just…wait a minute."

She got up and fetched a wet washcloth from the kitchen then returned to replace the hand on his forehead with it.

"Ohhh, that feels good, Iris."

She smiled softly. "I bet."

"How was your night?" he asked after a while, half-asleep again but conscious enough to want to inquire after her.

"Eventful," she said, amused but not explaining further.

Barry groaned loudly. "Ours too. I never want to drink again."

She laughed. "You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

"No," he said flatly.

"No?" she teased.

"You do not want to know."

Iris shrugged casually. "Very well. Cisco told me most of it anyway."

Barry's breathing stilled for a second. "Did he?"

"Mhmm."

"Am I in trouble?"

"What for?" she asked innocently.

He sighed. "To be honest, I have no idea. I don't remember much after I drank that stuff Cisco gave me and then came to just in time to puke in a jail cell." He groaned again and pressed the washcloth harder into his skin.

"Oh, honey," she cooed running her hand along the side of his face.

The concept of her fiancé going from drunk to hungover to drunk again was too confusing to wrap her head around, so she decided to ignore it. The most likely explanation was it was a side effect from the drink Cisco had made for him, so she let it go at that.

"Hangovers suck," he informed her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She laughed lightly, focusing entirely on him in the present again.

"That is what they say."

"Think I'll have to throw up again?" he asked, resignation in his voice before he answered.

"There is a chance."

He sighed. "You should go to bed, Iris. I'll be okay down here."

She smiled softly at him. "And miss your first and maybe only hangover? Not a chance."

He whimpered. "Iris, please."

"Shh," she soothed. "There's another couch here that will more than swallow me whole. I'm just going to grab us both some warmer blankets, then we'll cuddle up and go to sleep on our respective makeshift beds. Kay?"

He sighed again. "Iris…"

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be back."

True to her word, Iris gathered some blankets, a glass of water for Barry and a pail in case he needed it. By the time she returned to the living room, he was fast asleep and snoring. She stifled a laugh so as not to wake him and draped one large blanket over his long gangly form, setting the pail and glass of water nearby. Then she settled herself on the nearest couch and fell asleep.