"But I think we'll get to know each other very well. We might even become good friends."
Barry froze, clutching the autopsy report.
He looked at Yang Ming, then at Joe West.
Joe didn't look happy.
A new colleague at the Central City Police Department saying something like that to Barry on his first day was strange, no matter how you looked at it.
"Barry," Joe said gravely, "this is Doctor Yang Ming, our new Forensic Consultant."
Barry finally snapped out of it and hastily held out his hand.
"Welcome, Doctor Yang. I'm Barry Allen, a forensic scientist with the Forensics Department."
"I know."
Yang Ming shook his hand.
Barry's hand was a little cold, yet a trace of abnormal heat lingered in his palm.
The Speed Force had only recently awakened.
The kid probably still hadn't figured out why he was always as hungry as if he hadn't eaten in three days, or why his clothes kept mysteriously burning up.
Yang Ming released his hand.
"You run pretty fast."
Barry blinked.
"What?"
"I mean, you came rushing out pretty fast just now," Yang Ming said without batting an eye. "Watch the threshold next time. I doubt the Central City Police Department's workers' compensation covers a forensic scientist tripping himself into the morgue."
Barry scratched his head awkwardly.
"I'll be careful."
Joe glanced at them both, then turned toward the Forensics Unit.
"Stop standing around. Yang, let's take a look at your new office."
The door to the Forensics Unit swung open.
Yang Ming stood in the doorway, silent for three seconds.
More than a dozen unwashed beakers were piled up in the lab. Half a bag of chips lay wedged beside the microscope, and folders were scattered across the floor as though a tornado had swept through.
The desk